A/N: Now, I can finally say that this story is rated R for language. Spike tends to say the f-word about four times in this part...

Part Seven

He slept through the whole day. When the sun said goodnight and fell below the horizon, Spike had wordlessly descended the stairs and went out into the little courtyard, plopping down on one of the stone benches.

The others watched him worriedly. Angel turned to Lorne.

"Okay, I've known Spike for over a century, but I haven't seen him this torn up inside. Not even when Dru dumped him. So, what gives?"

"Look, Sweetcakes, as much as I'd like to, I can't tell you. That's up to him."

Angel sighed, resigned. As much as he wanted to know what was troubling him grandchilde, he knew Lorne would never betray Spike's confidence; he'd have to wait, like Lorne said.

The green-skinned demon pointed to the courtyard, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see what's troubling Cheekbones."

Spike was hunched over, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He said nothing when Lorne sat beside him; he didn't even acknowledge the singing demon.

"Want to talk about it?" Lorne asked.

Spike just groaned in protest.

"No, of course, you don't," Lorne continued. "For years, you've tried to express yourself, but no one listened. So you've learned to keep it inside, expressing your true thoughts in your journal, which you hide from prying eyes. Did she even know your fears when your chip was removed?"

Spike's head jerked up to glare at Lorne, "How the 'ell-"

"I read you, remember? I know."

"Well, then, you know why I didn't tell her. If I told her my dreams, she'd stake me on sight, regardless of her feelings. She's the Slayer, first and foremost." He reached into his duster pocket and pulled out his lighter and a cigarette.

"Does she love you? Trust you?" Lorne asked.

Spike's hands suddenly shook uncontrollably as he tried to light his cigarette. He couldn't and let out a frustrated growl. Lorne took the lighter from the vampire's hand and lit the cigarette for him.

Spike let out a small 'thanks' before standing up to pace.

"If she did, I doubt she does now." He stopped and looked at the ground. "God, she was right about me. I *am* an evil disgusting thing. And a coward."

Lorne sighed, "You're not a coward, Spike."

"Like hell I'm not! I am a fuckin' coward! I was too afraid to tell anyone what was going on. I was scared of how they'd react. It took two fuckin' years for me earn enough of their trust so that their hearts wouldn't pound in fear any time I was in the room. I was afraid that if I told them was I having dreams about killing again, I'd be right back where I was.

"And Buffy?" It took the most with her. I guess you could say I turned her whole way of viewing the world upside down. Spike, the soddin' vamp who can love without a soul. Couldn't be possible. After all, the only thing vampires and demons are supposed to know and care about is hate and evil. You know what she did when I told her I loved her? De-invited me from her house. Slammed the door in my face. Took a life or death situation for her to trust my intentions enough to let me back in. But not into her heart. But she finally, *finally* let's me in and I fuck it all up."

Spike returned to his seat on the stone bench and placed his face in his hands, having abandoned his cigarette during his outburst. Quietly, he continued, "After...after I attacked her, I didn't even stay. I took off. I was too much of a bloody coward to face up to what I did. I...I don't even know if she's...alive. I didn't even check." He choked on a sob that threatened to come. He felt tears burn the back of his eyes but refused to let them fall.

Lorne looked at the vampire sympathetically, "She's fine. She's alive."

Spike's eyes jerked up to look at Lorne, "Wha-?"

"When I read you, I realized your fears. So I called all the hospitals in Sunnydale. I managed to find her. Told the nurse I was her brother who unfortunately couldn't make it to see her. Worked my natural charm and the nurse was kind enough to give me a full report on Buffy's condition. She's fine."

Spike let out the breath he was holding, despite the face he didn't need to breathe. Slowly, he nodded, saying, "Then I have to stay away from her."

Lorne sighed. This was going to be harder than he would have liked. "Do you love her?"

"What the bloody hell kind of question is that? You know I do. Love 'er more than anything. And I want more than anything to go to her, but I can't."

"And why not?" Lorne asked innocently.

Spike growled and jumped to his feet, "Are you bloody daft?! I almost fucking killed her!"

