A longer chapter this time. I hope it makes the basic premise of the story clear, even though there's a long way to go.

Chapter 4 - Answers and More Questions

I stay close to Buffy all evening. She seems distracted. After the happiness I saw when she got the news about her new job, she just went downhill. I don't know why. The Bit seems to know something, but she hasn't said anything. The whelp? He's as clueless as ever. Buffy cried her way through a comedy film, and he thought she was crying from laughing too hard. It wasn't even a good film. There's something wrong with Buffy, and I'm scared. I'm scared because I can't help. It's back to the way I felt when she died. At least then I tried to save her. At least then I had a body. Now, I don't know what's wrong, and I can't do a bloody thing about it anyway. It hurts. It hurts almost more than the guilt I feel. I try to wrap her in me, to make her feel secure, but she just cries harder.

They go home. The girls are both quiet. Of course, there aren't too many gaps in the whelp's monologue, so it may be lack of opportunity. But, I don't think so.

Buffy decides to patrol when the get back. I can tell by Dawn's expression that she didn't expect that. Xander's happy to stay with Dawn, despite her protests that she doesn't need a babysitter. Xander heads for the TV while Buffy goes up to change. Dawn is seriously unhappy with the situation, but Buffy's too preoccupied to notice, and Xander? Well, I don't think he'd notice if a herd of chirago demons descended on the room.

I follow Buffy as she heads out on her route. It feels so familiar, being with her like that, I almost forget my bodiless state. It's a quiet night, and she meets only a couple of fledglings - not even enough to make her break sweat. She's fighting a little woodenly. I'm surprised, I've never known her to be like that. There's always been passion in the way she fights. Even after her mom, when her heart was breaking, there was passion in the way she fought. Now, it's gone, and it's as if there's a light fewer in the world.

Her face is expressionless as she moves from cemetery to cemetery. Her last stop is the one I lived in. She seems to be avoiding the crypt, heading in unexpected directions whenever her route would take her there. It could just be she doesn't want to talk to Clem. I mean, sometimes his comparison of different snack types can get a bit wearing. She sighs deeply, shaking her hair as if trying to snap out of something. Her footsteps turn towards home.

Dawn's face is a picture when we get back. She has obviously had enough of Xander, and she goes to bed soon after Buffy gets back. It's not long before Buffy claims she's tired, and Xander stands to leave. It's obvious he doesn't want to go, and for the first time, a shred of pity comes over me. The whelp has nothing. No family he'd want to claim, no Anya. He's lost, and the worst part of it must be that it's his own fault. He betrayed Anya by walking away from their wedding. That must hurt. At least I know I tried my best to make Buffy see I loved her. At least, right up until …

He's gone, at last. Buffy goes upstairs, and I follow, lurking in the hallway. I hear her shower, and I know she's dressing for bed. When I'm fairly sure she's settled, I go into her room. It's still the old one, still as I remember it. She's lying in her bed, curled into an almost foetal position. I move closer, and notice she's shaking. Not the rapid shaking of being cold, but the slower shaking of misery. She's sobbing. I try to wrap myself around her, desperate to bring her comfort, but her sobs actually increase.

It's almost as if she knows I'm here, and I'm the one making her sad. The thought hits me, and my everything turns to ice. It's me. I'm hurting her. Somehow, by being here, I'm hurting her. I can't take it any more. I've got to get away, got to stop hurting her. It's probably for the best if I just cease to exist.

For the first time I consider the possibility that my turning to dust was the best thing that could have happened for Buffy. She was always telling me to go away, but I didn't listen. I was so sure I could help her, so sure she would love me in the end. Now I know better. The pain's growing again. I'm responsible. It's me.

I close my eyes. (I know, I don't have any. Ok, I stop taking in visual information. 'I close my eyes' is much simpler.) I want to be anywhere that means I won't hurt her again. I wish for annihilation.

