Another scream of pain echoed in the still night as Spike fell to his knees in anguish. His head was pounding and there was a suffocating tightness in his chest. He could feel the demon trying to hold on. But the magic was far stronger than it could withstand. With one last cry his body lurched forward into a heap on the dew covered lawn of the cemetery. Everything seemed to dim and he barely heard the shocked yelp of the Wicca s young male apprentice.
Spike s body shook involuntarily as a sudden wave of nausea hit him. He felt empty. And there was an unsettling quiet in his mind. The only sound now was of him gasping for air. He felt so alone. So lost. Throughout everything Spike had always had his demon to rely on. Everybody died or left but he always had the demon. Now he had no one. And a hole left from where it had been forced out.
"William?" a voice pulled him from his thoughts. Spike fought through the dizziness to lift his head to see the boy watching him with his head tilted to the side slightly, brow furrowed, much like Spike often did.