Undone Five

A/N: Includes lines from the poem, Invictus by William Ernest Henley. Thanks go to Sass for the beta and for putting up with all my bitching about this chapter, as well as to faerie babee, whose review inspired me.

*****

As the blackness dissipated, Buffy looked around, feeling uncertain. "What are

we doing here?" she asked, studying her surroundings. "I know this place. It's the cemetery on the west side of town. And that's… oh. An open grave." She crept closer to the grave's edge and peered inside. "There's someone in there. I can't see his face, just his back, but I think he's digging the body up. Spike, this must be your memory, not mine. I've never been here before."

            "Bugger," Spike muttered. He backed away from Buffy, recognition obvious on his face. Grabbing the Seer's arm, he said, "C'mon, onto the next, alright? Nothing to see here."

            Buffy quirked her brow. "Nothing you want me to see, that is," she said. She got down on her knees for a better look, but the man in the grave was still bent over. "What's going on, Spike? Who is that?"

            "It's…" He hesitated. "Look harder."

            "What?" Her eyes narrowed as the person in the grave raised his head. He was facing the head of the grave, away from Buffy, but no one else could have hair that pale or those lean shoulders. "Spike. Well, I guess it's not surprising. You are a vampire after all, and vamps and graves being the mixy things they are…. But why were you digging it up? Baby vamps do that all on their own."

            He answered by pointing to the tombstone. Buffy Summers. 1981-2001. Beloved sister, devoted friend. She saved the world a lot.

            "That's me… me." It took a second for the idea to sink in. When it did, her back stiffened with astonishment. "You tried to dig me up! Are you insane?" Whirling to face him, her hands in fists, she advanced on him. "How could you do that to me? You… I thought you were different. Different than them. You know better. Enough to leave me alone, at least."

            She hadn't known it was possible for him to grown paler, but he did. Closing his eyes, he pointed again to the grave. "Just watch," he told her.

            Slowly, the other Spike straightened, gripping the shovel like a cane to help him stand. He tipped his head back as if he could feel the weight of the moonlight on his cheeks and stayed frozen that way, gulping breaths making clouds of condensation in the cold air.

            "You were breathing," Buffy said. The tone of her voice surprised her. It was even and calm, as if watching Spike dig up her grave were a normal thing for them to be doing. "Why bother?"

            "We do that. Vampires. When we…" He cleared his throat with a rough cough. "When we cry."

            "Oh," she said in her normal voice, gritting her teeth at the sound. Like it's nothing that he hurt so badly for me. She saw them now, the other Spike's tears, running over his cheeks to drip down his neck. Releasing the shovel, he raised his arms up above his head and cried towards the stars, oblivious to his audience. "Oh. You… you couldn't do it, could you? You tried to dig me up, but…" Her words trailed off as the other Spike climbed out of the grave and began pushing the loose dirt back over the coffin with his hands. "You tried, but you couldn't."

            Spike patted his pocked for a cigarette by habit. He didn't look at Buffy. "Seer, can we go now? Don't know why we're here at all. Nothing to learn about Dawn. Just a…" He waved towards his other self. "This was private. She was dead. I never wanted her to see me this way."

            The Seer cocked his head. "Did you not? Then why did you call out for her?"

            "He's not calling out for me," Buffy said, her attention focused on the other Spike. "His lips are moving, but there's no sound."

            "That is because I have muted the scene. Your worry for your privacy is appropriate, vampire, but you may believe that I wish no undue emotional strain."

            Rolling his eyes, Spike said, "Thanks heaps. Now let's go, already."

            "Wait," Buffy said, moving closer to the other Spike, who knelt in the soft dirt with both hands on her headstone, caressing it gently. "Un-mute it, okay? I want to hear what he's saying."

            Spike snorted his displeasure at that idea. "Buffy, I'm right here. You could just ask me."

"Sure, I could. But I know what you'd say, and it wouldn't be yes."

            ""Course it wouldn't be yes. This…" Taking a step closer to the Seer, he said, "It's not right. You doing this. Poking through my head, showing her these moments of… she doesn't need to see this. It won't help us save Dawn, and it will make things harder when we're done."

            "Vampire, you are correct. Scenes such as this are irrelevant to the objective of seeking the moment of change."

