Ok this is my first fan fic. It's an in-depth look at the climax of "Chosen" focusing on Spike. I thought it was a great finale overall but it should have been a 2 hour one or something. Things felt a little rushed. So this is me looking closer at Spike and what he goes through. I take a few liberties as this is fan fic and my will is law! Hah hah! Ahem..

Oh yes, on a less self-empowering note: DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I have created none of these characters. I get no money. I get no fame. No books are written about me. Joss created, owns and gets all those things. That's why he is rich and I am not. I am depressed now. Please go on and read and send me comments to cheer me up....

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He was getting stronger.

That was the first thing he noticed, during the battle. The first stirring of that nancy-boy trinket around his neck.

The fight was a big, cluttered mess. Willow's spell had obviously worked since all the girls were hacking and slashing like full-blown Slayers, but the Turok-Han were strong, and seemingly endless in number. And even one of those nasties was enough to give any Slayer one hell of a battle, like Buffy had discovered the hard way a while back. Of course they had learned since then, found out that they were not that much less vulnerable than ordinary vamps. Sunlight, decapitation, even old fashioned staking did the trick, just needed to give that thrust some extra punch to crack the stronger bone casing protecting their hearts.

He wasn't carrying a stake or weapon himself. He didn't know what Peaches' amulet was going to do, if anything at all, but he'd decided to keep his hands free and uncluttered. Before you know it you have magic fire or lightning shooting out of you and he didn't want to risk any weapons he might carry fling out of his hands or shatter and become fragmentary bombs that could hurt Buffy....and the girls. So he was fighting like he usually had, with his fists and feet. Kicking the vamps off their feet, knocking the wind out of them, stunning them so some nearby Slayerette could finish them off easily. Well, full Slayers now, but they were still green and this seemed a good method.

The Ubervamps were a little stronger than him, he knew that. But he also knew they weren't too bright. Cunning in an animalistic way, but barbaric and rough, Their fearlessness could sometimes make them stupid and they would fall for very easy tricks. Spike knew enough tricks. He had spent most of his undead life fighting. He had had a few close calls especially in the beginning, facing TOO large a crowd of villagers, or a demon that was a little stronger that he looked before he picked the fight...but he had survived, and become a fearsome fighter. Able to take on beings and vamps far older than himself.

He'd picked up plenty of know-how in the East, when he had traveled China and Japan, he'd have been stupid not to. Those people knew how to fight. And he had blended everything he'd ever picked up and merged it into his own style...which was still grounded in where the fighting is the most down and dirty...the street. Where the only rule is that the person left standing when the smoke clears, is the winner. He had sought out battle always and everywhere. Like he needed to find himself and his enjoyment of life in everything he had never done as a human. Soulless, formerly wimpy William had found it exhilarating to enjoy purely physical thrills after a life of fantasizing that had brought him nothing but heartache and loneliness. Of course little did he know this new life would bring him little else in the end...

But tonight, perhaps more than ever, he was glad he had lived a fighter's life. It took everything he had to stay in the front of the battle, watching his back, watching Buffy's whenever he could, setting the Ubervamps up for the SiTs, and trying to keep the way to the portal blocked. He dodged and weaved and made every punch he threw as hard as he could. The only time he remembered the amulet was when it almost hit him in the face after a swing of his arm. Useless piece of...

And then he felt it. A surge of...something. The punch he was already throwing landed in the face of a Turok-Han and he felt the bones of the creature turn to mush. Another charged him from his left, he lashed out and saw the creature flying back slamming into the wall, crushed limbs flaying. 'Alright!' he thought 'That's my kind of magic'. He charged the first vamp he saw, slamming into it. But when it fell, the surge through his body increased, almost getting too much. Instinctively he reached for the amulet then withdrew his fingers when he burned them on the now red-hot object. 'Aow, what the...?'

Looked like the amulets goal wasn't just to charge him up, that was just the beginning. His eyes searched for Buffy in the fray. She needed to know....and he needed her to know. There she was, wielding the Scythe like she was born to. Which of course she was, in a way. "Buffy! Whatever this thing does, I think its......."

Then, before he could finish what he was saying, it flowed through him with such intensity he threw his head back and howled. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. He had been hurt in his 100+ years of being a vampire. He had been beaten, burnt and broken. He had been in battle, accidents and disasters. He had been tortured by beings (and in ways) humans couldn't imagine. Just trying to get his soul alone had been a grueling experience. But this was different. It was like it wasn't even a feeling that was supposed to hurt. Like it wasn't even really pain in itself. It was more like when your leg goes numb from having your circulation cut off after sitting in a wrong position, and then have feeling return and every movement be too much for your nerves.

