The reunion with Buffy’s friends was one thing he had been able to predict: they had been surprised, but happy to see him. He couldn’t remember any of it though, had passed the whole thing in a blur, his mind whirring. He had stood next to the metal contraption wearing Buffy’s face and hadn’t been able to take in a thing anyone said to him. Xander was overjoyed, he noticed idly, but apart from that, their words went unheard.

All he could think of was Spike’s words. That awful, awful revelation. He didn’t want to believe him, could almost convince himself it was some horrible prank on the part of the vampire. But then he had seen Dawn and had noticed that sadness in her eyes. The sort of sadness a fourteen-year-old should not have to carry around. He didn’t need to ask for confirmation – but something in him compelled him to do so.

“Is it true?” he got out huskily, cutting into their conversation and making them all fall silent. They knew what he was asking without him saying so and when he saw the fake cheer disappear, he knew that she was really gone.

“She’s dead,” he whispered, half to himself, shaking his head in disbelief, “God.”

He wasn’t sure what happened next, but Giles was there, guiding him through into the living room, talking to him in a low voice. He wasn’t listening though, too caught up in misery to listen to the sage advice of Buffy’s guardian.



“How did it happen?”

He couldn’t seem to stop the question being torn from his tight throat, even as he saw her friends’ faces fall, saw them struggle with their grief.

“Do you remember Glory?” Giles asked, taking his glasses off and polishing them, so obviously uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Yeah,” he choked out, “Demon. Really really strong demon.”

“Actually, hell god,” Xander spoke up, a tight smile stretched across his face.

The words seemed to echo in his head, not seeming to convert into anything meaningful.

“She wanted to get back to her dimension,”
Willow continued, giving him a tiny smile as she moved into the room, the Buffy robot safely tucked away somewhere, “And she wasn’t going to let anything get in her way.”

He saw Dawn fidget nervously and felt his heart go out to the teenager.

“Buffy tried to stop her,” Giles continued in a strained voice, “We all tried to stop her.”

There was a long pause and he looked around the group, locked in their own private misery as he brought these memories back. But he had to know.

“Did you stop her?” he asked.

Giles paused for a moment and then nodded sadly.

“Glory was defeated.”

“Then how…”

He couldn’t finish his sentence, couldn’t say those words.

“She jumped,” Dawn spoke up, her voice so tiny as she lifted her head to meet his gaze, “The portal had to be closed. So she jumped.”

“Dawnie,” he heard Tara whisper from beside her, but the teenager continued.

“She died because of me.”

Dawn bit back a sob as she met his eyes and then she hurried away, her footsteps echoing through the house and cutting through the long silence.



After a long time, Giles was speaking again and when he felt his eyes on him, Riley looked up quickly.

“I’m sure you’d want to rest after your journey.”

“I-“

“You can stay with me.”

He wanted to stay in Buffy’s house, if he was honest, but he nodded silently, accepting Giles’ offer.

“Okay.”

He found himself rising numbly to his feet, following the Watcher silently towards the door. It was then that a sudden realisation came to him and with a frown he stopped, turning back to Buffy’s friends.

“Where’s Joyce?”

A shadow passed over every face once more and his heart skipped a beat. Poor Dawn.

“The tumour?” he stammered out.

Willow nodded sadly, her arm linked in Tara’s.

“When?”

“Not long after you left.”

There was no menace in the redhead’s voice but those words cut him to the quick. He had walked out right in the middle of all of this. What might have been different if he had stayed? Would he have been able to help?



As he left the house with Giles, he paused, turning to look at the window of the bedroom that had once been Buffy’s. Where he had stayed so many times. Where he had held her in his arms. And where she would never be again. This home had lost its heart and its strength, leaving nothing but a scared, sad little girl. He felt for Dawn and made a silent promise to himself to do whatever he could to help her.

That was as far as his plans went for the moment though. He had come to town not entirely sure of the outcome – but never in a million years would he have expected this. Buffy was… gone. And Joyce too. It was too much to comprehend. Everything in him rebelled against the facts but denial was too weak to conquer. He had seen the look of despair in the faces of Buffy’s friends. He saw the lost look in Giles’ eyes as he led him into his house and showed him the guest bedroom. And, God, even Spike. Now he looked back on his earlier encounter with the vampire, he saw everything clearer – Spike, too, was suffering.

It was a blow to the stomach, feelings too real to be ignored. Buffy was gone, gone for months now. He lay down on the neatly-made guest bed and stared at the ceiling mindlessly, struggling to absorb everything he had learnt in the past few hours. Never had he imagined this.



He realised then what hadn’t occurred to him before – the reason behind the robot. He wasn’t sure whose idea it had been, who had created it - but he knew one thing: the Hellmouth was unguarded. No wonder there had been so many demons about. A robot could not compare to the real thing. He saw it now for what it was: a decoy. A clever one, really. After all, no-one but her friends really knew Buffy and all that mattered was that the demons saw what they thought was the Slayer.

It wasn’t enough though, even he could see that. The Hellmouth needed more than one robot keeping it safe – especially if Spike was determined to destroy it. He was half-tempted to call in a few favours and get a regiment sent here to help out. The other half of him, though, didn’t want to leave it to anyone else. He wanted to do something to help, if only it was by lending his muscles to the guarding of the Hellmouth. He owed that much to Buffy’s memory. He had walked away and maybe this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t. This was his penance of sorts – a chance for him to try to put something right.