Part Six:
Only Death

"Spike!"

Willow put her hands to her head and fell onto the bed. They had all heard the shattering of glass a moment ago, and were about to rush out and investigate when Willow stopped them by shouting the vampire's name.

"What is it?" Tara asked. "What's he saying?"

"Buffy," Willow said. Though her eyes looked towards the others, they were distant and glassy, as if they were only looking inward. "She broke in the window. I pushed Dawn in the bathroom. She's safe but only until Buffy kills me. I'll hold her off as long as I - Oh!" Willow put her hand to her chest. "Bloody hell, the bitch has a knife. Dammit, Willow, get your narrow lesbian ass moving with that spell. And tell that pansy-ass bastard Rupert he can -" Suddenly Willow stopped.

"What is it?" Giles asked, kneeling next to her and taking her hand. "Is Spike...? Has he been...?"

"What?" Willow shook her head and quickly recovered from the experience. "He's fine. It just got too dirty for me to repeat."

She stood. "Listen up. We only have one chance at this, and we need to do it fast."

*

Buffy lifted Spike over her head and threw him against the dresser.

He fell to the prickly motel carpet hard. His entire body seemed covered with blood. Blood seeped from his many chest wounds - including the one which stained the knife tucked into Buffy's pocket - and dripped down to his waist. His bones ached from the impact, and as he struggled to stand he was suddenly aware of a throb in his right temple. He put his hand to it and felt blood begin to ooze out of a fresh wound; his head must have hit a corner of the dresser.

"This is getting boring," Buffy said. Spike looked up to see her slowly approaching his prostrate form. She had cleaned herself up since they'd seen her last: she wore tight jeans and a red sweater that hugged her round breasts. Her hair was clean and pulled back into a ponytail, with soft whisps dancing around her pretty face. Spike pushed himself to his feet.

"And pathetic," Buffy continued. "Do you really want to die here, in a motel in Sunnydale, protecting some stupid little human who doesn't even care about you?" She reached out and put her hand on Spike's shoulder. "I'll give you a chance, Spike. Leave now. Just go, and never come back here, and I'll let you live."

Blood ran into Spike's right eye, blinding him. "Do you really think I'd do that?"

Buffy smiled. "Of course not." She swiftly took her hand from Spike's shoulder and punched him in the mouth. He doubled over, but remained standing.

"Remember, we made a deal like this once before. But you came back. You always say you're leaving, but you always come back."

Buffy kicked Spike in the stomach. He fell into a sitting position and she leapt on top of him, knocking him onto his back and straddling him across the chest. She held her knife to his throat. Spike could smell his own blood on it. "Think you can come back from the dead?" she asked.

"Why not?" Spike said, trying not to show how much pain he was in. "Everyone seems to be doing it lately."

He dug his elbows into the floor and pushed up with all his strength. Buffy was thrown off him, but she landed on her feet, knife still in hand. Spike went to attack her but Buffy easily backhanded him, and he was flung face-down across one of the beds.

"I'm going to kill her," Buffy said. "You can't stop me. All this time, Spike, and you've never once been able to stop me." She walked over to him and stood over his unmoving form.

Spike slowly turned his head towards her. His face changed and his eyes glowed red.

"Ooo. Scary." Buffy said mockingly. "What are you going to do, bite me? You know you can't." She laughed. "You *love* me."

"Lucky for me," Spike said. "I don't have a bloody soul."

He lunged at Buffy, fangs bared, but she stepped back just as he was about to latch onto her neck. Spike advanced on her, blocking her blows and driving her towards the door. Her fist connected with his face, but it wasn't hard enough to stop him; he grabbed her shoulders and threw her with all his strength, splintering the door as her body flew outside.

When Spike stepped through the broken remains of the door, he saw Buffy sitting on the ground outside, blood leaking from her mouth. She put her hand to her mouth, surprized at the injury, then, her eyes growing angry, she reached behind her and withdrew a wooden stake from her waistband.

Willow!, Spike thought.

"Ready!" he heard in his mind.

Spike dashed to the room only a few feet away. Behind him he could hear Buffy getting to his feet and following.

She's right behind me, he thought.

"Get her in the room," he heard. "Get her inside the circle."

Spike burst through the door and into the room. Willow stood just beyond a small circle of red candles. Xander and Giles stood at the back of the room, crossbows ready. Spike stopped within the circle, and turned to the door just as Buffy entered. Willow began chanting softly.

