"Go on, then."
"No. No, you've done enough. You could still-"
"No, you've beat them back. It's for me to do the cleanup."
Following his eyes, Buffy too looks back at the earth, watching the walls crumble, the air thickening with ashes as one by one the ubervamps disintegrate into nothing, and hears Faith calling from slightly above her, "Buffy, come on!".
She wasn't going to leave.
She wasn't going to tell Spike goodbye, so she stays with him.
They'd won the battle, but the victory wasn't one worth savoring; to her, it meant nothing. It had all been for nothing. Recovering the scythe, using its essence to empower the potentials as well as countless women around the globe - it was all meaningless if Spike had become a casualty.
There's always casualties in war, he'd said to her only a couple of nights ago when she was at her lowest and considered leaving Faith in charge of the coming apocalypse. That's how a quitter would respond, and that wasn't her. She was better than that.
Spike was there to rescue her from herself, from her own insecurities and weakness.
"Gotta move, lamb. Think it's fair to say, 'School's out for bloody summer'." He smiled, making it all sound so simple when the current scenario was anything but.
She was horrified while he appeared resolved, calm.
In an instant, she was awash with clarity. Hours ago, Spike wore a deep look of concentration as he studied the amulet intensely, his expression pensive, eyebrows knit together, as she descended the staircase to the basement.
He knew this would happen.
He knew death was the price, the end result, of wearing the faceted jewel. Was that the reason, the true reason that Angel opted not to - advising her in the process to follow his lead? There were too many questions and too little time to fully ponder them.
Further consideration would yield no change.
This was the only way it had to be, the only way it could be, but how could she move ahead in a world that didn't include Spike?
He was her pillar, the one person she could count on and go to for anything.
Without him, she'd be truly helpless and alone.
"Spike-"
"I mean it! Gonna do this!" He raises his hand almost defensively, not looking at her but at the walls collapsing from the force of his light.
How could she leave him here?
It was hard to breathe.
She couldn't move, less impossible was forming a coherent, rational thought, so she remains fixed at his side, a part of her waiting - hoping - for the unstable earth to crumble around them and take her under with it despite knowing that her only mode of escape was to do as he asked.
How could this happen? Why to the best person she knew?
Their life together was just beginning.
She could see their future, their path, so clearly. It was a well-lit road stretching for endless miles. What part of the world they headed to after today was tenuous, it didn't matter. The security of Spike's presence, his love, was all she cared about, all she could visualize.
They had so much to look forward to.
He had given her so much; pity she didn't see that until now. And she was sorry, so sorry. She was sorry for kissing Angel not only because Spike had seen them - that was part of it - but also because she never took the responsibility for her own happiness. Her feelings for Angel in the three years they were together paled in comparison to what she felt for Spike, and all that he'd done for her. Yet she feared the consequences of a. acknowledging that simple truth and b. how her friends would react to her choice of partner.
Spike reminded her time and time again that the ultimate, final decision was hers only.
It wasn't her friends' choice.
It wasn't their place to decide who'd best give her what she wanted.
He taught her how to love, he showed her how powerful and beautiful the experience of surrendering yourself to another can be. Though knowing she was flawed and imperfect, those doubts faded away when his eyes held her. With a passing glance, he made her feel she was the most beautiful, precious being in all of existence.
With a single touch, an embrace, her fears and worries turned distant and cold.
To him, she was perfect.
She could talk and open up to him about anything, and he'd never judge her. He'd listen - truly listen - to whatever it was she had to say no matter how ridiculous or irrational the topic seemed.
Spike didn't try to mold her or change her. She became the person she was meant to just by knowing him. In the last couple of nights they'd spent together, they'd loved each other and shared more than most do in a lifetime, and she wanted more of those nights.
She wanted him, but sadly, like most of her dreams, that would never come to fruition.
For all the pain she'd endured, nothing prepared her for this. All the blood rushed to her face, her heart fluttered as her mind spiraled constantly; she could practically feel the gears grind against neurons. There had to be a way to save him, some loophole she'd missed.
However, as she studied his face she knew.
He knew.
The look of blind exhilaration, the bright smile that had been there, turned to pain. The light emanating from his chest, she realized, was his life being drained from him. His eyes were slowly losing their luster, that most beautiful shade of ocean blue fading into a dull steel grey.
This was it; this was goodbye.
It wasn't supposed to be this way, not for him. In her mind's eye, the memory of that night in the church appeared in perfect detail, vividly and clearly. She could feel the despair Spike felt, smell his burning flesh as he draped himself over the cross, its caress almost bittersweet.
Can we rest now? He asked her.
She remembered the glassy look in his eye when she rounded him, kneeling so they could be level. Spike had that same look now.
Why does a man do what he mustn't? For her. To be hers.
At the time, she'd seen his words as so incredibly sad, the words of a broken man, a person struggling to hold on. Now, she envied him for being so secure in his convictions, for not allowing his love - his hope for a life that included her at his side - to be lost in an erratic, chaotic world.
All he wanted was her.
Blood pulsed through her veins with urgency as her eyes fell to his open palm.
Are you in love with him? Angel asked.
She was unsure of what to say.
