Dying was weird, Buffy decided. She could feel the pounding of her heart slowing, and feel the blood rushing from her neck into Malcah's mouth. Altogether it was not an unpleasant experience. Sure there was a slight twinge of pain associated with every pull of her blood. But there was also a feeling of contentment, like she was going home. The feeling in her legs, arms, fingers and toes left her body and the Slayer's head fell limply onto Malcah's lap. She had one last coherent thought before death took her.
Spike
Malcah had posed no threat to Spike. Powered purely by adrenaline he had thrust a stake into her back and watch with satisfaction as she turned to dust. Then his attention had been focused solely on the Slayer. The fact that he could no longer hear her heart beating didn't phase him. After all, his heart no longer beat and he was still existing. What worried him was the fact that the heat that usually radiated from her skin was no longer there. In fact, her limbs were all ice cold.
"Wake up baby. Come on sweetness, open your eyes," Spike pleaded. Tears obscured his vision as he cradled Buffy's head on his lap and rocked her gently. "Come back to me love, don't leave me." Spike raised his eyes heavenward and for the first time since he was turned he prayed.
It wasn't much of a prayer. It was a single word. It had nothing to do with god or angels or mercy or salvation. It had everything to do with his heart. Spike whispered "please," and somewhere, someone heard his plea, because the Slayer's heart began to beat.
Buffy didn't know why she was awake again, but she knew she was. That was the first thing she became aware of. The second was the fact that she was being held and rocked by strong arms. "Spike," The Slayer murmured softly.
"I'm here baby," Spike assured her. "I'm here and you're here with me. You're gonna be okay." Spike ran his fingers gently over the bite mark that adorned Buffy's neck.
"I hurt," She whispered.
"I know sweetness. I'm gonna' get you inside. You're gonna' be okay." Spike lifted Buffy off the ground and carried her away from the graveyard. Giles, Xander and Willow followed a few feet behind. It was a testament to how oblivious the residents of Sunnydale were that no one out of their homes remarked on how strange it was to see four people walking through the streets, weapons in hand.
It was nearly dawn when Spike got Buffy inside their hotel room. He had sent Giles, Willow and Xander home with assurances that Buffy would be all right. She was alright. Since her heart had began beating once more it had stayed steady and strong, and her limbs had warmed up. She was okay. His girl was brave and strong. She was going to be just fine. He knew it. It was just, seeing her lying on the ground, dead, had done a number to him. Spike kissed Buffy's forehead gently and then crawled into bed next to her. Wrapping his arms around her in a protective embrace he began to cry.
"What's wrong?" Buffy asked.
"You were dead," Spike whispered.
"I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere. Malcah's gone and I'm here with you," The Slayer assured her lover.
"I love you so much," Spike whispered.
"I know baby. I love you. Forever," Buffy said, before drifting off into sleep.
"And after," Spike whispered and then followed his love into slumber.