"So far, nothing we've seen has been super relevant," Buffy said. "But hey, we're here. I've already seen this much. Not much of a point in keeping the rest secret."

            The Seer nodded, and as he did, the world was suddenly filled with noise. Birds chirped, tree leaves rustled in the breeze and somewhere in the distance, a car horn honked. 

Startled, Buffy fell back onto her rear. "I didn't realize how quiet things were before you did that," she said, blushing.

            "Hush, Slayer. You wanted to hear him." The Seer pointed at the other Spike. "Be quiet and listen."

            She fell silent, listening, and after a moment the other Spike started to ramble, speaking to the headstone. "Still patrolling with the Scoobies. Don't know why I bother, tell you the truth. Half the time I'd rather see Harris get his head torn off by the monster of the moment. You know that git read Henley at your service?" He made a mocking snort. "Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul. Not that you'd know Henley, but come on, even a half-wit like Harris could think up with something more fitting… something more meaningful to your… to what happened to you. You know?"

He paused for a minute, then went on. "But it's good to get out, see people, even those people. Patrolling with them gives me my spot of violence. Satisfies the beast, you could say. After, I drop by for some time with the Bit. What can I tell you 'bout her? Still cheeky as ever. A klepto too, though she'd never admit it, even to me. Not like I'd turn her in, but at least I could be sure she's being smart about it. Don't want to see her end up in kiddie jail over a tooth brush. 'Nother thing she thinks no one knows… most nights, I watch from outside, I see her go and lie down with the Bot. Snuggles right up and pretends it's you. Now, you might say I'm not one to cast stones when it comes to pretending the Bot's the real deal, but we both know this is different. The Bit puts on a tough front but in the dark, she's just a lonely little child."

            Pulling her legs up to her chest, Buffy buried her face against her knees. "Oh, Dawnie," she said, the words stretching out long and breathy. "I had no idea. Not about any of it."

"Enough, alright?" Spike dragged his hands through his hair roughly. "Enough."

            The Seer clapped his hands, silencing the scene once again.

            "Clap on, clap off, eh?" Shooting a glimpse at Buffy, Spike tried out a smile that didn't quite make it to convincing. "Like that bloody irritating commercial."   

Buffy's gaze flip-flopped between the two Spikes. Skipping over his attempt at levity, she folded her arms tightly around her legs and said, "You watched the house at night? No one told me. And Dawn… my god, she really did that?"

            Spike's shoulders went rigid with tension. "Forget it, Slayer. You wanted to listen, and you did. Don't make me explain. I'm not part of this."

            "If you don't want to talk about it, fine, but you are a part of this, Spike. This is your memory. You brought us here for a reason." She stood and brushed at her pants before remembering no dirt would cling to them. Memory dirt equals no stains. Guess this isn't all bad. Except for the death and the grave and the digging up of my body and the… okay, it's pretty bad. "For a reason, but why? We should stop a minute and work out what's going on."

He relaxed a fraction at the change of topic. "I can't figure it. There must be a reason we're here, but I have no idea what it could be. What does this have to do with you and Dawn?"

            They both turned to the Seer, who shrugged.

            Buffy's eyes widened. "Umm, excuse me? You're shrugging at us? Aren't you supposed to be all-knowing?"

            "Maybe it's channeling a bit of Ethan. Or maybe it just doesn't know." Spike crossed his arms. "Listen, Seer, explain to us a thing or two. Why are we here? And how does this whole thing work, anyway. You were obviously off the mark when you talked about revisiting all Buffy's past uglies. Three memories so far, and two have been mine."

            Blinking serenely, the Seer said, "All will be made clear, in time." 

            "Oh, that's so helpful," Buffy said. At the grave, the other Spike stood, his head bent towards the ground. He put a trembling hand into the pocket of his duster and pulled out a small rosebud. Before he placed it on the stone, Buffy closed her eyes, too perturbed to watch any more. "I don't want to be here. I've seen my own grave a few too many times for comfort. Let's go someplace else now."

            "Somewhere relevant," Spike added.

            "All will be made clear, in time," the Seer repeated in the same, cool tone.

