Spike was watching a game show of some sort when Avery banged into his crypt and sat beside him on the tomb. Her breathing was ragged and shallow and he suddenly noticed the sallow tone to her skin.

"Avery? Hey, pet? You okay?"

She turned to look at him, her eyes lifeless and glassy, tried to say something and promptly passed out.

"Oh God." Spike leapt up and laid Avery out gently on top of the tomb. He pulled at the sweater she had slung over her shoulder, then realized why she had just passed out. Spike dropped the sweatshirt onto the ground and stared at the dagger that was buried in her chest. He thought it was too high to have hit any major organs, but her entire left side was covered in sticky blood, he had no way of knowing how much she'd lost.

"Oh shit, oh shit . . ." he murmured, pacing the crypt. He couldn't go anywhere to find a blood transfusion for her, no way of knowing her blood type and no way of getting her to a hospital in the middle of the day. "What am I gonna do?"

She coughed, waking up for a moment, bringing blood up into her throat. "Spike." She groaned, her head rolling back and forth on the tomb.

"Yeah? I'm here pet, I'm trying to figure out a way to help you." He promised her. "I won't let you get sick."

"If I don't get to a hospital, I'm going to die." Avery whispered.

"Don't say that. You don't know that."

"I've lost too much blood, I need . . . I need a doctor."

Spike paced the crypt. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

Avery began to cough, blood spraying from her mouth. Finally she spoke, "Buffy."

Buffy. The name shot through Spike like a bullet, shattering anything that he had once felt for her. The slayer, the one person in all the world who was sworn to protect people had stabbed Avery.

"We . . . we were training and a knife . . . I couldn't block it." She coughed again, violently this time and Spike froze, listening to her.

"Buffy." He repeated.

"I-it wasn't her fault. She got scared and left me. I came here."

"Stop talking love." Spike said, leaning over her. "I'll get you help, I promise."

Avery reached out and grabbed his arm. "I can't make it to a hospital. This knife has to come out."

Spike nodded, then grabbed a tee shirt from a pile near the tomb. Holding it near the knife, he grabbed the handle and glanced at Avery. Her face was a mask of pain, but her eyes were clear now, staring through him. Spike looked away and pulled the knife out of her chest, then pressed the tee shirt down over it. Avery's eyes snapped back into focus as she screamed in pain.

Having pulled out the knife, Spike tossed it to the ground then placed Avery's hands over the tee shirt that was soaking up her blood.

"Do you trust me pet?" He asked, looking into her eyes.

"You know I do." She replied, her breathing becoming shallow once more.

Forcing the tears from his eyes, Spike leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. They were warm and soft under his and although brief, he poured as much as he could into that kiss. He felt her radiating beneath him and broke off the kiss, then kissed her once more and moved away.

"Close your eyes love." He said to her. "Please remember that this was the only way. I don't know what you'll be like when you wake up, but I did all I could."

Avery's eyes shut slowly, his kiss still burning her lips, his smell clinging to her.

"Hold on just a little longer. I love you." She heard him whisper in the dark.

Spike watched her from above, then, without a sound, he slipped into his vampire visage. He knew his head would feel like it was going to explode but he had to do this, he had to help her. Leaning down, Spike closed his eyes, tightened his grip on the tomb, then sunk his fangs into her throat.

The pain was blinding, more hurtful than anything he'd ever felt. It scorched his brain, spread fire down his face and into his chest. It spread further than it ever had before. Through the blinding haze he felt Avery thrash beneath him and wished he could tell her it was going to be okay, she would live.

He drank from her, trying to manage the pain and waiting for her heart to stop. He could hear it now, like he had pressed his ear to her chest and he waited. His head burned with pain and fire and still he drank, waiting for the last beat. It came finally and he broke away from her, hearing no more and the blaze in his head calmed slightly.

