He knew. When it happened, he knew, and Oscar hoped that it was the last time. He didn’t know if he could withstand the bond tearing again. He heard it calling, just as he had the first time.

He had thought that he was alone, until the witch put out the call that he was too injured to make.

November 1, 2022- New England-

Georgina looked up when she heard the door close. She had been so hopeful, there had to be someone who could get through to Spike. Joni needed him. She understood the devastation, she really did. But, he had to pull himself together, for Joni’s sake, if not his own.

She was still young. She needed her Daddy.

“Any change?” she asked, hopefully, as Willow sat down heavily at the kitchen table.

Willow sighed, shaking her head, “No. He won’t let me in, and honestly, I don’t blame him. He’s hated me ever since…” she swallowed, “Buffy got sick. Now, it’s gone beyond that. I tried…but…it’s like he just stopped. Joni even begged,” her voice cracked, breaking on her tears, “She tried everything she could think of. She gave him that little rabbit of hers,” Willow looked up at Georgina’s wide eyes, shining with her own sorrow, “The one she calls, ‘Spike.’ And, still nothing. I realize that he’s…” her voice trailed off as the tears, she couldn’t hide anymore, slid down her face, “…in mourning. I mean,” she whispered, “shutting down is maybe a good thing…no one would blame him if he…” she winced, knowing that silence * was* the better option if he wanted to save Joni, “went all ‘Big Bad.’ But, Joni really needs him. And, he needs her.”

“And, there’s no one else?”

“No. There can’t be. It was so loud,” she could still feel the pain, it was like a hole, an open wound in her spirit. She’d heard it. She still heard its echo, and his pain, and wished she could help. She wished she could do something to take it back. Her voice shuddered, as she spoke, “His scream couldn’t be any louder,” she locked eyes with Georgie, “No offence, but even you could have heard it.”

“I think I did,” Georgie whispered, her eyes clearly unfocused, “I hurt…down to my bones. And, it hasn’t gone away. I feel…” she shook her head, “I don’t know how…”

“I know,” Willow nodded, “You see? It may not have been vocal, but…” she sighed, defeated, “No, if there were anyone left to hear, I’m sure they would have heard it by now.”

Georgina looked down at her still untouched cup of coffee, as it grew colder and colder in her hands, and said, “Dru and Darla are gone. And Angel…” she shrugged her shoulders in defeat, “Maybe…he’s just *not * reaching out, anymore. I don’t know. Willow,” she looked up at her, “maybe you could try? Reach out for him? Joni needs him, and she’s all he has, now.”

It was that call, that cry for help, that had brought his little rabbit back to him, in a way. And in return, he would preserve this little miracle from anyone that would destroy it.

Even if the destroyer came in the form of his own, breathtakingly beautiful, daughter.

November 1, 2029- Los Angeles-

Today was bittersweet. William had been gone nearly two years now, and yet, there was still the Slayer. She would always be a link to him. A symbol of the hope he died to keep.

The hope that was quickly dying, in his cold heart.

Today was All Souls’ Day. And, Oscar could not help but be reminded of the legends. He’d spent years traveling the world, seeking the mystics and any and all others who possessed the knowledge he hoped would lead him back to Diana.

The knowledge he hoped William now had. The knowledge that would, finally, let him rest. Finally let him be with his beloved Elisabeth.

He deserved that much. He deserved to be at peace.

So, when one of those mystics sent out a call, two years ago, to him, he was, to say the least, surprised.

“Oscar!” the sound of a fist pounding on his door broke him from his reverie, “For God’s sake, Oscar, please let me in!” Willow’s voice cried, as her fists continued to pound.

Oscar got up, swiftly, and ran to the door. The dawn was approaching, and he knew that Willow would know not to disturb him, unless it was urgent.

He pulled the door open, careful to stay out of the waning night, and was met by Willow’s panic-stricken face. He knew that, if his heart had been able to beat, it would be hammering in his chest at the sight of her. Fear suddenly took hold. He’d seen that look on William’s face, so long ago, “Willow,” he said, warily, “what’s happened?”

“It’s Joni…” her eyes were wide with horror, “She’s gone…”

He hoped that he could convince Jonina, this time, that she really could save her father, in more ways than she knew.

But, little girls, sometimes, didn’t understand what they couldn’t see.

Leaning against the chain-link fence across from the small brick building that the Dustins called home, Oscar wept bittersweet tears at the rage that shook the rafters, and everyone, and everything around. And, that alone was enough to confirm what he knew was true.

Some day, Spike would make it possible for him to see Diana again. If he could only keep the little one’s grief from destroying everything, as it had so many times before; just as his grief had destroyed him.
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Buffy heard the roar, and her first thought was of Joni. She ran toward the stairs as fast as she could, hoping to find her at the top of the staircase, hoping she wasn’t seeing what she already knew, in her heart, she was seeing.

But, it was too late. Joni was staring at Spike, her eyes wide with shock, as she looked at him, in full game face, as he held Liam in his grasp. The sight was so shocking that even Buffy wanted to be anywhere but where she was.

She wanted to wipe the sight of Spike’s fangs in Liam’s throat from her mind. The sight rooted her to the spot, and made her dumb.

His fangs were bared.

She could see the blood on them, Liam’s blood. Human blood.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Nothing except a tiny voice, “Daddy?”

His world shattered into a thousand pieces. And, he struggled to push the monster back, and dropped the still breathing man like a rag doll, horrified at what he had done, and what she had seen. His eyes fastened on hers, and he was dazzled by the glistening horror he saw there.

His head was suddenly filled with sound. The sound of her frightened heart, as it beat within her tiny chest.

She was frightened- of him.

She was going to bolt.

It was then that his words, words he so wanted to take back at this moment, came back to him, “No, Sweetheart, even me. You see this face, or any like it, you run. And, you run fast.”

“Dove,” he whispered, pleading, even as his body shook with the terror of what he knew she’d seen, “Please…” he choked, “No…”

The last thing he saw was her pale yellow nightgown as she ran out into the night.
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