One
Strong, pale fingers grasped the iron bars as he quickly scampered up the rickety framework of the tower. Below, in scattered groupings of two or three, little skirmishes were fought. He tuned out the chanting of the witches, the Watcher's gasps of air as he fought three of the hellgod's minions and the sharp disbelief in the hellgod's voice as she cried out "Did anyone know the Slayer was a robot?"
Only two things were important to him right now, two heartbeats that easily drowned out the cacophony of the apocolypse . One heartbeat below him, racing a little faster than normal and he muttered under his breath.
"Steady, Slayer," he warned. "I'll take care of the 'Bit, you don't lose your focus now."
Whether she heard him or not was not important, the words prompted him to remain on task, to trust that Goldilocks would give the hellgod the beat-down she deserved while he climbed steadily upward, toward the fluttering pulse above.
Her fear perfumed the air and his pace quickened.
"Easy now, 'Lil Bit. Almost there."
Above, someone familiar approached the girl and he didn't try to hold back his snarl when he recognized the doctor. Dawn's fear increased and she tried to stifle her sobs.
His feet touched the unstable catwalk when he smelled blood but it was her cry of pain that brought the demon forth.
The fight was quick, the doctor dead but when he turned and saw the temporal rip in the crackling air just under Dawn's feet he knew he was too late.
"You have to…" the young girl stopped trying to pull in air as she chocked on her sobs, "the blood…it opens the gate and the longer I bleed, the wider it will get."
Her eyes, wide and filled with tears, pleaded with him to understand.
"It won't close unless I die."
"That's not happening, Bit."
Below, the tear widened and he heard Buffy scream her sister's name as she started to race up the stairs.
"But you have to…" she blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear her eyes while she made a futile attempt to tug her hands free from the bonds.
He walked toward her and, ever so gently, freed her wrists from the ropes.
"Now that's just crazy talk." Even before he finished, she was shaking her head.
"No, no…the prophecy said "blood will open the gate until the blood stops"…it means I have to die." With one hand free, she took a step backward, and he wrapped his fingers around her wrist.
Startled, she looked at him.
"Blood…it always begins and ends with blood, don't it?"
"Dawn! Spike! Don't do anything Spike…" Buffy, still far below them, commanded.
His eyes were drawn to the rip as the air crackled and he saw the shadows of the hellish creatures that waited for the gap to widen enough to let them through. His thoughts, though, centered around the one word.
Blood.
Footsteps pounded upon the rickety stairwell and the iron frame groaned, the air crackled and the rip tore just a little more.
"Please…" Dawn whispered. Her hand tugged his downward and he felt the slickness of blood upon his fingers. "See….it won't stop until the blood stops."
Blood.
The demon sprung forward and he sunk to his knees while his tongue laved at her belly.
"Spike…what…?" and he sealed her wounds.
"The blood isn't running now…" he felt giddy until he saw the sadness in her eyes.
"Oh Spike," she touched a hand to his cheek, "if only it were that simple." To further strengthen her words, the gap widened and a great winged creature repeatedly began to break through the tear, it's shrill screech making Dawn turn her head.
"Spike, please, it is only going to get worse!" she pleaded, struggling against the remaining bond.
"Your blood." He said and she nodded.
"Yes. Now hurry."
"Don't touch her!" Buffy was only one floor below him and Spike wished he had enough time to get one last look. He slid his fingers down to Dawn's wrist, raised it to his lips and gave a soft kiss, the gesture reminiscent of his days as a Victorian gentleman.
"It will only sting for a moment, little one," he promised and bit as gently as he could. He pulled three mouthfuls and laved his tongue against the wound to seal it.
"Goodbye Dawn."
He kissed her cheek, ran off the edge of the platform and leapt as far as he could just as the dragon-like creature broke through the tear. His aim was true and, as he wrapped his arms around the neck of the beast, the electric current raced through his body while the chip in his head fired, its power exponentially magnified by the lightening.
He hoped that, when they looked back on this moment, they would say that, at last, he had done this one thing right.