December 21, 2027- LOS ANGELES-

Buffy’s breath caught at the sight of it. The little brick building on Jennings Street. It was just the same as when they’d left it, and her heart hurt looking at it. Inside the windows there was so much love and pain, so much of that, that it almost was a living thing. She hadn’t been here in years…not since…Spike had wanted to get as far away from the memories as he could and she hadn’t fought him. She wanted that too, to surround Joni with things that spoke of life not…If Spike knew that Joni had come back here, and that she’d allowed her to…

Buffy sighed. There was no going back now. The little cricket chirping inside her head told her, pleaded with her to stop, but she couldn’t. This was too important to Joni. If this worked, it wouldn’t matter if Spike was angry, and she knew he would be. It wouldn’t matter to her if he went crazy. Angel was there, and she’d help him through it. She owed him that much.

At least he’d be there.

She could save him.

She could save him, and then Joni would be whole again. She hadn’t been right since…

Spike had tried give back what that place had taken from her. And it worked. She had it all back. Well, not all, but enough.

No one should remember that place. Joni didn’t, and neither did Spike. His mind was like a sieve. Things went in but didn’t stay. It was slow at first. A forgotten word, a face, but now it was awful. And now Joni knew. She understood.

And there was no talking a Slayer out of anything.

Her daughter was so much like her.

Looking at her now though, she looked so much like him. So determined, so single-minded and stubborn. Angel’s words came back to her. ”He won’t stop, Buffy. He’ll never stop. He loves you too much to stop. “

Someone had to stop her. She blocked her daughter’s path, and hoped that she could reach her,“Did you know that he painted that room just for you? Did you see what he wrote? That was for you. He meant it, you know? He’ll love you forever, and so will I. Nothing can change that.”

“Mom,” Joni huffed, “we don’t have time for this. Willow said it had to be done here. You know I wouldn’t have left him otherwise. If he…” Joni looked down, overcome, the thought choked by the swell of emotion.

Buffy placed a hand on Joni’s shoulder, looking at her with shining eyes, “Baby,” she said thickly, “don’t you think I know that? But, if he lost you…?” Buffy shook her head. It was truly unthinkable. “Baby, that would kill him. Please,” she begged, “don’t do this.”

“I have to, Mom. I have to,” she said as she turned and walked away from her mother and went back to the place where it all began.
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DECEMBER 23, 2005-

If she weren’t so desperate, Buffy would have never let him in. She thought that Spike would have thrown him out the minute he saw Angel. She thought for sure, when he saw the rabbit…

But no, instead he’d clung to him, like something lost.

“Please, you have to help. What do I do?” Spike begged, his voice raw from the emotion that was choking him, “You were there. You know.”

“Yes, Spike,” Angel agreed, slowly pulling out of Spike’s desperate grasp and casting a glance into Joni’s darkened room, “I do know and I will help. But, it will mean losing her again,” Buffy saw Angel’s eyes darken ominously when he looked at her, and she wanted to scream. Just how much do we…does he have to lose? How much is enough? “…Can you do that?”

“Yes.” he said.

Just like that…and she was gone. So quickly, like a breath. Like he needed it. As though he couldn’t say anything else, as if he couldn’t see…

And Buffy’s soul burned within her chest. The fire choked her, and she remembered the taste of the heat and ash.

“Angel, how can you ask him that?” Buffy demanded, “Hasn’t he been through enough because of you? Isn’t one hell enough?”

Angel sighed, his head tilted slightly as he looked at her, and he smiled. No. That’s not a smile. That’s a smirk… And Buffy could feel her eyes widening at the sight. She heard Angel chuckling and a chill went up her spine. “And there it is,” he was saying, “Buffy, we don’t have time for this. You may not believe me. But, Spike does. He knows I’m telling the truth. He knows that this is the only way he can keep you. The only way he can be what he started becoming that day on the Hellmouth. The destiny that Wolfram and Hart knew they had to stop…”

Buffy shook her head, wanted to cover her ears. He wasn’t saying this. He wasn’t. Spike wasn’t standing there letting him say this, as if he couldn’t stop it…

The words echoed in her head. His voice. So sad and alone:

“It was all happening again, and I couldn’t stop it…”

“…You’ll have to help him. Can you do that?” Angel asked, “It could be bad. Very bad, worse than when I came back from…”

Buffy swallowed her fear, closed her eyes and put her hand out to stop his horrible words, “Yes,” she whispered, “I can do it.”

She sent out all her love to him through her eyes, and hoped that he could see that she could… “I can do it, Spike.”
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NOVEMBER 1, 2030-

The roar shook the walls of the little house. Buffy’s eyes stung and she wanted to clutch her ears, block out his cries, “Angelus, let me go! I’ll kill him! He touches her and I’ll kill him! I swear, I’ll rip his throat out!”

This was awful, watching him struggle. Angel had managed to take him down and get the manacles on him. He was safe now, at least physically.

“Spike,” Angel breathed, “I’m gonna back off now,” he said as he clambered up from the floor, “You rest.”

Angel turned and left the basement, and Buffy was left to drift on the sea of grief she saw in Spike’s eyes as she approached him. She knelt. He was searching her face, wanting her, needing her, like that night in Sunnydale, at the cave. She touched his face, moist with angry tears, and he leaned into her touch, “Buffy,” he pleaded softly, “please tell me…” his head rocked on the basement floor, desperate to deny Angel’s words, “…it’s not true. He’s lying! She’s not…” he stopped, the word, the thought, choking him, “…Joni’s not dead!” he hissed, the anguish dampening the heat of the hate in his voice, “Tell me our daughter is *not* dead!”

The tears burned her throat. This was her corner of his Hell. To have to say it, and see it kill him, over and over again… “Oh, Spike, if only I could!”