Untitled Document Beyond Death's Gifts
by Phoenixstitch 5/22/2001

This was written immediately after "The Gift" and Angel, with no VCR to help out—just memory and impressions of what I saw, and felt of the 5th season ender knowing that Buffy is somehow going to coming back for 6th season, and maybe how. This is not a happy fic, and may be a bit on the painful side. I write real life, and tend to get gritty too with language, and situations. All the usual disclaimers to Josh Wheldon, Mutant Enemy, and all other PTB etc.. Rating—if you can watch the show you can read this. If you want to archive this somewhere, just let me know. Comments, gripes, or whatever--Vickey/phoenixstitch vbmacky1@yahoo.com. My Buffy site: In The Heart of Darkness--http://fangslover.fanspace.com/
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Part 1

Dawn's blood had quit flowing before Buffy had left her sister's side to turn, and run across the metal platform where the portal gaped open spewing out monsters, and letting the fabric of her world's reality mutate and distort. It had only taken a few drops of Dawn's blood to activate it, and call it into existence thanks to the being called Doc', who had slipped past them all to do the ceremonial cutting since Glory, herself was out of it between Buffy beating her, and Giles murdering her mortal vessel, Ben. All their planning had failed. Their reality, their universe, and that of untold numbers of other dimensions also hung in the balance. It was up to her again to be the hero, the unknown savior for all. Just her. Just a girl. Always her alone.in the end.

Dawn tried to stop her, but Buffy had made up her mind. The portal had to be closed, and it had to be by living blood—their living blood. Summer's blood. If Dawn was the Key, then she was the Lock. It couldn't be more simple than that. It had all been there before them. The monks had told them true. She knew what she had to do.

Having said her goodbyes to her sister, Buffy steeled herself, and ran into the light feeling the wild energies of the dimensional vortex course, and sear through her. Behind her she felt the ugliness, and monsters that had escaped begin to be pulled back to their source, and return to this dimension where they belonged before the portal itself shrank down, and collapsed upon itself sealing it from her world. They were all safe now. Dawn, Giles, Willow, Xander, Anya, Tara, and even Spike. There was a twinge of regret that she would not be dying by his hands, or in his arms. That was the way she had always thought it should have been for them. She had not expected to meet her final dead alone. She had chickened out on telling him how she did really feel about him—now she could never tell him the truth—that she did love him too after all. She really should have kissed him goodbye.

But knowing that the portal was closed, and all that she cared about were safe made her happy with relief. She had done it. She had saved them all. Her death had been her gift after all. It counted if it had saved their lives, and the lives of untold numbers of beings in all the universes. She had done good. Now she could finally rest.

But where was here? And why was she still aware? When you died, really died didn't you sort of cease to be? Cease thinking, worrying, or caring about those you left behind? At least that's what she had been taught to believe. Wasn't there something about seeing your loved ones on the other side too? "Okay Mom, where are you? Aren't you like supposed to be here to greet me?" Buffy said out loud into the bright swirly mist that surrounded her.

She wanted her mom. She wanted to be safe in her Mommy's arm again. She deserved it now. She had saved the world—again. Hadn't she done good? Hadn't she done what she was supposed to? Where was her rest, her reward, her final peace? Come on give. She begged the silent void around her, her hazel eyes seeing nothingfeeling no other being, or presence besides herself. Sadly she realized this wasn't what she had been promisedso there was no real hope, no promise of company, no heaven, no angels, it was still just her alonealways alone. She had saved the world for this?

Silence answered her. There wasn't even mocking laughter to reassure her she wasn't alone. The only sounds were of the crackling of the energies around her, and whooshing of winds whipping the golden, and rainbow tinged mists around her. She felt her body, and she was surprised to find she still had it, and it had a heartbeat, and she still felt very much alive. She was dead wasn't she? How could she still be alive? This wasn't making any sense at all.

She was still falling too like she was diving through water rather than through this strange air. Without warning the ground came up to meet her—hard, and she was knocked unconscious, knowing no more.

************************************

Giles and the others started towards Buffy's body atop the broken masonry, but with legs that could barely support him Spike was there before him pushing the older man roughly out of his way. He shot him a deadly warning look, and growled at the man to back off. Giles did, finally understanding how deeply the blond vampire had really cared for his mortal enemy. That it had been true love, and not some sick fixation after all. The vampire gathered Buffy's lifeless body into his arms, burying his blood streaked face into her hair, his tears falling on her face, mixing with the dirt, and the blood. Red rain, red rain, it was all just pain'.the red rain that was taking her away from him'the half remembered words of a song screaming mockingly through his grief torn mind.

