Well, here we are. This is the last chapter, not counting the epilogue, which is only small. Hopefully this does justice to the rest of the story, and ties things up. Happy reading!

Chapter 31

Once they reached the Hollywood sign, Angel led them to the "H" which stood over the Hellmouth. The trapdoor hadn't been hard to find, but the leap down to the darkness below was too much for an ordinary human, as Spike found out when he jumped in and didn't hit the ground until seconds later. He was forced to catch the others one by one, until Angel followed them in. Tara summoned a small globe of light to show the way, and after much searching they found the small tunnel. The maze of tunnels were hell to weave through, but when they finally reached the crevice where the Hellmouth stood many of them wished they were still in the labyrinth. They remained silent and observed Buffy as she barked orders and incarcerated vampires who did not follow them. They were preparing for a ritual of some sort, and it involved a hell of a lot of blood. Buckets of it actually, as there was a continuous line of vampires dragging heavy buckets of blood to the edge of the mouth. They were poured into four large funnels that directed the blood onto the rock-strewn walls of the Hellmouth, coating it red.

The time was near, and neither Angel nor Spike had any idea what to do.

"We could crawl around the edges," Spike offered, but Angel shook his head.

"They'd smell us," he replied.

"We could all run down there and hope that one of us gets to Buffy before the ritual starts."

"We'd all be dead before we reached the mouth," Angel said, shaking his head.

"We can bribe her with booze and cigarettes?"

Angel glanced at him and didn't bother with a reply. There seemed no logical way they could prevent this apocalypse from happening. Unless…

"Need some help?"

They turned around, and found Wesley holding a battle axe, ready for action. Gunn, Connor and the other hunters and teachers grouped behind him, bringing the total to around thirty. They all clutched weapons of some sort, a mixture of swords, axes, knives and crossbows. Their expressions were hard, determined, fierce. They were ready for battle. But it was the grieved expression on Giles' face that captivated Spike. He stood tall beside Wesley, grasping a sword, staring straight ahead. His mouth was slightly agape, the lower lip trembling in fear, horror and anger.

He saw his Slayer, barking orders to the minions scrambling around her, the hard, cold glint never leaving her eyes. She stood proud, her mouth pursed in a thin line, which seemed an attempt at a smile. The anger rushed through him in waves. That this thing should use his Slayer as a pawn to destroy the world tore him apart. The memory of her teasing smile, the happy banter and fierce fighting struck him hard, and Giles gripped the sword tightly to keep from yelling. There was no time for grieving; later, after they defeated Satan, he would be able to grieve all he liked. He pushed the glasses further up his nose and set his mouth in a grim frown.

"'Bout bloody time," Spike groused.

"The training program was false," Giles said. "It was lucky we were able to realize that the lecturers weren't human before we entered the retreat."

"We know," Angel said, glancing sadly at the Watcher.

"We need to move now," Wesley interrupted, instantly becoming the hard, efficient leader that had led them all into many battles. "Tara and Willow will position themselves on the other side of the crevice. Karla will lead you there. Tara, we're going with plan forty-two, so make sure Willow and the others are ready."

Willow and Tara followed a brunette witch and several others back into the tunnels.

"Section five will spread themselves around the edge, concealed from sight. Make sure your crossbows are fully loaded and read to go."

Around ten people nodded simultaneously and moved out. Cordelia lifted her hand.

"Uh, Wes?" she said hesitantly. "I've been practising with the crossbow. I can help them…"

He nodded and she grabbed the only remaining crossbow before following the others.

Wesley glanced at the remaining people. Two vampires, a Slayer, two Watchers, and thirteen fighters. Eighteen people. He peered over the edge again, at the numerous vampires milling about. The odds were against them, but he had faith in the witches, and nearly half would be taken out by the sharp shooters.

"The rest of you get ready to slay," Wesley said, flexing his arms as he lifted his axe.

They waited anxiously as time drifted past, the sunrise looming closer. Wesley hoped they were ready. Because if they weren't, they wouldn't even have a chance to muse on what they could have done better. They'd already be dead.

Suddenly, the demon in Buffy's body clapped her hands in glee. "Soon!" She laughed, delighting in the sound of her own girlish voice.

"Now!" Wesley bellowed, his voice harshly echoing across the cavern.

The dark cave suddenly lit up with the flaring balls of light the witches sent into the mass of vampires. Screams of agony and shrieks of pain could be heard by those around the edges, and a wave of arrows flew through the air. They connected with their targets with a dull thud, causing a muted rasp as the vampires exploded. Figures were suddenly scrambling towards the smaller tunnels, trying to escape the dusty end their companions had met. They were met by angry humans and swinging swords. The first dozen to reach each entrance were decapitated in quick succession, but then the vamps began to realize that the fireballs had ceased, and few arrows were flying. There was no more panicked fleeing from the centre of the huge dome, but there no escaping either. They formed a thick circle around Buffy, who screeched in fury.

