Title: The Last Sunrise

Author: Bells

Pairing(s): Besides Spike/Xander, now that would be telling, wouldn t it?

Summary:

Newly en-souled, Spike is suffering through the pain of the horrors he had done as a demon. Fully rejected by the slayer, alone and in the dark, he has drawn himself inward, pulling away from everyone around to wallow in what he had done. He will not feed, will not speak to any of the Scoobies and is living by himself in his rank crypt without any type of contact (human or otherwise) for months. He is fading. How will he fair when an accident gives Spike no choice but to let Xander die or turn him?

Vamp!Xander, Angst

AU Buffy: between S6-S7:: No Spuffy, No Original Evil, Giles/Anya (left the country), Willow owns the Magic Box, No Potentials, No Caleb.
AU Angel: fits along the same timeline as Angel S5:: Canon except No Illyria (or forthcoming Illyria

A Soul

He stayed close to the shadows, watching silently. Mouth twisting in a grin, he let the world switch vistage, changing so that everything appeared sharper, harsher, and so that his senses augmented. The sun had only just slipped below the horizon, but the sky was barely a royal blue, hinting at the sun still. Scenting the air, the vampire let himself peek out of the shadows and towards that horizion, peering at the thin line of light that shown like the crack beneath a door. The sunrise had slipped away before he had even woken, turned the deep purples of night before he had even ventured out of the abandoned warehouse.

A heartbeat drew the vampires attention; the sound came nearer, thumping in time with footfalls. Grinning wider, a pink tongue darted out, licking his fangs. Xander could already taste the blood, warm with life and fear.

Willow squinted down at the text, and then back up at Spike. Hesitation marred her face, but the look on his was far worse. She saw the pain strung there and turned back to the book.

"I need the vial," she said without looking up.

Spike moved carefully towards the witch, making sure not to step inside the alchemy circle or upset any of the hundred-odd candles scattered throughout the Magic Box.

"Really seems like a fire hazard, Red." Spike pressed the vial of his blood into Willows hand, "And us vampires being of the flammable variety doesn't exactly make this bit of the spell cozy."

Taking the vial, Willow popped the cap and knelt by the potion she had been working on earlier. Ready to pour the blood into the mix, she looked up at Spike as if having an after-thought. "You might want to back up,"

Spike did, and stifled a gasp as his blood hit the mix. Fog rolled in out of nowhere, streaming through the shop as though they were in the centre of a bog. Little lights shone in the distance, the candles, looking very much like bog-lights in the half dark. The stores walls and ceiling melted away into absolute darkness and Spike was left alone in a wide, empty darkness. The lights flickered near the edge of his vision, as Spike could stare at nothing more than what lay in the centre of the circle.

Willow stood tall, her skirts flapping around her as though caught up in a torrent. Hair streaming as the cloth, it tangled in her face, illuminated by the flame so that it looked near crimson. Willow had her gaze turned downward, and Spike could hear her chanting something faintly. All around her feet, the mist gathered and spun in that invisible torrent of air.

As though she were a puppet on a string, the witches head snapped up suddenly, neck making a harsh crack as it did so. She stared straight ahead, speaking as if to someone in the room. Spike thought at first it was him, but Willow was looking further away than he stood, beyond him into the bog lights.

"Death, Keeper of souls. I beseech you." the words rang, echoed as though they were in a room much larger, "You have taken one we wish to have returned, guardian. You have taken the soul of a friend without his final death. We come to collect that soul and return it to its keeper so that he might in a manner live."

She stopped, staring still as if waiting for an answer. A moment passed and Spike became restless, fidgiting where he stood, unsure of his part in this little play.

A glimmer caught his attention, one of the lights fluttering very far away. It seemed to pulse, in and out of intensity like a heartbeat. And as it beat, the light seemed to grow larger. No, it grew nearer. As the light came closer, Spike wanted to shrink back into the darkness. There was something odd about the light that the vampire couldn't place. Every instinct in him wanted to lash out at the light, hissing and tearing at it. He could contain himself, all but a low growl that rose without warning in his chest.

