Title: Becoming (The Peacemaker Prophesy, pt 18)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.
Summary: Spike confronts Gwydion and finds out the identity of the sandy
haired killer. Buffy races to save Emma while Spike deals with his
adversary.
Becoming
"F...father?" Spike muttered, staring wide-eyed at the creature before him. He was struck dumb and motionless at the sight. In my line, he thought. Giles said in my line. Vampires. Bloody hell, not my father. Please not my father.
The others were deadly silent, watching the two Vampires in front of them. One masquerading as a man, the other becoming. Buffy stared from the top of the steps, her eyes flipping from Spike to Gwydion. Her daughter's champion. Her daughter's killer. The same endless blue eyes. The same razor sharp cheekbones. The same dauntless presence. A shiver shot up her spine.
A horrified scream broke the silence. Spike's head instinctively whipped around at his daughter's cry and Buffy jumped, startled to attention, clutching the terrified child against her chest. "Emma," Buffy muttered, still too stunned to move.
"Go," Spike called, pushing himself upright. "I've got this, Pet."
"But..."
"Go," Spike pleaded. Buffy ducked back behind the wall at the top of the stairs.
"Named her after your mum," Gwydion said, cracked, bloody grin stretched
across his face. Spike found himself nodding in reply, still shocked into silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike saw Xander pick up Dawn and carry her toward the kitchen.
"Pretty tot," Gwydion continued, eyes still locked on Spike. Spike scanned his father's face, memories blasting through his head like old photographs. Peeking through the picture window as his parents kissed on the front step. His father's pipe. The feel of his suit as they crawled into his lap so he could tell them tales of the world. Daisies. "Did you honestly think I'd fall for it, Wills?" Gwydion said, still locked on Spike like boxers before the first bell. "Do you find me to be that bloody stupid?"
"Couldn't tell. You were too busy hiding," Spike shot back. Gwydion
chuckled.
"And miss *this*?" the older vamp replied, patting his son's cheek.
"Why?" Spike asked, scanning the man's face. Letting his eyes drop over his features, his clothing, his crisp white shirt, immaculately pressed pants, perfectly polished shoes. He'd always been fashionable, Spike thought, cringing even as the idea came to mind. Then he noticed it. Heavy silver. A serpent curled around the sun. A blood red ruby in the center.
The amulet.
"For our kind to flourish, she must die," Gwydion answered, simply.
"Nothing personal."
"Sorry, mate," Spike said, slamming Gwydion back to the door. "Very
personal."
"You and love. You've always been a sap, Wills," Gwydion commented,
dramatically. "Shocked you made it this far." Spike was silent. Love had been his weakness, but also his greatest strength. The memories of this creature still flashed behind his eyes. Ice skating when he was six, clinging to his father's hand. Learning to ride a horse by galloping behind him. Watching him take care of mum. Spike had learned love from this beast that would condemn it. Well, the man before the beast. Gwydion laughed, startling Spike to attention. Spike's hand was clutched firmly around his throat.
"You'd have me live," Gwydion guffawed.
"Wha..?" Spike stuttered, still unable to string together a coherent
thought.
"Look at you, you utter...sap. What a sorry excuse for a Vampire. You look at me and see that ponce who coddled you when you were a sorry excuse for a boy and doted over that woman as if she could do no wrong." Gwydion was laughing as if the thought itself had cracked him.
Spike stared at him in confusion and rage. "You...I..." he stuttered, not quite sure where it began or where it ended.
Gwydion's cackle interrupted him. "You'd have me live," he repeated,
looking at Spike with disgust. "You'd have me meet you at the pub and throw back a pint and trade 'How I Became a Vampire' stories while watching Manchester United and showing me pictures of your sodding tyke!" he exclaimed in amazement and exasperation. "Redeem me with the ever present power of your lily-white love. You bloody Poof! What happened to the dark warrior of legend? The evil prince that Drusilla rambles on about? Hmm, *Spike*?" Gwydion spat Spike's name at his son. Spike shook in startled confusion, which was slowly turning to offense, boiling into rage.
