Title - Full Circle
Author – darkravine
Rating- MATURE – graphic violence, language and sex
Pairing- B/S, X/A, W/T
Summary - Post HB - Spike leaves Sunnydale and gets caught up in that pesky route of redemption, Buffy attempts to come to terms with her feelings, while a new evil arrives in Sunnydale.

A/N - I struggled with the decision to upload this chapter, as it hasn't been updated in something like 10 years. But I came across an old draft of this story and got bitten by the writing bug again, so here it is. I realize most of you won't have any recollection of this fic at all, so thanks in advance to those who give it a try anyway. To the few who might have read this before, there have been some edits, but the plot hasn't been changed in any way. Most of the things changed had to do with the fact I was 20 when I originally started this, and a lot of the writing was ... a little rough, to say the least. It's still not perfect, but I don't think any writer is completely satisfied with their work, so here it goes. :-)

Feel free to leave a review - constructive criticism is always appreciated :-)

Chapter 19: Out of the Ruins

The rhythmic bang of the weapons chest reverberated throughout the house. For Dawn, the commotion was almost comforting – the familiar sounds of battle. Her lips pressed together in a grim line as she tentatively took hold of Willow's hand. Just not tonight. Her eyes swept around the room, focusing on the puddle of dried blood on the carpet where they had found Willow and then at the bandages she had wrapped around Willow's wrist, already stained a reddish-brown. So much blood. It was familiar, sure. But these days, it seemed like they'd had their fill of blood and battle.

Giles appeared in the doorway, one of Buffy's axes slung around his shoulder. Dawn recognized it as Buffy's favorite, and she found herself wishing that her sister was there to take it from him. It looked all wrong on Giles. She turned back to Willow.

"Dawn, you do understand why you have to stay here," he said softly from the doorway, and it took everything in her not to sigh like a petulant child.

"I get it, believe me. Especially after last time." She reached over to Willow's forehead and smoothed a few strands of hair back. "I'd just get in the way," she added softly.

"That's not it at all," Tara said reassuringly, side-stepping around Giles before taking a seat on the other side of Willow's bed. She grabbed Dawn's hand and squeezed. "The truth is, Willow's going to need you if she wakes up." She looked over at Willow for a moment and then back to Dawn. "She might not … know what's happening to her."

Dawn furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

But Tara was looking back at Willow, cupping her cheek reverently.

Giles shuffled in the doorway, and Tara got up gradually. "Time to go?" she asked, and Giles nodded.

Dawn eyed Giles' axe wearily. "I still don't know what you expect to do. I mean, if this is really Elton, then … well, I'm pretty much expecting him to just kick all your asses. No offense. It's just … he's like, un-killable."

Tara and Giles exchanged a look before Giles nodded at Tara. "Elton stole Willow's magic," she began, her eyes flitting to the floor and then back to Dawn. "Not just a little, but all of it. And stealing magic isn't like stealing a wallet or a car. Magic is a part of someone. It's connected to that particular person, in ways I still don't understand." She paused, and bit her lip, seemingly grasping for words. "He has a part of Willow in him now, and Willow's not an un-killable demon. She's mortal. And since he used Willow's magic to enter back into this world and restore his body, it's a pretty sure bet that his body is mortal as well."

Dawn nodded slowly. "Okay. I kind of get it. But … what if you're wrong? What if Elton's just as strong as he was last time, except now he has all of Willow's magic in him, too?"

Giles smiled grimly. "That is a chance we'll have to take. We can't allow Elton to roam this Earth freely. Even if that means we die trying." He leveled his gaze at Dawn, eyes searching hers.

Dawn held his gaze for a moment, but then she could feel the tell-tale prick of tears behind her eyes, and she launched herself into Giles' arms. Giles patted her back awkwardly, and she smiled a little through the tears. Even after everything, it never failed to amuse her how uncomfortable Giles still got with any kind of affection. "Well, I'm counting on you not to get killed," she sniffled into his sweater. "Buffy is a sucky cook and I might die of malnutrition if you don't come back."

And then Giles was laughing. She pulled away and smiled at him appreciatively, and then enveloped Tara in a hug as well. "Stay safe," she whispered seriously, and she could feel Tara nod.

"I will," Tara promised solemnly as she pulled away, and she nodded to indicate Willow. "Take care of her."

