As he parted from the group later that afternoon, he found himself wandering towards the university campus, caught up in his memories. Everything had seemed so simple at one time, but now he felt lost, lost like he’d never been before. Even after the Initiative had gone down, he had still had a mission, something to do. Now he had abandoned the mission and come back for Buffy – except Buffy wasn’t here. And God, that thought still didn’t want to settle into his mind as fact.

So what was he going to do with himself now? He knew he could go back to the Army, to his mission – but it felt like the easy way out. But what was there for him here in Sunnydale? He had grown apart from any friends still left here, the Initiative was gone without a trace and Buffy was gone. Buffy’s friends still struggled on though and it gave him an idea: what if he stayed here and helped them? He couldn’t lend much more than an extra pair of hands and an extensive knowledge of demons, but he was willing and able to fight.

And he needed something to do, something to preoccupy himself with. A little part of him also hoped that, by doing his bit to keep Buffy’s town safe, he might be able to make his peace. He might be able to come to terms with her death – and with his own departure just weeks before it had happened. There was nothing he could do to make up for that now – it was done, in the past – but he could work to make himself feel better about it. He could help her friends, who were so fatigued, so devoid of hope.



As night fell, he set out into the streets of Sunnydale, determined to make his mark once more. He had phoned Xander earlier and had discussed his idea, but Xander seemed to have no strong feelings either way. Without Buffy, everyone seemed to have slipped into being a paler version of their former selves. He strode through the darkening streets, confident, sure of himself. He was on the hunt - for demons, for peace of mind. If he could just get some action, he might be able to sleep better tonight.

He walked on through the town, turning through alleys and taking shortcuts as if he had never left. He strolled through a darkened alley, turned a corner, and came to a stop. Just up in front of him stood a forlorn, abandoned building – or so it seemed. From the outside, it looked just the same as every other old building on the street, but once you stepped inside, it revealed its secrets. A secret that had once been his, a long time ago now.

His skin itched with the closeness, as if it was an old drug that still held sway over him and then he turned his back on the building – only to be confronted with the image in his mind of Buffy’s horrified look. He felt a wave of anger sweep through him, quickly followed by shame, and he stumbled forward, desperate to get away from the scene of his undoing.



He collapsed against a wall just around the corner, resting his head against the wall, taking deep breaths. He had let himself forget about that place, about what he had done, but now his mind was swimming with images of Buffy’s face when she saw him in the darkness. And Spike right next to her – looking smug as ever. He shook his head, dashing the images to pieces and raising his head in determination. He couldn’t dwell on a past that he couldn’t change.

He moved on quickly, needing to get out of the town and into Sunnydale’s graveyards. He was still in a bit of a daze but as soon as he heard a telltale scream, he jerked his head up, the soldier taking over. He crept forward and pressed his back to the nearest tomb, scanning his surroundings and edging forward slowly. As he peered round the corner, he spotted the scrabbling couple up ahead and jerked back in surprise as the moonlight lit up the peroxide-blonde hair of the male.

The woman fell to the floor and Spike followed, grabbing her by the collar and lifting her to her feet, his fangs bared – visible in the moonlight even at this distance. After only a moment’s hesitation, Riley wrapped his hand around the stake in his front inside pocket and crept quietly and quickly toward the couple.



The woman kept struggling and managed to trip Spike, but he came at her again, determined in his attack. Narrowing his eyes, wondering how long Spike had been hiding this from Buffy’s friends, Riley crept closer, looking for his chance. As Spike fell to his knees, grabbing the woman by the hair, Riley took the opportunity and dashed forward, kicking Spike to the floor.

“What the bloody hell?!”

The vampire gave him a bewildered, angry look but before he had time to analyse it, he was being tackled to the ground by the woman – her golden eyes shining in the moonlight. She was a vampire! Silently damning his misjudgement, he struggling with the vampiress, trying to dislodge her from his chest.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Spike getting to his feet once more and for just a second, it looked like the vampire was going to abandon him. With a roll of his eyes though, the vampire stepped forward and grabbed the vampiress, drawing her off and sending her flying. She landed a few feet away but before she could even move, Spike was beside her, driving a stake into her back. She burst into dust with a cry and he straightened, tucking the stake away and shrugging his coat back into place.

Riley scrambled to his feet and brushed himself down, slightly embarrassed by being bested. Spike glanced back at him as he lit a cigarette and regarded him with a blank expression.

“You’re welcome.”

A moment later and the vampire was off, disappearing into the night and leaving Riley shaken – and somewhat annoyed.



He would never understand Spike, he realised as he moved on through the cemetery. The vampire was one big contradiction that went against everything he had ever learned about vampires. He had the usual traits but there was something about Spike that made him unique: at times, he seemed almost human. And now, Riley couldn’t think what to make of him. He was quieter, less cocky than ever and the way he held himself – everything was at odds with the brash vampire who had laughed in his face and mocked him for not being able to keep his girlfriend happy.

The truth was that Spike was, well, crushed. He didn’t want to admit it, because admitting it meant that Spike had actually felt something more for Buffy than just lust, obsession. It meant he could feel in ways a vampire shouldn’t. But you would have to be blind not to see that Spike was grieving – and even Riley couldn’t make himself that blind. He just couldn’t comprehend how anyone who had never been that close to her could feel her loss so much. More even than he could feel himself.