"Keeper of souls. I ask for your aid." Willow cried again, her voice powerful.

This time, she was answered. The light had neared so that it pulsed upon the edge of the circle, seemingly focused on the witch. The image of a woman appeared out of the brightness, almost as if she were made of flame. Yet, Spike could feel the chill that surrounded the image and he could spell the decay upon her.

"What is it you ask?" the woman asked in a smooth voice, words rising and falling as her image pulsed.

"A soul restoration." Willow stared straight at the vistage, her eyes black with magic, "We seek out the soul of a dead companion."

"I do not bring to life anyone," chided the figure, "You should know that better than anyone."

Willow looked as if she had been slapped in the face, and it took a moment for her to gather herself and continue. "Dead but not lifeless--"

"Ah, a vampire. How interesting," The woman appeared to be staring at Spike now, and even beyond the light, her features seemed to smirk, "Seeking out penance and humaity? Now that's a strange thing."

Spike broke from the womans gaze, though her eyes were not seen he could feel them boring into his flesh. "Got my soul 'ready," he mumbled, "Red's hoping to get back her friends I turned."

There was no sound for a long moment and then a sudden cackle like flames. Every one of the bog lights intensified suddenly, glowing stronger as the laughing bellowed. Spike thought that he could hear more laughing in the distance, but tried not to listen to it. Willow broke through the mania, her voice as strong as it had been through the initial incantation.

"We seek out the soul of a dead companion. We wish to restore his humanity this eve." She said quickly and then returned to silence as though waiting for a response.

The laughter quelled slowly, and the woman turned back to the witch. Lights in the distance returned to their regular flicker.

"I can return the soul, but there is a price to pay." the woman spoke, contained once more as if there had been no outburst, "He is no longer human, though I can give him humanity he must trade that with a daemonic aspect. I can give back the boys soul, but he cannot remain truly human."

Willow nodded, "We understand and accept, Keeper. His soul must be restored tonight. We ask for your aid in this matter and understand the trade--"

He could take it no longer, "What is the aspect?" Spike threw his words into the mix, startling Willow out of her rehearsed conversation, "What's going to happen to him?"

Without turning, the Keeper spoke, "His soul will be intact as well as all human memories, but he is human no longer. The boy will have to change in different ways, and as an agreement to letting his soul return, his physical vistage will have to be compromised. The boy's soul will be returned, but he will no longer appear fully human."

Spike was taken aback by the reply, but before he could say anything more, Willow broke through the silence.

"We agree to the terms, Keeper. We ask for safe return of Alexander's soul." Picking up the potion with Spikes blood, the witch held it out, towards the woman. The light flickered on as it neared, burning brighter. Reaching forward, the woman took the potion from Willow.

Turning her head back, the Keeper brought the potion to her mouth and drank quickly, leaving not even dampness in the little bowl that had held the potion.

"So you ask; so it is done." The Keepers edges blurred, as though she was turning from light to smoke. Her body drifted slightly, fading into the fog which drew itself quicklly away, back into the darkness. Lights all around them were snuffed out, until the witch and the vampire were left in total darkness. And then, that faded as well, until they stood -- as before -- in the shops center. Every candle had burnt out, all the way down to the wick.

Dawn walked quickly home, unsure of how she had lost track of time. She blamed the shoe store. That new pair of boots had captured her attention for a long half-hour and she was pretty sure now that anything open this late had to be of the evil-variety. Evil shoe stores were just another problem to add to the list.

The sun had gone down already, but it was still light enought out for her to see. That, and streetlights lined the road every twenty feet. It seemed like the good people of Sunnydale really were afraid of the dark (with good reason). Shadows cast by those lights were enlongated and strange, throwing odd patterns over the street and mixing with the images of lampposts themselves sent. Dawn shurgged, and stopped watching the shadows, paying more attention to her chiming cell.

Giggling, she stopped where she stood and replied quickly. Snapping the phone shut, Dawn could barely contain the bounce in her step. He had finally asked her out! They were finally really dating!

A light illuminated the streets as though the sun were setting again...as though it were rising right above where she stood. Everything was suddenly as bright as day, and as Dawn looked up, she saw a great white-hot ball rising into the for the source wildly, Dawn realized it really was the sun shining above! Yet, the orb glowed strangely bright, as though Dawn has stared at into the face of a light bulb right after waking. Squinting, she saw someone else in the new light.

"Xander!" the girl called, a slight quaver in her voice. She could see her friend standing next to one of the buildings nearby almost in the mouth of an alleyway, but he stood with his back turned to her as though he hadn't heard her calling. She tried again, but still Xander didn't move.

Running towards her friend, she reached for his shouder, trying to spin him around. Suddenly, Dawn was on the ground, back pressed into the hard asfalt. Her phoen skittered across the pavement, chiming a new text message.

Xander smirked wide, fangs dropping as he moved. His eyes glowed yellow, grinning down at her, and laughter followed. Xander threw back his head and howled.

"X-Xander?" she said in barely a whisper.

Head snapping back towards her, Xander grinned even wide, "Right here, Dawnie!" He licked his lips, "And it looks like you're right here too. Mind if I take a quick bite? Know how you always wanted me to notice you? Well here I am looking! "

Without waiting, Xander drove his fangs into the girls neck, drinking heartily. The light swelled all around them suddenly, swirling as if the sun had descended. Only, neither noticed the light or the slayer that approached until Buffy's fist made contact with Xanders face.

He was thrown off the smaller girl so quickly he tore a strip of flesh the size of a golf-ball with him. He didn't have time to do anything more than spit that out before the light made its final descent, glowing, pulsing and finally drawing itself inside of Xander. He cried out, entire body in agony as he burned from the inside. Xander fell to his knees, holding his chest as the pain focused there.

Buffy held her stake up, moving menacingly towards the screaming vampire. She stopped when Dawn called out. It was a harsh, garggled cry and Buffy saw now the wound at her sisters neck.

"Shit!" she dropped her stake and dropped next to her sister. Ripping off a part fo her sleeve, she held it against the wound, feeling the blood pulse there. Dawn looked up at her, eyes unfocused but coherant still.

"Xander," she rasped before dropping into her sisters arms. She was loosing blood but not as much as before. The vampire had missed a majour artary, but it was the girls neck all the same.

Buffy gathered the girl in her arms, looking wildly around for her friend. Dawn had said only his name, so it must be impoartant. He could have been attacked too! Buffy wanted to stake the vampire that had done this then and now, but her sister needed to get to a hospital before she lost any more blood.

"Just so you know," Buffy called over at the vampire, who had finally ceased writhing in agony, "You're going to die for this. Nobody hurts my sister or my friends. I'll kill you for this."

The vampires face turned, yellow eyes wet with tears. "B-buffy?" Xander managed, voice laddened still with pain.

The slayer gasped, nearly dropping Dawn when she saw her friends face. "No," Buffy whispered, her own voice heavy with pain.

"What-I don't feel--" Xander propped himself up, moving so that he stood, head bent still, focusing on his hands. The nails on his fingers were longer, pointed almost as if filed that way. The shown iridescent in the darkness, nearly white. He didn't seem to be listening, "No, didn't...no..." He whispered, hands balling into fists. Looking up at Buffy, she could see his face fully. He looked almost human except for his eyes -- yellow as if in Game Face -- and the fangs which were covered still in blood. Xander seemed to realize this, and reached up. His hand came away red, and at that the tears stopped. Looking absolutely broken, Xander stared straight into Buffy's eyes. "I'm sorry," he mouthed, and turned.
Xander ran into the darkness until Buffy couldn't see even his shadow.