The smell of her blood made him sick. So sick that it made it difficult to think of anything else. It really was a blessing, painful as it was to see, that she was sleeping. She shouldn’t have to see him now.

Not when the monster was so close, so difficult to control.

He didn’t want her to see what he’d become.

As he held her, he noticed the change, and his heart was grieved as the cold she had driven away began to spread, widening its jaws to consume him.

Normally, she would have been light, but not now. Now she was heavy, because he knew that he was losing her.

His little bit of light. His only warmth…and he was losing her. The beast had taken her from him.

He was losing her. He could feel it, deep in his chest. It was heavy and cold, and that made her heavy. So much weight…

How can she be so heavy…?

“Daddy…” she mumbled as she burrowed into his chest. The slight pressure of her body against his brought back the time that he had spent in that Hell. And it was Hell, except for her.

She was his. She was the only thing that kept him sane in that place. She had been his protector, just as much as he was hers. He loved her for what she had done for him, for keeping the cold and the loneliness away. Now, when he had the chance to return her kindness, when he could protect her, he had failed her.

At one time, the silence within him, the coolness of his skin had calmed her. She would sleep peacefully against him, and her warmth kept the cold of madness away from him. Her warmth had soothed him when he held her close. But, now it only served to remind him of how long he’d been away from her, how much he’d let the cold control him, how far he’d fallen.

Yes, she was his. But now, she wasn’t. And he knew that he might never be able to have her again.

He looked down at her, as she lay in his arms, and saw the blood that was oozing from her split lip and her nose; the bruising under her eyes, no doubt from her fall against the railway ties, and he was grateful.

He was grateful, even though the cold was bearing down on him, making him barely able to feel anything now, that she wasn’t dead.

She could be dead.

Like I am.

As Spike gently carried her back to the little place that was their home now, he silently thanked whatever was protecting her that she was not dead. His heart ached with both joy and the numbing loss as he listened to his little Dove’s small, slow, steady breath and heartbeat. He didn’t know if he would have survived if she had died. But, at the same time, he knew that there were worse things than death.

He had lost the one thing precious to him. He had lost her trust. Her faith in him had died. He knew that she would never look at him with innocent eyes again.

He had killed her innocence…and that was a kind of living death.
******************************************************

“What did you do, Angel? What did you do to him?” her questions were cold and emotionless. She was tired, and the shock of it was just too much to take, “Why did you lie to me?” Buffy asked.

Liam winced. She refused to use his name, and he didn’t blame her. Still, he didn’t want to be that anymore.

He looked down at the white Formica tabletop as he sat in the tiny kitchenette, and he felt a wave of jealousy.

Her life is *normal. * She has a home, a husband, and a child. All the things I wanted for her…and she has them with him…not me.

“I didn’t lie,” Liam whispered, still looking at the tabletop, “I just didn’t…know.”

“No,” her voice shook with rage, as she watched him try to hide behind his human form; she would not let him do that- not to her- not now, “you knew, you just…you hoped it wasn’t true. Because if it were, that would mean that Spike was always more deserving of what you have…then you ever were. It would mean that you were always a monster.”


“Buffy…”

Buffy looked at his face as she sat across the table from him. He was the picture of guilt. But, she wasn’t sure if guilt was what Spike needed now, “What do you know about the amulet?”

“Nothing that will help. All I know is that it was meant for me…and when Spike wore it instead…his quintessence was changed…bonded to it, so that if it were destroyed….”

“Quintessence…?”

“The essence that all beings are made from. It’s supposed to be divine,” Liam explained, “People in the Middle Ages believed in it.”

“All beings?” Buffy asked, “Even…?”

Liam nodded, “Vampires,” he said grimly, his eyes downcast, seemingly fascinated by the white tabletop.

“All beings are divine? Would that mean that…?” Spike could have made it into Heaven after the Hellmouth. But the amulet…

Buffy had trouble catching her breath as the anger and the hurt rose in her chest again, trying to crowd out everything else, “And the amulet was made for you,” she whispered, “to keep you on a leash. But you didn’t wear it. Spike did,” suddenly she saw herself handing him the amulet; saw the awe that crossed his face when she called him her champion, and her heart broke, “What would that do to him?” she asked, afraid that she had harmed him, as much as, if not more than, Angel had.

“It could have done anything, Buffy. It could have driven him insane. I don’t know why it didn’t. What I saw there…” his eyes drifted up to hers, and he was shocked and surprised at what he saw. They’re not blue. They’re green…Why did I think they were blue…? “…It was chaotic,” he mumbled, “Nothing made any sense. The images were horrific. There was death…I saw him die, Buffy.”

I gave him the amulet, and now he’s gone. Oh, Homer, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…

“I did it. I killed him,” she said.

The soft tumbling of a latch interrupted her thoughts; the turn of a doorknob broke her heart. She felt his pain.

“Spike,” she whispered as she rushed to the door.
************************************************

The building on Jennings Street loomed closer. The closer he came to it, the shorter he knew his time with her was.

She didn’t need to see the monster, and Spike knew he could no longer control the beast. Something in him had died.

And he would not allow her to see what was left of him.

He cradled Jonina gently against him, shifting her weight slightly, not wishing to wake her from her sleep as he reached for the doorknob.

He didn’t want to let her go, but he knew he had to. She had to learn to fight, and he couldn’t teach her. Not when she didn’t trust him.

He didn’t even trust himself.

Nothing made any sense. At least there, he knew what to protect her from. He loved her so much that he would protect her from anything that would threaten her.

He just never dreamed he would be what she needed to be protected from.

He was numb as he stepped through the doorway. He heard her voice, calling out to him, pleading with him, but it hurt too much to respond. These were his last moments with Jonina. He couldn’t let anything distract him.

He had to remember her. She was the only thing that stood between him and the beast, and she was so small, too small.

He couldn’t put that on her shoulders.

He had to go away.