I open my eyes, and this time I haven't a bloody clue where I am. It's bright, almost too bright. It's just as well I don't have a body, because this light level would have had me smouldering in seconds. I look down, and I do have a body. Bloody Hell. What is going on here? The body's just as I remember it. Except, I've never been in the habit of wandering around outside naked. And that's what I'm doing. I can feel the grass under my feet. It's cool from dew, but the air's warm. I'm feeling sunshine on my skin for the first time in a century, and it feels so good. Am I in heaven? Not possible. Hell, yes, well, it's where vampires go, and it's what I deserve. But this seems rather more like heaven to me. I can't see anyone else around. I walk a bit further. I can hear the ocean ahead, although I don't see it yet.

The sounds are those of a summer's day. Somehow, it doesn't seem so much like California, although the only reason I can think of for that is the lack of company. I crest a small rise, and I see it. It's blue and it goes on forever. This unexpected treat brings a lump to my throat. It's been so long since I've been in the sunshine. It's like a gift. A gift I don't deserve.

I reach the sand. I head over the warm, dry sand, feeling it between my toes. It's almost too hot for comfort. I move towards the shoreline, and feel the coolness of the wet sand. The contrast is delicious, the warmth of the sunshine and the cool of the sand. I resist the urge to walk into the water. I'm not sure why, I just feel I should.

I follow the beach, just walking, just appreciating. I see someone in the distance, approaching. It's a child, a girl, maybe eight or so? I'm no expert. She looks human, except she glows. How she can appear to glow in the bright sunshine of this paradise, I don't know. But, glow she does. I remember I'm naked, but suspect that where I am isn't real anyway, so I don't suppose it matters. The girl's smiling at me, and I do my best to wipe the smile off my face. I just realised that I've been grinning like a bloody ponce since I got here. Whatever's going on, I like to keep my options open. It doesn't pay to let anyone know I'm actually enjoying this.

I make as if I'm going to keep on walking, but she stops, and looks at me, and I can't go on. She's smiling at me, and it's disarming, the way only a child's smile can disarm. I look closely at her face. Her hair is blonde and her eyes are blue. The face could almost be Dawn, apart from the hair colour. It's a face of innocence. It's a face that hasn't known the pain of losing a mother and a sister. It's a face that hasn't experienced whatever Dawn has seen this summer.

I feel another twinge of guilt at that. I know something happened to my girls this summer, and I don't know what it was. Something else I need to sort out.

"Spike," the girl says. "I thought you wanted to know what's happening. You won't find out if you keep going."

"So, are you going to tell me? Or are you going to keep me dangling here?"

"Oh, I'll tell you when I'm ready. First, I want you to tell me some things."

I don't like the sound of that, so I change the subject a bit. "Tell me, what do you really look like? I mean, I'm starting to doubt the 'little girl' thing. So, what is it? Horns? Scales? Slime? What're you hiding?"

"I knew I couldn't fool you. But, I'm not hiding anything. I'm actually adding something. The glow you see, that's what I would look like to your primitive vision. The rest, is designed to make you feel comfortable. So, Spike, how are you doing? You really have given us all a major headache, you know? We have plans for you, and in the end, there's a minor miscalculation, and a major disaster results."

"Wait just a minute. Who is 'us'? And what have you been miscalculating?"

"Patience, William. Never been your long suit, has it? Now, you were coming along nicely. I mean, we haven't had to do much tweaking. Only to get the soldiers to be in the right place at the time, so you could have the chip. You've done your part without any interference. You were coming along so well. You even knew you needed a soul. You worked it out for yourself. Of course, we had to make sure you got the right information on how to get a soul, but you completed the trials. There was no manipulation there. You did it, just as I knew you would."

"So, what went wrong, then, Pet?" I hear the words that come from my mouth, and they're so different from what's going on in my head. "Manipulative bitch. The little girl thing is meant to keep me docile, make me listen, make sure I don't wring her neck. And the thing about it is, she's right. Can't say what I'm thinking, can't do anything. Poof."

"We knew you were special. That's why we've been watching. It's just that, the reason you're special, we think is the same reason we failed."

"Care to explain?" She's right. Patience is one thing I haven't got an endless supply of.

