1 year later, back at the church...

Buffy stared into the flickering flame and wept. Find him! She pleaded to no one in particular. She had always believed in the forces of good and evil, how could she not? However, she had never really understood who the leader, the king' of good was. From what she could tell, The First was the ruler of evil. The way it commanded its followers and took charge over obedience, it was obviously the real Big Bad. But who was the ruler of all good, the Great Good? God? The Powers That Be? A god like Glory...only good?

Whoever it was, the highest power of good, the slayer was calling to them. She was desperate now! Before she had always counted on her watcher and friends to help her solve problems and defeat evil. This time she was on her own. Nobody could help her.

Sobs wracked her body and there was such a pain in her chest that she wanted to die. It would be the only way to make the pain stop. Her heart felt as if it were being pulled apart--ripped into two! She remembered all the things she should have said, all the things she should have done.

Then she remembered the things she had said and done.

The pain grew.

What do you want from me?! She screamed at the cross. Her shoulders slumped in hopeless surrender.

She felt weak. Never had she felt so without strength. She was a vampire slayer--blessed with extra strength and powers to defeat her foes! Yet she couldn't even stand. Her head ached and her eyes burned from her raging tears. She could see only a little, and what she did see was but a blur of color. The color was quickly fading.

She breathed in and it made her feel sick. Her stomach convulsed and she felt like she was going to vomit. Her lungs ached for air and it made her feel even worse. Her ears were ringing, even in the silence, and her head pounded to an unheard rhythm. Every muscle in her body now ached from the strain of her sobs.

She could not take it anymore. Her body was giving up on her. It had taken too much and now it needed a rest. She wanted to sleep forever. Her eyes were heavy and she let her upper body lower itself, her head gently laying itself on the polished wood floor.

It was cold.

So cold.

The slayer felt herself slipping away. She closed her eyes and waited for the end to come. On any other night she would have cared that she could no longer stand. On any other night she would have asked why her body was giving up on her. But tonight was not any other night. Tonight, she didn't care. She was just glad that it would be over soon. The pain would be gone forever...again.

Silently she wished that her friends would let her lie this time. Peace swept over her for an instant as she remembered the presence magic at her death in order to be raised again. This time, there was no magic--at least not the kind that would rush her to her death. This magic had kept her alive for so long.

She loved him.

The slayer's body shuddered as the last sobs left her. She did not know that she lay dying of a broken heart on the cold floor of a church. Neither did she know that her next breath would be her last. She only knew the pain would finally be gone.

*******

He stood in silence and watched her. She was so beautiful! His sweet Goldilocks. Her long, soft hair...she smelled like fresh picked berries. Those sparkling eyes...so full of life when she felt loved and protected. Those lips, oh those lips! So sensuous and smooth. Those lips gave him life!

He watched her now. She moved so gracefully. She was kneeling in front of the candles under the cross. His angel. She was lighting a candle. For someone? For him? No. She could never do that for him. He was evil. He was a monster. She had lost somebody close to her. The witch? The carpenter? Oh, god! Not the li'l bit! Maybe the watcher--oh no! Was there another Big Bad in town? What did I miss? I should have been here. It's all my fault!

Guilt ripped him once again. His breath left him and he began to feel dizzy. He steadied himself with another look at her. She was so beautiful, but so sad, and it was because of him.

Please find him!

He jumped as her words echoed through the fog of silence. In seconds the silence found itself again, merged together like nothing had disrupted its smooth pattern. A fog.

Find him please! Bring him back. I need him--please!


Her voice started him again, struck his heart like a knife.

I can't live without him.

Her voice so full of pain and desperation--he gave that to her, he knew.

He watched her cry.

Her sobs rang throughout the still sanctuary. His heart, though dead and unbeating, felt as though someone had taken in it in the palms of their hands and squeezed every drop of blood out of it. Though he could not see it, he knew her angelic face was now soaked in her salty tears. How he longed to comfort her!

No. Please don't cry--I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!

He knew his thoughts could not save her. He wanted to run to her, to hold her gently in his arms, to love her. But he was too evil to be with her. He would not do that to her...not again.

She missed him.