Dawn nodded, and Tara and Giles were turning to go when something occurred to her. "How are you going to find him?"

Giles sighed heavily. "I can only think of one thing that could possibly be on Elton's mind right now … revenge. He'll go after your sister and Spike. Of that, I am certain."

Tara nodded gravely. "We figured we'd just head towards the screaming."

"H-how?"

Buffy's voice, a stunned whisper, brought a slow smile to Elton's face. "Oh, it was nothing," he replied icily, snapping his wrist in a brisk wave. "Your little witch friend helped me out this time. Which begs the question: why do your friends keep betraying you, Slayer? First, your boyfriend," and his gaze briefly flitted over to Spike, "now, your best friend – doesn't it just sting a little to know that when the going gets tough, your friends abandon you like the waste of space you are?"

Buffy smiled sardonically. "We seem to have different memories of what went down. Didn't all of your supposed "friends" turn on you and leave you to die in that vortex a little while ago?"

"And yet, here I stand." Elton spread his arms out dramatically. "Back and better than ever. And in the interest of full disclosure, I guess I should inform you that I may have picked up an extra trick or two since last time we met. For instance-" He spun around, whipped his arm out and a shot of black lightning hit Xander and Anya as they were attempting to sneak up behind him. They were knocked to the ground instantly, and the black lightning took the form of a bubble around them, trapping them within a magical electric fence.

Elton wagged a chastising finger at them as they got to their feet from within their cell. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to interrupt someone when they're speaking?" He clicked his jaw and closed his fingers into a fist.

Buffy watched helplessly as, little by little, the lightning prison began to shrink around her friends. "Stop this. You aren't here for them, anyway. Just let them go and we'll talk."

Elton ignored her. "Now what do you suppose will happen to your friends when this barrier gets too small?"

As if on cue, a bolt of black lightning collapsed in on Anya, and she shrieked and fell to the ground with an audible thud. Xander dropped down next to her and held her to him as she began to violently convulse.

Elton sneered viciously. "Let's say I speed up the process a bi-"

But Elton didn't finish the thought. His head snapped back grotesquely when Spike took the opportunity to punch him in the jaw. He stumbled back a bit and looked at Spike with mock approval. "Not bad, vampire," he said, rubbing reflexively at his jaw. "That almost hurt."

Buffy seized the moment and rushed full speed at Elton, but he saw her coming. He threw up his arm just as she reached him, and she ricocheted off of him like bullets off of Superman, soaring through the air until she slammed into the lightning barrier. She felt herself being sucked in, almost as if she were being absorbed by Jell-O, but then she was through the barrier, falling to the ground beside Xander and Anya. She laid there for a moment, stunned and breathless, before struggling to get to her feet.

"Don't touch it!" Xander warned when she pulled back her fist to punch through the barrier. "It'll fry you."

Buffy looked down at Anya, who had stopped convulsing and lay unconscious. She could see the charred skin where the lightning had struck Anya's shoulder, and she tried not to wince. "I just went through that thing, Xan." Her mouth set in grim determination. "I'll be all right."

Xander sent her a dubious look as she reeled back once again to punch through the barrier. This time, she let loose, propelling her fist through the crackling spider webs only to be thrown backwards instantly. She raised her arm wearily and grimaced at the somewhat crispy state of her hand.

"Well, that didn't work," she grumbled irritably, and then a fresh wave of pain radiated through her hand.

Xander raised an eyebrow as if to say, "I told you so," but instead he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Nothing that a dozen shots of morphine won't fix," she ground out through deep breaths. "Must be one of those 'enter only' types of barriers."

"And you were expecting a barrier made completely out of dark magic lightning bolts to be, I dunno, easy to break through?"

"Sarcasm isn't helping any, Xander." Buffy rolled over and got to her knees, careful to avoid the jolting current. "At least it doesn't seem to be getting smaller anymore," she said, jerking her head to indicate the perimeter.

Xander nodded. "It stopped shrinking when Spike punched Elton." He flashed a phony smile and brightened. "Maybe, we'll be extra lucky and get another few minutes of peace and quiet before Elton pulverizes Spike and gets around to killing us."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "We need to get serious here, Xander. Because that's exactly what will happen if we don't think of something."

"And just what would you suggest we do, Buff?" Xander spread his arms out desperately. "There's no way out of here. I think you proved that a couple of minutes ago."

