AN: Wrote this before I saw the episode "Seeing Red." I wasn't happy with Season Six. Can you tell?

AN: As has been stated before, my other Buffy fanfics can be found on my Archive, which is linked on the profile page.

The first blow crushed Spike's sternum, and slammed him into the wall of the crypt. The next two broke his kneecaps in quick succession, the last one, crushed his vocal cords. He lay on the floor, twitching and struggling like a fish on dry land. Trying to scream. Trying to beg, or explain, or maybe just curse.

Xander let the sledgehammer drop to the ground, breathing hard after his efforts. The rage that had driven him this far still hummed in his ears, still boiled in his veins, but his mind was clear, as it had not been when he had first stormed into the crypt. It wasn't just what Spike did to Buffy, it wasn't even what Spike had done with Anya--not entirely.

It was Giles leaving. It was fires in the night and a car crash. It was Willow being a "magic addict" and the consequences of dark magic. It was Buffy having been in Heaven, not hell, the way Willow had thought--or said. It was Buffy so hating her life, herself that she was willing to kill in an effort to regain "normality." It was Buffy having died in the first place, it was his messed up relationship with Anya. It was Dawn stealing and a ruined wedding. It was every pain and frustration and set back he'd experienced his entire life, it was Buffy falling off the pedestal he kept putting her on. It was the murky gray where he'd been told things were black and white.

It was Jesse. Jesse was at the center, and everything Xander was feeling revolved around him. It was Jesse being dead, dead by accident, more than anything else. It was just about every other vampire being given second and third chances, when Jesse hadn't even gotten one. It was Angel being forgiven for his many sins, breaking Jenny Calendar's neck being not the least of them. It was Spike not being staked the first time he started playing games. It was Harmony, alive and well when his best friend was dust on the floor.

Though the effort was mostly superfluous, Xander hog tied the vampire, then carried him out to the car. Spike didn't struggle, or make any sound of protest, eyes wide and glassy in what would have been shock in a human. He shoved Spike into the back seat, covered him with a tarp, slammed the door shut, then got into the car himself. He didn't start the car immediately, though.

There would be no coming back from this, he knew that--but it was too late to stop now. The few belongings he wanted to take with him were in the trunk, and he'd already quit his job, and had interviews lined up out of state.

Xander took a deep breath, and put the key in the ignition, started the car, and pulled out of the cemetary.

He left Spike, still wrapped in the tarp, near a gas station between Jerome and Clarkdale.