Wesley, who shared a tunnel with Fred and Connor, advanced, signalling the others to come forward. The eighteen fighters were quickly joined by the archers. It evened out the odds a bit, but by the look of things, the vamps left were no fledglings. They were confidently sneering at the humans, and Wesley felt a twitch of doubt.

Spike had fought desperately, killing his own kind with a fierceness Gunn had never seen before. Usually Spike enjoyed sparring for a bit before the kill, preferring to play with his prey. But not today. He was here for one reason only, and that reason was Buffy. The world be damned, because he couldn't care less what happened to it. His eyes were on her, never straying a bit.

The mini-army surrounded the rock podium and the vampires, feeling victory just around the corner. That feeling was lost though, when they heard a snarl from behind them. Angel turned around ever so slowly. Around thirty vampires stood behind them, blocking off their escape routes. Angel's unbeating heart sank. They were outnumbered by about thirty, and they all possessed more speed, agility and strength then his own soldiers. But he knew they wouldn't give up hope. They never did. After so many years of fighting beside them he had never known them to give up. Not even on the edge of an apocalypse did they falter.

And then Spike had let rip a roar so fierce and full of fury that many vampires shivered. The venom dripped from the noise, and none of them wanted to find themselves facing this creature. Spike lunged forward and dragged a vampire shrieking from the ranks. None other moved to help him as Spike tore his head from his body. The dust settled, and then the human army leapt into action. At first chaos reigned. Nothing could be seen beyond dust and fallen bodies. And then some sort of order was formed, and the ASG soldiers, students and teachers slowly worked their way out of the trap they had walked into.

Spike wondered what he would do once he reached the thing in Buffy's body. Would he be able to kill it? Or would he see her in front of him, and fall apart like he had wanted to do since her lifeless body had hit the ground. Twisting sideways to avoid a fatal blow, Spike glimpsed her livid frown and dark eyes. Sunrise was only moments away. If he could only reach her…

Spike.

His head snapped up at the voice in his head.

It's me, Willow.

He glanced up at the ledge and saw her standing rigid, barely visible within the shadows.

Go to her. Now!

A heavy, mystical force hit him suddenly, and he saw that a path had been cleared in front of him. He barely gave Willow another thought as he took the chance offered him, and seconds later he was finally in front of her. Or Him. Whatever it was, it was angry. And it was staring straight at Spike.

"What can you do?" He taunted, taking a small step closer. "I can squash you like the annoying gnat you are, vampire."

"I remember," he replied. "I can still feel my ribs healing."

"Yet you come back for more?" He chuckled.

"No, I came back for her."

His chuckling ceased. "She is gone," he hissed.

"I think you missed the fine print," Spike drawled, a smirk forming on his lips.

The smile infuriated Him, and he struck out. Spike easily dodged it.

"You see," Spike continued. "There's this girl." Again, He lashed out, and Spike effortlessly ducked it. "And I found myself falling for her." A foot grazed his abdomen as he leapt back. "But I'd been told- bloody centuries ago, mind you- that if I loved her, she'd die." They continued to dance; Spike remained on defence, narrowly avoiding all strikes coming his way. "Soddin' tragic, I said back then. Didn't really care much. But now, with this soul stuck in my chest, I do care." Another jab, but Spike quickly ducked. "And it just so happens that this girl is the Slayer and that this girl is the one you killed. So as you can probably tell, I'm one pissed of vampire at the moment, and being pissed off just makes me really angry. And being really angry-" Spike suddenly stopped moving away and caught His fist with his own. They stared at each other, faces only inches away. "-makes me really strong."

Spike shoved Him back, and He stumbled. He gazed at Spike, cocking His head slightly in curiosity, as though trying to understand what could give him this new-found strength. Spike calmly stared back, until he heard a slight scuffle behind him. Whirling around, he saw Kirly bringing a stake down towards him and his only thought was of joining his love in death. But the killing blow never came. Faith flew out of nowhere, tackling the old "Watcher" around the waist and knocking her to the ground.

"Who'd've thought I'd be saving your ass, Spikey?" she said, grinning.

"Not me," Spike returned. "Now go save your own ass, Faithy."

Faith was forcefully thrown off Kirly, and she rolled a few feet before leaping to her feet. "Will do," she threw over her shoulder before assuming the fighting stance she ha seen Buffy do so often. She grinned playfully at the century-old hag. Then they both attacked, and Spike returned his whole attention to the figure behind him.

He leered at Spike. "There's nothing a touch of Slayer's blood can't fix, is there, vampire?"

Spike tried to ignore the guilt rising inside him. He had not drunk from a human in nearly a hundred years, and his refusal to do so now had been avid. But the group had been desperate, he'd been desperate, and desperate times called for desperate measures. They needed something that would give him the strength and speed to face Him, and in the end it had been the only way. He had hated the idea at first, but the sweet thought of human blood had given him some amount of perverse pleasure, and the demon had revelled in it. The two puncture holes in Faith's neck were proof of that.

Spike felt an uncomfortable tingling in his gut, and he knew the reason. Dawn was moments away, and he had to act fast.