Buffy furrowed her brow and tilted her head, as something began to occur to her. "Maybe," she said at length, her eyes slowly meeting Xander's, "we don't need to get out."

"So I guess it's just you and me." Elton's tone was deceptively light. Playful, almost.

Spike wasn't fooled. He began a slow circle around Elton, sizing him up as he kept a wary eye on Buffy inside the lightning prison. "So it would seem," he replied, careful to keep his tone light as well. "Gotta say, a little surprised to see you, mate. And not just for the obvious reason. I mean, if it was me, and I got a second chance at life, don't think I'd waste it on revenge. Think I'd rather spend it doing everything in my power to avoid those who got me dead in the first place."

Elton's lips curved over his teeth in a sneer. "That's a lie."

Spike slowed and then smiled back, shrugging acquiescently. "Yeah, you got me, there. What can I say? A man's gotta try."

"You can try all you like, but it's not going to save you. Or your little friends." Elton held his palm up, and Spike watched as a ball of yellow light began to grow, spinning furiously in Elton's open palm. It reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. His eyes swept towards Buffy again, and he noted she still wasn't having much success escaping the magical cell. Okay. So Buffy was out of the game for now. He licked his lips. If he could just keep Elton talking …

"All right, mate. You got me fair and square. And I know you're just itching to hit me with whatever the hell that thing is," he gestured to the yellow ball, "but first, I need to know one thing: what about my case had you so interested?"

Elton cocked his head to the side and regarded Spike quizzically. "Just what the hell are you talking about?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "My case, the one that the Powers that Annoy were supposedly working on? I met your friend Whistler – real pain in the ass, by the way. Good on you for banishing him to New York. Anyway, he mentioned that you took an interest. Just was wondering what in that file would prompt you to start hell on earth."

Elton shrugged. "I had my reasons before then. Believe me." He started to toss the ball of light from one hand to the other. "Mostly, it just pissed me off, made me see the limitations of the Powers these days. They've lost their way, that much is obvious. Trying to turn the best of our kind into simpering ball-less lackeys for Team Humanity yet again. This earth has been theirs long enough," he ranted. "And now they think that you, of all people, should be redeemed?" He snorted derisively. "Please."

Spike nodded, placating. "With you on that one. Never wanted redemption. Still don't." He wiped at his brow, suddenly feeling warm.

"Even the concept of redemption is laughable," Elton went on, agitated. "We're demons, for fuck's sake. What the hell do we care about the eternal condition of our souls? They pollute the very nature of demons by extolling the so-called virtues of redemption. It's abhorrent."

He paused for a moment and eyed Spike critically. "I used to think that you would be the one to give our side a chance to take back what should have been ours."

"How's that?" Spike wiped at this forehead again. It was getting warmer by the second, and increasingly harder to concentrate.

Elton sighed. "Let's just say I saw it in a vision." The yellow ball of light levitated between his hands, and it began to spin again, gradually picking up speed. "Normally, I can only see the past in my visions, as I'm sure you've figured out. But the day I saw what that idiot Whistler was working on, I had a vision of the future – hell on earth, with you right in the middle of it. I thought it was a sign, that if I could just prevent Whistler from succeeding, I might be able to see the future again." Elton looked at Spike darkly. "Now I know better."

He spread his hands farther apart, and the yellow ball expanded in diameter. Spike threw an arm up to shield his eyes from the burn of its luminosity. Elton's smile was predatory. "Now I know I'm supposed to kill you." He reared back and launched the yellow ball.

Spike had a moment to brace for the impending impact before it was upon him – sharp white light that blinded, exploding against his shoulder with a pain that left him breathless – overwhelming and immobilizing. And suddenly he knew why that yellow ball had seemed so familiar.

"You like that?" Elton asked mildly, creating another ball of sunlight between his hands. "One of the witch's specialties. I tweaked the recipe a bit, but the effect's more or less the same." He hurled the next one, but Spike managed to dive out of the way just in time. "Just like bowling," Elton remarked, undaunted. "Only … fun."

Spike had just managed to avoid another blast of sunlight when the next shot caught him in the same shoulder that had been hit before. He hollered in agony, eyes snapping down to assess the damage. "Fuck," he breathed, as he stared at the baseball-shaped hole in his arm, the flesh charred at the edges. Sharp white bone peeked through the gaping wound, enough so that Spike could see that some had been incinerated.