Staggering to his feet Spike ripped open his wrist and let his blood drip into Avery's mouth. It stained her lips red, dripping down her chin and into her mouth. Spike waited, squeezing more blood into her, he waited for the pain in his head to go away and waited for her to awaken. He sat beside her for three hours, not realizing the time that had gone by, his head pounding and his heart breaking every second that went by that she didn't wake up.

When his headache was finally gone Spike stood up and paced his crypt. He sat in the armchair near the television, then stood up again. He paced more, then went to stand by Avery's side. He watched her, staring intently at her serene face, he wished for an instant that he hadn't done what he had. He wished he had just let her go the natural way.

As he was staring at her, her eyelids fluttered. Spike paused, staring at her, wondering if it was just a trick of the eye, his brain making him see what he wanted so badly. He watched her, waiting for it to happen again.

Her eyes opened suddenly, staring blankly out at him. Slowly they registered his face and slowly Avery sat up on the tomb. She looked around the crypt, then her eyes settled on Spike again.

"How do you feel?" He asked.

"Hungry." Avery said, eyes wide. "Why didn't you tell me what this was like? Why didn't you let me know how . . . how exhilarating this was?"

"Because it doesn't compare to being warm and alive." Spike stated.

Avery looked at him. "You're kidding me, right? This feeling of immortality is incredible." She drew in a deep breath. "I don't need to do that. I didn't need that air."

"Avery, I did it so that you could go on living. I did it so we could have a life together."

She glanced at him, looked him over and grinned. "Dream on pet. Whatever life you and Avery could have had was gone the minute you gave me life."

Spike's shoulder slumped. "I didn't know what you'd be like. I couldn't."

She swung her legs off the tomb and wrapped them around Spike's hips. "This is what I'm like baby. Take it or leave it."

Spike couldn't find the words to express the sorrow he felt. He thought in turning Avery he had saved her and instead he had just created a monster. Part of him knew that turning her had been a selfish gesture, wanting to preserve her life in order to share his immortality, but Spike pushed that away. He gently unwrapped her legs from his waist and began to walk away.

"I don't want to see you here when I get back." He said simply.

"Or what?" Avery called from the tomb. "Come on baby! You know you want me."

Spike turned back to look at her sadly. "I did. I even loved you, but this . . . this isn't you."

"Don't I have a soul Spike? Didn't you say if I enjoyed it, it meant I had a soul?"

He shook his head. "No you Avery. Yours was lost." Then he turned away again and left the crypt, closing the door gently behind him. Tears spilled over in his eyes and coursed down his cheeks, torrents of pain being freed from his body. He should have known this would happen, he shouldn't have been so stupid.

"Spike?" The soft voice came from in front of him, so he knew it wasn't Avery. Looking up he could barely see the slayer through his tears.

*This is all her fault.* He reminded himself. *Avery was going to die because of her.*

"Spike, are you crying?" She sounded ready to laugh.

"Sod off slayer." He growled angrily, beginning to walk away.

Buffy immediately sobered. "Spike, what's wrong?"

"Avery had a knife in her chest. That's what's wrong." He turned on her. "Want to explain to me how that happened slayer?"

"I did it." Buffy told him. "I didn't mean to, but it happened and I came to find her. I wanted to apologize and see how she was."

Spike stared at her, disbelief painting his face. "She's dead Buffy. She lost too much blood because you ran away from her and now she's nothing but a corpse. So how the bloody hell is your goddamn apology gonna make that better?"

"What?"

"She died!"

"Is that supposed to be funny?" Buffy asked.

Spike gaped at her. "Why would I find that funny?" He asked. "Why would you say that?"

Buffy pointed toward his crypt. "Because she's standing right there."

Spike turned to find Avery leaning against the door of his home, smiling out at him. There was a dangerous glint in her eye and suddenly Spike was afraid.

"Avery!" Buffy called to her. "Are you okay?"

