Disclaimer:  The characters are not mine and they never will be.  I just want them to have what they'll never have on TV.  Joss Whedon and the ME writers are the geniuses here, not me.

OK, so this is it – the end of my fanfic.  I hope y'all liked it and please review if you think it's worth it.  I've had fun on this one – I've been writing it on and off for 6 months now.  Hopefully, I'll find some time to do a follow-up, or perhaps start another AU as season seven continues in the UK.

Thanks for all the feedback – you guys have been great.  See you soon.

Beginnings

"…looks so small…"

"…survive?  Worse than…"

"…just come back…"

"…hope and pray…"

The darkness started to recede from her mind.  Buffy sat up and looked around her.

"…never know if she wanted…"

"…healing powers…"

She was in her living room, sitting on the couch.  She was wearing the new clothes she had bought, brand new and unspoiled. 

"…OK; she's strong and…"

"…what if she's not…"

The light in the room was wrong, almost as if there wasn't enough power in the light fittings, but at the same time, the furniture and objects around her looked too bright and sharp.

"…promised her…"

"…can't lose her now..."

Just on the edge of her hearing, Buffy could make out voices.  They seemed to be coming from outside the room, but if she moved towards the sound, it retreated away from her.  She couldn't tell who was speaking.

"…Buffy…"

"…Buffy…"

"…Buffy…"

"Buffy."

She turned to face the voice, a real voice, a voice she could really hear.  Tara stood by the door, her hair and dress moving slightly, as if caught in a gentle breeze.  But there was no breeze.  Buffy felt a sob catch in her throat and she ran to her friend, throwing her arms around her and holding her as if she was the only thing keeping her from drowning.  Tara held her gently, stroking her hair and murmuring softly.  Eventually, Buffy pulled away a little.

"I can't be dead; this is different."

Tara smiled and Buffy felt a warm courage spreading inside her, glowing in her centre.

"No, you're not dead.  You were just pretty close."  She led Buffy over to the couch and they sat together, their hands still intertwined.

"So how am I here?  We blew this house up, didn't we?"

"Yes, you did.  You're here because you're dreaming," Tara reached out and pushed a strand of hair away from Buffy's eyes, "I'm here because I have to tell you something."

Buffy gazed into the other girl's eyes.  There was sadness there.  Her brightness, the spark that had charmed Willow, was still there shining clear and beautiful in the strange light, but there was also a sense of sorrow in her.  Buffy pulled away mentally; she was afraid now of what Tara had to say.

"Willow misses you.  We all do."

Tara smiled again and the sadness seemed to disappear for a moment, "I'll always be here.  Especially for Willow."

"I don't get it.  You'll always be here?" Buffy indicated the room.

"Yes.  This house is where all of you have known the best and the worst of your lives.  It's the common ground in your selves; the place you all subconsciously think of as home."

Buffy dropped her gaze.  Her brow furrowed, "Is my mom here?"

"No."

"Why?  You said this is home.  Mom was always here." Buffy's expression hardened, "I want to see my mom."

Tara sighed, "She's not here because she knew you and Dawn would be OK.  She knew it would be hard for you both, but that you'd both get through it together.  She knew she didn't have to wait for you or protect you.  She moved on." Tara squeezed Buffy's hand, "She's proud of you and she loves you, but she's happy now."

"I know." Buffy's voice was small and she swallowed back tears, "Why haven't you moved on?  Weren't you happy?"

"I wanted to stay here to look after my Willow." Tara touched Buffy's cheek gently, "I wanted to stay here to help her when she needed me and comfort her when she called.  It was all I ever wanted in life, why should I want anything more in death?  We'll move on together." Again, the sadness disappeared from her eyes and her skin seemed to glow softly and grow warmer under Buffy's hand.  She could feel the warm strength inside her again, soothing her fears.  Visibly putting the thoughts aside, Tara turned again to her friend. "Now I have to tell you about your future."

Buffy stood up quickly and moved away to the window.  She was about to push the curtain aside and look out when she thought better of it; she didn't really want to know what was outside her subliminal house.  "I don't want to know about the future.  I've had enough prophecies for one lifetime."

"This isn't a prophecy.  It's just the way your future looks.  Your life has been transformed in the last year and you haven't even noticed."