"Well, let me tell you how this works, son," Gwydion continued, pulling
Spike's hand from his throat and dropping at his side, unceremoniously. "I am *not* a traitor to the breed. As it is your destiny to protect the girl, it is mine to destroy her. I could give a tinkers damn about you or the bloody bint you decided to play house with..." Spike slammed Gwydion hard to the wall, eliciting another cracked smile from the older Vampire. "But I came here to kill the girl. So, if you don't plan to do anything about it, then I suggest you step aside." Gwydion finished, pushing Spike with all of the human strength that he could muster. Spike did not budge.
"Do you understand, boy? Even if I do not kill her today, I *will* kill
her."
"Over my bleeding corpse," Spike hissed. Gwydion chuckled again, looking down Spike's body. The wound in his gut was seeping through the bandages, creating a slow, growing circle in the fabric of Spike's shirt.
"Ironic, isn't it?" Gwydion laughed. "You bleeding, and, of course, being a corpse."
Fury ignited Spike's blood, Buffy's blood, and he tossed Gwydion back
against the door with a thud, grabbing the amulet in one hand. "Right
then," Spike said. "Always hated the battles I knew I could win." Spike grabbed the talisman from Gwydion's chest, ripping it off and tossing it toward the living room. Immediately, his father's face changed and Spike could feel the killer inside of him rising, shifting his features, turning him from man to monster.
"Let the games begin," Gwydion blustered, taking the first swing.
*****
Buffy heard a crash and the sound of wood cracking. Emma was hysterical, clinging to Buffy, her little hands clutching Buffy's hair, her mouth parted and desperate, mewling cries escaping into the air. Buffy felt the panic rise like a tide in her veins. Spike. Don't know how long Tara's potion will last. His father. His damned father. The real one. Can't let him do this alone. Not sure if he can.
Emma clung to Buffy and she bounced her instinctively, trying to quiet her. "Look, little one," Buffy whispered, trying to get the baby's attention. The little girl's head swung back and she caught Buffy's eyes with hers. "I need to help your daddy, OK? I need you to be very quiet and I'm going to try and get you to Aunt Anya and Uncle Xander." Mommy's going to run the gauntlet, she thought, hearing the sound of glass breaking and a stream of words spit in accents so thick it sounded like a completely different language. Still, she had to help him and there was no way Buffy was leaving Emma alone again.
As if Emma had been conversing with a friend, she stopped, listening to her mother and stayed perfectly still. Her little mouth closed and she looked up at Buffy with soft and wise and wet blue eyes. Endless blue eyes. "Good girl," Buffy whispered, kissing Emma's head. She stared at the landing, her heart pounding. Just as she stepped to make her move, three of the fairies hopped from the wall and landed, one of each of Emma's arms and one on her head. Buffy was alarmed, but relaxed as a small kind face blinked up at her.
"Let's go," Buffy whispered, taking a deep breath and bolting around the
corner, fleeing down the steps, pausing just as the lower level came into view. The two Vampires were locked intensely in the dining room against the shattered remains of the table. Buffy moved as far to the right as she could. The fairies began to sing or hum or make some noise. Everything still moved, but it seemed as if it faded. Or they faded. Buffy clutched Emma closer and streaked down the remaining steps, through the living room and into the kitchen. The world sharpened again. Buffy wasn't sure if it had been the fairies little trick or the battle that had distracted Gwydion, but she was thankful to have found refuge either way.
The kitchen was empty. Buffy flung open the basement door with her free
hand, hurrying in and tearing down the stairs. Dawn was laid out in the
cot, awake but groggy, her head on Xander's leg. Anya sat at Dawn's feet, nervously toying with her own fingers.
"Buffy," Xander gasped as the woman appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "What in the.. what's going on up there?"
The crashing of wood and glass and the thudding of bodies slamming into
walls and floors with supernatural force echoed above them. "I have to
help," Buffy said, feeling resolve building again. "Dawn. Is she..?"
"I'm fine," Dawn groaned, rolling towards her sister. "Headache-y."
"Is Emma alright?" Anya asked, standing in front of Buffy.