He howled his anguish to the uncaring heavens, the sound echoing ringingly across the expanse of the warehouseit was animalisticit was primalit was the cry of a lost souless being in torment worse than he had ever known sending chills down the spines of those listeninghis throat was raw with the pain, not caring how he sounded, or looked, or how frightened he was making the others. He already knew it was too late, and nothing could be done. His love, his slayer, his golden, beautiful girl, his matehis world was gone.How could she be gone?

This wasn't the way it was supposed to benot for hernot for themthe dance, luv, our danceit isn't finishedwe didn't finish our danceI promised youthe dance.that was the way it was supposed to be.you, me togethermy teeth on your golden neckyour warm sweet blood flowing through from you to meyes, that was the way it was supposed to be.

He had to hold her one last time, and the memory would have to last for how forever long he remained in this world, and mercifully that time would be very brief indeed, he promised himself feeling the impending approach of the new sun. A stray sunbeam shooting down from the roof, not that far away from where he sat. It would be so easyso quickno one would really care enough to stop him. This was a new day that didn't have her in it, nor would it have him for very long. He could have that final peace, that final gasp at last for both of themfor there was no reason for him to go onnone at all nowit was done.

He drew back to look down at her face, the warm hazel eyes closed with dark silken lashes, the eyebrows untroubled, the forehead unfurrowed in anger, or deep in thought, all blushes were gone from her cheeks, the generous mouth he had wanted to lose himself in seemed to be curved in a slight smile of happiness, or realization of a final contentmentall her features radiated peace, he thought. Peace at last from all the pain, and heartbreak in her all too brief life. His pale thin fingers tenderly brushed back a few golden strands of hair from that face he had grown to love. Even feeling just the empty shell he held, he who walked a thin line between life and death himself could not accept that this was really it. The endgame had finally come at last.

He spoke to her like he was speaking to a child, knowing she was far beyond hearing him now, but these were the last words he had to say. He had to get this out. "No..ooo, there had to have been another way, luv. I can't bloody well lose you now. We need youwe all need youI need you. God, Buffy, I need you so muchthere was so much I wanted to tell you, show youall I wanted to do was love you even if you never loved me back—I still loved youI will always love you. You were my soul, and without you nothing matters," he wailed, not caring who saw him cry as he rocked back, and forth with her lifeless body held tightly in his arms. There was no chance of resurrection from this. That even if he didn't have the chip, the spark of life was gone-- he couldn't bring her back from this true death. She was gone from all of them—forever.

No one dared pry the vampire lose from her, but he and Dawn were going to have to get out of there soon. Spike may have though he didn't have any more to do with this world, but the others weren't so willing to let him go. He was still needed. He was still important to them all, and especially to the young dark haired girl left behind in place of her sister. The Powers That Be were far from finished with this broken shell of a vampire. Buffy had given him a job, and he was the only one that could do it. Somehow they had to bring him back to reality and get him to do what needed to be done. The cops in Sunnydale may not have been too bright, or quick witted, but a dimensional portal, monsters, and strange activity at a construction site at night was bound to draw them to this place sooner, or later.

It was Willow that approached the grieving vampire, her own tears flowing unchecked down her dirty cheeks. "Spike, you have to go. We have to get you out of here. Dawn needs you now. You have to look after Dawnthat's what Buffy would want you to do," she told him gently, kneeling down next to him, and placing her small hand on his shoulder.

"Dawn?" he asked blankly, coming slowly aware of what Willow was saying.

"Yes, Dawn. She's alive. She needs youyou promised Buffy," Willow told him, her eyes holding him, willing him to listen to her, hear her words, and understand the danger they still had to deal with.

"PromisedI promised, Buffybut Buffyshe's dead. It wasn't supposed to be this way. She's the Slayermy slayerBuffy's dead, and I can't bring her backI failed her," he said, sobbing harder again, looking away from her, unwilling to meet the red headed witches' eyes.

In the distance they could hear sirens and the approach of police and emergency vehicles. Willow tried again more forcibly. "Spike, you and Dawn have to get out of here—now!' she told him.

"But you,everyone else, Buffy—you're not going to just leave her?" he asked, shaking his head and meeting her eyes puzzled and confused still.

"No, we have to stay, explain. We have to let Buffy's death be reported, and let the authorities deal with her now."

"Like Joyce? Like Buffy's Mum? No, that's not rightI could take herput her where she'd be safe---please Will?" he asked, begging her with his pain filled eyes, his voice cracking with emotion tearing at all their hearts.

Willow shook her head. "No, Spike, you can't. You have to let her go, and get Dawn out of her before they come," she explained again.

Dawn had come over to Willow's side, and stood looking down at Spike holding her dead sister. It was all too unreal. It was all too much like her mother again—except this time it was Buffy. It was Buffy dead because of her. She had seen her sister jump into the portal, and the gateway close behind her to disappear as if it had never been. But how had Buffy's body gotten here on the ground if she had gone into the portal. She never saw her body fall. Something just wasn't making sense.

