Definition
Chapter One: Living Without Definition
Author's Note: This was originally written as a one-off, which is why the POV changes, then I decided to save Wesley! So I wrote four other fics in the series, but I've decided to group them together now to make one fic rather than five.
This is set after the season finales of Buffy s.7 and Angel s.4.
I hadn't seen it coming. But I guess they didn't either. It's not like I saw my feelings for Buffy coming; they just sorta came out of nowhere and hit me right between the eyes. Looked like the same way for them.
Niblet had gotton quite fond of books and that what with all the research she did with the First. And when she came to UCLA, she helped Wes out a lot with his books. Seemed only natural she would come to work with us in his department after college.
They were close, I could see that. I think both of them were a little underestimated and they both seemed quite tough.
I don't know why I wasn't more surprised to find them in a heated clinch by the filing cabinet of his office.
Maybe I had noticed the passion simmering in the air between them. Dawn had become quite the beautiful woman, so I could see the attraction for him. For her, I think she fell for him the moment he convinced Angel that she wasn't a child, that she had fought Bringers, to give her a chance.
He saw something in her that nobody else had noticed before, not even me; our Dawn was a woman. A strong woman with a wicked sense of humour.
I never knew Wes had a sense of humour, but apparently he did and somehow Dawn had coaxed it to the surface and it blossomed.
He became a good match for her.
And they loved each other, that much was obvious. Which is probably why I didn't protest against it.
But that kind of love... that kind of love always means that the fall… Well, the fall could break you. Trust me, I know.
So I should have listened to that sense of foreboding I had before we went into that big battle to save Angel from some insane cult type vamps.
I hear hindsight is always twenty-twenty.
He had been drugged, according to Wes. Which explained why there was less of a struggle in the area we found Angel's duster. Fred tracked down a vampire cult, intent on bringing hell to earth. Like that ever ends well.
So we suited up and went to save our great hero. In fact, it was Wes that dragged him out of the circle the vamps had drawn. But Wes was pretty cut up from the fight and the bloodletting had already started. I held the vamps off while he got Angel away. But their blood hit the edges of circle and before we knew it, a hole ripped open and a scream of air that tasted like death whirled out.
Dawn had been a few feet away, hacking furiously at two vamps. Andrew and Gunn took Angel from Wes. The rest of us backed away from the portal, even the vamps. The energy was… I wouldn't even have liked it had I still been evil. Dawn was the last to notice the swirling red and purple hole in the air.
But she was the first to notice Wes standing in front of it, contemplating.
She stumbled to a halt before him and grabbed his elbow, yanking him away from the portal.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Ending it," he replied.
They were too calm and he was too cold. I almost couldn't watch. But I was frozen, part of me waiting to drag them away from the portal should anything creep out. The others stood back watching with horror-struck fascination. Everyone seemed to have somehow accepted failure and were just waiting to see what would happen next. My foreboding grew until I could barely focus.
"What?" she cried. "No! Come away! There's gotta be another way!"
"The only other way is Angel. When I dragged him away, his blood mingled with mine and opened the portal. The only way to close it is for one of us to go through. It has to be me. The world needs him."
"And what about me?" her voice was tiny, cracked and tearful. "I need you."
The ice melted and I saw the tears in his eyes as he pulled her to him.
"I know," he whispered into her hair. "I need you too. But there is no other way. I have to go. I have to save the world."
She pulled away, pushing him back and shook with fury and misery.
"Screw the world!" she screamed. "There's got to be another way! There always is! No, Wes. You can't do this. I won't let you!"
"I have to. There's no time for another way," he grabbed her elbows and gave her a little shake. "Don't you see? This isn't just about us anymore, this is about everyone. Everyone we know… The whole world, Dawn!"
"You're my world!" she yelled, fighting his grip but he kept hold of her. "I won't let you! You're everything!"
"How many years have you fought, Dawn?" he stopped her struggling and pinned her with his eyes, something in his voice begging with her. "How much did you give up for this life? You had a choice, but you gave up normality for this! You always knew it would hurt. You knew. This is how the story always ends. Someone always dies to stop the sky falling. You think this isn't hard for me? You think I want to leave you?"
"I don't know," she whimpered.
"No! If I had a choice," his voice broke and tears welled in his eyes again, threatening to fall. "It would be you. But I don't have a choice. Please, Dawn, I need you. I need you to let me go."
"I can't."
"Please. If you do, if I know you'll go on, I can do this. Otherwise, I'll never be able to leave you. But I have to stop this, Dawn. Please."
She shook, avoided his eyes and I could see her breaking. Then she turned back to him. She straightened and her jaw lifted. I recognised that stance. She was no Slayer, but she was as strong as. After a moment, she nodded.
"You'll be a Hero," she whispered. "I'll never forget. I'll make sure no one forgets."
"I'll never forget," he answered and drew her into a kiss. I've never seen a kiss like that before or since. Everything they could have had it in one kiss. They played out their lives in that kiss and he gave her something to cling to.
But it was always going to be goodbye.
"I love you," she whispered. She moulded herself too him and buried her face in his neck and held on tightly, her tears staining his shirt. "I love you, I love you, I love you. I always will. I promise. I love you. I love you."