            "In time… great, but how much time? How long is this going to take?" Buffy tapped her temple with one finger. "There are tons of memories in this head of mine. We could spend years hopping through each and every one. And adding Spike's to that-"

            "I've got nearly two centuries worth, myself," Spike said. He stood at Buffy's side, scowling. "You're supposed to be a Seer. Well, can't you just…"

            "See?" Grabbing the Seer's arm- Ethan's arm, she reminded herself- Buffy squeezed hard, her temper rising. "You know what? I'm starting to think you're not being exactly open with us. What's the whole truth, huh? What do you know that we don't?"

            Spike eased closer to Buffy. "Don't set him off, pet," he said. "Remember Brother Pavel."

            "Pavel was super freaked about you," Buffy said, not backing down. She gave the Seer a shake. "But he was only a monk. Only a man. I'm something different."

            "You are a girl," the Seer said, serene even under Buffy's anger. "You are the Slayer."

            "That's right. I'm not afraid of you and believe me, you don't start talking, you're going to find out just how un-monk-like I am." Annoyed with herself- where are all my witty insults when I need them?- she bit down on her lip. "Umm… that's much scarier than it sounds."

            The Seer angled his head oddly to the side. His eyelids fluttered for a moment, then he smiled, somewhat. The expression was so soulless, Buffy dropped her hands from his arm, her nerves immediately put on edge. "It is time now," the Seer said.

            Exchanging a puzzled glance with Buffy, Spike asked, "Time for what?"

            "A last vision, to give you clarity. I will take you to the point of this journey."

The world began to spin and blur. Losing both vision and balance, Buffy reached out for Spike only to find nothing but empty space. She groped blindly at the darkness, her thoughts shrill as screams in her mind. I thought Dawn was the point? What is happening? What don't we know? Which part of if all was a lie?

            With a jolt, the world stilled. Her arms lowered hard, clutching Spike's shoulders before she realized she stood up against his back. Clinging to him for a moment, she took a deep breath, getting her bearings. "Where are we?" She spoke the words into the hollow of his shoulder blades, her forehead pressed against his nape. Nausea rolled through her, and she gulped. "Spike?"

            "Buffy." He drew her around to stand at his side, supporting her while she attempted to gain back her equilibrium. "Look, Buffy."

            "Give me a minute. I'm all wonky-headed." She let herself reel into his side, grateful for the weight of his hands on her shoulders. "Guess it's harder for humans to jump memories that way. Even stronger-than-average humans like me. And here I thought this Slayer stuff had advantages." Where are we, she wondered, unable to raise her head without bringing on waves of dizziness.

            "Buffy, look." Spike wrapped one arm around her and used the other to point through the darkness to…

            She lifted her head slowly, his severe tone piercing through her sickness. "What… what is this?"

            They stood in the living room of the Summers' house. It was nighttime, and the lights were turned out. The television set glowed in the corner, its screen giving just enough light to make visible the three people who were curled together on the couch. Spike sat slouched on the center cushion, his head tipped back, asleep. Two long-haired heads rested in his lap, one blond, one brunette. Buffy slept nestled to his left and Dawn to his right. Dawn's face above Spike's knee was slack, and from her open mouth came soft, rhythmic snores. She's alive. Breathing. But…this can't be a memory. It never happened.

            "It's us," Buffy said. Perplexed shock trumped her nausea and gave her the strength to stand on her own. She shrugged out of Spike's grasp and walked closer to the couch. Glancing briefly at the Seer who stood in the doorway, she gave him a quizzical glare, but she was unable to keep her eyes off the scene for long. "But how…"

            "It's not a memory. It's not even the past. Don't know what's what, but I know that much. Because… well, look. Under his- my- shirt." He bent over the couch and tugged on the edges of the other Spike's unbuttoned shirt, opening it. "Can't be the past. Has to be the future."

            In the flickering light of the television, the other Spike's skin took on a bluish cast. With his head back, the line of his throat drew Buffy's attention first. She skimmed downwards, over his prominent collarbone to the flat, hard pectoral muscles and on them, thick, prominent scars made barely-visible in the dimness. "The scars. You're right. It has to be."

            "It is," the Seer agreed. "The near future. This is where you will find yourselves within the passing of three years. It will occur because of the journey we're taking at this very moment."

               "I get it now," Buffy said. She lowered herself onto the coffee table, her confusion giving way to awareness. "We've been totally mislead. Who was it? You, or the monks?"