"No," she grinned, dimples showing on her cheeks. "First, I've got to make sure we know what went wrong. When you got your soul, how did you feel?"

I remember, and suddenly not smiling is just too easy. "Pain," I reply.

"Well, duh, of course there was pain. You were in pain before, though, weren't you?"

"Trials to get a soul? Yeah, it hurt. I was ok though. I mean, physical pain, I can take it. Spent long enough with Angelus. Felt worse before the trials. Knowing I hurt her, let her down. That was worse. Then, the soul."

My eyes closed and I was back to this breathing thing. "It was pain like that, but I felt it for everyone I ever hurt. It wasn't just the pain of those I killed, somehow, that was the least of it. It was the others. The ones I never knew. The people who missed those I killed. It was like losing Buffy again, thousands of times over. It was … hell."

When I open my eyes again, the child is looking at me, with eyes that belie her apparent age. There is understanding, and more surprisingly, love in those eyes.

I try to pull myself up. I know I'm as soft as they come, but it doesn't pay to let just anyone know. "So, what happened? Why did getting a soul turn my body to dust?"

"I will explain, but first, you need some background. When you were killed, you lost your soul. That's simple, and you already knew that. It's the nature of the soul that's hard to understand. Most humans believe that, without a soul, you can't feel, can't feel love, can't feel remorse. Thing is, if that was true, you wouldn't feel hate either. The ability to feel all those things has nothing to do with the soul. Feelings come from something deeper, something humans don't even have a word for. I'll call it 'spirit', but it's more than that. Demons don't have souls, but they do have spirits. Vampires have a sort of fused spirit. The spirit of the human is still there, but it's joined by the spirit of the demon. Then, it's a battle of wills. Whichever is stronger will be predominant.

Few human spirits can overpower the demon spirit. That's why vampires tend towards evil. They have the ability to do good, it's just buried under the demon's need for evil. Some humans have so little capacity for good, that the resulting vampire takes delight in evil. Angelus was one such. When he got a soul, he felt human emotion - the positive human emotions - for the first time. It hurt, and he tried to be better. The soul weakened the demon spirit, so that the best of his human spirit can could through. Angel is perpetually on a knife edge. His human spirit has so little good in it, that even with a specially chosen soul, he can only just feel enough."

"Ok, but I didn't really want to hear about the Poof. What happened to me?"

"You, my dear William, are as different from Angel as it is possible to be. Your spirit was so strong, that your demon always had a struggle to subdue the good in you. You never enjoyed killing, did you? Oh, I know you did it, you had to feed, and you enjoyed feeding. But the actual killing? You didn't enjoy that. Angelus' exploits sickened you. Even Dru, even her proclivities left you cold, but you could forgive her because of the way she was abused by Angelus."

"You're wrong," I whispered. "I was bad, evil. Still am. Proved that when I tried, … when I hurt Buffy. It's just the chip."

"Spike, Spike, you spent so long trying to persuade Angelus and Darla that you were evil, that you convinced yourself along the way. The chip didn't change you, it just meant that you had to stop fooling yourself. You could follow your own inclinations. And you did. You did better than we expected. You allied yourself to the Slayer, and you vowed to keep safe the Key. That was your role, and had it not been for you, both would have been lost, beyond recovery."

"You're wrong," I repeated.

The child put a hand on my arm and pulled me to sit on the sand. Except the sand under us was now dry, and covered with a brightly coloured picnic cloth.

When we were both seated, the child continued. "Now we get to the cause of the problem. You see, your spirit is strong. That's why you were chosen for your task. But, it was also the downfall. It's because of the strength of your spirit, that when your soul was restored, your demon was almost impotent. You were already so able to feel your own inadequacies, you could already feel guilt and regret. The feelings were person specific, you felt guilt for hurting those you loved, but the feelings were real and strong. With the soul, those feelings of regret no longer had any restraint, and caused you so much pain that it was more than your body could survive. So, it disintegrated. I suspect it was inevitable. Your spirit is the only one strong enough to succeed, but it was, by virtue of that same strength, doomed to fail."