"Come on, bitch," Spike said. "Let's end this, once and for all."

Buffy walked up to Spike, stepping into the circle as well, and brandished the stake. Spike grabbed her wrist and held it, the stake just inches away from his chest. He struggled against Buffy's arm as they pushed in opposite directions. Willow had begun dusting the circle with the Agarwal. The stake inched closer to Spike's chest. He realized that he was going to die, but he didn't care. At least Buffy would be trapped in the circle, trapped between the small red candles, accompanied only by flecks of a bright green herb and the dust that used to be him.

Suddenly Buffy stopped fighting against Spike. She relaxed her arm, but the force of Spike's pushing caused it to fly backwards. The stake fell to the ground. Buffy used her other arm to punch Spike in the face, sending him flying to the ground outside the circle. Then she turned to Willow and grabbed her hand just as she was about to release the last bits of Agarwal.

"How stupid do you think I am, you gay witch slut?" Buffy said viciously.

Still holding on to Willow's hand, Buffy kicked over the candles that surrounded her. Their flames caught on the carpet and started a small fire. Then Buffy put her hands to Willow's head. She held her firmly at the ears, muscles tensed, poised to snap Willow's neck in an instant.

Willow's eyes went wide with fear. "Buffy...please..."

A small cry escaped Buffy's lips, and she released Willow's head. She turned to see Spike standing behind her, his posture weak, his knees faltering, and his face half-hidden by blood. He had retrieved the stake she'd dropped and buried it in her back. Buffy's face flushed with pain. She cried out again as an arrow struck her in the stomach.

Spike heard Willow's voice in his mind again. "Can you knock her out?"

I can try, Spike thought.

Spike reached back to deliver the blow, but Buffy blocked it by grabbing Spike's arm and twisting it. Then she head-butted him hard, and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Buffy stood in the center of the room, holding her midsection and panting in pain. For a moment she looked exactly like the girl they had all once loved.

"Buffy," Xander said, lowering his crossbow. "You don't want to do this. We can help you."

"Xander?" Buffy's eyes dampened, and she coughed.

Xander took a step forward. Then he too doubled over, as Buffy withdrew her knife and threw it expertly into his stomach.

"Aggression is a natural human tendency," Buffy said as she back towards the door. "You can't stop it. And you won't stop me. I promise, I'll kill you all."

*

When Spike woke up, Dawn's arms were around him.

His chest had been cleaned off, leaving only the healing cuts that criss-crossed his torso. He was lying on his back on one of the motel room's beds, wearing only his blood-stained pants. Dawn lay asleep next to him, one arm thrown over his injured chest, and her head resting against his arm. He could feel the hard gold of her necklace against his bare flesh.

When Spike looked down at her beautiful sleeping form, and realized that she was unhurt, he started breathing. The up-and-down motion of his body woke Dawn.

"You're alive," she said when she looked up at him. Her eyes seemed relieved at this, but her face was stoic. "I thought maybe you were dead, but Giles said vampires *always* turn to dust when they're dead, but still, since you don't have a heartbeat to check, I was afraid."

"I'm fine," Spike said.

"You know what's funny?" Dawn said sadly. "When I was little, I thought dying was the worst thing that could possibly happen to someone. But then I found out about vampires. How something could kill you, but still keep your body, and make you do terrible things. Then what happened to Tara when Glory hurt her, how she was still alive but not the same person, and you knew that she was somewhere inside there, but you couldn't get to her. And now Buffy...like this...and now it's like..." Her big eyes glistened with tears. "I didn't know that there could be so many things that were worse than dying. Like when I was afraid that Glory would kill me, but I guess that wouldn't have been so bad. I mean, at least it was only death."

Dawn collapsed into weak sobs. Spike sat up and drew her close to him, his arms firm around her small body.

"Dawn..." he said. His voice was deep and masculine, and Dawn, her ear pressed to his chest, felt him speak her name through the vibrations of his body rather than hearing it.

"I know I promised you I wouldn't die," she said through her tears. "And I don't want to. But with all the terrible things that could happen to me...and to you...everyone I know could be killed, and it's all my fault. *Again.* So I might as well just let it happen."

