Disclaimer: Joss Whedon’s characters. Alas.
Having a bit of a computer crisis, so further chapters might take a few days!
 
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Spike had returned to his crypt, hoping to see Buffy there already. But when he emerged from the tunnel, his room was empty. He looked around and decided that he needed to do something about this place. He planned to leave it to his friend Clem. Clem wasn’t the tidiest of demons either, but Spike had nothing better to do at present, so he might as well get rid of some of the trash. He rummaged around, found a trash bag, and started picking up whiskey bottles and broken glass. He filled the bag, found another, and filled that too. These he left just inside the tunnel to deal with later. He washed his few dishes in the sink, picked up a few scattered t-shirts and jeans, and hung up his towel. He even made his bed. In going through his papers and such he carefully set aside what he needed for the rituals. Upon thinking about it, he added a pair of leather gloves. If he was going to be handling crucifixes and holy water, he probably could use some protection. Wouldn’t do any good to dust mid-spell. He lingered over a pile of poems he had written over the years. The last several were about Buffy. His poetry had not improved much over the decades, but he felt that the Slayer was the best material he had ever had to work with. The line ‘beautiful, deadly angel’ popped out at him from one of his verses. That’s her alright. He fought back the tightness in his chest and quickly shoved all the poems and papers into the bottom drawer of his dresser. Yeah, someone will find them. But I’ll be beyond caring at that point. Maybe someone will read them. Hell, Clem’s a demon – he might even like them, lord save us all.
 
He surveyed the room. Definitely improved. He went upstairs and gathered the bottles up there as well. He lugged them down and was putting them next to the others when he heard a voice say, “Wow, this place cleans up well!”
 
He felt a profound sense of relief as he turned around and saw Buffy standing there. “You’re back!” He had a hard time keeping the pleasure out of his voice at seeing her. Every moment of her presence was a gift, and those moments were rapidly running out.
 
“And you’d better watch your back,” she said unhappily. “The Scoobies noticed that the books had been disturbed. They’re worried that you might be trying to damn me to hell for all time or something.”
 
“What?” Spike said, confused. “Why the hell would I do that?”
 
“Beats me,” Buffy shrugged. “But we should probably work fast so you can get out of here.”
 
Spike stared at her. “What do you mean?”
 
“I mean that you need to leave Sunnydale,” said Buffy, moving closer to him and fixing him with her green eyes. “They’re never going to believe you or trust you, and they’re going to end up dusting you. I can’t live with that. You need to promise me you’re going to go away from here when I’m gone.”
 
Spike was touched at her concern, but still puzzled. “What about Dawn? And patrolling?”
 
Buffy looked down for a second, biting her lip. “You can’t help Dawn if you’re dust, Spike. You need to get away from the Scoobies until they calm down. I know you’ll find a way to find Dawn and take care of her. And if all else fails, Dawn will survive foster care for a while. But I don’t want you to die.” Her voice quavered a bit on the last sentence.
 
Spike was flabbergasted. She cared about him. Not just as a tool to use, but as a person. It mattered to her whether he lived or died. I’m sorry Slayer, but I just can’t keep on like this, without you… Swallowing he said, “I promise, the Scoobies will not dust me. I won’t let that happen.” I’ll go out by my own hand, with your name on my lips and your stake in my heart.
 
Buffy searched his eyes, feeling there was some meaning she was missing behind his reassuring words. But all she saw was concern and devotion. “I won’t ever forget you,” she said softly.
 
“Nor will I forget you,” he whispered back. He lay down on his bed, and she lay next to him. They entwined their hands as before, and spent a long time just looking at each other, with nothing more to be said.
 
************
 
Spike awoke with a start, realizing he must have dozed off at some point. He was relieved to find the ghostly form of the Slayer still beside him. “Hi,” she said quietly.
 
“Hey,” he responded. It was hell not to be able to touch her. He couldn’t imagine what she must be going through, being unable to interact with anything. “Are you ready to give this a go?”
 
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied. She found that now that she was relatively assured of returning to heaven, she was a bit sad to be leaving. Dawn was still out there, somewhere, with no family to care for her. Even more perplexing was the fact that she had enjoyed Spike’s company, and had felt secure and safe around him. His love for her, which she had denied as impossible for so long, was real and visible. His pain at her leaving, his selfless dedication to returning her to heaven, heedless of the cost to himself – it was all real. It was as real as the beating he had suffered at Glory’s hands on her behalf. This vampire had something in him that she hadn’t seen in Angel, or Riley, or even her friends. She almost wished she had more time to explore what it was, and how she felt about him in return.
 