He hadn't had that problem since he'd become a vampire but he actually had a momentary flashback to a memory of that as his entire body was engulfed in a sensation that it wasn't equipped to handle. Like he was a vessel too small to cope with what it was to contain right now.

He staggered back, grimacing, never seeing the Ubervamp stab Buffy from behind which was probably for the best since there was nothing he could do about it.

Another attack from the side brought him momentarily out of it as survival instinct kicked in. He smashed the vamp with even greater ease than before. He tried to continue to fight, to put it to good use and lose himself in the heat of battle, hoping it would block out the sensation of every cell in his body screaming to explode. But then it changed. He could feel it. Like it had reached some desired point. The warm up was over, now it was truly beginning.

He staggered back, part because he had no choice but to do so, part instinct, to retreat from the heart of battle as he sensed he would not be able to fight anymore. His back hit the rock wall near the opening of the seal. He sensed it coming, like something was about to..open.

"Oh bollocks.." he mumbled as the energy flowed visably outward now. Literally as it seemed to come from within. Within his body, within his soul. Like those things were used to tap into something greater they were connected to, that maybe we're all connected to. Like his heart and soul were small valves being opened to let a tidal wave through. It was almost more than he could bear. The energy shot upward through the rock and the school floors and roof and let the light of the sun fall on him.

There wasn't even a moment of alarm for him. He saw the sunlight but even before he could notice it didn't turn him to ashes on the spot he didn't worry. It was just another element in the flood of sensations and energies that he was now the focus of. All around him the SiTs and vampires alike froze and stared at the bright light and swirling energy that surrounded him.

So he did the only thing he could have done. The only thing that his brain was able to form a coherent thought about. He called out to her. He heard her name echo through the cave. He heard it was his voice but he only barely was aware he had actually done the calling. Buffy had already seen and rushed towards him, but before she could reach him the sunlight that struck the amulet flared and from it came power. Power of light. Power of fire. Power of the soul of the universe. It exploded in blinding rays from Spike's body, a wave of irresistible force dusting the Turok-Han where it struck them. By the dozens they were swept away like leaves in an inferno. It swept on through the giant cave construction of the demonic world. Further and further down the multitudes of them were incinerated. Spike felt it, saw it. Where he looked the energy swirled and struck. He couldn't tell where he ended and it began, couldn't tell if he controlled it, or it controlled him.

Then the caves themselves started to shake and crack, and finally crumble under the bright onslaught of power emanating from Spike's lone figure. He heard Faith call to everyone to fall back and head for the opening back up to the school. SiTs ran past him dodging the energy bolts, running up the stairs.

At the heart of that storm Spike stood, a certain calm and understanding hitting him through his bewilderment. This was it. He knew it beforehand but it's still strange to reach the point when you know you're going to die. He knew it the night before when he stared at the amulet dangling on its chain. When he was trying to wonder if he was not going to make it out alive out of this one. When he knew in his gut there was no wondering to it. He felt the light hit his face and shine all the way through him, he felt it burn and hurt and at the same time it felt glorious. Just too much. Too much to bear. Then he looked to the side and saw her. She had finally reached him, her eyes teary and full of worry for him. It felt good to see that. It was never good to see tears in her eyes but the honest, genuine worry for him made all the pain melt away. He looked at her and again felt that odd calm. Even still, his voice was shaky when he spoke. "I can feel it Buffy...... my soul! It's really there..... It kinda stings."

Meanwhile all the others had managed to make it up the stairs. All around them things were crumbling and caving in. Another time his impulse would have been to sweep her off her feet and run to safety. But it was clear. Everything was so clear. It would end here. This was something he alone had to do. And see it through to the end. To finish the Hellmouth of Sunnydale forever. For her. And for all the evil he had done, and the pain he had caused.

"Go on then" he said to her. Her eyes teared up more and she shook her head defiantly. Just like she would. God he loved that typical head-shake. "No! No, you've done enough! You can still.." "No!" he countered, interrupting her, knowing there was no time for debate. "You beat them back. Now it's up to me to do the clean up." He lifted his hands like he was about to push something really heavy. He could feel it too. He could hold it, and push it outwards, push it and crumble this place, crumble the portal and wipe it out forever.

From the stairs Faith called out: "COME ON!!" Buffy looked up, then around, unsure what to do. The world around them was collapsing. Spike managed a smirk "Better move love. I think it's safe to say school's out for bloody summer." The sounds of falling rock and crumbling walls became louder and the very ground they stood on shook. Buffy still didn't move, her eyes betraying her mind looking for a solution, a way to get him out. "Spike..!" she began. But again he interrupted her. "I mean it luv, I gotta do this." He turned his face away from her, trying to demonstrate his resolve to the task at hand. She just looked at him. His hands were still up and he could feel the power that was at his command. Sort of. He laughed at that thought.

