Chapter Four

SO, WHAT'D HE SAY?" ASKED TARA softly, her head still resting against her pillow as Anya put down the telephone.

"There were a number of dear lords, followed by large gaps of silence and concentration," answered Anya. "There was some page turning as well, but I think Giles was able to identify what we were dealing with without doing much of the research that we fail to be so good at doing."

"So, what'd he say?" repeated Tara. "Possibly, about the creature we're dealing with."

"Oh, right," said Anya. "Well, his first guess was that it was something to do with something called thaumogenesis—a sort of side effect from casting a large and powerful spell, except in this case the side effect is a demon. Stuff from back in the days of his repressed youth."

Tara fell silent for a moment. "You mean… because of the spell we used to bring Buffy back, we brought forth a demon?"

"Not as simple as that," answered Anya. "It's not that we just brought it forth, we created."

Tara nodded slightly. She pushed herself up from under the bedcovers, propping herself up. "Like that demon that was created when Jonathan did the augmentation spell. It was the price he had to pay for using such powerful magicks."

"Yes, though technically not a price," responded Anya. "That's a gift with purchase."

"But when Buffy killed the demon, the spell was reversed," murmured Tara. "So if we destroy whatever demon that we created, what will happen to our spell? To Buffy?"

Anya hesitated for a moment, giving a weak little smile. "Willow went to the Magic Box to get some research material about the spell we cast. Assuming she's not killed in the commute to and from, we should have the information we need cast this thing out without killing Buffy."

"Thanks Anya."

* * * *

"Care to be useful, Spike?" Xander continued pushed against the entryway to Oz's old crypt and then glanced back towards Spike, holding the unconscious Buffy. The vampire handed the Slayer over to her friend and with one powerful kick knocked down the doorway into the crypt.

Xander and Spike grabbed Buffy and brought her into the cold and dank crypt. Off to the right was Oz's old cage, with the door to the cage still wide open and the idle sheets still lying dustily in the corner. The two quickly dragged the unconscious girl into the cage, and swiftly exited and slammed the cage shut. She could wake up at any moment, and although the cage generally held Oz in, there was no telling how long it could hold a Slayer…

"Okay, Buffy's all secure Spike," instructed Xander. "You should head back to the house now."

Spike shot a glance towards Xander and finally uttered a word. "No."

"Uh, what's that now?" retorted Xander dryly. "Decided to put an end to the stoic—"

"Listen, Harris," snarled Spike, "you may think that you're doing right by following everything that Red's been saying, but why don't you wait a tick, and actually think about why you're in the sodding situation you're in right now. Who was the one that dragged you into this and bollucked it all up? Who's the one who thinks she'll make it all right in one grand gesture?" Spike glanced at Buffy, as she lightly stirred, but still continued to sleep. "Who's the one that did that to her?"

Xander remained silent for a moment, unable to even verbalize anything resemble a true response. So he asked, "So then why should you stay here?"

"'Cause, after everything she's been through tonight, all the chaos and destruction that you and the Slayerettes have done to her, who's been the only one to reach her?" asked Spike. He walked over to the cage and sat down in front of it, continuing to watch her. "So, what'll it be, boy?"

But Xander had already begun to walk out of the crypt, a part of him not fully understand what he was doing but another knowing that it was the right thing to do. Solely because Xander and Willow had tried and tried, and what they had attempted to achieve during that entire night, Spike and managed to accomplish in moments.

And as much as it pained Xander, that did mean something…

* * * *

Spike waited and watched Buffy, as her chest rose and fell in an almost eternal calm that just continued to contain her. But Spike knew that after everything that had happened that night, Buffy wouldn't be able to come back from this in a matter of moments. Spike also knew that sleep was something that a Slayer rarely got, and any moments of rest that she could get were always something Buffy would seize—especially during a night like this one.

But the dreams could only last for so long. Buffy's eyes slowly began to flutter open and her dreams began to slip away, dragging her back into reality. Instinct instantly kicked in as the Slayer's eyes dropped down to the vampire.

The Slayer quickly leaped towards Spike's direction and slammed into the gate. Spike could only watch as Buffy fell down to the floor of the crypt. She got up again and tried ramming into the gate again and again and Spike could only watch her cry and struggle.

"Buffy," whispered Spike. But she didn't hear him. All she could do was try to keep on trying to fight him. Buffy eventually stopped ramming into the gates, and she finally just shot her arm between the bars of the gate, just trying to reach out and kill him.

The vampire began to move in towards the struggling Buffy and reached out to touch the distraught Slayer, but before he could Buffy instantly retracted and slammed against the wall of the cage, and slowly lowered herself to the ground.

"Buffy," said Spike, lowering himself down to the Slayer's level. She had now huddled herself into the corner of the cage, lightly banging her head against the back of the wall. "Buffy."

When Spike said her name again she stopped the slamming and her teary eyes looked straight into the vampire's eyes.

He sighed, then allowing something to escape his breath, as he turned away from the Slayer. It almost sounded like… a sob. But whatever it was that was released, was quickly covered by a crazed little chuckle. "I… I can't even explain it to you Buffy, how it feels to see and to hear you like this. Can't bear to believe what that soddin'… can't believe what's been done to you, love. I don't know what to say."

He paced back towards the gate and bent back downward and looked at Buffy. Her eyes had slowly begun to water, as she stared emptily into the surrounding darkness of her setting.

"Actually, I do owe you something," said Spike, being the only one who truly knew what Willow had done to Dawn. "I remember what I said. The promise. To protect her, till the end of the world. If I'd done that… even if you didn't make it, you wouldn't've had to jump. And if I'd protected her and watched over her like I'd swore to you, then we wouldn't be in this position, would we?"