Buffy looked down at the silent little girl with the frightened blue eyes. "I think she's alright. Just scared."
"Know that one," Dawn mumbled. Anya stretched her arms towards Buffy,
offering to take the baby. Buffy clung to her daughter for a moment, not wanting to leave her. Never wanting to leave. Another crash and a torrent of angry words came from above. Reluctantly, Buffy handed the baby to Anya, kissing Emma's forehead as she gave her up. The fairies fluttered over to the cot, alighting on Emma once again.
"I'll tell you when it's safe," Buffy said, taking off at a run towards the basement door.
*****
Willow and Tara slowly opened the kitchen door, hearing the ruckus from the street out front. Buffy burst through the basement door, just in time to see them head around the corner to peek into the dining room. "Willow?" Buffy called.
"What's with all the fightiness?" Willow asked, heading back towards Buffy.
"Get downstairs. Don't leave until I tell you," Buffy responded, gesturing at the door.
"Buffy, what..." Tara stuttered.
"Go!" Buffy ordered. They turned toward the door, knowing that it was best not to question the Slayer at times like this. Just as they were about to disappear down the steps, Buffy called after them. "Tara?"
Tara turned, looking at Buffy. Seeing the fear under the resolve. "Yeah."
"Did you find...help?"
"Yes," Tara answered, smiling hopefully. "But it's another Vampire, so he can't be here until after sundown."
"Good."
The girls disappeared down the steps.
*****
Buffy ran for the weapons chest, grabbing both sword and stake and headed for the staircase. What she saw was the most incredibly powerful and heartbreakingly sad displays she could imagine. They were both in game face, bloody, torn, battling at full force across what was left of the dining room. A gash disguised Gwydion's face with a horrible red mask, but his blue eyes pierced the haze. Spike. Spike's shirt was soaked through and his face was a mixture of horror and rage and pain. The match seemed almost even. Blow for blow. Kick for kick. Word for word. Hurt for hate.
Buffy ran into the room, throwing herself into the fray with a kick to
Gwydion's chest. The older Vampire flew across the room, smacking into the far wall. Spike spun, looking at Buffy as if shaken from a nightmare. He scanned her instinctively for injury and then for memory. "Buffy," he whispered, as if he had not seen her in years.
"Spike," she answered, touching his arm. Gwydion was stirring, pushing
himself upright against the wall. "Spike, are you.."
"Have to do this, Pet," he said, his eyes full of stinging unshed tears.
She didn't understand. At least not at first. They had always fought as one. "Please, Love."
Buffy studied his face. His longing, sad eyes. She stepped back,
stretching her hands forward, offering him the sword in her left hand, the stake in her right. He reached forward, taking the stake, his fingers brushing hers as he grabbed hold. "I love you, Pet."
"Always," she answered, backing towards the staircase as Gwydion found
purchase on the rug and lunged forward, knocking Spike to the floor. Spike growled, the rage coming back. There were no words left to say. His father had died so many years ago, and the beast that stole his body was nothing more than a common demon. One he and Buffy had battled every night. No pipe smoke. No stories. No daisies. Nothing.
Spike grunted, throwing Gwydion over his head with a push of the legs. The older Vampire was tossed into the wall like a rag doll, sliding to the floor in a heap. Spike flipped to his feet, jumping towards the struggling pile, stake raised in his right hand.
Gwydion laughed.
Spike hesitated.
"You can't do it," Gwydion said, reaching down, grabbing for a splintered table leg.
"Spike!" Buffy yelled from the stairs. Spike spun, kicking the wood from Gwydion's hand.
"You'd *still* have me live."
Spike shot a glance at Buffy. She stared at him with sad eyes, finally
understanding. Why this, she thought. Why take away this too? It seemed everything good had been taken from them. Every memory. Everything but each other.
"Spike stepped toward Gwydion, planting a boot in his gut. Gwydion laughed, coughing, blood trickling from his lip. "Son," he whispered, staring up at Spike with clear and empty eyes.
"You are not my father. My father is dead," Spike sputtered, leaning
forward and plunging the stake into Gwydion's chest.