On any other night, he would have delighted himself in that very thought. But tonight was no other night. Tonight he knew he was evil and she did not deserve the pain of missing something so evil--so unworthy.

He felt weak. He fell to his knees as her pain ravished him, scorched him to the very essence of his being. His evil being.

he whispered, finally unable to control the body jarring sobs and the torrent of tears hiding within him.

He broke.


He watched through his tears as she slowly gave up hope and let herself fall to the cold floor. She was dying. Dying of a broken heart that he gave her. She was falling into a darkness more desolate than his own.

It was a desperate whimper passed his lips, he managed from the pit of his empty stomach.

He heard her last breath.

Silence.

Death.

What have I done? What--have--I--done?!

 he cried out at the empty pews. Buffy--oh god--Buffy! What have I done? His head hurt, oh how it hurt!

Silence.

His scream filled the silence, echoed throughout the night, searching for a stronghold to carry it away from the death and the solitude.

He wept.

He couldn't breathe. He gasped for air but it would not come. The tears would not stop. His gut was wrenched from the gasping sobs.

Help her, he sobbed, pleading at the cross towering above his angel. He forced himself to stand and face the cross, to face every last bit of courage he had left inside of him. HELP HER!!!

It was a demand.

Suddenly, a strong wind darted through the open doors behind him and fled toward the cross. The candles' miniature flames were snuffed out, leaving tiny, swirling strings of smoke. Darkness took over the sanctuary, giving it a cold and lonely feel. The wind howled up into the rafters, calling for something...or someone. Dust showered down upon vampire and slayer, sparkling in the small flecks of moonlight appearing through the door. Song books that had been neatly arrayed on the pews or inside the small wooden pouches built in back were now scattered over each other and the floor. A picture of the Holy Mother and a baby fell to the floor with a shattering of glass. The walls rattled and threatened to come away from their post and crash into the center. The earth began to shudder and quake. Then as sudden as it has began, it stopped.

Silence.

***

She opened her eyes.

Slowly the slayer rose, to her knees then to her feet. The cross stared down at her with a blackened expression. She wanted desperately to shout at it and force it to turn away, but it would not. She had heard him. Was he talking to her in his dreams?

She was abruptly aware of a presence far greater than her own. Suddenly a bright light filled the open expanse of the darkened asylum. The brightness of the light stung her eyes forcing them to close. Quickly she turned away from the light--away from the cross. Her eyes opened on command.

She stared.

Spike!

He stood clothed all in black, his duster blowing behind him in a breeze she did not feel. His hair moved too and his eyes sparkled in the light.

The light.

It was him!

He glowed with a blinding radiance! A bright light swirled around him, cradled him, was seeping out from him.

Was it white? Was it yellow?

She couldn't tell! Too bright!

She didn't care!



Buffy ran to him, her prince of darkness--only he wasn't of darkness! He was of light--he was light!

The world began to spin, but he caught her. He always did. He was her prince--her saviour. He caught her in his strong arms and buried himself in her warmth and smell. She wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could so he could never leave her again! She would not let him. Not again.

No more did she need death. He was her life and he had returned.

She was finally in her haven.

Slayer and vampire collapsed in each other's embrace, fell to their knees sobbing into each other's shoulder.

I love you, Spike.

I'm so sorry, Buffy.

Without another blessed breath, their lips met in a passionate caress. Neither lover noticed the light slowly surrounding them, shooting from them, nor did they notice the path the light took from their deep love into the clear, starlit sky above them. Two new stars began to twinkle overhead, brighter than any other stars in any other galaxy.

At the front of the church sat a large table covered in white cloth and many tiny glass jars of precious, ivory waxed columns, only one of which still stood resplendent in its tiny orange flame. Behind the table stood a magnificent cross glowing in the bluish moonlight, orange candlelight, and white light of Heaven. It was floating.

The candle watched. It saw the two lovers find each other again. It was a miracle. Their miracle. The tiny flame grew a little, the candle seeming to smile. Its lost soul had finally been pulled from the darkness and brought into the light. It had been found by an angel. Now the flame could finally rest as it was no longer needed to light the way home. Its soul was home. With a final stretch and a flicker, the tiny orange flame winked out.


The End