He sat still as a statue. In the darkened living room of the twit's apartment he stared at the shadows of the things outside on the wall. Not breathe entered and no breathe left him. In all parts of the word, he was nothing more then dead. Sometimes for a fleeting moment he felt alive but it wasn't real and the moment was always fleeting. His eyes were accustomed to the blackness of night and he could see every part of the room in excruciating detail. He could make out the jacket still draped over the chair and the pen Xander had dropped when he rushed though the door and out of the apartment after writing something down. He was frozen in time, sitting there the same way he was sitting when the phone had rung nearly 2 hours ago. Xander had walked out of his room groggily, rubbed his eyes, looked at Spike who had assumed was asleep, and picked up the phone with a sleepy, "Hello". He had watched Xander's sleepy face turn to shock, to anger, to fear, and finally to tears. The man had openly wept and by the reading of lips and his ability to hear very well, he knew the whole conversation. Buffy was dead, not in trouble, not dying; there was nothing that could help her. She was lying in the morgue at Sunnydale Hospital waiting the arrival of her loving friends and family. He had not moved, he had just let tears slip down his face for a half hour, maybe more. He thought about the awful way such a prominent slayer had gone out. So plain, with no drama at all. Attacked in her sleep, it was a crime and in some ways Spike felt as if she had been cheated. Having no chance to fight back, she had just slipped away. In a way it was for the better, not as much pain for her and the creature that took her had been killed by Willow moments after but for Buffy it was much to late. He has imaged her pale face and her soft blond ringlets lying in peaceful sleep as it happened. A never- ending sleep had begun now, one that she would never wake from again. He could see the little bit's face as she looked upon her dead hero. Dawn looked up to Buffy completely and he wondered where the poor thing would turn now without that girl. Willow probably had a tear-soaked face and red blurry eyes, morning the lose of her loving, beautiful friend. He imagined Xander touching the cheek of the only girl he would have ever trusted with his life. And Spike sat motionless, feeling nothing but the cold churning inside his own frozen body. He would never see her again, she would never look at him again, and he would never be near her, never hear her breathe, talk or laugh again. Never see her cry again. His mind blurred and he no longer had the ability to think. All he could do was sit there staring at the shadows on the wall and waiting for the nightmare to end.