OCTOBER 13, 2030- NEW ENGLAND-

“Joni! No!” the fear pulled him forward. He could see Joni, standing in the middle of the rift, the power making her glow like the sun. He saw Drake, high up on the bluff, miles above the rift, holding Mabel, with nothing beneath her but clouds and a black sky. Joni’s knees were buckling. The power was too much.

And Buffy…

His fingers bled as he tried to climb to them. He saw the energy slicing a golden path through the air, and into the Slayers forcing them to the ground.

Not again! Not now…Not again, please!

He struggled to reach the top of the rock face, the rift’s heat searing his face, his eyes. Drake’s eyes, glowing with a malicious and evil light, narrowed to knifepoints, spotting his enemy.

An evil Spike had never felt before, shook his chest, his fingers digging into the rock, trying to hold on under the onslaught of power. If he couldn’t save them, he would at least be a witness and swear with all that was in him, that Drake would pay for taking his girls from their mother.

“Choose, Spike!” Drake’s voice boomed, “Choose. You can’t save them all. One is your heart, one your soul, and your spirit. All are in danger. Which can you live without?” he sneered.

“None!” he spat his curse, “You hurt them, I’ll see you in Hell!”

“Really? Let’s find out.”
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NOVEMBER 1, 2030-

Spike slowly moved his head to the side and Buffy saw his eyes fall to his manacled left wrist, she winced a little as he tried to pull at the restraint and her heart sank when she heard him sigh. It was a sigh of comfort, not shock. And she hated hearing it.

She hated putting the chains into the wall. Hated that they were there at all. Hated watching Angel wrestle him to the floor after…

She felt the sting behind her eyes. No. I will not cry!

His eyes traveled to the right, followed the length of his outstretched arm, and pulled weakly at the chain. Buffy held her breath and wondered if the chain would hold. Angel was sure that it would, but she wasn’t. Spike smiled. There was relief. He was content. A matching set.

She hated it.

But, they might be needed now.

His gaze fell back to her, as she knelt beside him. A memory flashed and she was back in Sunnydale.

God, will it ever stop? He doesn’t know. And, when I tell him…

“Buffy,” he rasped out, voice weary from disuse, “Where’s Joni? I need to talk to her.”

Buffy shot a glance at both Angel and Willow. “Willow,” she hissed, “Tell me why.”

“It was the confrontation with Drake,” she breathed, exhausted, “It had to be. It triggered something.”

“Drake?” Buffy spat the name out as though it were poison, “He’d better be dead, that’s all I know!”

“He is,” Angel said, “I’ve seen to it.”

“Buffy,” Willow said, “Mabel’s safe. And, Drake is gone, thank God. But, there’s still the magic…Wolfram and Hart really knew what they were doing, and who they were after, all along.”

Angel bristled at the reminder, once again, that he was insignificant.

“But, I thought you said…”Buffy started.

Willow took a step forward, ready to defend herself, and interrupted, “I know what I said, Buffy,” she was clearly angry, and tired, her voice held just a little lunacy in it, a side-effect of her walkabout through his frenzied mind, “It’s elaborate, even for now. But, back then… I’ve never seen such powerful magic! Buffy, the amulet…”she shook her head in dismay, “There’s not much left, but what is there, is there to protect him. He’s strong, Buffy. He’s put himself in, like you did, after Glory took Dawn. I think his name is Homer,” she paused, giving a slight smile, “and does he ever hate me…not that he doesn’t have reason to, of course. Spike has always distrusted magic, and after the spell, and Lace, I don’t blame him. But, this is almost obsessive…”

“Something he does well,” Angel muttered under his breath, “He learned from me.”

“How much is gone?” Buffy asked, afraid to know the answer.

“Buffy, I can’t find anything after winter of 2005,” Willow told her.

“That long ago?” Buffy gasped.

“Yeah, I guess his memory’s been wiped,” Willow looked sidelong at Angel, “I’ve been trying to break through, plant suggestions about his life here. But, he won’t hear them. I’ve found what looks like an old memory, a memory of someone he cared about, I think, when he was human. It’s faded, so I think it’s older than he is, you know, since he became a vampire. Someone named…Oscar, I think,” Willow winced just thinking of the pain that surrounded that particular memory, “There’s a world of pain there. I could use it, but, I don’t think it would work the way I want it to, and, I don’t dare do any more. It would break him, Buffy. His mind…He might not make it.”

“Joni…” Spike muttered, oblivious to the conversation swirling around him.

“Oh, Willow!” Buffy almost sobbed, hearing that name.

“She’s the one thing I can’t break through. It’s like she’s embedded…”

“Like Dawn is, for me. When Glory had her, I couldn’t see past her. I protected her. Until…until I died. The end of the world.”

I don’t want to tell him again. His eyes…His eyes were so empty.

“…The last thing she’ll see is me, protecting her.” Her own voice screamed back at her. Now she was beginning to know the guilt that he had, so many years ago.

If I hadn’t sent them to seal that rift…this would never have…Oh, God!

“It makes sense, Buffy,” Angel offered, knowing that he would never live with the shame of what he had been made to believe, “Drake has been trying to rebuild the Home Office of Wolfram and Hart for years. Joni was just the start. If they could somehow prevent him from knowing…it would be as though they’d never shut down. It would be business as usual.”

Buffy threw her gaze at him, “Angel, if you can’t offer anything more than ancient history, I would get out of my sight, if I were you!”

Her glare was enough to push him against the wall. He would stay there, but he would not leave. If this is my punishment… He had to do something.

Buffy turned her attention back to Spike. If she couldn’t help him, she could at least make sure he had someone to hold on to. She reached to brush some of the matted hair from his forehead, and was amazed at how soft it was. “Spike,” she said softly, as she felt her heart leap in sorrow and sad hope when he shivered at her small touch. He knew her, and there seemed to be little, if any pain at the contact. His trembling seemed to be more from relief than pain or fear. He was better, or getting there, anyway, “Joni would want you to rest…”

“I know…”his voice trailed off, his brows furrowed, eyes looking at her with the sharpness she hadn’t seen in months; so long that it shocked her, seeing it, and she wondered if he knew, if she’d forgotten something. Part of her hoped so…she didn’t want to say it. As long as…she wouldn’t have to say it, make it real. But now… “Buffy,” he demanded, teeth clenched tight, jaw setting, pushing back the unknown, known, “what aren’t you telling me?”
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