He dropped his sword.

His fist came hard and fast, connecting with Spike's skull with enough force to split a human head. Spike merely staggered back, feeling the warm trickle of blood down his face. Another fist slammed into his chest, breaking his sternum and a couple of ribs. He felt the painful snap and the agonising slice of bone through muscle and skin. He stood still. A small foot kicked his left leg from beneath him, and as the fibular cracked and broke he fell to his knees. Gazing up at his attacker, Spike was a bloody mess.

"The smug vampire wasn't a good look for you," He sneered.

Gazing behind Him, Spike saw Faith deliver a punishing kick to Kirly's stomach and grabbing her opponent's head in both hands, the Slayer snapped her neck. Faith ripped the ancient dagger from the dead woman's fingers.

Above the fight, on the rock ledge, Willow's eyes turned black and her head snapped back as she incoherently muttered words she didn't know she knew. Suddenly, the roof of the cavern was torn open, and sunlight streamed in. Agonized screams filled the dome as vampires exploded to dust all over the cave. The humans lowered their weapons, collectively sighing in relief. Spike was grateful that the podium was still covered in shadows, and despite his external dislike for the older vampire, hoped that Angel had managed to get to shade before the roof caved in.

"No!" He bellowed. Turning to the bloodied vampire, He backhanded Spike, sending him face first into the dirt. Fingers dug into the back of his neck, and lifted him up, leaving his feet dangling a good two feet above the ground. Spike saw His murderous glare through one eye, the other forced shut by the purple, throbbing welt. Briefly glancing down, he noticed that he was hanging over the gaping Hellmouth. He felt the sweltering heat from the eternal fires below, and caught the distinct stench of burning human flesh.

"You're too late," He hissed. "Nothing can save you now."

He saw the knife hurtling through the air towards him, stained with Faith's blood. "This can."

He snatched the knife from the air and drove it into His heart with all the strength he could muster.

The screams were unlike anything ever heard by human or vampire ears. The high-pitched wail was indescribable, other than it permeated every being's soul within hearing distance. Everyone dropped to their knees, clutching their heads, trying to drown out the shrieks.

Spike writhed in Satan's grip. His eardrums burst, and blood dripped from his ears. The skin on his neck was blistering from the devil's grip, and his broken bones protested when he moved. He fell still, overcome by weariness and grief. All he wanted was for the pain to be over. All he wanted was to see Buffy's beautiful smile, to see her eyes light up as they land on him. All he wanted was to touch her again, to brush his lips lovingly on hers. All he wanted was her.

A blinding flash erupted from the Hellmouth, slamming into Satan, and a fiery, ghost-like figure was pulled from the small vessel. It was dragged away from the body, its arms clawing at the air, screaming in sheer fury. Then it plunged into the mouth of Hell, and everything fell silent. The bottomless pit was black; the fires had ceased once the Hellmouth had closed. Sunlight filtered into the grotto, alighting on the weary figures of war standing on the dusty battlefield. A tiny bird fluttered through the hole, swooping in circles, then flew back into the daylight.

The fingers around Spike's throat loosened, and the last thing he saw before plummeting into the dark depths was the clear green eyes on the woman he loved.

She opened her eyes. Her body ached all over, and the surface she laid on was hard and rough against her skin. She sat up gingerly, blinking rapidly. There were so many people staring up at her, all clutching weapons and sporting injuries and wound. Some lay dead on the ground, bodies twisted in unnatural poses. The freedom, the peace, the soft light…it was gone. Was she in Hell?

She heard a soft grunting, and crawled to the edge of the gaping hole. She squinted, trying to pierce the thick darkness. She could make out a blurry outline of someone, but alarms rang in her head and body, warning her of danger. She scrambled back, frightened by the unfamiliar feeling.

"Help…"

She startled at the pleading voice, and then recognised the word. It was filled with weariness and pleading, and it forced her back toward the edge. Her eyes had adjusted to the shadows now, and she saw him clinging to the cliff face. She felt a warn heat low in her stomach, and soon a comforting tingle in her blood had overrun the prickle of fear. Without realizing it, she reached down and offered her hand. Another hand grasped onto it, and she almost gasped at the spark the contact created. She hauled the figure onto the ledge, scuttling back as the injured man became visible.

He stared at her, his eyes wide and unbelieving. She felt herself blush at his gaze, and wondered why. He reached out hesitantly, drawing back when his fingers were inches fro her face. And then he touched her cheek.

She gasped as the memories hit her. Who she was, what she was, where she was… She remembered everything. She remembered Spike.

"God, Buffy…"

Spike fell to his knees, tears sliding down his cheeks. She realized that she too was crying, and she knelt before him. He wrapped his arms around her lithe body, pulling her tightly to his chest. He ignored the pain racing through his body. None of that mattered. Buffy was here, alive, in his arms…There was no more pain.

Buffy felt into his embrace, allowing his strong grasp to hold her up. She was here, alive, in his arms… And she knew that this was better than Heaven.

To be concluded…