Giles had come over to, and was getting more, and more worried as the police drew closer. They had to get the teenager, and the vampire out of there. There could be no reasonable explanations for either of them being there. There was going to be enough hell to pay as it was. Dawn did not need to be drug off to foster care, or a juvenile facility on top of everything that she had just been through. At least not this night. Time enough to deal with authorities after the girl had a chance to rest, or they remembered she existed.

"Spike, if you don't want Dawn ending up in foster care, or worse—let loose of Buffy, and get the hell out of here now. Do what Buffy asked you to do—protect Dawn," Giles told the vampire harshly, who glared back at him. At least the Watcher saw that his words were finally getting through to the overwrought vampire.

"Foster care? Over my bleedin' broken body. No one's taking her away," Spike told Giles, his eyes hard, and serious now. "Here, take her, and see that they treat her right," he told the man. Spike kissed Buffy's cold forehead in goodbye, then he handed over Buffy's body to Giles, a bit reluctantly before he pushed himself up from the ground to stand up on shaky legs. He then wiped his wet face off with the back of his hand, streaking the dirt on his face further, but he was beyond caring how he looked.

He was numb, yet in searing pain at the same time inside. He had never felt this way in any of his long unlife. Not even when he was human had he had this much pain. Even when his father had died when he was Dawn's age. He may not have a bloody soul, but what had stood for his was now gone, and only emptiness was there, worse than any he had known in his unlife. Only an awareness of duty, a promise made, and a sense of responsibility to his lost love was making him go on, and do what the watcher, and the witch were asking of him. Even with Glory gone, the girl still had to be protected, and care for. That job was now his. He wasn't going to fail again.

Composing himself enough to function, and do what he needed to do, Spike turned to see Dawn watching him, rather than Giles. She was keeping her eyes adverted from her sister's body that Giles was covering with an bright orange tarp. Xander had gone to sit on the steps with Anya still in his arms. He too was avoiding looking in Buffy's direction. Willow had gone to Tara, and they were sitting on a crate holding on another.

Dawn lifted her long skirt to pick her way carefully across the debris covered floor. Spike looked down to see that she was barefooted. Her feet were stained with dried blood, a reminder of his failure to stop Doc, and were covered in dirt now. "You got shoes?" he asked her, knowing he couldn't carry her all the way home in his weakened condition.

"Back there where they made me change," she replied, pointing back towards the inner rooms.

"Is there a way out from back there?" he asked, the sirens finally registering..

"I think so," Dawn replied, hearing them too, and getting frightened.

"Come on then, before the coppers get here, and muck things up," he told the girl. "I'll take her home. It should be safe. If it's not we'll be at my place," he told Willow, and Giles and saw them both nod in agreement with his plans. Over in the corner he saw Xander holding Anya, "is she going to be okay?" Spike asked Xander.

"I hope so, she's still breathing. I think she's just knocked out," Xander replied, surprised that Spike had noticed that Anya was hurt.

"I hope so too. Can't lose her too. Let me know what happens," he said sincerely, again surprising Xander that Spike would actual give a damn.

"I will or somebody will. Just get Dawn out of here," Xander encouraged, fearful that the two would get caught before they could make it to safety.

"Yeah, we got to get," Spike said his eyes narrowing as he saw the first cop appear in the far doorway. He grabbed Dawn's arms, and they ran back to the inner rooms before they could get spotted. Meanwhile the gang spread out across the room blocking the police's view so Dawn and Spike could continue their escape.

In the back office Dawn found her clothes, and shoes where she had left them. She started to sit down and put her tennis shoes on, but Spike grabbed her arm. And hissed, "later. They're closing in, surrounding this place. Just grab you stuff, and you can put your shoes on once we get clear," he told her then released her arm not before she noticed how much her friend was trembling.

Dawn nodded in understanding, and wrapped all of it up in a tight bundle using her jacket. Going back to the door Spike looked out, and saw that the coast was momentarily clear. He grabbed up a tarp for himself against the rising sun, and threw it over his head and shoulders before picking her up in his arms. Then he sprinted to safety out the opened back door, and into the alley. Dawn knowing how difficult this was, held onto the edges of the makeshift blanket, making sure the tarp stayed over him, being his eyes in this bright new day. Keeping to the shadows, and to the still dark alleyways they managed to get four blocks before he stopped, and set her down on top of a wooden crate, and he retreated to the deeper shadows.