Spike had put on his boots and his duster. He had filled his pockets with the notes and the stake. “I’ll need to get some more supplies. I think the best thing to do would be to do this in a church. There’s one over on Hillcrest that has a pretty small congregation. It’s likely to be empty on a weeknight.”
 
“Um, isn’t this going to be a little dangerous for you?” Buffy asked, concerned.
 
Spike held up the gloves. “I’ll take precautions.” He grabbed a few more things and then set off through the tunnels, with Buffy beside him.
 
“When you disappear, you can still hear me, right?” Spike asked.
 
“Yes. It’s you who can’t see me.”
 
“Ok,” Spike said as he continued down one passage then another. “So just in case you vanish again – I’m going to set up a ring of candles. I need you to stand in the center of it. You don’t want to leave there until the ritual ends, because then it might not work.”
 
“Stand in the center, got it,” Buffy assured him.
 
“I gotta warn you, I’m a little concerned that this is going to be a big dud,” he said. “I mean, it’s an ancient Christian ritual. I’m sort of, well…”
 
“A demon?” Buffy finished. “Unholy, unclean thing and all that?”
 
“Yeah, thanks,” Spike muttered. “But I figure if some of the crooked popes and bishops over the years could get away with baptizing and blessing and all that without being struck down by lightning then I guess one vampire trying to do the right thing might slip through.”
 
“Do your best, Spike,” Buffy said kindly. “I know you’re trying. Just do what you can.”
 
Spike took a deep breath, gratified by her faith in him. He reached a ladder heading up and climbed it. He came out through a small manhole in the basement of the old church. He moved from the small utility room into a larger space – the crypt level chapel. The seating down here consisted of chairs which were easily moved to the side to create an open area. He went upstairs to the sacristy and came down with an armful of fat white candles, which he arranged in a circle. He put on the gloves and came down again with a bible, a crucifix carefully balanced on top of the bible, and a censer. One more trip and he came down with a silver container of holy water and an aspergillum to sprinkle it with. Buffy watched all this with interest.I can’t believe he would handle all this stuff for me.
 
Spike had to force himself to keep making the preparations. Every candle he lit was like a dagger in his heart. He carefully sprinkled the ground with the holy water, hissing as some dripped down the handle and landed on his wrist below the glove. He placed it on a small table that he had set up to hold all the things he would need. He placed Buffy’s stake next to it for the second ritual.
 
Buffy’s eyes widened when she saw him linger over the stake for a moment before moving on to something else. He’s not… he wouldn’t kill himself, would he? She stood in the center of the circle, suddenly wondering if all this was the right thing to do.
 
*********
 
The four Scoobies had had a long day, given their lack of sleep. But they all seemed to get a second wind toward the end of the day, and had reconvened at the Magic Box to figure out what they should do about Spike.
 
“I’ve been rereading the spell,” Willow began. “I’m worried that Xander is on to something. If he does this ritual Buffy could never escape the hell dimension she’s in.”
 
“How can she escape it now?” Anya asked. “I mean, your resurrection spell failed. She’s stuck there either way, isn’t she?”
 
“Well, we might be able to find some way to make sure she goes to heaven or something,” explained Tara. “But if Spike does this spell, even if he’s being tricked into it, she may be suffering for eternity with no hope.”
 
“We’ve got to find him,” said Xander. “Can’t you guys do a locator spell?”
 
Willow nodded. “Good idea. I think we need to go and confront him once and for all.”
 
Tara and Willow got out the necessary materials and began the spell. The enchanted map revealed Spike’s location to be…”A church? He’s in a church?” Willow questioned.
 
“Could he be doing the spell already?” Tara asked.
 
“Let’s go find out,” said Xander, decisively. He led the way to the car with Anya bringing up the rear and locking the door.
 
************
 
At last, everything was ready for the ritual. Spike had walked around the circle three times waving the incense to purify the space. Buffy stood in the middle, arms wrapped around herself, slightly nervous about what was to come. Spike looked long and deeply into her eyes. Then he shook himself and said, “Ready, Buffy?”
 
Buffy nodded. “Thank you, so much. I don’t have the words to thank you for this.”
 
Spike fought against tears. “I love you, Buffy. Remember that.”
 
“I know,” she responded quietly.
 
He picked up the holy water and walked around the circle again, chanting in Latin. The words were a bit strange, given the age of the source. But he knew the general meaning well enough from his university days. “You have run the good race, you have fought the good fight. Go now to the place the angels have prepared for you.” He picked up the crucifix and held it high, gritting his teeth as the holy wood singed his skin, even through the glove. “Requiem in aeternum…” The Latin text went on as he circled, chanting.
 
