A/N: Some of the dialogue was taken directly from the episode Seeing Red.

Buffy woke with an odd sense of relief. She had cried well into the night, staying in the water until it turned cold, then curling up under the covers. At some point, she had run out of tears and sleep had swept over her. She greeted Dawn with pancakes that she didn't burn and saw her off to school on time. Hearing the giggling coming from Willow and Tara's room, Buffy planned on giving them ample space and opportunity to reconnect, thinking that she might be able to convince Spike to get out of the house. Pacing back and forth in the kitchen, hyping herself up to be determined and resilient Buffy, she was intercepted by a bumbling and hesitant Xander coming into the house.

"Hey," his voice was loud against the quiet of the house and she cringed.

"Hi."

"Can we- Uh, can we talk?"

She wanted to tell him no and throw him out of her house. Having experienced some sort of calm the night before, Buffy was in a far more forgiving mood than she might have been had he come earlier. Instead of yelling and hitting him upside the head like she wanted, Buffy decided to give him a chance to speak.

Thinking of the sensitive and most likely topical vampire in the basement and her two happy friends upstairs, Buffy said, "Sure, Xan. Why don't we take this outside?"

It was a beautiful day, a slight breeze, but no chill to the air. Had things been different, she might even have the urge to stop and smell the flowers, but then she was afraid she'd find more hidden cameras when she bent over and the urge died. Settling on the bench, Xander uncharacteristically quiet next to her, she waited for him to start.

"Any sign of Warren?"

She sighed, a niggling worry creeping over her.

"Nope."

"You'll find him. He won't be much good without his friends."

He looked so hopeful and sheepish, she couldn't stay mad.

"No. He won't."

The silence between them grew into one of understanding.

Xander said, "How did we get here?"

"Scenic route. Long drive."

"These last few weeks-"

"I know."

"I thought I hit bottom, but- It hurt. That you didn't trust me enough to tell me about Spike. It hurt."

"I'm sorry. I should have told you."

"Maybe you would have. If I hadn't given you so many reasons to think I'd be an ass about it."

"Guess we've both done a lot of things lately we're not proud of."

"When he disappeared and you thought he was going to be crazy evil and try to kill us all again, I actually got excited. I saw how the two of you- That you'd gotten close and I just, it made me a little crazy. But then he came back and he had the soul. And all of a sudden everyone was so sympathetic and loving him and I had done this terrible thing to Anya. It made me feel things about myself and about him that I didn't like. That maybe human and demon, good and evil, it wasn't all so black and white like I've wanted. That he could actually love and love you so much that he'd alter such a big part of himself-"

He couldn't finish, but Buffy got the point. Reaching an arm around his shoulder, she hugged him as tight as she could, feeling even more tension dissipate. Her mind flickered back to what Willow had said the other night, how things were getting to be of the good again, and warmth surrounded her. Xander and her were back on good terms, better than even before, Willow and Tara were happy again and Willow was off the magic, Dawn was doing well in school and actually listening to her, and that conversation with Spike the night before had seemed to take things in a better direction, made her think they may have a chance to fix things after all.

It was this feeling of relief, but also contentment that circled her stomach and made Buffy realize just how much she had missed that normalcy. It was living, these ups and downs, and she wanted it.

But then Xander's eyes went huge just as she heard movement from behind her. She pushed his body away from her and whipped around, knowing it was Warren before he even spoke. She caught a vision of the barrel of the gun before two shots rang out and life seemed to be draining out of her.

Pain and the threat of loss overtook the contentment, but the core of her still rang strong. She wanted to live and through it, she would fight. Then everything went black.

Guns had never been Spike's favorite choice of weapon, but he knew well the sound of it. His unbeating heart lay heavy in his chest, feelings of dread and panic rising him from his sleep and out of bed. He was barreling up the stairs at the sound of Willow's screams, and he caught the red-head in his arms before she could start chanting. Instead of the summoning spell he was certain she had in mind, Willow's hair flared black, her eyes matching, and she knocked him across the room as she stormed out the door. Standing, careful not to get too close to the open window, he would have chased after her, except for the sight of his kind, gentle, and loving friend lying on the ground covered in blood.

Dropping to his knees beside her, a scream of rage and pain tore out of his body. He knew it was Warren, but why Tara had been his target, he couldn't fathom. His vampire senses convinced him that Tara still had a hint of a heartbeat, so he tore the comforter from the bed and covered himself with it and bundled her up in his arms. Just as he was rushing out the door, he met a confused Dawn whose smile crumbled from her face.

"What-"

"It wasn't me- Warren, he- I was just-"

"I know."

She put her hand on his shoulder. "You can tell me on the way."

Spike got the three of them into the car and to the hospital. Dawn was shivering in the waiting room, while he tried for the hundredth time to connect with any of the other Scoobies. Deciding that right now Dawn needed his comfort more, Spike settled beside her and didn't allow himself to consider the idea that his friend might be dead.

Buffy woke to startling lights shining down on her. As her eyes adjusted, the memories of her past few moments of consciousness crashed over her. Xander's widening eyes of panic, Warren, the gun, two shots. Opening her eyes, she saw Willow, but donned in black, from her hair to her eyes staring at her. The expected pain did not come and Buffy realized Willow must have something to do with it. The woman smiled without humor and took off. Sitting up and jumping off the table, she took off after her friend.

They waited for hours. At some point, he forced Dawn to eat and he even contemplated sneaking some blood, but then images of Buffy berating him was enough to snuff his hunger. Speaking of the bint, Spike could not understand why he couldn't get in touch with Buffy or any of the others. He hoped they had at least gone after Willow, someone he kept expecting to arrive at the hospital all wild-eyed and raging. At his most desperate, he even tried to call Giles in England, but had been told the man wasn't even in the country.