"What do you mean?" Buffy turned away from the window and picked up a picture frame.  It was a photo from a few years ago of Dawn, her mom and herself.  They were laughing, arms around each other, joy and love in their eyes.

"I mean that you're no longer just the Slayer.  You've learned to let the people who love you into your heart and mind; you're a friend.  You're teaching Dawn about the world and showing her the beauty of life; you're a mother.  You've learned to put the past away and face what is to come; you're a fighter.  You've learnt to recognize the rebirth of someone you thought you knew; you're a realist.  You've learnt to love unconditionally; you're a dreamer.  You've become more than just the Chosen One; you've become something no Slayer has been before and it's all because you've allowed yourself to live." Tara came over and stood with Buffy by the window, reaching out and pulling the curtain to one side.  All around the house, stretching away to a blindingly bright horizon was a rippling mass of grass; green and lush and beautiful.

"Buffy, you are so much more than you were when you were called.  When Willow brought you back to us, she used the title, but you hadn't reached it then.  Now you have; now you have truly become The Warrior of the People."

"Death was my gift."

Spike and Dawn sprang to their feet and turned to the bed as one.  The little table that was between them tipped over, scattering cards and matchsticks over the floor.  A vague thought that he should have known Buffy would come round when he was teaching Dawn to play poker crossed his mind, but he pushed it away and took her hand gently, watching her face closely.

"Buffy?" Dawn tried to elbow Spike out of the way to get a good look at her sister.  They struggled for a second before Dawn moved around to the other side of the bed and took Buffy's other hand.

"Niblet, get the others."

"No way," Dawn grinned at him, "I'm staying right here.  If she wakes up, I'm gonna be the first one she sees."

"Bet on that?" Spike returned her smile.  They both turned back to the bed.  Buffy's eyes were moving under her lids, darting from side to side erratically and she seemed to be muttering something.  Dawn reached out and stroked her hair and they both started a little as she squeezed their hands.  Spike started to laugh; a strangely wild laugh.

"Spike?"  Dawn was staring at him.

"Sorry, bit." He took a deep breath, calming himself as best he could, "It's just, I thought… And now she's waking up and…"

Dawn nodded, "I know."

"Oh my God." Xander was standing at the door of the room, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"Get the others, Harris." Spike glanced over his shoulder.

Xander disappeared.  They could hear his running footsteps fading down the hall.

Buffy's hand gripped Spike's hand tightly, her back arched and she gasped a loud, shuddering breath, her eyes flying open, staring wildly at the ceiling.  Dawn and Spike froze and watched her as she took in her surroundings, her gaze resting on the heart monitor next to her sister and the drip feed in her arm.  A lazy, almost contented smile spread across her face.  Turning to Dawn, Buffy's mouth formed her sister's name, but no sound came out.  She looked puzzled and turned to Spike.

"You've been unconscious for a few days, love.  Voice is probably out of practice." He grinned at her, his heart swelling, "Unusual for you, sweetheart."

Buffy frowned at him.  Spike tried to ignore Dawn, whose excitement had got the better of her and was doing her own version of the Snoopy dance and singing about winning their bet.  He concentrated on Buffy's face, on the lips, pouting at him, on the soft eyes, on the smooth skin, paler than usual, and on the strands of hair brushing her cheeks.  He drank in the sight of her.

"Buffy!"

Willow, Xander and Giles burst into the room and rushed over to the bed, all talking at once.  A doctor followed them in at a more sedate pace.  He pushed everyone gently out of the way, motioned for some quiet and smiled down at his patient.

"Let's see what we have, shall we?"

While the doctor examined Buffy and the others hovered around him asking questions, Spike slipped out of the room.  He found a quiet corner, sank into a chair and put his head in his hands.  He let all the anxiety, pain and anger go, crying silently into his hands, his body shaking with the sobs.  It was just a release; one that had been needed for years.  He didn't know how long he sat there, pouring all the poison in his being into his tears, but when he eventually started to calm down, he was aware of someone watching him.  He looked up.

Willow smiled at him; a warm, genuine smile.  She held out her hand to him, "Buffy wants to see you."

Spike stood and took the offered hand.  His legs were stiff and one foot was almost numb. "How long have I been out here?"

"Not sure," Willow shrugged, "The doctor ordered some tests and then they took her away for a couple of hours, so I'm guessing it was a while.  We thought it was best to leave you alone." She led him gently through the corridors back to the room.  Buffy was sitting up, watching Dawn and Xander bickering over a candy bar with a soft smile on her face.  The doctor was talking quietly to Giles near the door.

"It's incredible; I've never seen such a fast recovery.  We're still waiting for the results of the tests, but I may have to re-think my prognosis.  She was very lucky in the first place, but I was quite sure her digestive system would never fully recover.  Now, I think Buffy may be all right." He ran a hand through his hair.

Giles shifted slightly, "When you say 'all right'…?"

"I mean it looks as if she may make a full recovery.  Once I've had a look at all the results, I'll be able to tell you more, but against my better judgement, I have to say, I think Buffy may make a full recovery."

"Thank you, Doctor Evans." Giles shook his hand, "We really appreciate all your efforts."

The doctor left, shaking his head.  Willow closed the door quietly behind him.

"Spike!"

Buffy was smiling at him.  She still looked pale, but there was a glow hanging on her that he hadn't seen for some time.  He took his seat next to her again, his eyes never leaving her face.

"I, er… I believe you wanted to tell us all something?" Giles went to the couch under the window and sat down.

Buffy nodded, "I met someone just before I woke up and she told me some stuff." She turned her smile on Willow, "It was Tara."

Willow's gaze dropped and she took a deep breath, "Go on."

"My house.  Our home.  Somehow, it was meant to be destroyed.  And we were meant to be the ones to do it." Buffy gestured to the jug of water.  Dawn poured her a glass and handed it to her.  They all waited in silence as Buffy took a few sips and cleared her throat. "The last few years, we've done stuff, we've hurt each other and been hurt by others.  But we got through it and we got through it together.  In our hearts, we'd let go of the past; we'd forgiven each other and ourselves.  But in our heads, we hadn't.  That house will always be a home to us; we made it a home, Mom made it a home, but it was full of too many memories." Buffy looked at Spike, taking his hand. "We had to burn the past away in our heads before we could go on." She took another few sips of water.

Xander put an arm around Dawn, "Show her."

Dawn turned and opened a drawer in the unit next to her sister's bed. "Some things from the past shouldn't be burned." She brought out a picture frame. "I managed to get this just before we headed for the kitchen.  It was on the floor."

Buffy took it from her.  It was the picture she had seen when she was talking to Tara.  Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at her mother's face, so familiar once, but unseen in the flesh for too long. "Thanks Dawnie."  She put her arms around her little sister and held her tight for a few moments.

"So, what now?" Willow glanced at Giles before turning to Buffy, "We've kinda been living here; Dawn and Spike haven't even left this room.  We didn't want to do anything until we knew you were gonna be OK, but Giles made some phone calls."

"Yes, apparently, the police seem to think that some of the rioters burned the house down, so none of us is implicated as an arsonist."

"I wonder where they got that idea?" Spike raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, quite.  Anyway, the fire department has confirmed that theory, as we were nowhere to be found when they searched the house after we were captured.  They seem to be assuming we didn't return.  I have, er, encouraged this opinion.  I'm afraid there isn't much left; the fire spread very quickly, but the house was insured, so you will be able to rebuild it eventually.  Of course, the Council will also be of some financial help.  They've been very accommodating for once."

"Yeah, they're even paying the medical bills," Xander gestured at the room, "That's how you got this sweet… um… suite."

Buffy smiled, "I have to tell you something else.  Tara said that I've changed, that my life has been transformed.  But it's not just me; we've all changed these past couple of years.  We've come full circle, back to the beginning.  But this time, there's more of us and we're stronger.  We don't just have each other, now we've found ourselves."

Spike nodded, "'We'll go hand in hand.'"

"But this time, we won't be walking alone." Buffy's gaze took in all her friends, her family, "We're together.  All of us," Her eyes met Spike's. "Always."

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I am very sorry if the big build-up wasn't really worth it, and I know the ending is really Basil Exposition and cheesy in the extreme, but I set myself a potentially unbeatable enemy and I didn't want to kill everyone off.  Not this time, at least.  So, I chickened out.  A bit of cheese never hurt anyone.  At least, anyone who isn't lactose intolerant.

Actually, I always meant this to be more of an exploration of certain characters and their relationship, but it all got a bit out of hand. 

Hope you liked it and if anyone's got any challenges or ideas they think I might like, just let me know – my email is shown in my profile.