A few hours later, he awoke pouring with sweat. Sighing, he pealed off his sweat drenched shirt and tossed it across the room. He tried to remember what he'd been dreaming about, he squeezed his eyes shut searching his mind, he mopped his face with the back of his hand, and finally, peering over the top of his hands with wide eyes, realisation hit him. It hadn't been a dream! He was still here wasn't he, and things seemed real enough. Absent mindedly he rolled to one side and fell of the side of the bed with a shriek. He stood up and composed himself once more, "Stay calm" he told himself "You'll think of a plan.and it WILL work". He wasn't so sure of his decision making anymore, his judgement had got him into this mess, thankfully, he was safe in the knowledge that he'd saved Sunnydale and that at least Buffy was alive.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed, holding his stomach, he'd long forgotten the feeling of stomach ache, but since he was human again, he felt that there was more to come. He wished that it would stop, and as abruptly as it had started, it stopped. He lifted his head and raised his eyebrow. "Come on spike, surely you've worked it out NOW, you've been here long enough", he looked up, there was the first, in the form of himself smiling at him, he continued "you're in your mind, whatever you think of here, will happen". "Look, why are you here" Spike questioned him, "cos if your sole reason for attending is to tell me that I failed, get lost!!! He disappeared, and Spike breathed a sigh of relief. Quiet at last.