Beside him, Dawn was drifting in and out of fitful sleep. Her heavy eyes would close only to burst open again, a panicked moan escaping from her lips as she remembered over and over again what had happened. Spike held an arm around her, to keep her grounded and feeling safe and secure. Despite everything that had happened, he couldn't help but think that if Buffy came, everything else would be all right too.

She was in the fight of her life and it was against her best friend. Buffy was entrusting the fact that Spike was watching Dawn, and though she knew she should try to contact them, there wasn't time between trying to calm Willow down, hear what Giles had to say, and keep Andrew and Jonathan from escaping or being taken out by Willow.

Warren was already dead, Buffy knew that much. The reason, though never confirmed, was obvious. There had been two shots and Buffy had only taken one bullet. She faced her friend, grief and fear heavy in her heart.

Morning was an hour away and Spike was starting to feel a little crazed. No one was answering the phone and he half-hoped it was because they were all in a fit of panic over him and Dawn missing. Though he didn't want to leave his friend in this condition, he knew Dawn should get home for her own sanity. He'd take her even if he had to knock her out.

He was considering his best option of doing so when the doctor taking care of Tara walked down the hallway. There was a grim expression on his face and he was muttering something Spike's vampire senses could barely make out. Something about guns being so rare in Sunnydale and yet there had been two instances in just one day. Spike remembered the echoes of two shots, but then the doctor was in front of him, and for the first time in his un-life, he prayed.

Willow, as she knew her was gone, but right now, Buffy was facing demon after demon, locked away in an underground cave. The witch had incapacitated Anya, thrown Giles down like a rag doll, and sent her to another part of town. As she fought, Buffy thought of her friends, of her sister, and of Spike, hoping and fighting for a chance to see them all again, as whole and as alive as possible.

She was alive, barely, the doctor explained, but growing stronger every second. Had Spike not arrived when he did, Tara would have been dead. It gave him purpose, made him feel not quite as worthless, knowing that she would make it through. He was on one side of her, holding her unconscious, but steady hand, with Dawn on the other. The girl, who looked younger than he had ever seen her, was still sleepy, but looked so relieved, he wished he could take away all of her pain. Too much had happened to this young girl in such a short time, to her and to her sister and their friends, and it overwhelmed him, the magnitude of that loss. It didn't matter then, that Spike would never be deserving of their love, kindness, or friendship. He would not, couldn't leave them, because so long as there was a Hellmouth, there would be trouble for them. But just as always, things had turned out in their favor. Maybe now, seeing what they could have lost, they would come back together. He would never ask or assume more, but he'd be there, in the fight with them, until it killed him. As the tears that had been threatening to spill all night overtook him, Spike thought, Better me, then them.

She was fighting, dusting, weaving, and shredding, until suddenly, she wasn't. Back on solid ground, Buffy looked around her. The air that had been swirling with invisible, mysterious, and dark power, stilled. Somehow, but she couldn't understand how, Willow had stopped. She just hoped her friend was as close to herself as possible.

Buffy rushed towards the Magic Box where Giles and Anya were regaining consciousness. They looked worn and beaten, but otherwise okay, and she nearly cried in relief. Andrew and Jonathan were gone, but right then, she couldn't bother to care about their whereabouts. She was about to suggest taking Giles and Anya to the hospital when a limping Xander and forlorn Willow came through the doors. The girl's hair and eyes were back to normal, her powerful demeanor replaced by that of pure grief and shame. Without word, Buffy crossed the store and pulled her into a tight embrace. In time, she would need to hear the story in its entirety, but for now, it could wait.

With a promise to Dawn that they would return later that day, Spike dragged her from the hospital room, reminding her that neither of them would be alive much longer if they didn't find Buffy and show her that Dawn was fine. They were arguing, in a good-natured and light sort of way, trying to determine the best method for getting home without a blanket for protection to stave off the sun, when the world stopped still.

Before him, coming through the doors of the hospital, looking ragged, exhausted, and frayed, but healthier and so much more like the old version, was his slayer. Both her and the Whelp had an arm around Willow who appeared to be back in her normal state, but far weaker. There was the Watcher, which at least explained his inability to answer the phone, and the Demon-Girl, standing a little bit back from the other three, walking towards him and Dawn, oblivious to the two of them.

Despite the fact that they had obviously been through something as well, Spike couldn't bite back the frustration that swelled in him. He cleared his throat and watched as Buffy finally looked up and noticed him. The group stopped, mere feet away, and he tore into them.

"It's about bloody time the lot of you showed up. The Bit and I have been waiting here, all night and through the day, trying to connect with you and- The poor chit is in her hospital bed, unconscious and alone, fighting for her life and you all walk in like you have time to kill. Well, let me tell you-"

"Spike-"

It was Dawn's hand on his shoulder that stopped him and forced him to look back at Buffy, her eyes wide and confused.

"Well?" He gestured behind him, down the long hallway. "What are you waiting for? It'd be nice for the girl to have a familiar face to look at when she wakes up."

Buffy's voice was barely a whisper. "Who?"

Spike rolled his eyes, but kept the sarcasm out of his voice. "Who d'you think? Who's the only one of us not standing here wasting time? She's fine. Still asleep, mind you, but fine." Spike sighed dramatically at their incompetence. "Tara."

Willow sagged between Buffy and Xander, the latter who caught her in his arms and held her tight. Legs moving of their own accord, Buffy found herself in Spike's surprised, but open arms, holding him tight as hope, love, and wonder flared through her.