Elton cleared his throat, and Spike looked up wearily to see at least a dozen more sunlight balls levitating around Elton. Elton glared at him, all traces of humor gone. "Just how many of these things to you think you can dodge now?"

And then they were heading towards him.

Tara heard the screaming first, and she tapped Giles on the shoulder, pointing towards the alley behind the Magic Box. Giles nodded in understanding and roughly turned the wheel to the right, the tires squealing in protest. They followed the alley down a ways until Tara caught the lights out of the corner of her eye. "There!" she yelled, pointing to the right again.

Giles accelerated, and the lights grew brighter. Eventually, Tara could see him – Elton, launching Willow's little balls of sunshine at something on the ground. Someone, she mentally corrected once they had gotten closer. Off to the side, she could see what appeared to be a lightning storm surrounding Buffy and Xander. Someone – Anya, it looked like – was collapsed on the ground, apparently unconscious.

Elton took a moratorium on hurling sunlight balls when the beam from the car's headlights swept over his face, and then Giles slammed into him. The impact sent Elton flying, and he landed with a crash in the dumpsters forty feet away.

"Quickly, we don't have much time!" Giles yelled as he brought the car to a stop, and Tara hopped out, chanting furiously. She almost tripped over Spike, the apparent victim of Elton's sunlight flinging. He looked up at her weakly, and she could see the toll the sunlight had taken. His skin was so riddled with char that it looked like he'd been playing in a fireplace.

Buffy was yelling something from within the confines of the lightning field, but Tara didn't have a chance to make out what it was before Elton hurled a dumpster at her. She ducked impulsively, and the dumpster slammed against the building behind her.

She saw Giles come at Elton with the axe, but Elton help up his hand and made a fist before Giles could reach him. The axe dropped uselessly to the ground as Giles grasped desperately at his own throat, seemingly choking.

Tara took a deep breath. She could feel the magic brewing inside of her, and when she felt it bloom brightest, she drew her arms back behind her head. It was now or never. "Haurire!" she yelled, and let go.

Elton looked down in surprise at the brownish glob of goo that had lodged itself onto his torso. But then the goo started to pulsate, and Tara smiled in relief when Elton dropped to his knees, clawing at the goo desperately.

Giles was bent over, hands on knees as he drew in several deep breaths, and he aimed an appreciative glance in her direction. She smiled back at him before bending down to check on Spike.

"What the hell did you throw at him?" Spike managed to rasp out, and Tara helped pull him up to a sitting position.

"Barnacle," she replied. "It's draining him. But it won't last long." She eyed him speculatively. "Do you think you can walk?"

Spike shrugged, and then winced when his shoulder barked in protest. She hauled him up by the other arm and steadied him when he nearly fell over.

"I'm not sure you can take another hit," she cautioned wearily as they slowly made their way over to the lightning prison.

He grunted. "Been through worse. I think," he replied. He studied her closely, noticed the pallid hue to her skin and the bloodshot eyes. "You don't look so good either."

Tara pressed her lips together. "The spell took a lot out of me. I'm not nearly as strong as Willow … was. I just hope I have enough left in me to get this barrier down before Elton breaks free from-"

Tara wasn't quite sure what happened next. She heard Giles yelling, saw Elton backhand him and knock him down. And then she was hurtling through the air. She crashed down to the ground and tumbled over, looking up just in time to see a dark blue fire catapult Spike backwards.

And then Elton was coming for her.

"He got free."

Xander cursed softly under his breath and got up to stand beside Buffy. Together, they watched as Elton knocked Giles aside as if he were a gnat and then proceeded towards Spike and Tara. And then Spike shoved Tara roughly aside, stepping in front of the blue fireball Elton sent in their direction. He was blown backwards, a blur of flame sailing into a building before crashing to the ground off to their right, motionless.

Buffy's sharp intake of breath was the only thing that betrayed the gravity of her emotions, and then she was yelling at Giles. Xander kept an eye on Tara, desperately deflecting everything that Elton threw at her, but even he could see she was tiring fast.

Behind him, Anya stirred, and he dropped down next to her. Her forehead crinkled, brows knit in pain, and she held her hand out to him. He took it in his own, lightly running his thumb along the curve of her wrist. "Did we win?" she asked thickly, and Xander smiled despite the situation.