            "We are one and the same for this purpose. I aided them in their deception."

            Spike coughed. "Anyone feel like clueing me in?"

"This is the path. Here. Right here. Dawn's path starts today, with this… with… well, I don't know what, exactly. With something we're doing right now." Buffy wound her fingers together, trying to put all the pieces together. "Start with the explanations, Seer. And stick to the truth this time."

"The Abbot told you a tale. He kept it as close to the truth as possible. The parts he lied about, he spoke in opposites. Dawn is your daughter, but it was never in your destiny to conceive her. She was pulled from the future, but a future of the monk's own creation. A future that's being created at this very moment."

"I don't understand. Why did the Abbot lie?" Buffy laid her hand on Dawn's

head, stroking her silky hair. "Why not just tell me the truth? I could've handled it. There's nothing I wouldn't have done to… to make Dawn exist."

            "Slayer, you do not yet understand what has occurred. The monks needed to incapacitate you and thus they brought you to me. They needed to take from your body enough of the essence of your being to create a new life. That life, who will be Dawn, will need to mature to full strength before they can insert the Key."

            Perching beside Buffy on the table, Spike said, "And if Buffy was around and conscious, she'd never let them muck up the Nibblet with the Key. So what are they doing right now?"

            "The new life will be matured artificially, with ancient magicks. Over the course of several days, it will grow into the girl you've always known. Dawn's memories will be implanted, and then, lastly, they will add into her blood the Key."

            Rubbing her face with both hands, Buffy shook her head. "I don't understand. I mean, I do, but I don't. How is this possible? How could they have pulled her out of the future, only to create her now?"

"Sodding paradoxes. Never good for anything but a headache."

            "But that's not what I mean. Why didn't they just create her themselves and be done with it? Why mess with the future? If they hadn't, she wouldn't have… have died, or whatever. The Key wouldn't be coming out of her."

"If they hadn't acted as they have, you wouldn't have come to them and allowed yourself to be incapacitated, mind and body, long enough for the monks to steal your essence," the Seer explained. "There is an element of paradox. However, magic is never without ambiguity."

Spike inched closer to Buffy, positioning himself protectively at her back. "What are they doing to her right now, while we're futzing around in our heads. This stealing her essence bit… what does that mean?" 

            "The Slayer's female essence has already been extracted by magical means and combined with male essence to form the new being. It was a long procedure, but she felt no pain and will bear no marks thanks to my presence in her mind. And in yours, vampire. You too will be unharmed."

            Male… Spike… "Male essence." Buffy braced her hands on her knees. "You mean Spike?"

            "The vampire was the contributor, yes."

            Spike jumped to his feet and backed away from them. He looked from Buffy to the Seer, then to Dawn, where he lingered, his expression caught between panic and fascination. Abruptly, a new thought seemed to strike him, and he strode forward. Seizing the Seer by the throat, Spike pinned him against the wall. "What did you wankers do to her!"

            "I told you, the Slayer wasn't harmed."

            Spike growled low in his chest and tightened his hands around the Seer's throat.  "Not the Slayer, the girl. Dawn. You put bits of me into her? Polluted her that way? You don't call that harm?"

            "I never said the new being would not be harmed," the Seer said evenly, meeting Spike's glare with impassive eyes. "Only that the Slayer would feel no change."

            "No change? Her sister- daughter- whatever, Dawn's got parts of a demon in her. You don't think that'll make an impact?" Spike slammed the Seer against the wood paneling. "Don't you get it? It will change everything!"

            "Spike," Buffy cautioned. She went to him and grabbed his arms. "You want to put down the mysterious, annoyed, extremely-powerful demon? Please?"

            With a snarl of aggravation, he dropped his arms to his sides and loped away to the staircase. He sat and put his head in his hands. Buffy left the Seer where he'd fallen on the ground and went to Spike. "Hey," she said, kneeling in front of him. "Don't wig out on me again."

            "His mind is still protected within the grasp of my powers," said the Seer.

            "Fine, thanks," Buffy snapped at the demon, then softened her voice and touched the top of Spike's head. The hair beneath her fingers felt soft. She pushed down a little, trying to comfort him without words since she knew she had to get him moving. "Spike. Come on. We have to deal with this."