*****
Buffy ran into the dining room as Gwydion's shocked expression dissolved
into a shower of ashes. Spike fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. Buffy skidded to her knees next to him, touching his face, turning it towards her. His eyes. Behind the dewy tears, she could see them changing. That cold vacant stare slowly pushing out the blue.
"Spike?" Buffy asked, as he doubled forward, his hand slapping against the wound in his gut. She looked down and saw the blood seeping through his fingers, dripping in silent pools to the floor. "Spike.." she gasped.
His head whipped up and he stared at her face, studying it, taking a
snapshot to carry around in his mind. To add to the millions of others that were already there. "Buffy, I.."
"Spike, are you alright?"
"Buffy?" he looked at her, confusion passing over his face. His brow
furrowed as he toppled back. Buffy caught him before he hit the floor,
pulling his head into her lap. "Buffy, Love," he whispered, looking up at her, his confusion now terror.
"Come on, Spike. The doctor will be here soon," Buffy whispered, her own tears falling. Soon was not soon enough. She knew it. She felt it rip through her heart like a sword. Buffy pressed her hands against the wound trying to physically hold it together. Make it stop bleeding. Make it stop killing him. "Spike, hang on. It'll be OK. We'll set things right. Always do." He just stared at her quizzically, faintly remembering saying that to her. "Tara! Willow!" Buffy screamed, as his eyes became more vacant. There was less and less of him in that gaze.
"Am I dying?" Spike asked, almost like a child. Buffy choked, her tears catching in her throat.
"I won't let you," she answered, tears slipping down.
"Can't cheat death, Love," he whispered. "You know that."
"Then don't go," she replied, hearing feet stampeding up the stairs. "Stay with me. Stay with Emma. We need you. I need you, Spike."
He smiled at her. "Not half as much as I have needed you," he answered.
Willow and Tara appeared in the doorway. Buffy turned her head, her body shaking, glancing over at the girls. When she turned her head back, Spike's eyes had closed. His gentle face was slack. Like a little boy. Asleep.
To be contd.
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.
Summary: Spike confronts Gwydion and finds out the identity of the sandy
haired killer. Buffy races to save Emma while Spike deals with his
adversary.
Becoming
"F...father?" Spike muttered, staring wide-eyed at the creature before him. He was struck dumb and motionless at the sight. In my line, he thought. Giles said in my line. Vampires. Bloody hell, not my father. Please not my father.
The others were deadly silent, watching the two Vampires in front of them. One masquerading as a man, the other becoming. Buffy stared from the top of the steps, her eyes flipping from Spike to Gwydion. Her daughter's champion. Her daughter's killer. The same endless blue eyes. The same razor sharp cheekbones. The same dauntless presence. A shiver shot up her spine.
A horrified scream broke the silence. Spike's head instinctively whipped around at his daughter's cry and Buffy jumped, startled to attention, clutching the terrified child against her chest. "Emma," Buffy muttered, still too stunned to move.
"Go," Spike called, pushing himself upright. "I've got this, Pet."
"But..."
"Go," Spike pleaded. Buffy ducked back behind the wall at the top of the stairs.
"Named her after your mum," Gwydion said, cracked, bloody grin stretched
across his face. Spike found himself nodding in reply, still shocked into silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike saw Xander pick up Dawn and carry her toward the kitchen.
"Pretty tot," Gwydion continued, eyes still locked on Spike. Spike scanned his father's face, memories blasting through his head like old photographs. Peeking through the picture window as his parents kissed on the front step. His father's pipe. The feel of his suit as they crawled into his lap so he could tell them tales of the world. Daisies. "Did you honestly think I'd fall for it, Wills?" Gwydion said, still locked on Spike like boxers before the first bell. "Do you find me to be that bloody stupid?"
"Couldn't tell. You were too busy hiding," Spike shot back. Gwydion
chuckled.
"And miss *this*?" the older vamp replied, patting his son's cheek.
