Disclaimer: see chapter 1

9: TWO OF US

As Spike and Buffy ran down the hallway, they could hear the sounds of concrete collapsing. Pained voices shouted to one another and gasped as the life drained from them, and a the general din of battle made the air heavy.

Suddenly Spike turned a corner and was faced with the end of the hallway. The white walls were so bare that their lack of adornment seemed obnoxiously obvious and oppressive. The end of the hallway of Buffy's mind, and there was no grandeur marking its significance. Just a blank wall, with a single door punched through the middle of it.

The door itself seemed like it could have been ornate, once. It was taller and sturdier than the Sunnydale High-styled doors from earlier, and its solid wood wasn't even. The surface had obviously been carved to begin with, but the shapes and designs had been worn away. The old-fashioned hinges had perhaps once been smooth and strong, but the same abuse had dented and weakened them. Nevertheless, the decrepit door stood as a steadfast challenge, as if it said "I've seen the worst, and I'm completely prepared to give it to anyone who defies me." Spike stared at it dubiously.

"Through there," Buffy told him confidently.

Spike stepped up to the door, and reached towards the metal handle.

"Bloody hell!"

The exclamation reverberated down the maze-like hallways. Dawn stood up suddenly, worried. "That's Spike!"

Angel groaned. "Sounds like."

"Bloody, sodding, fucking hell!"

Dawn broke into a furious run, aiming at the door Spike and Buffy had disappeared into. Just as she neared it enough to crash into the wood, the lock popped open and the door swung inwards, allowing her to pass through. She tore through Angel's bedroom and past the room of the abandoned house, down the hallways towards the sound of the vampire's voice. Not a single door met her with resistance. "Spike..." she breathlessly shouted as she ran, "Spike, I'm coming to help you!"

Buffy slapped at Spike's hand, extinguishing the flames. He then brought it to his mouth and licked the sores, allowing his vampire saliva to speed up his natural healing rate. "The door...I guess it's shielded."

"That was a sodding stupid thing for you to do to it," he grumbled.

Buffy looked indignant, even through her malady. "What? Me? I didn't do anything to it! It's just, I guess, extra protection...Since what's in there is the most severely poisoned part of my brain..." She coughed, and Spike could tell that she was only getting sicker.

"Right, so there's a safety lock on the door we need to get through. But where's the bloody key?"

How come all the doors are opening? I'm not even touching them! And they're locked at first, but somehow... Dawn's mind zoomed backwards in time, a sudden memory flashing before her.

She stood in front of Glory, her heart pounding. She knew this dangerous woman could kill her as easily as Dawn could crush an ant under her shoe.

"What's it for? I mean ... if it's a key, there's gotta be a lock, right?"

Dawn gasped. Maybe not just one lock, she realized. Maybe it's more like...any lock.

"Spike! Buffy!" Dawn was out of breath but she forced out the names.

Spike looked at his Niblet gravely. "Dawn, your Big Sis...she's dying." Dawn turned her gaze to Buffy, looking almost angry. "I could help her, if only that sodding door would let me through –"

"No problem." Dawn actually smiled, a little. For the first time in her entire life she was being really and truly helpful. For the first time since she'd found out, being a big weird ball of pre-historic energy seemed pretty awesome.

The teenager stepped up towards the door, and put her hand on its handle. "Bit, watch –" Spike started to shout, but no fire leapt out at the girl. Instead, there was a grating noise from behind the heavy door, and it swung open.

"Niblet, how did you..."

"She's the Key," said Buffy proudly with sudden understanding.

The sounds from beyond the door were agonizingly loud without the muffling of the solid wood. Voices sailed above the sounds of battle.

"Go on, then."

"No! No, you've done enough! You could still—"

"What do I have to do, Buffy?"

"No, you've beaten them back. It's for me to do the cleanup."

Faith called to her frantically. "Buffy, come on!"

Buffy coughed. "Just...Step in there...Play the part, live it again..."

"Gotta move, lamb. I think it's fair to say, school's out for the bloody summer."

Spike stepped through the doorway and felt like he'd been sucked into a tornado. Suddenly he was standing at the Hellmouth, an army of Übervamps being blasted by the light coming from the amulet around his neck. He was there once more, saying the words he said when he knew he had only a few more seconds to live.

"Spike!"

"Spike..." Buffy whispered after him, watching him adjust to the surroundings she was so sure he remembered.

"I mean it! I gotta do this." Spike knew he had two Buffys to save now instead of one.

Suddenly the amulet's light flared up and memory-Buffy threaded her fingers through Spike's. The two hands burst into flame, but Buffy ignored them and looked into her vampire's eyes steadily.

"I love you."

"No, you don't," said Spike softly, reciting from a million dreams. "But thanks for saying it."

There were a few moments of cold, deathly silence, and then the scene deviated from the way Spike recalled it. The crumbling walls of Sunnydale High disintegrated faster, turning into dust. He felt the fire, lapping at his body, but instead of intense pain he felt numb. The Buffy in front of him spat blood out of her mouth, coughing so intensely she was unable to breathe. Spike noticed the blood under her skin stop flowing, causing her flesh to become bright red and fade into purplish blue. She writhed in agony, welts cracking open all over her body and pouring blood out onto the dirt.