            "Buffy. I…" He picked up his head and dodged to the side, making her let go of him. "I didn't want this. But I… I don't know what to do."

             She got up and held out her hand to him steadily. "Maybe we can fix it. Somehow."

            "No," the Seer said. "You cannot change what has already occurred. Do not be alarmed, vampire. The Slayer is the only essence of importance. You were used because you were available, and for no other reason."

            With her hand still out, Buffy said, "The only one available? There were plenty of monks."

            "It would have gone against their vows to God. The vampire had no such vows. He was the appropriate male in this situation."

            A sudden thought made Buffy recoil. "It could have been Ethan. Oh, thank god he's trapped inside a tree. Or, a tree's trapped inside him. Whatever. It could have been… eww. Just…. eww."

            "And a vampire's better?" Spike shoved her hand away. "Should be wishing it was the sorcerer. 'Least he's human."

            "Spike, it doesn't matter right now. We have to save Dawn. If we can get to her before they put the Key into her, we'll never have to worry about any of this again. No monks, no knights, no hellgods… Dawn will be… well, as normal as she can be." Sticking her hand back to him, she said, "Are you with me?"

            He couldn't meet her eyes, but took her hand and let her pull him up. "You'll be letting us back into our bodies now, right Seer?" he asked.

            "Momentarily."

            "No, not in a moment. Now." Buffy's color rose as anger filled her. "This… this is rape, don't you get that? What they are doing right now to my body, and to Spike's… it's beyond unethical. You're supposed to be a good guy, a good demon. How can you let them… let them…"

            "The Key must be protected. There is nothing more imperative. Even justice."

            Buffy clenched her fists. "No. Because I'm going to get to her before they put the Key in. Before they ruin her life. Then I'm going to make them pay for what they're doing. And you, too, if you don't help us. There must be an axe in the cabana somewhere."

            "Calm yourself, Slayer. The monks are aware of your preference. However, someone must protect the Key, and just as the Slayer's daughter is the only one strong enough to hold the Key within her, you are the only one strong enough to protect it."

"She's not strong! She's just a kid!" I'm going to kill this demon so dead, he'll… he'll…She inhaled deeply, overwhelmed with fury.

            "How much longer?" Spike asked as Buffy tried to settle herself down. He put  his body between Buffy and the Seer.   

            "Only one more minute before I am allowed to return you to your bodies," the Seer said. "It will be several days before the new being matures enough to manage the Key's power."

            "One minute. Slayer? I can go one minute without killing this wanker if… if you can, too. Right?"

            "Right, fine," she said. She paced the entry way with sharp strides. "I'll do whatever I have to do. And you will to, Spike. We need to come out of here kicking. You understand?"

"As soon as he lets us go, I'll be ready. Time yet, Seer?"

"Farewell, vampire. And farewell Slayer," the Seer responded. "We will not meet again."

"Oh, we'll see about that," Buffy said. "Remember what I said about the axe?"

            The words had barely left her mouth when her vision started to spin. The last thing she saw was the Seer with one hand raised in a wave before senselessness overtook her.

*****

            When Buffy opened her eyes, the cabana was dark. Night had fallen during their time with the Seer. She jerked upright, searching the room. Spike sat beside her, rubbing his eyes. Against the far wall, Ethan was lying where the Seer tree had been. Had been?

            "It's gone," Spike said, affirming her thought. "Shriveled up and disappeared into its root system."

            "Maybe I should'nt have mentioned that axe so many times." Buffy stood on shaky legs and made her way over to Ethan. Kneeling beside him, she groped his neck in search of a pulse. "I was really looking forward to hacking it into bits."

            "As was I," Ethan mumbled. He batted away her fingers weakly, yawning. "You've no idea…"

            "Doesn't matter." She grabbed him under his arms and tugged him up. "We don't have time. The monks have Dawn and we have to get to her before they stick the Key in her."

            "I know. I was there, as you may recall." Ethan grimaced as Buffy poked one of the deep wounds where the tree's limbs had impaled him. "Not a willing partner, but an observant one."

            "Yes, you've been abused. Gee, sorry. Get up and quit whining." Buffy turned to Spike. "You okay? Feeling sane?"

            He struggled to his feet, swaying slightly. "I feel better'n Dawn will, we don't get a move on."