Neither he nor Lorne saw Angel's fist fly at Spike's face.

Buffy breathed in the salty air as she stood on the beach, watching the sun rise above the ocean. She smiled as she felt two strong sinewy arms encircle her waist. She felt his lips graze the crook of her neck before he rested his chin against her shoulder.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear.

"I love you, too," she said, turning her head to look into Spike's eyes.

He smiled and kissed her. She turned around in his arms and brought her hands up to bring his face closer, deepening the kiss. He tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her tightly against him. Buffy groaned as his hands moved up to caress her back.

He broke the kiss and began to trail tiny kisses along her jaw and down her neck. When he reached her jugular, Buffy swore she felt two tiny pricks before he jerked away.

Their eyes connected and suddenly, before she could do anything, Spike disintegrated into dust.

"Spike!"

"That is quite unfortunate," a voice with a distinguished British accent sounded behind her.

She spun around to see who is was that spoke. She found herself face to face with a man decked out in elegant nineteenth century clothing. Curly, sandy blond locks fell softly against his forehead. Tiny wire frame spectacles perched atop the bridge of his nose. Behind the frames, beautiful cerulean blue eyes looked into hers. Eyes that looked strangely familiar.

"Spike?"

"Hardly," he smirked.

That's Spike's smirk, Buffy thought.

"William?" she asked.

This time he nodded, "You are correct, milady." He motioned towards Spike's ashes, "But I am a part of him, even if he'd never admit it."

He noticed Buffy's eyes cloud over with tears. And he softened his expression.

"Now, now. We mustn't have any of that. He's not lost to you forever...yet."

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked fearfully.

William ignored her question and, instead, brushed back a section of hair from her neck, revealing Spike's bite marks. He took in a sharp breath as he ran a finger over the two little punctures.

He let his hand drop down to his side, "He didn't mean to do it. I know that sounds a bit immature, but it's true."

Buffy's own hand flew up to her wound as she listened to William's words.

"Spike loves you. Never doubt that. But he's kept something from you. He was afraid what you would do if he told you."

"What are you talking about?" Buffy asked, confused.

"He pretended he was in complete and total control of his demon. But in reality, it was his demon battling for complete and total control. Spike tried to believe he was strong enough to fight it. But, unfortunately, he didn't realize exactly how strong a grip his demon had on him."

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, fear seeping in.

William looked off to the side. Curious, Buffy let her eyes follow his. She gasped when the scene before her was processed through her mind.

There was a group of terrified humans huddled together, trying to find strength in numbers. Before them stood Spike. In his arms, a young girl, not much older than Dawn. She whimpered weakly as Spike drained her. He soon dropped her and looked at the others, smirking as blood dripped from his lips. Without warning, the vampire launched himself at the helpless humans.

Buffy turned away, no longer able to watch. She tried to block out the screams as Spike tore through each and every one of them.

William looked at her, concerned, "Oh, don't worry, milady. None of this has happened. This is a dream, after all."

She glared at him, "I know that. But why are you showing me this?"

"You needed to see what could happen if he doesn't get what he needs most."

"And what's that?"

"You. And your help," William answered simply. "I realize that probably won't be entirely easy, because he did attack you."

Buffy shook her head, "No. It's not me, it's -"

"Your friends." He nodded and looked to the side again. This time, they were in the living room of Buffy's house. Her friends were hanging out, talking amongst themselves.

Buffy looked back at William and nodded, "They don't understand. They'd sooner stake him than help."

William smiled slightly, "You, my dear lady, hold your friends' opinion on too high of a pedestal. Do you love Spike?"

"Yes, but-"

"Do you love him?" he repeated.

She nodded.

"Do you want to help him?"

She nodded again.

"Good. Then it's settled. Because if you don't help him, Spike may become a victim to his own demon."

Buffy's eyes fluttered open. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered the dream. Spike needed her. She had to help him. But where was he? She rolled over onto her stomach and cried into her pillow as she thought about what she may have lost.

End Part Seven