"Buffy's working on it. Just rest, for now."

Anya shot him a look that suggested where he could shove that particular advice and sat up slowly. When she caught sight of Buffy, her eyes snapped back to Xander.

"Buffy's in here? Stuck in this deathtrap with us?"

Xander shrugged. "Hey, it's a hell of a lot safer in here than out there. Just ask Spike."

"How is being stuck in here 'working on it'? She should be out there kicking his ass with everyone else." She paused, and as an afterthought added, "Except for us, of course. I'd rather live."

Buffy sighed and turned to them. "You realize I can hear you, right?" Anya shrugged indifferently and Buffy rolled her eyes. "The least you two can do is help me get Giles' attention. Tara's not going to last much longer if we don't do something."

Xander nodded and stepped closer. "What's the plan?"

Giles had just located the axe again when he noticed Buffy, Xander, and Anya jumping around frenetically from within their confinement. He took a step towards them, eventually realizing they were trying to tell him something. He pointed to his ear and shook his head. "I can't hear you!"

Buffy stopped jumping and blew the bangs out of her face, frustrated. Then her eyes lit up, and she held up a "wait a minute" finger as she said a few words to Xander and Anya. Xander nodded after a moment and then Buffy turned back to him, holding up three fingers. Giles blinked at her. "Three?" he said, brows furrowed in confusion.

Buffy shook her head and re-emphasized the three fingers.

Giles held up his hands at a loss. "Three? Three what? I don't understand …" he trailed off, a dim memory of game night at the Summers' household re-surfacing. "Bloody Hell," he muttered. "Please don't tell me you're doing Charades?" he yelled to her.

Buffy nodded gleefully and put one finger on her nose while pointing at him with her other hand. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and waited until she held up her fingers again. "Three words," he said, and she held up one finger, "first word."

Giles watched as Buffy roughly shoved Xander to the ground. "Push?" Giles guessed, and Buffy nodded happily again as she held up the second finger and pointed to her right. He followed her line of sight and saw Elton, nearly on top of Tara. "Elton?" He looked back at Buffy for confirmation and she nodded holding up her third finger. "Third word … push Elton …" and then it was clear what she wanted him to do. "But … how?" he started to ask, and then Buffy raised an eyebrow, and he took off.

The car was still running when he reached it, hopping over the door and sliding behind the wheel. He laid the axe down in the passenger seat and stomped down on the accelerator. The car fish-tailed a little and then straightened out, the distance between him and Elton closing fast. Giles grit his teeth, made a few adjustments, and slammed into Elton just as he was about to grab Tara.

Buffy grabbed Xander and Anya and pulled them back to the edge of the barrier as Elton flew through the air and became lodged in the force field. "Come on, come on," she urged under her breath, watching as he was slowly pulled in.

Giles screeched to a stop just outside the barrier, and she could see him pick something up from the passenger seat. "Xander, Anya … duck!" she yelled as Giles flung the axe into the force field. It slid through the barrier like melted butter, wind milled over their heads, hit the lightning, and then boomeranged back towards them. Buffy held up her hand and caught the handle of the axe in mid-air just as Elton slid the rest of the way through the barrier. She swung, grit her teeth in satisfaction when she felt it hit the mark, and let go.

Elton sprung to his feet, the axe lodged at an angle in his back. He sneered at her. "Stupid girl. You think this is enough to stop me?" he asked, veins popping out angrily around his liquidy dark eyes, as he pulled the axe out and dropped it to the ground.

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "No. But I'm pretty sure 1000 volts is." And she kicked him hard in the stomach, deftly retrieved the axe from the ground, and stuck him in the gut with it, pushing him into the lightning. His eyes bulged in surprise, blacker than black, as Buffy held him in the lightning field, her hands firm on the axe handle. He convulsed for a few moments, sputtered out something that resembled "bitch", before closing his eyes and twitching one last time.

The lightning prison hadn't dissipated in the wake of Elton's death as Buffy had supposed it would, and it took Tara awhile to build up the strength needed to tear down the walls. While Tara worked on the chanting, Xander busied himself with tending to Anya. There wasn't much he could do about her shoulder now that it was starting to hurt in earnest, but he could hold her hand, brush kisses across her forehead, tell her everything was going to be all right now and that they would get through this together.