I had been looking at my knees as she spoke. I found I couldn't look up. The child held out a hand, and cupped my chin. I flinched, expecting her touch to burn me. "You still feel the guilt, the pain, don't you? Even without the body, you feel it." Her voice conveyed, not pity, but understanding.

"The thing is," she continued. "We need to decide what to do about it. As I see it, we have two choices. The first, is we accept what happened. Your body is gone, and you ceased to exist. Now, the problem with that is, that you have a job to do. We need you."

I looked up at these words. "No."

"You don't care that we need you?"

"All I care about is that Buffy's hurting, and it's my fault. If I'm gone, she'll be ok again."

"You're very wrong, you know. Your job is to do what you promised."

"What? What did I promise?"

"You promised to protect the Key."

"So, you want me to go back and protect the Bit? Buffy's more than capable."

"Not against what's coming. You see, the Key is more than a way of opening portals between realities. It can be used to do that, but it's rather like using state-of-the-art decryption software to open a book of nursery rhymes. The Key has a much higher purpose. She is the key to the survival of the human race. There are many forces who will try to destroy her, and we have only two warriors able to defend her."

"Two? Oh, I get it. Buffy and me. That's what you're saying, isn't it?"

"Yes. In the beginning, it was her role to be protector to the Key. But you are needed too."

"I can't go back. I'm hurting her. Even without a body, I was hurting her."

"What's hurting her is her own regrets, her own guilt. You have to work out what happened between you, but you have the capacity to make her happy. No one else has that capacity."

Now I knew she didn't have a bloody clue. "And why would you think that?"

"Because, she's not human."

"Got you there. She is human. The reason I could hurt her is just, what was it, 'molecular sunburn'. That's what Tara said."

"Tara was right when she said there was nothing in the spell which could have made Buffy 'come back wrong'. But, it wasn't the spell that did it. We took the opportunity afforded by her death and subsequent resurrection to … change her."

"Change her how? What've you bloody done to her?"

"The changes are significant, but in other ways, minor. She will live much longer than the normal human life span. She will have strength and endurance beyond even Slayer levels, although she will have to work to earn the benefits of these changes. Let's say, her capacity for strength and endurance has been increased. Her other bodily functions will be normal. She has a heartbeat, and is warm blooded. A basic medical examination would be unlikely to pick up the differences. A more detailed exam would pick up a much higher metabolic rate than normal. Of course, her strength is above the normal level. Her rate of recovery from injury would seem nothing sort of remarkable."

"But, what does that have to do with me?"

"Well, we planned to make similar changes to you when you received your soul. Unfortunately, the demise of your body precluded that action. What we want to do is return you to your own body, modified in the same way. You will no longer be a vampire. You won't be human, either, though. You will no longer be immortal, although, like Buffy, you will live for many human life spans. You will no longer have to avoid sunlight, and a stake to the heart will no longer necessarily be fatal."

"I still say no."

"What about your promise?"

"She doesn't need me to look after Dawn now."

"Without you, our calculations indicate that the likelihood of Dawn surviving the next twelve months are about thirty percent. If we extend the time scale to ten years, it will be less than one percent."

"You mean I don't have a choice."

"Spike, you always have a choice. I'm just hoping you make the right one."

"Go back and keep Dawn alive, or cease to exist? That's not a choice. And you know it."

"Good," the child replied.

You will find we have made some more, practical differences to your life when you get back. Some might consider it a reward for making the right decision, although I suspect, you will not. Again, another required characteristic. You're just too stubborn, you know that, don't you?"

She started to glow brighter, and I had to put my hand over my eyes to deflect the glare. When I look again, she, and the beach, are gone.

So, you see, he's not going to stay in spirit form all the way through. And for those of you who thought he might, I have to say, where's the fun in a bodiless Spike? There may be another chapter this week, but I doubt it. As of the end of this week, there will certainly be nothing else until the end of October. I am still paying for support services, so if you put me on your author alert, you'll get an email when I update.

As always, feedback is appreciated.