The abomination croaked and rasped, clawing hands into dusty rock.  It let itself drown in the persistence of memory, wallow in the consequence of a will that was bound now by three, yet through its prison's creation, liberated from the chains of all.

That which had been taken from it, that which it itself had destroyed.

Drusilla. 

Blood. 

The Scoobies. 

Sunnydale. 

Dawn.        

Buffy.

Love.

A cave's darkness smiled upon it, and on tattered strength it rose.  A demon's whisper surrounded the soul, the first words it was to hear.

"It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything."