"Buffy, Luv. I'm here. Your William is right here."

Spike walks over to the bed and sits down gently. He carefully lifts up her shirt to dress the wound. He stops and stares at the dried blood all over her and starts to wash it off. Well, Spike, old Boy, this is what you always wished for. How does it feel? The Slayer is going to die in front of you. Couldn't be happier, right? A single, bloody tear starts to fall down his face. Then another. Then another. He tries desperately to control them, but they keep falling.

Have you ever seen a Vampire cry? It's not a pretty sight. They don't shed tears like humans, they aren't supposed to cry. …Why is he crying? He doesn't have a soul, he shouldn't feel these emotions. …He loves me, that's why. Every bloody tear that streaks that angelic face is for me. Because he loves me with his complete being, and I'm leaving him. I have too. It's my destiny. I must die. It is the job of the Slayer. We knew this when we first began. Why is it that hard? Buffy floats above her body looking down at her former self and her true love. Not yet. I won't leave him yet.

She forces herself to wake up.

"Spike."

"Buffy." Spike pulls her closer to him, cradling her in his strong embrace.

"I love you with all of my being. You know that right?"

"Of course I do." Spike kisses Buffy one last time, then she leaves him for good. "I love you more than you will ever know."

Her body goes limp in his hands and he falls back down on the bed, pulling her closer and closer to him, helplessly trying to give her strength and warmth that will bring her back. His tears grow larger and deeper. More and more of his blood falls in tear-like form, trickling down his face and slowly falling on his beloved. His tears begin to fall on her still open wound and their blood mixes slowly. The huge gash on her stomach slowly begins to heal with each tear that touches it.

He doesn't notice the door close and a silent figure walk back to the place of the battle.