What she felt for Spike was deeper than love, deeper than any emotion or feeling she'd ever experienced, but there was no hesitation in her reply.
He is in my heart.
He always would be. He was hers, as she was his.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she raised her hand to his and laced their fingers deliberately, closing her hand around his open one.
Spike looked away from the hellmouth and focused on her small, warm hand wrapped in his own and folded his fingers across hers before finally looking at her, his face full of wonder and awe.
And everybody will forgive and love. He will be loved.
If the strongest waves should lap over them, nothing would break them apart.
Nothing would tear her away from him.
Feeling his hand tighten around hers, she responded, her eyes drifting shut as she focused on the new, strange warmth - a deeper kind - swelling from within, fueling the sparks snapping across their flesh.
A brilliant flame erupted from where their hands met.
She gasped as an energy current traveled up her arm first, pausing once it reached her heart and settling there. She feels his soul, and it's so beautiful, stunning. Could it have been anything else, she wondered as she felt Spike press his hand harder into hers, anchoring her, keeping her with him and in this moment.
Like the earth around them, the gates separating dimensions crumbled in their wake one by one, perhaps foreshadowing alternate worlds where the laws of nature are again defied and two people, at the onset enemies but destined to grow into allies, come together and save humanity, or perhaps only each other.
Although the end of their life together in this dimension hung in the balance, there was a chance of them being reunited in the future. She focuses on him again, precious time slipping away, fantasies dissolving as reality sinks in, the warmth of his soul pulsating against her hand.
A barrage of emotions swept through: pride, joy, loss.
She's so proud, prouder than she could ever be of anyone. She's proud to call him her own, proud to have known him, proud to have been the one he'd loved fearlessly, unconditionally.
She feels joy looking back on what they shared, the precious nights they held one another - speaking to each other with their eyes, conveying through touch what words could only dare attempt - and the knowledge that only she and Dawn held special places in his heart.
She feels loss because she knows she could never trust herself or her heart to anyone like she had Spike. No one would ever take his place or measure up to him.
He was her champion in every sense, and there would never be another.
He'd been so wonderful for Dawn the summer she was gone, and she thought it was so terrible that they'd never get the opportunity to repair their relationship. She'd have to tell Dawn about the final hours she and Spike spent together someday.
She owed him that…and more.
As much as he was giving his life for her, he was also doing it so that the world would survive and go on. There was nobility in that. How callous would she be to take that away from him all because she wanted - needed - him to stay with her?
Even though she knew that the past couple of nights would mean more to him than three little words, she feels the need to say them anyway. She couldn't bear not telling him; she'd been fighting them for much too long, and she needs to hear the words for herself because this would be the only time as well as the last time she'd say them and mean them with every fiber of her being.
"I love you." Not even the tears in her eyes could blur the sight before her.
She sees Spike clearly as he stares at her, a smile threatening to break free as his soul continues to shine through. There's more blue in his eyes now. This is the one memory she knows she'll cherish above the rest even if it's also the most heartbreaking.
"No, you don't. But thanks for saying it." His voice catches, and he can only stare at her then.
The emotion she saw in his face as they stared at each other alluded to the truth - he believed her and knew she was sincere. Part of her wished he had responded differently, but again this wasn't about satisfying her wants and needs; this was about satisfying his, putting his needs first.
And he wanted her to go.
He wanted her to live, echoing the sentiment she imparted to Dawn.
Live for me.
She didn't want him moving onto a higher plane of existence debating whether she did or didn't love him as he loved her. She had loved him dearly, and she wanted to give him peace because at peace - safe - is all she felt when he was near, especially when he held her close.
This was her parting gift to him.
As the first drop of moisture cascaded down her cheek, she celebrated the happiness surging through him. She could feel it in his touch, his grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly.
There was sadness in his eyes as well.
He also seemed to realize that their time was running out, and she hated that. She hated that this was even happening, but he somehow managed to keep his tears at bay, knowing that if a tear fell she would never let him go, and he would be right.
Because I'm not ready for you to not be here.
Her already delicate walls would perish.
She would burn to a cinder with him if it meant not having to spend one moment without him.
She'd make that choice without hesitation if she had a chance, only she didn't because he made the decision for her. Even with the grim reality of it all staring her in the face, she knew she wasn't ready to face the future alone, but she'd have to be.
The earth shakes again, throwing her off balance and wrenching her hand from his, extinguishing the flames, but the pull between them is still there, stronger.
For the last time, she looks at his beautiful face.
"Now, go!" He shouts, and she obeys, navigating the lower depths of the hellmouth and the school corridor. The smile was evident in his voice as he added, "I wanna see how it ends."
"You're not the one and only chosen one anymore. Just gotta live like a person. How's that feel?" She considered Faith's question for a long moment, focusing on the gaping hole that had once been the town of Sunnydale.
The breeze which had tapered off began to pick up again, tossing her hair as she looked upward to the heavens. She took in the ocean blue sky and how one cumulus cloud remained stationary while the others glided through the air, as if waiting for her to acknowledge it.
Like the wind, love wasn't tangible.
It wasn't something she could touch or hold in her hands, but she could feel it, and she smiled. She would go on living, loving Spike, buoyed by the knowledge that he would always be one breath, one heartbeat, away.
THE END