Then Buffy's hand slowly went up and her fingers slid into his. He looked at her in surprise, as they suddenly stood there calmly, holding hands amidst all the chaos. He looked into her eyes, beautiful, firm and strong even through the tears streaming from them.

Slowly flames sprung up from where their hands touched, but there was no damage, no pain, or at least none that even registered through everything else he was feeling. This was their flame, their spark. Whatever name would fit all the conflicting feelings that had flowed between them for so long now, this was what it looked like in the light of the universe, in the flames of the soul.

All the times they had touched, all the punches they had thrown, the kicks they had traded. Every kiss and caress, from desperate and hopeful to gentle and passionate. Every time her nails scratched his skin in passion, every time he grabbed her to stop her from running from him..every time he had run his fingers through her hair, and she had stroked his face, when he had held her in the last few nights...everything now had led to this. And there were no words.

Until she spoke.

"I love you.." she said softly. She just stood there. Still not running, still holding on to his hand. The words he had longed to hear....had been dying to hear. For so long now. Words he would have died for gladly. Words he now WAS dying for....if only she really meant it.

He almost smiled, and without bitterness he said "No, you don't. But thanks for saying it." Her mouth tightened and new tears sprang from her eyes as he spoke.

The cave shook violently, making Buffy lose her footing, and breaking the grip their hands had on each other. Woken from the moment Spike yelled "Now GO!". And knowing there was nothing else to say or do that would change what was coming she finally went leaving him alone in hell. The one light in the darkness.

"I wanna see how it ends." He said aloud, more to himself than to her. And he felt that was true. This wasn't just for her. It was for him too, for all the evil he had done. All the pain he had caused that had haunted him from the moment he had regained his soul. Looking back he was actually glad that he'd had Buffy to focus on. His love for her. And her war. It had been something to distract him from the all-consuming guilt that may have eaten him alive. In spite of himself he felt a momentary pity for Angel. When the gypsies had restored his soul he'd had nothing at all. For the first time he understood how the old poofter had turned into such a brooder and spent decades just lying in alleyways.

He felt the power flow, and pushed it a little more, the waves of light thundering through the dark world. He felt it crumble, felt the intensity of the light burn inside him, hotter and stronger, burning him up.

In the end, he stood alone against the darkness of hell. As he had stood alone against his own. In many ways it was fitting. He had always been alone. He doted on Dru, and had loved her in a way, but she was in her own world. And he had been alone after she left him, when he'd sought refuge in meaningless sex and plans of power and victories. And later, when he had to make his way with the chip in his head destroying his old vampire life forever.

But never had he been more alone then from the moment he realized he loved Buffy.

The last few nights, sleeping in each other's arms..it was so little compared to what he had wanted, and yet, it was so much. Worth so much. And now her final words to him...no, she didn't mean it. Not how he wanted her to. But there had been something. In her eyes, in her touch. Some part of her had meant it. Something that showed she could have loved him, had there been time.

It would have to be enough. Once again...such a little crumb, and yet, it was everything.

It gave him the strength to do this now. And this was his moment. The eternal rebel throwing one last punch at the order of things. Kicking up dust and for one last time tearing down the walls of established powers most people would fear and respect.

The pain seared through his body and he felt the energy burning him up from within, as the hell dimension around him crumbled. He felt the fire consume him, and his face started to wither. He braced himself and with the strength of pure willpower he held it back for one last moment, to do what he had always hoped he'd be able to.

He smiled.

As he felt his body burn, his skin smolder and his flesh turn to ashes, he laughed in the face of death and showed the universe one last cocky grin.

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Epilogue:

[Somewhere in a place that doesn't exist in our space..where time has no meaning..]

"This one then?"

"Yes. Oh yes definitely him"

"An odd choice."

"And why do you say that, my brother?"

"Well it is an odd creature in many ways. And he seems to have filled his purpose in terms to usefulness."

"Ah but there is more for him to do."

"There is always more to do, the war is indeed never-ending. And we have too few of these warriors as it is, but...well, as I said he is an odd creature. And rather vulgar if you ask me."

"Irrelevant. He is unique. He was a soulless demon that willingly went to regain his soul. Out of unrequited love for his mortal enemy no less. This is unprecedented. Even our warrior in the same area we will send this one to cannot make that claim. As noble and selfless as he is now, his soulless alter ego would never willingly regain his soul. Vulgarity is of no import. This one is unique. And you know what is to come. What role we need to have played in the scheme of things."

"Of course. And I'll admit his is a curious case. Alright then, let it be as we will."

"Yes. As we will, it is. As we will, it shall be."

"From life to ashes."

"From ashes.....to life."

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THE END