Buffy was pacing the perimeter of their shared cell, arms crossed over her chest as she cast furtive glances over to where he supposed Spike must be. He knew she was probably itching to ask them to check on him, but Tara was busy chanting and Giles was … well, Giles, and Xander wasn't sure Buffy trusted Giles not to stake Spike if given the opportunity. He smiled wryly. To say their little clan had severe trust issues was the understatement of the year.

An hour after Buffy killed Elton, Tara lay exhausted on the ground as the lightning began to break form and disperse into the atmosphere. Xander gently led Anya to Giles' car, now sporting an Elton-shaped dent in the fender, and put her in the passenger seat. "I'll be back in a sec," he told her with a quick kiss pressed to her forehead, and then he went over to find Buffy.

When they found Spike, the only indication he was alive at all was the absence of dust. Otherwise, Xander decided, Spike looked as close to dead as he'd ever see, and living on the Hellmouth, he'd seen a lot. Buffy didn't move to touch him at first, and Xander wondered if she was afraid he might disintegrate if she did. There were only a few spots left on his body with skin still attached, and fire had eaten away at most of his hair and clothes, so much so that all that remained were scorched tatters of material that barely hung together. The leather coat was destroyed, that was for sure. Xander idly wondered if Spike would be more pissed about that than the thrashing Elton inflicted. That was, of course, if Spike ever woke up.

Buffy flinched, and Xander moved to touch her shoulder. "Buff?"

She didn't seem to hear him, her eyes hazily staring at what remained of Spike. But then, she drew in a shaky breath and looked over at him, eyes imploring and voice so much like a child's as she pleaded with him. "Please, Xander. Please. Any other night, you can give me a hard time about him, but please. Not tonight. Not after … this. I need you to be my friend right now. Because I can't …," she trailed off and swallowed. "I need you to help me. I need you to-" and she broke off, doubling over, hands on her knees as she struggled to keep the anguish at bay, and Xander knew that this was it. This was the moment where he chose. This was when he could either support the woman who had shaped his life, the girl who re-defined courage on a regular basis, the one who had been through everything with him, saved his life more than once, or … he could throw it all away for a meaningless concept like pride.

He bent down next to Spike, gently rolling the vampire over so that he could pick him up more easily. And suddenly Tara was there, grabbing Spike's feet so Xander wouldn't have to carry him on his own. He flashed Tara a small smile, and she returned it, and together they brought Spike over to Giles' car, deposited him gently in the back seat, and climbed in beside him, daring Giles with their eyes to say anything. Buffy followed at a distance, looking more than a little lost, and after a moment, Giles went to go get her, throwing an arm around her and guiding her back to the car.

When they got back to the house, all hell was breaking loose yet again. Dawn was freaking out, apparently because Willow had started screaming over an hour ago and hadn't stopped since. Tara put an arm on Dawn's shoulder and told her it was fine, that Willow was fine, she just needed some time.

"Fine?" Dawn parroted back, and Xander recognized the crazy eyes. "Fine? That doesn't sound fine to me. She sounds like she's dying. I nearly called 911 like a billion times."

Tara took a deep breath. "It's the magic, Dawnie. Willow's magic died when Elton did, and her body is grieving the loss."

Dawn stilled, and a hand went to her mouth. "Her magic's … gone?"

Tara nodded solemnly and she glanced up the stairwell. "I should go. Be with her." She turned to Xander and eyed him steadily. "You should help Buffy."

Xander nodded, and she fluttered up the stairs.

Dawn grabbed him by the arm. "Is Buffy … is she okay?"

"She's in the car … she's fine. For the most part."

"And everyone else?"

Xander paused and let out a breath. "More or less. I have to take Anya to the hospital – she got a little burned. Buffy should probably go too, but I doubt she will." He eyed Dawn contemplatively before jerking his head in the direction of the car. "Come on. We'll probably need your help."

To her credit, Dawn only looked slightly sick at the state of Spike, and Xander couldn't help but feel a little wistful. Their little Dawnie had grown up so much during the past year, and he felt himself missing the wide-eyed innocent girl that knew nothing about keys or death or heartache. He watched as she led Buffy out of the car, past a dozing Anya, and up the walkway and into the house, murmuring sisterly words of reassurance in her ear.

