A/N: This is my post-"The Gift" fic - wrote it slightly after Buffy's resurrection in S6. I found it languishing in a file folder in my e-mail box ... though unfortunately I lost the original ending. I'll have to rewrite that. In the meantime, here's the beginnings of it...
Disclaimer: These characters are, of course, not mine. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and various other people I am probably forgetting. I am only borrowing them to play.
The white shimmer of the portal closing faded into the rays of morning peeking over the horizon. Buffy lay crumpled on the ground, her hair in a golden shimmer behind her.
The Scoobies stood frozen in shock at the sacrifice of their friend. Xander held Anya in his arms. Spike was frozen on the ground, emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Giles stepped forward, a broken man. Willow clenched Tara's arm, an anchor in the storm of emotion roiling around them all.
"Buffy!" Dawn shrieked from high above on the tower. "Buffy..." she repeated softly, her voice quivering. Wincing at the pain from the wounds Doc had carved in her side and chest, she began climbing down the tower.
"Spike, help Dawn," Willow said.
"Careful, niblet," Spike called. "I'm coming up."
He began climbing slowly up the tower to meet Dawn, his own injuries from the fall off the tower making his movements painful.
Buffy groaned.
"Spike, Dawn, hurry!" Willow cried, tears running down her face, dripping onto the face of her best friend. "She's still alive."
Spike met Dawn on the face of the tower. "Hop on," he said, motioning to his shoulders. Dawn carefully grasped Spike's shoulders, clasping her legs around his waist. With his precious cargo latched firmly on his back like a baby monkey on the back of its mother, he moved quickly down to the ground.
Dawn ran to Buffy, kneeling next to Willow.
"Buffy, you can't leave me," Dawn said brokenly. "Not now...not after all this."
"Like I told you on the tower, I need you to live for me," Buffy gasped, her breath coming harder. "Every Slayer knows her time will come. This must be mine."
Buffy's eyes closed.
"No!" Dawn wailed. "Not you too...I want Mom..."
Buffy opened her eyes once more. "I'm ... not... alone ..." she rasped. "You ... are ... all my strength." Her breathing slowed and stopped.
"Do something!" Spike snapped at Willow, his eyes dark with pain and unshed tears. "You're the Wiccan who's been kicking arse the past few days!"
Tara put her hand on Willow's arm, shaking her head. "No, honey. It's not our place to interfere in the natural order," she said. "She knew what the cost was when she entered this battle."
In a split second, Willow looked up at her friends: Tara, with her mind newly restored; Spike, who in his own way loved Buffy; Xander, who was willing to give his all for Buffy; Anya, ready to leap in when needed; Giles, whose love for Buffy was almost a father's.
"I can't say goodbye again," Willow said. "The world still needs her." Taking a moment to center herself, she tapped into the deep resources of power she'd found and the newly gathered knowledge from Glory, reached forward and placed her hands on Buffy's temples. Tapping into her her recent forays into Buffy's subconscious, she went deeply into Buffy's mind, seeking that familiar spark that was her friend.
Finding that spark, grasping it, trying to hold it to herself, she slowly withdrew from Buffy's mind. As she did, darkness fell across Buffy's mind. Willow shivered and fell to the ground, senseless. She awoke to Tara's hand on her face.
"Are...are you okay?" Tara asked, her doe eyes sad and concerned. Willow sat up, seeing Xander kneeling over Buffy, Spike sitting curled into a ball, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "She died," Tara said softly, answering the unspoken question in Willow's eyes.
"I...I failed?" Willow said softly. "I thought I could save her..." She stood up, walked over to Dawn, who was standing next to Spike, and put her arms around her. "I'm so sorry," Willow wept. "I tried, Dawnie, I tried..."