With Every Decision

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the warped plots generated by our imaginations.

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: WayWard Childe and I, SquirlyForSpike in case y'all didn't know, write together under the name of Squirly Childe. We started this fic a while back and the other day WayWard asked me if I wanted to wrap this part up. He'll put up an epilogue in a few days or when he gets the muse for it. We're both busy on other fics, him with Blood Knights in Gotham (nominated for awards!) and me with Resurrected and Silence Is Golden Unless… and completely appreciate everyone who's following our insanities. Thank you for your patience in waiting for the end to this fic. There will be sequels in the future.

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Giles woke to the sound of frantic pounding on his door. He noted the time as he searched for his robe and slippers before going downstairs. Just past dawn if the soft light streaming in the windows was anything to go by, he thought. Muttering to himself about the rudeness of the children he'd adopted as his own, he wrenched the door open. Shocked at seeing Angel leaning on his doorframe, trying to stay out of the brightening rays of the sun, Giles fell back, allowing the master vampire to enter. Angel's haunted dark eyes glittered in the dim glow of the living room lamp.

"Angel?" Giles secured his robe and straightened his glasses. "What's wrong?"

The dark vampire started as if surprised to hear the Watcher speak. "B—buffy. Vision." Angel gasped.

Fear shot through Giles. "What about her?"

"S—spike's crypt." Angel closed his eyes as the vision of her lifeless body on the filthy floor of the crypt forced its way into his thoughts.

"Oh my." Giles started up the stairs to get dressed. "Wait here." He threw over his shoulder as he broke into a run, taking the stairs two at a time. The look on Angel's face spurring him on as he threw on whatever clothing was available.

Angel inhaled deep needless breaths in an effort to calm himself. He'd driven the two hour trip from LA in a blind panic. The realization the she was truly dead was seeping into his soul and tearing him to pieces. He picked up the phone and called Xander and Willow, asking them to come as soon as possible.

Spike's Crypt…

Stunned silence reigned in the crypt Spike had called home. Buffy's body had been carefully laid out on the floor. Willow sobbed, breaking the silence.

Angel knelt next to the bloodless body and tried to keep from howling out his grief. Giles sat heavily into the battered armchair Spike liked to sit in to watch his tiny television. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose as he faced his nightmare again. This was the third time his slayer had died and this time it was final. There was no coming back from this one. Whatever had killed her had made sure of it. The body was cold.

"Spike did this." Xander growled. "He's dead. I'm gonna fit him in an ashtray. How could we have let him hang around so long? I hate him!" Tears streamed down the carpenter's face as he stood helplessly over Buffy's body.

While running through the sewers to the crypt, Angel had come to a difficult decision. Hoping that what he was about to do was the right thing, he looked at the three heartbroken members of Buffy's family.

"Spike didn't do this." He stated.

"What do you mean? Of course he did it. This is his crypt. No one else would dare come in here." Xander's anger battled with his sorrow.

"If Spike had killed his third slayer he'd be here rubbing it in. Gloating over it. He's not. So he couldn't have done it." Angel argued.

"Then what happened?" Willow asked, wiping at the tears cascading down her pretty face.

Angel stood up and gazed down at Buffy's oddly peaceful face. He inhaled, pretending to scent the area for clues. He closed his eyes, ignoring the puzzlement on the others' faces. He followed Spike's unique scent as he slowly walked around the crypt. He would never admit to just whose trail he was following. He opened his eyes as he got to the sarcophagus. He carefully walked around the stone coffin, finally spotting the scrap of crumpled paper on the floor. He picked it up and tears rose as he caught the scent of Spike's own tears from the paper. He handed it to Giles wordlessly.

The Watcher noticed the watermarks on the lined paper as he read the note.

'I've gone to find out what happened and why. I don't know who it was but I'm going to find out. I have to finish it for her. Don't expect me back until I have the answers.

Spike'

Angel squashed down his guilt over his part in Buffy's death and kept his face expressionless.

"He's gone."

"I still think he did it." Xander grumbled, trying to pretend he didn't have sobs hitching in his chest making it hard to breathe.

Angel caught a sharp unnecessary breath. "No, he didn't. His scent isn't even on her…" His voice broke for a second. "Her body."

Willow walked over to her life-long friend and slid her arms around his waist. She buried her damp face in his broad chest and held on almost desperately. Xander's arms came up and encircled the redheaded witch's shoulders, hugging her close. He laid his head on top of hers and closed his eyes. United in their overwhelming grief, they stood there for long minutes.

Giles smoothed the creases from the note and folded it carefully before sliding it into his pocket. He would slip it in between the pages of his Watcher's Journal. He dreaded having to write his final entry but knew it had to be done. Salty tears slid down his suddenly aged face as he sat in stony silence, not quite able to tear his eyes away from his fallen slayer, his daughter.

They all jumped when Xander cleared his throat. "Um… Who's gonna tell Dawnie?"