"No..."

"What's happening?" Willow demanded of the nurse worriedly. "What's wrong with Buffy?"

The Slayer twisted in the bed, choking and tangling herself in the sheets as she flailed her limbs. She let out a terrible scream, spewing pain, fear, and stabbing sadness into the entire building.

"The heart monitor!" shouted Wesley, pointing to the beeping device.

The entire room was silent as they watched the computerized waves show Buffy's heartbeat grow fainter and fainter. Suddenly the room was filled with a single, solid tone. "Oh God..." said Gunn, to no one in particular.

Spike saw the Buffy who waited outside the door fall to the ground. He heard two identical heartbeats slow and weaken. "No...God, Buffy!" He ran to the side of the guide-Buffy, pulling her into his lap.

"Spike..." she coughed.

"Shh, luv, it'll be alright...I'll save you, I promised..." Even as he said the words, he knew he'd failed her. Again she was dying, and he hadn't been able to keep his promise to her. Already in his arms her heartbeat wavered out, and cracks appeared in her otherwise smooth skin. Her potent blood oozed from the blisters covering her skin, and to Spike it smelled poisoned and dead.

"No!" he hollered.

Suddenly he stood on the back of a ledge. A small army of teenage girls battled ugly Übervamps. The scythe in Buffy's hands was a deadly but graceful weapon, twirling around her fingers to slice the head off of one Turok-han, and stake another.

I love what you are, he remembered saying, what you do...how you try. Spike realized that he no longer really felt his love for Buffy, because it had become such a natural part of him. Loving her wasn't about wanting her or feeling the pain of her rejection, or even about wanting to laugh of joy when she entered the room. It was about glowing.

Which seemed to be what he was doing currently. "Buffy!" he shouted. She turned towards him, shock evident in her expression.

"Spike!" He was surprised to see other emotions on her face...Concern...Pride...

Suddenly sunlight exploded from the medallion, flooding the cavern with a purification energy that burned every Turok-han to a crisp. "I can feel it, Buffy..." he told her.

She watched him, panicking but having no idea what to do to help him. "What?"

"My soul. It's really there." He half-smiled, and felt happiness consume him as he glowed. He was helping. He was really, finally helping Buffy, and he didn't care if he died doing it. Especially not when he knew he'd come back. "It kind of stings."

Buffy looked around them frantically, and then back at Spike. He saw something else in her expression, a powerful feeling he could see through her eyes. It was wonderful and painful and bloody bewildering.

"Buffy, I...I've gotta do this! I've gotta help, it's the only thing I can do."

She stared at him, and she looked almost angry. "Spike! I know, but – I don't want to lose you down here..."

A large piece of the ceiling fell feet from where the two of them stood. "Pet, you've got to get out of here. Don't worry about me, hurry up and go!" Flames erupted all over his body.

Buffy clasped his hand bravely. "I don't want to be up there without you, Spike." She paused, scanning his face. Searching for a way to achieve credibility. "I love you."

All the same thoughts scurried through Spike's mind. No, she doesn't. She's just saying it to save my life. Or she's saying it because I'm dying, and she won't have to deal with the consequences. She knows it's what I want to hear. She can't have forgotten – she can never love me, because I'm a monster. But memories rose unbidden to Spike's eyes.

"I can't love you. I'm just ... being weak, and selfish...and it's killing me. "

"Could you stay here?" "Will you just hold me?"

"This might be the key to everything. And the reason I'm holding it is because of you."

Spike remembered holding Buffy on the sofa in LA. And after making love inside her head. He remembered every time he'd ever held her and imagined what it would be like to hear her say it. He could hear her voice. "I love you."

"I love you, Buffy."

Spike was on fire. Her hot lips against his sent almost intolerable warmth through his body out to the tips of his fingers and toes and made his cock press painfully against his jeans. He loved her, and she loved him. And it didn't matter at all that they were both going to die in just a few seconds, because Buffy loved him.

"Unbelievable," Wesley murmured as the steady beep of the heart monitor jumped back to life.

"Her heart beats again," Illyria informed the room. "She is always dying and returning, is she not? I remember Angel's grief last time..."

Wesley looked at her suspiciously. "How can you? You weren't there."

Illyria tilted her head. "No. But I remember it." Wesley looked at her curiously, at the look in her eyes that was almost unquestionably Fred's.

Suddenly Spike, Dawn, and Angel appeared, sprawled in a pile on the floor. Dawn and Angel picked themselves up, but the blonde vampire remained unmoving on the floor.

"What happened?" Angel looked from face to face.

Willow looked at Angel, a little confused. "Looks kinda like you saved her, to me."

Angel looked over at the Slayer, sleeping peacefully on the hospital bed. "I didn't save her. Spike did."

Like it? Tell me what you think!