He bent almost double trying to catch his breath which he oddly needed. It puzzled him that he was so out of shape, and weak. Carrying the kid should not have been difficult at all for him. But a lot of really odd weaknesses on his part were beginning to pile up, and bother him since his torture by Glory. When he was recovered enough to speak he told Dawn, his voice wheezing a little, "okay, I think it's safe enough. You can put on your shoes now," he added before leaning back against the weathered brick wall of a building, and digging out a smoke from his pockets.

"Thanks. Are you going to be okay?" she asked after his little display, frowning that he was going to smoke on top of everything.

"Fine, no need to worry about me. Just tired, very tired," he said, wearily, lighting his cigarette with his lighter, the flash of light showing the truth of his statement.

She wasn't buying it, but she wasn't dumb to argue with him either. "Why didn't they all leave? They could have you know?" she asked him as she undid her bundle to get her shoes.

"I dunno, kid. I guess it must come under the heading of being responsible, and all. I wish they had let me take her," he said, his eyes unfocused, as he fought to hold back his pain, and tears again.

In his head he was still back there at the warehouse looking into Buffy's dead face, and the feeling of her cold lifeless body in his arms, and wishing it had all been so much different. All these times he had wished her dead, and told her that to her face to hide his real feelings, he had never really meant it—not ever since they began fighting. He had never wanted her dead, not even by his own hands. How could he go on now in world that no longer had her in it. How could he exist without her? She was his world—he hadn't even known how much that was true until now. He wanted to howl at the moon, scream his pain to the heavens, but he couldn't not yet, not until he got her little sis to safety—then he could let go of it all.

Let the others, the ones that mattered like the Watcher, and lover Wicca's or even the whelp and his girl take care of the child. He was a vampire for christsake, it wasn't his bloody job. It was theirs. He wasn't human, so how could he take care of this now very human girl? It just wasn't going to bloody work. He shouldn't have made that bloody promise to her—to them. Was he stuck with it? And he had to answer yes,-- he was. For better, or worse a promise was a promise, and especially to Buffy.

Dawn looked back at him worriedly, knowing he was in far worse shape than she was. But he was all she had, and she needed him now more than ever. He could breakdown later. "Spike, you got to keep it together. We got to get home. We can't stay out here. What if any of Glory's minions are still lurking about?" she asked, putting on her tennis shoes, and tying the up the laces.

He remembered the fight, and few of her people running away. "Yeah, they didn't all get killed. You're right Little bit," he said taking another drag off his cigarette.

She thought of saying something smart back that she wasn't all that little, but she didn't. Her friend was in too much pain to deal. She didn't even know how bad he had gotten hurt in the fight, but here in this dark alley was not the place to check over their injuries. The cuts on her stomach, and feet still stung. At least the bleeding had stopped, but walking was going to be difficult. Her socks were sticking to the blood. Already she could feel the fabric of the shoes digging in, and rubbing against the cuts. She pulled her dirty T-shirt over her head to cover the torn spots on her dress, then slipped her jacket on against chilly morning air. Her pants, she was just going to roll up, and carry rather than just dumping them. "We can go now," she announced. "Are we very far from the house?' she asked having very little idea where they were.

Spike snapped back to awareness with her question, and focused on her, and their situation. A situation he had never ever thought he'd find himself in of taking care of the slayer's now very human, and very alone little sister. He had made a promise to both their Mum, and to Buffy, and he would see this through no matter what the cost to him. Right now he had to get her home safely. Considering the active demonlife of Sunnydale, it was not as easy as it sounded. It was just sunrise and the demons and vampires were hopefully in for the day, but not all species were allergic to sunlight. "Not too far, ten blocks or so I think. We'll keep to the back ways in case they are looking for us. Hopefully, no one will know we were there."

"Yeah, I hope so too. The school was threatening Buffy already about taking me away because I was cutting school, and messing up after Mom died. I don't want to go away. This is my home. You, and the guys, you're my family. I'm scared, Spike, really scared now," she said, trying to hold back her tears.

"I won't let anyone get you, take you away. We'll find a way to keep you safe. We'll figure all this out, I promise," he told her going over to where she stood, and letting himself wrap his arms around her to hold her while she cried into his not that clean T-shirt. "But we got to get going. We got a ways to go, and the sun is already up," he warned her, knowing they had an hour, or maybe less of walking to get to her house or the cemetery which ever they decided to go to first.

"Okay," she said, reining in her tears, and swiping her wet eyes off on the shelve of her coat. The coat was toast as were all her clothes, so what did it matterreally what did really matter now? Her life was nothing, but a big blank nothing filled with fear, and uncertainty about the future. Her destiny such as it was now lay twinned together in the hands of this vampire, and they both knew it.

Taking her hand, the vampire making sure his bright orange tarp was secure over his body, and the oddly dressed teenager walked down the alley trying to get to safety before either the hunters, or the sun got them first.

End Part 1