Giles gave Xander a look, and Xander shook his head. "Not now," he warned wearily. "I think I'm done telling her what to do. I'm going to try letting her decide what's best, for once." Giles looked at him a little doubtfully, but Xander ignored him and opened the back door. Giles sighed, but helped him just the same, grabbing Spike's feet while Xander grasped him under the arms.

"Where to?" Xander asked Buffy once they had gotten through the door, almost as if he were moving a piece of furniture for her.

Buffy met his eyes found her voice for the first time since they had found Spike. "My room."

He nodded curtly, and he and Giles deposited Spike in Buffy's bed, made their way back downstairs, and bid Dawn and Buffy a good night.

Anya was still asleep in the passenger seat when he and Giles got back to the car, so he dropped Giles off at his apartment, promising to return his car in the morning.

Xander wasn't too surprised when the hospital wanted to keep Anya overnight for observation. Anya had been putting up a brave front, but he knew from experience with his construction job that electrical burns were no joke.

Once Anya had been led to her room and hooked up to the morphine machine, Xander took her by the hand. "I messed up," he began, and he could see the question in Anya's eyes so he waved her off before she could say anything. "No, I need to say this. Before you get too loopy and start thinking I'm the Easter Bunny or something."

Her expression darkened, and he laughed. "Sorry, sorry. Forgot for a minute." He took a deep breath and looked at her earnestly. "I need you to know that it was me. I messed up when … the wedding. Spike was right – I was afraid. I couldn't … I didn't know if things could work out, and I freaked and ran away."

"Like a little girl," she remarked mildly, and he ducked his head in amusement.

"Yes, like a little girl," he allowed. He trudged on. "But I also need you to know that I love you. That I have never been more certain after tonight that I will always love you. That I will spend the rest of my life pursuing you." He leaned close, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. "I want to marry you tomorrow, if you'll still have me," he whispered.

He broke away from her, gazed at her steadily as her eyes became suspiciously dewy. And then he kissed her, slow and sweet, until something in them ignited and he was forced to pull away before they violated some sort of hospital policy.

"Tomorrow then," he promised with a knowing smile, backing away slowly.

She favored him with a knowing smile of her own. "I haven't said yes, you know."

He shrugged. "Then I'll ask again tomorrow."

Dawn was buzzing around the kitchen, rearranging the spice cabinet, organizing the refrigerator, and dusting the knickknacks that lived above the kitchen window. Buffy smiled from her perch on the sofa, propping her head up on an elbow as she watched Dawn discover new tasks that just "had to be done" at 3 o'clock in the morning. She rolled her eyes when she caught Dawn eying the glass ashtrays their mom had bought on a whim at a garage sale speculatively. "Okay, Dawn, this is getting ridiculous," she called over. "We don't even smoke, and even if we did, I doubt we'd be worried about the cleanliness of the ashtrays."

Dawn looked up guiltily before placing them back on the counter gently. "I wasn't really thinking of cleaning them, just …" she trailed off, lost in a thought Buffy couldn't find.

"What then?" she asked Dawn. Then her expression darkened. "You're not … smoking, are you? Because I thought we had that talk like years ago."

Dawn shot her a look, and then Buffy realized what had compelled Dawn to pick up those ashtrays. "Oh," she said softly, inadvertently glancing up towards her room, once again hit with the reminder of what awaited her. She sighed heavily, and turned to the window behind her, gazing out into the night.

"Buffy," Dawn began, approaching her slowly, as if she were a skittish horse on the verge of bolting. "Buffy … can you tell me? What happened tonight? I would ask Tara, but she finally got Willow settled down and I don't want to mess with that." She took another step closer, and Buffy turned back to her wearily. "I mean, can you at least tell me if … if you're okay?"

Buffy looked down at the floor and shrugged. "As okay as always," she replied, smile strained, and Dawn shook her head impatiently.

"That's not an answer." She waited for something more, and when she didn't get it, she folded her arms around her chest haughtily. "What happened tonight, Buffy? Why is everyone shutting down and not talking to each other? What did Elton do to you guys?"

Buffy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It wasn't all Elton," she remarked distantly, her eyes returning to the window.

The headlights panning across the window and into their driveway stopped whatever question had been on Dawn's lips in its tracks, and together they went to the door, opening it to find Xander loaded up with a few brown paper shopping bags filled to the brim with Styrofoam containers.