"I love you too," he answered, tears forcing out down his cheeks, but he forced a grin when she looked up at him. "Screw the world, I'm doing this for you."
"Are you going now?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," he replied, keeping her close as he smoothed his hand over her hair as he had done hundreds of times before.
"I don't want you to."
"I know. I don't want to either. But you understand?"
Something in the way he said it made me think he wanted her to beg him not to go, to force him to stay.
"Yeah," she pulled out of his embrace and swallowed. She walked back, their hands trailing between them. "See? I'm letting go. But I never really will you know."
He gripped her fingers tightly and I saw the fear in his eyes before he let go of her. She started to back away, turning away and he watched her go. It was killing him, anyone could see that. If he had a choice, it would always be her. Which is why he backed toward the portal.
The others stared at him. Fred was crying silently, seeming not to notice the tears. Lorne and Gunn had their heads bent, unable to watch their friend sacrifice himself. Andrew was biting his lip, eyes shining as he watched Dawn walk away. Angel was still unconcious. No one made any attempt to stop him. They all knew, deep down that there was no other way and if Dawn accepted it…
I went forward to meet her and she was only a few feet away when she cast one final glance back and saw him start to enter the portal. I could smell his tears, his yearning even from where I stood.
She screamed his name and whirled away from me, running back to him. I went after her, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her back. She strained forward, her body bent double over my arms. Screaming, crying, bargaining and begging.
I gulped hard because I couldn't miss him yet, not when I had to get her away. I made a promise years ago, to protect her, to save her. She continued to struggle, scream and cry as he disappeared. The portal closed slowly, zipping shut behind him.
"Wesley!" her grief-stricken howl petered out when there was no more murderous red-purple light.
She went limp in my arms. Her body relaxed and drooped.
She died in my arms that night. I felt her die as surely as hearing her heart stop.
She's still here, six months later, preparing to battle some demon army trying to bring about yet another End of Days. She's become reckless because there's nothing left for her to live for now. I know she'll take risks because she doesn't care if she comes out the other side, because the way she sees it, there's nothing waiting for her. There's no future, no life without him. It doesn't matter to her anymore.
For the first couple of months, she was hardened; going on and running the department like nothing had changed. She ignored her sister's attempts to get her to talk, eventually asking Buffy to leave. Which she did, after two weeks of Dawn telling her to go. No one else ventured to get her to talk and Angel avoided her.
She tortured a vamp to death a couple of days after Wesley's death. He was the only remaining vamp left from the cult. He also happened to be the very one who had sliced into Angel's stomach to draw the blood that opened the portal. The bloodletting that ending up with Angel and Wesley's blood mixing, opening the portal.
She had rammed boiling hot pokers though him. Kneecaps, neck, elbows, heart. I don't know where she got that idea from him. But I know she was being powered by grief and rage and that can do crazy things to a person. Look what happened to Willow after Tara died.
When she staked him, I found her staring at the building the vamp nest had been in. It was burning.
"Did it make you feel better?"
I had asked her.
"For about ten seconds. But he'll be dead just a little bit longer than that."
I remembered telling her a long time ago about trying to shoot Buffy. It was the summer that Buffy was dead and she had asked when I really knew. I remembered telling her that that was the night that I realised it was really love. I told her what I'd said to Harmony and she repeated it years later without taking her eyes from the burning building. It was an unspoken challenge.
Her eyes were dead and cold. I remember him saying that he loved her eyes because they changed. They don't change now. They're not even blue anymore. They're grey.
I hate them.
Angel gave up avoiding her after two months and apologised. For the first time since watching him leave her, she cried. I never knew a person could hold so much in for so long. I didn't even know someone could ache that much and Angel just stared at her until he finally touched her shoulder. She sobbed and screamed until I raced into the office and scooped her up. She beat her fists against me and howled.
She had burned with passion for him and the passion between them sparked with electricity. Now the passion was bitter and cold, painful and dead. The only coherent words were "Wesley. You left me. You promised." I rocked her, stroked her back and kissed her hair for hours and hours until I thought we could salt the earth with her tears.
When she stopped crying, there was a spark in her eye. They remained grey, but she seemed to remember her promise: "You'll be a Hero. I'll never forget. I'll make sure no one forgets."
She arranged a memorial, inviting everyone. He never talked much about his parents, but he must have confided in her because she invited his fuck of a father. She told me his father had never believed in him and a simple phonecall could send Wesley spiralling into a confidence crisis. But she made her point to Wyndham-Pryce Senior. She proved his son was a Hero.
And that spark remained; though tiny. It became clear to me that she only seemed to live for the fight now.
I'm scared I'll lose her in this fight with this demon army. I'm scared she'll die watching Andrew's back. Every time I think I don't want her to die, I remember Fred coming up to me when I watched her sleeping exhausted that night, murmuring his name:
"She'll be ok, Spike. She's strong; she's a fighter. She'll get through this. She'll live."
I remember looking up at her and shaking my head.
"I know she will. But by whose definition?"
I know now that she doesn't live by any definition at all.