"Why?" Spike asked, scanning the man's face. Letting his eyes drop over his features, his clothing, his crisp white shirt, immaculately pressed pants, perfectly polished shoes. He'd always been fashionable, Spike thought, cringing even as the idea came to mind. Then he noticed it. Heavy silver. A serpent curled around the sun. A blood red ruby in the center.
The amulet.
"For our kind to flourish, she must die," Gwydion answered, simply.
"Nothing personal."
"Sorry, mate," Spike said, slamming Gwydion back to the door. "Very
personal."
"You and love. You've always been a sap, Wills," Gwydion commented,
dramatically. "Shocked you made it this far." Spike was silent. Love had been his weakness, but also his greatest strength. The memories of this creature still flashed behind his eyes. Ice skating when he was six, clinging to his father's hand. Learning to ride a horse by galloping behind him. Watching him take care of mum. Spike had learned love from this beast that would condemn it. Well, the man before the beast. Gwydion laughed, startling Spike to attention. Spike's hand was clutched firmly around his throat.
"You'd have me live," Gwydion guffawed.
"Wha..?" Spike stuttered, still unable to string together a coherent
thought.
"Look at you, you utter...sap. What a sorry excuse for a Vampire. You look at me and see that ponce who coddled you when you were a sorry excuse for a boy and doted over that woman as if she could do no wrong." Gwydion was laughing as if the thought itself had cracked him.
Spike stared at him in confusion and rage. "You...I..." he stuttered, not quite sure where it began or where it ended.
Gwydion's cackle interrupted him. "You'd have me live," he repeated,
looking at Spike with disgust. "You'd have me meet you at the pub and throw back a pint and trade 'How I Became a Vampire' stories while watching Manchester United and showing me pictures of your sodding tyke!" he exclaimed in amazement and exasperation. "Redeem me with the ever present power of your lily-white love. You bloody Poof! What happened to the dark warrior of legend? The evil prince that Drusilla rambles on about? Hmm, *Spike*?" Gwydion spat Spike's name at his son. Spike shook in startled confusion, which was slowly turning to offense, boiling into rage.
"Well, let me tell you how this works, son," Gwydion continued, pulling
Spike's hand from his throat and dropping at his side, unceremoniously. "I am *not* a traitor to the breed. As it is your destiny to protect the girl, it is mine to destroy her. I could give a tinkers damn about you or the bloody bint you decided to play house with..." Spike slammed Gwydion hard to the wall, eliciting another cracked smile from the older Vampire. "But I came here to kill the girl. So, if you don't plan to do anything about it, then I suggest you step aside." Gwydion finished, pushing Spike with all of the human strength that he could muster. Spike did not budge.
"Do you understand, boy? Even if I do not kill her today, I *will* kill
her."
"Over my bleeding corpse," Spike hissed. Gwydion chuckled again, looking down Spike's body. The wound in his gut was seeping through the bandages, creating a slow, growing circle in the fabric of Spike's shirt.
"Ironic, isn't it?" Gwydion laughed. "You bleeding, and, of course, being a corpse."
Fury ignited Spike's blood, Buffy's blood, and he tossed Gwydion back
against the door with a thud, grabbing the amulet in one hand. "Right
then," Spike said. "Always hated the battles I knew I could win." Spike grabbed the talisman from Gwydion's chest, ripping it off and tossing it toward the living room. Immediately, his father's face changed and Spike could feel the killer inside of him rising, shifting his features, turning him from man to monster.
"Let the games begin," Gwydion blustered, taking the first swing.
*****
Buffy heard a crash and the sound of wood cracking. Emma was hysterical, clinging to Buffy, her little hands clutching Buffy's hair, her mouth parted and desperate, mewling cries escaping into the air. Buffy felt the panic rise like a tide in her veins. Spike. Don't know how long Tara's potion will last. His father. His damned father. The real one. Can't let him do this alone. Not sure if he can.
Emma clung to Buffy and she bounced her instinctively, trying to quiet her. "Look, little one," Buffy whispered, trying to get the baby's attention. The little girl's head swung back and she caught Buffy's eyes with hers. "I need to help your daddy, OK? I need you to be very quiet and I'm going to try and get you to Aunt Anya and Uncle Xander." Mommy's going to run the gauntlet, she thought, hearing the sound of glass breaking and a stream of words spit in accents so thick it sounded like a completely different language. Still, she had to help him and there was no way Buffy was leaving Emma alone again.
As if Emma had been conversing with a friend, she stopped, listening to her mother and stayed perfectly still. Her little mouth closed and she looked up at Buffy with soft and wise and wet blue eyes. Endless blue eyes. "Good girl," Buffy whispered, kissing Emma's head. She stared at the landing, her heart pounding. Just as she stepped to make her move, three of the fairies hopped from the wall and landed, one of each of Emma's arms and one on her head. Buffy was alarmed, but relaxed as a small kind face blinked up at her.
"Let's go," Buffy whispered, taking a deep breath and bolting around the
corner, fleeing down the steps, pausing just as the lower level came into view. The two Vampires were locked intensely in the dining room against the shattered remains of the table. Buffy moved as far to the right as she could. The fairies began to sing or hum or make some noise. Everything still moved, but it seemed as if it faded. Or they faded. Buffy clutched Emma closer and streaked down the remaining steps, through the living room and into the kitchen. The world sharpened again. Buffy wasn't sure if it had been the fairies little trick or the battle that had distracted Gwydion, but she was thankful to have found refuge either way.
The kitchen was empty. Buffy flung open the basement door with her free
hand, hurrying in and tearing down the stairs. Dawn was laid out in the
cot, awake but groggy, her head on Xander's leg. Anya sat at Dawn's feet, nervously toying with her own fingers.
"Buffy," Xander gasped as the woman appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "What in the.. what's going on up there?"
The crashing of wood and glass and the thudding of bodies slamming into
walls and floors with supernatural force echoed above them. "I have to
help," Buffy said, feeling resolve building again. "Dawn. Is she..?"
"I'm fine," Dawn groaned, rolling towards her sister. "Headache-y."
"Is Emma alright?" Anya asked, standing in front of Buffy.
Buffy looked down at the silent little girl with the frightened blue eyes. "I think she's alright. Just scared."
"Know that one," Dawn mumbled. Anya stretched her arms towards Buffy,
offering to take the baby. Buffy clung to her daughter for a moment, not wanting to leave her. Never wanting to leave. Another crash and a torrent of angry words came from above. Reluctantly, Buffy handed the baby to Anya, kissing Emma's forehead as she gave her up. The fairies fluttered over to the cot, alighting on Emma once again.
"I'll tell you when it's safe," Buffy said, taking off at a run towards the basement door.
*****
Willow and Tara slowly opened the kitchen door, hearing the ruckus from the street out front. Buffy burst through the basement door, just in time to see them head around the corner to peek into the dining room. "Willow?" Buffy called.
"What's with all the fightiness?" Willow asked, heading back towards Buffy.
"Get downstairs. Don't leave until I tell you," Buffy responded, gesturing at the door.
"Buffy, what..." Tara stuttered.
"Go!" Buffy ordered. They turned toward the door, knowing that it was best not to question the Slayer at times like this. Just as they were about to disappear down the steps, Buffy called after them. "Tara?"
Tara turned, looking at Buffy. Seeing the fear under the resolve. "Yeah."
"Did you find...help?"
"Yes," Tara answered, smiling hopefully. "But it's another Vampire, so he can't be here until after sundown."
"Good."
The girls disappeared down the steps.
*****
Buffy ran for the weapons chest, grabbing both sword and stake and headed for the staircase. What she saw was the most incredibly powerful and heartbreakingly sad displays she could imagine. They were both in game face, bloody, torn, battling at full force across what was left of the dining room. A gash disguised Gwydion's face with a horrible red mask, but his blue eyes pierced the haze. Spike. Spike's shirt was soaked through and his face was a mixture of horror and rage and pain. The match seemed almost even. Blow for blow. Kick for kick. Word for word. Hurt for hate.