"What-?" Buffy started to ask, but Xander brushed past her, dropping the brown bags onto the kitchen floor with a thud.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Those things were heavy." He shuffled his feet awkwardly until he finally brought his eyes up to meet Buffy's. "I bought out every butcher in Sunnydale. Pig's blood, cow, chicken – I didn't think it mattered what kind right now." He smiled a little. "The butcher on Main even had roadrunner blood. Roadrunner blood! Can you even believe what kind of town we live in if the butchers are stocking the blood of loveable yet diabolical cartoon characters?" He broke off, and his eyes flitted to Dawn and then back to Buffy, who still hadn't figured out what he was doing there.

"I asked Anya to marry me again," he continued. "Now, she hasn't exactly said yes, but to be honest, it doesn't matter. I'm still going to feel the way I do and I'm done running from how I feel." He looked pointedly at Buffy. "I think there's been enough of that." He took a deep breath and studied a spot on the floor. "I know I haven't been the most supportive friend these days. I've never liked Spike – in fact, when his dead ass is back on his feet again, I fully intend on expensing all of this." He gestured to the bags of blood. "But he saved Tara's life tonight. Just threw himself in front of that fireball without a second thought, and … I guess I need to give him a chance. Now, I'm never going to think anyone is good enough for you, Buffy. Certainly not Spike. But you need to do what makes you happy, and I need to learn how to trust you to know what that is."

Buffy couldn't keep the smile from spreading slowly across her face, and her eyes filled with joyful tears as she came to terms with Xander's heartfelt declaration. And suddenly, it was all too much, and she launched herself into Xander's arms. He yelped a little in surprise, and then he was wrapping his arms around her tightly. She let the tears fall freely, smiling against his shirt. No words passed between them; words seemed to get them in trouble most of the time, and there was nothing she could say that could remotely convey the depth of her adoration and gratitude.

Later, after Xander had gone home and Dawn had gone to bed, Buffy steeled herself one last time, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and filling it with some of the pig's blood Xander had brought over before heading up the stairs to her room. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, closing her eyes for a moment before she gathered the courage to look over at her bed. Spike still looked as wretched as he had before, burned almost beyond recognition, and her breath caught in her throat. That he hadn't dusted instantly after being hit with that fireball was a miracle - she'd never known most vampires to survive even the barest touch of fire against their skin. She smiled wryly. But Spike had always been the exception to the rule, hadn't he? With his sharp features that shouldn't be attractive and his cigarettes that shouldn't be appealing. She supposed she should stop being surprised when he inevitably proved her wrong.

She pushed herself off the door, taking the mug of blood over to the bedside table and placing it down. Her eyes wandered over to the curtains, and then she was closing them tightly, overlapping the material so there would be no gaps for the sunlight to filter through in the morning. And then gently, as if she were afraid the movement would jostle him and he would retroactively turn to dust, she crawled into bed next to him, laying on top of the covers and propping her head up on a pillow as she gazed at him steadily.

"I heard you're supposed to talk to people in comas … something about them hearing your voice and finding their way back," she began, voice a little shaky. "Not that this is a coma – I'm not really sure what this is. But I think you can hear me. At least, I hope you can."

She paused, licking her lips. "Xander was just here. He said to say hi. Well … no, he didn't, but he did bring back a year's supply of blood, so that's something. He said … he said that he'd try to be okay with us, which is miraculous considering he hates you almost as much as I used to." She smiled a little wistfully. "It makes it easier, that he's going to try. That they're all going to try … to understand. But after tonight, after I thought I'd lost you, I realized that all of that doesn't matter anymore. This last year … I was so broken. And you were the only one that I could talk to, joke with, just be with. I don't know how you did it, but you fixed me in a way no one else could, and I can't keep pretending that that didn't happen."

Her lip trembled just the slightest bit, and she leaned in close to him, whispering against his ear. "Spike? Can you hear me? I'm not afraid anymore. I know what I want, and I'm not afraid of what that means." She paused, taking another breath. "I'm not going to say I love you – I'm not that fixed yet – but I can say that you mean more to me than I ever thought possible, and I'm not ready for this to end yet. You need to wake up, Spike. You need to wake up."

To be concluded in the Epilogue, in about a week or two...