            "Okay. It's night, so no problems with the sun. You and Ethan follow me. Keep him on his feet. The monks won't want to hand over Dawn, but hey, they're monks. It's not like they're going to fight me."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "And if they do?"

            "Then I'll fight," she said simply. "If that happens, you grab Dawn."

            "I thought he was helping me?" Ethan asked. He was upright, but leaning heavily against the wall.

            "Dawn first," she told Spike. "Then Ethan."

            "Like I'd do it any other way," he retorted.

            She left the cabana and ran across the yard, around the pool and up the back steps to the kitchen door. It was half-open, which made her pause, but only for a moment. The kitchen was empty, as was the living room. Racing down the hallway, she checked all of the rooms and found no one. The downstairs was empty too. As she finished searching the garage, she heard Spike calling her from the living room.

            "Did you find her?" Buffy asked as she came up the stairs, breathless more from fright than exertion.

            "No," Spike said. "You neither?"

            "They're gone, all of them. And they've taken Dawn with them." She fell onto the couch, fighting to stay composed. "They're buying themselves time, trying to keep her hidden until they get the Key all safe inside her."

            "It's here, in their note," Spike said.

            Buffy noticed the paper he held for the first time. She took it from him and read it aloud. "We have your daughter. She is safe. We will return her to you when the process is completed." 

            Ethan twitched, clearly in pain. "Not much on words, are they. Does that mean we go now?"

            "I don't know," Buffy said. She closed her eyes, trying to think. They must have another place in town. There's no way they could get her on an airplane or anything public when she's all glowy, or… or unformed. I have to figure out where. It could be anyplace. And who knows how much of a head start they've gotten. The Seer made time go all crazy. It's impossible to tell how long it's been. I need… I just need…

            "Well, we have to do something. I'm bleeding all over my nice shirt- formerly nice shirt, I should say- and your vampire appears a bit worse for wear as, I might add, do you. Buffy, do you hear me? Have you listened to a word I've said?"

            "Ethan. Shut up. I just need a minute. I have to think." There's the mansion, of course. And the crypts, some of them are empty. Or maybe they have another monastery like this one. Some normal looking house with normal looking stuff outside where they're holding Dawn and preparing to hurt her beyond anything I can fix…

            "Less thinking, Buffy. More action. If we stay here much longer, we risk attracting the wrong sort of attention- ouch!"

            Buffy opened her eyes and saw Ethan covering his wounded shoulders defensively and glowering at Spike. Spike didn't seem to care. He caught her look and said, "He'll heal. What now, Slayer?"

"Spike. We- we have to go. Ethan's right. Whatever the monks have planned, they don't seem to mean us any harm, but there's no way to be sure. We can't go back to my house, it's sure to be swarming with pissed off Knights by now. Same with the motel."

Spike nodded. "Where to, then?" 

            "I don't know. The Magic Box was sold, and- oh! Xander's apartment. The Knights won't track us there and it's sort of secluded. Once we're there, we can figure out our next move, which will be tracking down the monks. And I can call Giles. We need help of the brainy variety."           

            "You think they're hanging around town?"

            "They must be. Where could they go?" Buffy got up off the couch and led them down the stairs to the front door. "Remember how Dawn looked last time we saw her? And who knows what state she's in now. There's no way they could take her out in public like that, not without too many questions getting asked. No, they'd keep her close by, I'm sure of it. We just need to get to Xander's place, call Giles, and then…" She opened the front door and pushed Ethan out in front of her. "And then, find them. Find Dawn."

            Spike caught her shoulder, making her pause on the threshold. "Find Dawn. And then what? You going to tell her what's happened? Tell her who she is?"

            Buffy winced at the turmoil that was so clear in the conflict playing over the features of his face. "I… I don't know. Yes, probably."

            He let her go, but lingered behind. "Don't tell her, Slayer," he said. "Let her think she's as pure as you are. Don't tell her what they did to her. What they put in her. Don't tell her she's part… part me."

            She gave him a long, searching stare. He turned his head, hiding from her scrutiny. "Spike," she started, but stopped, not knowing what to say.

            "Forget it for now. Let's just… let's just go." He brushed past her down the steps and into the driveway, leaving her to shut the door alone.

            She waited on the porch as he helped Ethan into the Explorer and could think only of his words at her gravestone. "Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul."