A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and thanks again to my beta, Immortal_Beloved.

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"What? That's it?" Dawn said, her voice getting higher and louder with each word. "You're just going to stake him?” Her eyes flew back and forth between Buffy and Spike. “You're just going to let her stake you?"

Dawn had been listening at the door to the basement, and had been ready to pounce when they came upstairs. She followed them to the kitchen, hot on their heels, voicing her protests the whole way.

"M'gonna be dust soon anyway,” Spike replied. “It’s the closest I'm gonna get to going down fighting." And if it was all going to be over, it was going to be by the hands of a Slayer, not some anonymous demon who for some reason had it in for him.

"But you're not fighting, you’re just giving up," Dawn told him, her eyes running sadly over the wounds still clear on his body.

"It's poison 'bit. The only cure isn't an option, so this is it." He leaned against the kitchen wall, putting his weight on it. The pain subsided when he stopped moving, but the heat was still there, a burning reminder in his chest.

Dawn was silent for a second, and then she spoke up again. "You can have some of my blood and some of Buffy's. Those monks said I'm made from her. If we give you enough each then you won't need to..." Her voice trailed off as her chest hitched in a sob.

To Buffy’s surprise, Spike protested to Dawn's idea before she could. "Can't do that 'bit. Aside from the fact it's too dangerous and that I'm not risking my sorry hide for yours, your blood is mystical. Who knows what you loosing that amount of blood could do. Don't want to be opening portals, not with that bint still around."

Dawn nodded, knowing there was no way she could argue. Instead, her eyes began to fill up. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Spike replied quickly, firmly, noticing the guilt that lay heavy in Dawn's eyes.

"But it is." She was trying to hold back the tears from falling freely, but it wasn’t working. Droplets trickled down her face, making her skin glisten.

"Dawnie, no, of course it isn't," Buffy said. She walked over to touch her in a reassuring gesture, but Dawn stepped back, barely looking at her sister.

"Glory wouldn't have taken you if it wasn't for me. She wouldn’t have tortured you, and you would have been strong enough to fight back when you were attacked. You were protecting me, and that's what it got you...It's all my fault." She sniffed, rubbing at her eyes and willing the tears not to fall.

Spike again jumped in before Buffy could, being the unlikely one to comfort Dawn.

He grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him. "It is *not* your fault. You didn't poison me. Someone else did. Likely would've still managed it if I weren’t in bad shape. That, or someone some other time would’ve. I've pissed off a good lot of people. Sooner or later something like this was going to happen. Wasn’t you’re fault, alright?" He kept his voice low and even, almost a demand over a reassurance.

He held her gaze evenly until she nodded eventually. He nodded back, squeezed her arm in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture, and then let go.

"Right then," he said as he turned his attention from Dawn to Buffy. "Grab your best stake, Slayer. Let's get this over with."

He moved to go out to the back porch, but Dawn stopped him, wrapping her arms around him gently, all too aware of his wounds. He tensed, uncomfortable, but forced himself to relax and pat her back.

"Thanks for everything, Spike. I'll miss you," she whispered to him, and he wasn't quite sure what he'd done to deserve it. He nodded though, and she let go, her eyes red and puffy from tears. Then with one last glance at him, she disappeared upstairs, not wanting to cry anymore in front of them.

He watched her go and listened to her loud footsteps on the stairs, a confused look on his face. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, he hadn’t really been expecting anyone to be upset over his dust.

Buffy’s friends had already showed they didn’t care, which was unsurprising, and he expected that Giles was secretly pleased, glad to get rid of another vampire that had showed interest in his precious Slayer. Buffy was all business on the matter, emotionless, and although he knew Drusilla and Angel would both get a pull and know he was gone, he was sure that neither of them would be that sad.

"I didn't realise how upset she'd get," Buffy murmured whilst trying to decipher the emotions on Spike's face. Her voice echoed his thoughts, stuck on the little girl who seemed to be the only one who would be affected by the end of his existence.

Years of murder and mayhem, and it would end with a teenage girl crying over his dust. It was too hard to comprehend.

"Me neither," he muttered, then shook his head, clearing the thoughts in it.

He gave her a small smile, turned and left the kitchen, limping as he did. The after-effects of Glory's torture were still evident and were worsening with the effects of the poison that had entered his system only a day later.

Buffy stood, watching the door after him. She tried to force her feet to move, but they were stuck in place.

Giles finally came up from the basement and informed her that the others had left already. "Do you want me to stay?" he asked.

Buffy shook her head slowly, eyes still on the door. "No, you can go. Thank you," she mumbled, lost in thought. She could see Spike's silhouette through the door, as he moved to the steps and sat down.

Giles laid a hand gently on her shoulder, pulling her attention away from the vampire. "Are you okay, Buffy?"

"Just thinking." She turned to look at him finally, drawing her eyes away from the door. "Spike's been trouble I haven't needed for years.” She took a deep breath. “He's annoying and a complete pain in the butt, but he... “She shook her head, knowing that going down that road wouldn't help her with what she was going to have to do.

"He has been some help recently. And with what he did for Dawn and you. It's rather surprising really. However, you are still the slayer, Buffy. And he is still just a vampire."

Buffy nodded slightly, and Giles gave her shoulder a squeeze then left. Her own voice echoed in her mind, as clear as the bruises on the vampire’s skin.

‘What you did, for me and Dawn. That was real. I won’t forget it.’

Ignoring it, Buffy muttered to herself, her voice firm. "Right.” She nodded. “Just a vampire."

She wondered if she kept saying it whether she could start to believe it.