Spike held Dawn tighter, careful not to injure her with his strength, wishing that he could pull her into his body entirely, where nothing could hurt her. Her sobs slowly subsided into ragged breathing. "I won't let you die, nibblet. I don't promise a lot of things, but I promised Buffy I'd protect you till the end of the world, and I promised you the same. But...if you don't have the strength to fight anymore, it's okay. You don't need to fight. That's for me to do. I'll make sure you'll be alright, no matter what it takes, even if it bloody kills me. You just live, that's all I want from you, for you to keep living." He took in a deep breath, and noticed it immediately. Three times in twenty-four hours now he had found himself breathing unconsciously for the first time in a century. And he was sure what it meant. "I love you, Dawn."

He looked down at her to gauge her reaction, but she was fast asleep, warming Spike's chest with her breath. He lay her down on the bed and went outside for a smoke.

*

Spike leaned against a car parked directly outside his motel room door and lit another cigarette. He jumped to attention when he heard a door open, but then relaxed against the car again when he saw that it was only Willow.

She approached him with her characteristic sweet smile. Spike nodded as a greeting.

"Hi," Willow said. "Is Dawn okay?"

"Yeah. Sleeping." He gestured towards the door she had come out of. "How's everyone in your camp?"

"Xander was pretty hurt," Willow said. "But he should be okay. Anya took him to the hospital, just in case."

Spike nodded.

Willow looked out at the parking lot and the railroad tracks beyond it. It was late, and few people were outdoors. The only sound was the wind rustling tree leaves, as if threatening a summer storm.
"The Agarwal was all burnt," Willow said sadly.

"So that means you can't do the spell again?" Spike asked, already knowing the answer.

"But I'll keep looking." Willow sighed. "It'll take time, but I'll find something to help her."

Spike took a long drag from his cigarette. "Not so sure we have time."

"I know," Willow admitted. "But we have to help her somehow. I can't...I don't think any of us have it in us to kill her."

Spike flicked his cigarette far into the empty night. "I do."

Willow looked as his face. It seemed harder than usual, unlike the Spike she had come to know recently. Do you really mean that?, she thought.

"Dammit, Red, can't you have a normal conversation?" he snapped.

Willow folded her arms across her chest and pouted. "I just wanted to see if you really mean that," she said.

"Uh-huh," Spike said angrily. "So what did you see with your sodding magical mind-reading?"

"You'd do it," Willow said. "You'd kill Buffy, or die trying, because you love Dawn."

Spike groaned and dug in his pocket for another cigarette. "Me and Summers women, right? Turn me into a bloody pansy."

"You're not a pansy," Willow said. "And that's coming from someone who can see into your mind."

"Yeah? So tell me what it's like in there."

Willow considered it for a moment before answering. "You've never felt like you fit in. Even human, and then all the years you were a vampire, you wanted to be a part of something. But a little voice in the back of your mind always told you that you didn't belong. You've spent your whole life - and unlife - trying to prove something. You did it with other vampires, and then you did it recently, with Buffy. But things are different now. Because with Dawn, that feeling starts to disappear. With her, you feel like you belong."

Spike just stared at her, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Willow smiled sweetly. "Was I close?"

Spike chuckled. "Hit the nail on the head there, love."

"Go me," Willow said softly.

Spike chuckled.

Willow gestured to her motel room. "Stop by tomorrow. We're going to come up with a new plan."

"You already know my plan, Red," Spike said.

Willow pursed her lips nervously. "And you're going to do it alone?"

"Best for all of us if I do," he replied. "If I don't make it..." He lit his cigarette to keep from having to finish his sentence.

"But what if you *do* make it?"

Spike looked up at Willow questioningly.

"The others won't like it," she told him. "I'm not sure if I like it either. Buffy is our friend, and we love her. We have a chance to have her back."

"No, we don't," Spike said firmly. "We can't beat her; we've seen that already."

"You love her too," Willow said.

"That's why I can't bloody stand seeing her this way," Spike said. "She was a good person, and she deserves peace. What she is now...it's worse than death."

Willow nodded. For a moment they just stood, feeling the warn night air wash over them.

"I need to thank you," Willow said. "You saved my life. I owe you."

"Don't worry about it, Red," Spike said.

"Okay," Willow replied. "But still, if you need any help...with anything..."

"The psychoanalyzing bit was enough, thanks." Spike said. Suddenly his face lit up. "But if you really want to pay me back, you can go get your girlfriend and bring her out here and the three of us could -"

Willow held up her hand to stop him. "Nice to see that you haven't changed *too* much."

"Still a bad ass," Spike said, though he sounded unconvinced.

"Goodnight, Spike," Willow said.