Buffy ran into the room, throwing herself into the fray with a kick to
Gwydion's chest. The older Vampire flew across the room, smacking into the far wall. Spike spun, looking at Buffy as if shaken from a nightmare. He scanned her instinctively for injury and then for memory. "Buffy," he whispered, as if he had not seen her in years.
"Spike," she answered, touching his arm. Gwydion was stirring, pushing
himself upright against the wall. "Spike, are you.."
"Have to do this, Pet," he said, his eyes full of stinging unshed tears.
She didn't understand. At least not at first. They had always fought as one. "Please, Love."
Buffy studied his face. His longing, sad eyes. She stepped back,
stretching her hands forward, offering him the sword in her left hand, the stake in her right. He reached forward, taking the stake, his fingers brushing hers as he grabbed hold. "I love you, Pet."
"Always," she answered, backing towards the staircase as Gwydion found
purchase on the rug and lunged forward, knocking Spike to the floor. Spike growled, the rage coming back. There were no words left to say. His father had died so many years ago, and the beast that stole his body was nothing more than a common demon. One he and Buffy had battled every night. No pipe smoke. No stories. No daisies. Nothing.
Spike grunted, throwing Gwydion over his head with a push of the legs. The older Vampire was tossed into the wall like a rag doll, sliding to the floor in a heap. Spike flipped to his feet, jumping towards the struggling pile, stake raised in his right hand.
Gwydion laughed.
Spike hesitated.
"You can't do it," Gwydion said, reaching down, grabbing for a splintered table leg.
"Spike!" Buffy yelled from the stairs. Spike spun, kicking the wood from Gwydion's hand.
"You'd *still* have me live."
Spike shot a glance at Buffy. She stared at him with sad eyes, finally
understanding. Why this, she thought. Why take away this too? It seemed everything good had been taken from them. Every memory. Everything but each other.
"Spike stepped toward Gwydion, planting a boot in his gut. Gwydion laughed, coughing, blood trickling from his lip. "Son," he whispered, staring up at Spike with clear and empty eyes.
"You are not my father. My father is dead," Spike sputtered, leaning
forward and plunging the stake into Gwydion's chest.
*****
Buffy ran into the dining room as Gwydion's shocked expression dissolved
into a shower of ashes. Spike fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. Buffy skidded to her knees next to him, touching his face, turning it towards her. His eyes. Behind the dewy tears, she could see them changing. That cold vacant stare slowly pushing out the blue.
"Spike?" Buffy asked, as he doubled forward, his hand slapping against the wound in his gut. She looked down and saw the blood seeping through his fingers, dripping in silent pools to the floor. "Spike.." she gasped.
His head whipped up and he stared at her face, studying it, taking a
snapshot to carry around in his mind. To add to the millions of others that were already there. "Buffy, I.."
"Spike, are you alright?"
"Buffy?" he looked at her, confusion passing over his face. His brow
furrowed as he toppled back. Buffy caught him before he hit the floor,
pulling his head into her lap. "Buffy, Love," he whispered, looking up at her, his confusion now terror.
"Come on, Spike. The doctor will be here soon," Buffy whispered, her own tears falling. Soon was not soon enough. She knew it. She felt it rip through her heart like a sword. Buffy pressed her hands against the wound trying to physically hold it together. Make it stop bleeding. Make it stop killing him. "Spike, hang on. It'll be OK. We'll set things right. Always do." He just stared at her quizzically, faintly remembering saying that to her. "Tara! Willow!" Buffy screamed, as his eyes became more vacant. There was less and less of him in that gaze.
"Am I dying?" Spike asked, almost like a child. Buffy choked, her tears catching in her throat.
"I won't let you," she answered, tears slipping down.
"Can't cheat death, Love," he whispered. "You know that."
"Then don't go," she replied, hearing feet stampeding up the stairs. "Stay with me. Stay with Emma. We need you. I need you, Spike."
He smiled at her. "Not half as much as I have needed you," he answered.
Willow and Tara appeared in the doorway. Buffy turned her head, her body shaking, glancing over at the girls. When she turned her head back, Spike's eyes had closed. His gentle face was slack. Like a little boy. Asleep.
To be contd.