But still she said nothing. The tears stopped rolling down her cheeks, and her eyes were watching Spike now, but no words escaped Buffy's mouth.

"But yeah, all I sayin' is… I'm sorry," concluded Spike. "Not just for that, but for so many things. I want you to know, I did save you. Not when it counted, of course. But after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again, do something different." He gave another soft little chuckle. "Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways…" Spike looked deep into Buffy's eyes, nodding softly, and whispered, "Every night I save you."

* * * *

"Not to worry all. I journeyed, I ventured, I opened, I come…ed," announced Xander slowly, stepping into the Summers' home. "I may have accidentally been frolicking between the 'ventured' and 'opened', but uh, not need fret. I elegantly nipped that in the bud." Willow, Anya, and Tara all turned abruptly at the door, with Willow's eyes instantly widening with the sight of her best friend. "I also might want to strike 'elegant' from the record as well."

"Xander?" staggered Willow, stunned, rising up from the stack of books that surrounded them.

"Xander!" Anya jumped from the stack of books and pushed passed the frozen Willow and quickly wrapped her arms around Xander. "You're alive! And not all inert and dead from being murderously attacked by a crazed and angry Slayer."

"Yep, I do that sometimes," replied Xander with a confident nod. Anya released him from her grasp and they made their way over to the pile of books that surrounded the two witches. Xander gave Tara a friendly little grin. "You got out of bed to do a little research?"

"Yeah," said Tara slowly, smiling back. "Something about focusing and reading just sorta helps to take away from the pain, you know?"

"Hmmm, not sure," said Xander. "It's just generally… well, the source of mine."

"How's Buffy?" interrupted Willow sternly. "And with Spike watching her, I'm assuming."

Xander shrugged. "A little bruised. Unconscious. But calmer, I think." He gave a weak smile and a little sigh. "And about Spike…"

"Yes," said Willow, awaiting an explanation.

"Well, just think about it for a sec," said Xander. "Out of all of us, who here has actually managed to reach her? No one except Spike."

"Or possibly Dawn," suggested Tara. "But we can't be too sure there other than…" But she just trailed off.

"So," said Xander, squatting down next to and picking up a book from the stacks, "what's the what on the spirit of Dawn? This seems like a lot of research for an exorcist, unless there's something special cause of her Keyliness."

Willow shook her head and handed Xander a book, pointing to a paragraph near the bottom of the page. "It's not a ghost or a spirit we're dealing with—it's the price we have to pay for bringing Buffy back."

"Thaumogenesis," continued Anya. "Spells can sometimes create some sorts of side-effects after the spell has been cast. Thaumogenesis is when a spell actually creates a being—a demon."

"So the thing that's been 'haunting' us, is a demon we made," finished Tara.

"We made a demon? Bad us," said Xander. "So, if we made this creepy, shifty, demony guy, why can't we see it in its normal scaly, spiny, putrid or veiny demony form? We just see it possessing people and doing things to us."

"I'm not entirely sure," answered Willow truthfully. "I think it's out of phase with this dimension. Its consciousness is here, but its body is caught in the ether between existing and non-existing."

"It doesn't have a body," simplified Tara, "so it's borrowing ours…"

"Like it did with me earlier tonight," explained Anya. "According to Willow, there was cackling and cutting and white-eyes involved—completely unattractive."

"Exactly what I was thinking when the slicing occurred," reaffirmed Willow. "It can also manifest copies of them, like when Buffy and Dawn came after us…"

"It's using them to do stuff. To scare us, attack us," said Tara. "And, in Buffy's case, try to hurt us."

"So we need to uh, 'uncreate' it now, right?" suggested Xander. "Get it the rest of the way our of our world. We should be able to do that, right?"

Willow sighed. "In theory, yes, we should, but this book says that the demon is linked to the spell. When we send it away, it's like the spell doesn't exist. Like it never happened."

"Like Buffy never…" but Xander stopped himself from finishing.

"Well yes, but there'd be some plus sides," reminded Anya. "Like Tara wouldn't be bruising, Dawn would still be here, the window would still be all frame-like…"

"But we can't just undo Buffy because she's having a little trouble… I guess, readjusting to things now," said Willow. "There has to be a way to bring her back to the way she was, because if we undo what's been done, then there's no chance we'll ever be able to bring her back and set things back to the way they were supposed to be."

"Bet the frame might have a different say in that," muttered Anya. "Or Dawn. Besides, what else could we possibly do?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure, but I think there'll be a way for us to wait out the demon," said Willow.

"How?" asked Xander.

"Cause I'm pretty sure that this is temporary," explained Willow. "It's going to dissipate. The only way for the demon to survive on our plane is if it was to kill the subject of the original spell."

"It would survive if it killed Buffy?" asked Tara.

"Right," answered Willow, "but that's not gonna—"

"Thanks for the tip," growled Xander, who's eyes were now purely white. Xander then collapsed onto the ground next to the stack of books, and the demon fled from his body in its bulgy form, fleeing from the house.

* * * *

After his several attempts to calm Buffy down and to get her to speak had failed, the Slayer had slowly fallen back into slumber. Spike, who had been watching her for many hours, had slowly fallen to sleep himself. Neither was aware of the strong gust of wind that blew outside of Oz's old crypt, swinging the door wide open, and welcoming in a ghastly, phantom, woman-like demon, floating closer and closer towards the girl that would secure its passage into the reality.

The death of the Slayer.