Sunnydale was gone.

Buffy knew that. She had helped make it go boom. It was just a hole in the Earth that humans tried to explain. But she knew the truth. Sunnydale's Hellmouth had split and demons had come pouring out. Civilians had died.The annoying pizza man, dead. The lady with the black poodle, both dead. The church minister, dead. The little old lady down the street, she was dead too. Almost everyone Buffy knew was dead.

Angel had come from LA to help her and the Scoobies.

She rapped her knuckles on the bar counter. The bar tender gave her another brandy. Spike would be smirking at her. And that would make her mad. She would have yelled at him. But she couldn't do that now.

Anya was dead.

Xander was a pile of ooze, so he was dead.

Andrew, Willow, and Giles were in Britain, nursing their own wounds and talking to the Council. Dawn was at the hotel, sleeping soundly after not having any sleep for several days. For that, Buffy was glad. Now she could be by herself and try to forget about the pain.

Spike and Angel were dead.

They died like heroes to close the Hellmouth forever. She had tried to convince them to forget about it, but they wouldn't listen. They were-had been Champions like her. They had done what any Champion should do. Except her. She was too scared to die, too defiant, too needed by the people. Especially her sister.

She would never forget looking back at the two Champions as the Hellmouth closed. They had been fighting back some demons, not noticing -or maybe not caring- that they were catching fire. They had fierceness and determination in their eyes before they were buried alive.

"SPIKE!!!ANGEL!!!!" she remembered herself calling for them for hours. Her voice had gone hoarse, but she had kept shouting.

Giles had tried to stop her, to console her, but she pushed him away. She kept crying out for her friends and for her old lovers. No answer had come. No miracle had occurred. They were gone and she could not cry.

She had taken Dawn away from Sunnydale with her. She had no idea where she was going. All she knew was that she had to get away from that Hellhole. Her sister had to be safe. They had to start anew. Dawn had cried about leaving their mom behind. Buffy had promised that they'd come back some day and put some of her mother's favorite flowers on her mother's grave. That had quieted Dawn about going back, for which Buffy had been grateful.

You can't give up; she could almost hear Spike say. You're the bloody Slayer. Slayers don't just give up.

"I'm not the Slayer anymore." Buffy whispered, staring into the depths of her brandy. "That part of me died with you, Angel, and the Hellmouth."

You're the Slayer and you will always be the Slayer, Angel would say. There is no quitting. You can hide, but you're job will find you.

"I don't want to be found." Buffy said, knowing that she sounded like a drunk. "I want to be left alone."

You'll never be alone, the voices of her friends mingled together. We'll always be with you. You can't give up Buffy.

"I can and I have." Buffy announced quietly, toasting herself before throwing back the brandy.

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness," someone said. "And believe me, I really should know. Seeing as I had a bloody chip in me head."

"Shut up Spike." Buffy whispered, thinking that he was just another hallucination. "You're dead."

"Aye, I died. But hey, that never stopped me before, right luv?" Spike said.

Buffy felt someone sit next to her. The familiar smell of cheap cologne, cigarettes, and the faint smell of death met her nose. She turned to see dark eyes looking into hers.

"Spike?" Buffy managed to whisper.

"'Ello luv." he murmured, giving her the half smile she loved so much.

Someone coughed to her other side. She turned to see Angel. "Angel?"

"Hello Buffy." he said, smiling at her.

Buffy woke up with a start. She must have dragged herself up to her room somehow. Her head hurt, but her heart hurt more. She drug herself to her room and threw herself on her bed and cried this time.

Xander was dead.

Anya was dead.

Willow, Andrew, and Giles had left her.

Spike was dead.

Angel was dead.

Buffy wished she was dead.

Sunnydale was gone.