After a time, a glow started to coalesce around Buffy. She slowly started to feel warm again. That blissful sea of warmth. She closed her eyes and spread her hands at her sides, feeling sensation after these days of nothingness. Bliss. Peace. Rest. She stood there, feeling the sensation get stronger and stronger, waiting for that final moment where time would fall away.
 
Spike was now chanting with tears running down his face as he saw her take on that beautiful, holy glow. So beautiful. Oh God, Slayer, don’t leave me. I love you…
 
The perfect moment was shattered at that point by the door slamming open and the Scoobies rushing down from the upper church. Xander took in the candles and the obvious ritual accoutrements, and the glow of white light, but saw nothing of the figure within the light. Without stopping, Xander charged through the circle, scattering candles and tackling Spike. They knocked into the table and the container of holy water spilled, hitting Spike full in the face. Spike screamed and vamped out as the entire left side of his face erupted into a steaming, blistering mass. As he rolled to get away from Xander he ended up on top of the crucifix, which began smoldering its way through his jeans. He tried shoving Xander off of him, making his chip fire unmercifully, causing him more agony. Willow started chanting some spell and Spike found himself frozen, unable to move. His left eye was blind, seared by the holy water. Tears ran down his face from his good eye as Xander knelt on top of him, pinning his arms and reaching for Buffy’s stake. I failed her again, oh God, again, Buffy I’m so sorry… He watched Xander rear back for the killing blow with a sense of utter despair in his heart.
 
Buffy had opened her eyes at the sound of the door opening. Am I going? What’s that sound? Then she saw with horror that Xander was on top of Spike. She heard his scream as he burned, and saw Xander reaching for the stake. Suddenly she realized that she couldn’t leave him. Heaven would give her no rest if she allowed this good man to suffer and die for her sake. Clinging for just one more second to the promised warmth of heaven, she stepped out of the circle and screamed “STOP!”
 
Xander’s arm paused at the top of its arc. He turned toward the sound, as did the others. It was Buffy, coming toward them from the center of the circle of candles. “Buffy?” he asked, disbelieving.
 
“Get the hell off of him!” Buffy yelled. Xander stood, confused as Buffy ran through him to kneel at Spike’s side. “Spike! It’s me. Stay with me, ok?”
 
“Failed…” he whispered. “Sorry…” Then he mercifully passed out from the pain.
 
“Spike!” she cried frantically. But the vampire did not respond. Buffy rose and turned to the others. “Why? Why did you do that?” she demanded.
 
“B..Buffy you’re… here,” stammered Tara.
 
“Yes, and I still want to know why you just attacked Spike?”
 
“But… he was trying to trap you in hell!” Willow said, utterly confounded.
 
“He was trying to send me back to Heaven, you idiots!” Buffy screamed. “He was doing a ritual to let me go back to being at peace, and you guys fucked it up!”
 
“Heaven?” Willow sputtered. “You were in Heaven? But how come you’re a ghost?”
 
“I don’t know!” Buffy yelled. “I was at peace. I was finished with all this. Then wham, I’m standing on my grave, and you guys were there and didn’t see me, and then these demon guys came through and you ran…”
 
“The spell,” Tara breathed, realizing what had happened.
 
“What spell?” Buffy cried, exasperated. “You guys have been referring to some spell since I got back. What the hell did you do?”
 
Willow spoke up in a shaky voice, “We, um, we tried to resurrect you.”
 
Buffy stopped cold. “You did this to me?” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “This hell of not being able to feel anything, of watching my sister suffer and not being able to do anything about it – that was all your doing?”
 
“Buffy, we thought you were in some hell dimension,” Willow began. “We were trying to rescue you…”
 
“Rescue me?” Buffy couldn’t believe these fools. “I died to save the freaking world. Why in the name of all that is holy would you think I was in hell?” The Scoobies all looked away. They hadn’t thought of it at all.
 
“We’ll talk about this later,” Buffy said, taking charge. “Right now, you are going to pick up Spike and bring him back to my house. Then you are going to figure out how to make me a person again.”
 
“What?” asked Xander. “What about Heaven?”
 
“Heaven’s going to have to wait until I sort some things out down here,” Buffy said decisively. “I remember what Heaven felt like. I will hold onto that feeling until the day I die. But there is a man right here…” she indicated Spike, “Who loves me, so completely and unselfishly, that he would send me back to Heaven rather than keep me here to suffer just to ease his own pain. And you are going to help me heal him, because I need him.”
 
The Scoobies had nothing to say to that. Xander and the others lifted Spike and struggled up the stairs and out to Xander’s car. Buffy wept to see the ruin of his face. Please let him be ok. Please let him heal. I need him to know that he didn’t fail me this time.
 
 
TBC