The other girl came forward, stumbled slightly, then walked toward Buffy. Tears welled up in her eyes as she neared them. "Buffy . . . I'm so glad you're here. Spike tried to," she gasped for breath, forcing the tears from her eyes, "he tried to kill me."

The slayer turned angry green eyes in the vampire's direction as he held up his hands defensively.

"Avery," he breathed, "please don't do this."

Collapsing into Buffy's arms, Avery began to cry, shuddering sobs that wracked her entire body. The slayer held her tight, murmuring soothing words into her ear and glaring at Spike all the while.

He kept shaking his head helplessly and was looking at the ground when Buffy cried out and pushed Avery away.

She was in full vampire face, blood clinging to the tips of her fangs. Buffy was holding her neck and looking at her in fear. Then suddenly, an understanding came across her face.

"Spike, how could you do this to her? How could you?"

"I thought you hated her!" He yelled.

"I don't hate her! And even if I did you have no right to do something like this to a person." Buffy stared at him in disgust. "I thought you had changed."

"Oh, he has," Avery said, "he slept with me last night, holding me close and making me feel safe. He loved me. But you killed me Buffy, you ruined our relationship."

The slayer glanced back and forth between the two of them helplessly.

"We could have had everything, but you tore it away from us." Avery glanced slyly in Spike's direction. "We could still have everything, if you come with me. If you help me kill her."

Spike swallowed hard, then nodded. "I'll do it." He said. "I've waited so long for something like this to happen. Let's kill her together."

Avery smiled, genuinely smiled for the first time since she had woken up in Spike's crypt. Her eyes lit up with an obscene pleasure that Spike remembered from two nights ago, a time that seemed so far away. She took two steps forward, reached for Buffy and grabbed her by the throat. The slayer was unmoving, sensing something, knowing Spike had a plan of some sort.

Spike flashed an encouraging grin at Avery and stepped toward her, closing the distance between him and Buffy to almost nothing. One of his hands stroked the back of Buffy's neck in a disturbing way that caused her to shudder. Avery smiled at this.

Spike leaned forward and kissed Avery gently on the forehead. "I did love you." He whispered. "It might have only been two nights, but I loved you." His hand slid off Buffy's neck and slowly found its way into his duster. He kissed Avery again, this time on the cheek, trying to avoid her mouth full of fangs. He didn't want to remember her that way. His lips pressed against her face, wishing he could feel her warm skin just one more time and he drew her close, pulling his hand out of his jacket at the same time.

As Avery leaned into him, Spike closed his eyes and thrust the stake forward, hearing it crunch through bone and strain through muscle. He didn't open his eyes, didn't want to see her dissolve into dust. He waited until he could no longer feel her in his arms, then opened his eyes and tucked the stake away.

Buffy coughed gently. "Thanks Spike."

"Can you not speak to me?" He asked. "I've had a bloody rotten night and I'd just like to head back to the crypt and watch a little telly."

She nodded. "Yeah. Are . . . are things ever going to be right with us again?"

The vampire stared at her, trying to find what he once loved about those green eyes. Instead he found himself wishing that they were a deep blue. Slowly he looked down. "I don't know slayer. Right now it's not and I can't see the future."

Spike watched her for a moment longer and shrugged. Letting out a long, deep breath he turned and began to walk back to his crypt. Buffy watched him go, wondering how much her life could change in only two days.



* * * *



Spike sat on the edge of the bed he had shared with her and put his head in his hands. Her open duffle bag was at his feet and he reached into it, pulling out the tee shirt she had worn the night before. Pressing his face into it, he breathed in, taking in the smell that he knew would only last for so long. Eventually it would fade from her clothes and he would have nothing left of her.

The tee shirt smelled deeply like her, the scent embedded in the fibres and Spike pulled off his own tee shirt and slipped the one she had worn over his head. He curled up in his bed and buried his face into the front of the shirt. He fell asleep, imaging she was there and feeling the faint tickle and scent of a wind that had come off the ocean.



The End