Spike felt woozy. He was worried. And as much as he loved holding Buffy, having her close was only making him worry more. He knew that being here was putting her, and everyone he loved in danger. There had to be a way out.

The people beneath him weren’t even trying to keep their voices lowered, as apprehension played at the edge of his consciousness.

There was something familiar about the sick feeling that was settling in the pit of his stomach. It felt like the walls were closing in on him, like they did in that cell he was put into. It was almost as if…

Oh…No…

He could hear Rupert, too clearly. He was walking the edge of the shadow, and listening to the two people who were trying to keep Willow on the straight and narrow argue only reminded him what a balancing act that was. He’d been walking that edge for years. Sometimes the edge was so thin that all that one would need to do is…push and the balance was lost.

And, you could tumble into Hell without thinking.

Suddenly, cold fear clutched at him. The idea of leaving this solely in Willow’s hands was not comforting.

He may understand her struggle to overcome something very powerful that was now a part of her, but that didn’t mean he trusted Buffy’s well-being or sanity to her.

She meant too much to him for that. And, this had to work.

It would be stupid not to call on him for help.

Rupert…please calm down. Do you hear me, Watcher? Rupert, I need to know…where did the *thing * that had me go? Is it still here? I need to know. Please, Rupert! Please hear me! I need you…to protect her, and me. It’s the only way…I’ll come back, I promise. When it’s safe. I’m counting on you. Protect her…please?

Spike held Buffy tightly as he heard the argument rising, and he hoped he could break through.
*****************************************************************************

Giles could feel the anger choking him, “…And I don’t know why I entrusted an impressionable, fragile young woman to you!” he shouted, feeling the heat in his face rise, “If this is what you honestly believe then I…”

He flinched, stunned. Why did a haze of blue suddenly flood his vision? He tried to clear his head, tried to focus on Althenea’s flashing hazel gaze. The blue cleared in the center. He could see her now, but it seemed as though he were looking at her from inside a long tunnel. The blue haze was still at the edges of his sight.

Then came the shrieking, insistent quiet at the back of his mind. And suddenly, it was all painfully clear.

He understood.

Use the enemy’s strength. Use it to escape…

“Oh, good Lord …” he whispered, as he saw Althenea’s eyes flash with hate, and he watched her face twist in a grimace so old he didn’t know if he had the power to stop it, as she headed toward the small weapons’ chest the coven kept in the foyer and then ran up the stairs.

It’s still here…

He could only hope he had enough strength. There might be only seconds in which to act.
*****************************************************************************

KENYA- THE NEAR FUTURE-

The others had long since fallen into the slow rhythms of sleep. To everyone else the night was quiet, but not to him. To him, the night was full of noise, and regret.

Spike stared at the line of smoke that struggled up into the sky, trying to escape the fate of the dead fire, and he couldn’t help but feel the weight of it hit him again.

Panya’s stories help him forget, but he would never be able to escape it.

He’d shattered her. And everything that happened afterward was on his shoulders. Stories couldn’t change that. They wouldn’t change it, no matter how much he wanted them to.

He could still see the grief in her eyes, the shock, as what she saw became reality…and she watched him disappear.

The argument was rising to a crescendo. There wasn’t much time now. No time to think.

He pulled back to look into her eyes. He saw it all. How much she loved him. How much she cared. He could live on that sight, for years.

Confusion flitted across her face, “Spike, what’s going on?” she asked, worry making her tremble as her eyes jumped to the door, and the growing noise of voices beyond it.

She looked so lost, and he couldn’t have that.

“Buffy, there’s no time to explain…” his voice was a desperate, clanging whisper. Faster. Footsteps down the hall…

“…And, you’ll never know how much it means, or how much you’ve given me. I have to ask you for something.”

“Anything! Anything, Spike!” her voice cracked under the weight she saw in his eyes.

“Do exactly as I say,” his voice was gentle, but full of power, “Quickly now. There isn’t much time,” he said, his hand reaching up to caress her face.

Almost instinctively, Buffy knew what he wanted her to do. So, when his gentle hand brought her mouth to the flesh that covered his neck, covered his silent jugular, she knew what to do, and what to say.

She bit the flesh hard, and was surprised when she drew a tiny draught of his blood, “Mine,” she moaned, as the depth of his love sang to her, through her veins.

He moaned in response, holding her tighter. She didn’t take much. It was so small, but it was too much. And the noise outside, “Buffy,” he whispered fervently, “I love you! Please, never forget that. I will come back. Never doubt it. I will come back! I have to…”

The door crashing open. Rupert and Red along behind her.

And Nibblet. Poor Nibblet…

Althenea’s rage filled the room. It shook his bones, and left no question.

The Ukesolrill had found a way to survive, and fulfill its purpose.

“…I’ll show you that this is just another *beast * like all the rest!” Althenea roared as she charged into the room, her stake raised high, ready to deal the deathblow.

* Please, Rupert. You can do this. You have to do this…for her. *

Spike felt the electric charge thrum through him, setting his nerves on fire. If this didn’t work…

* Oh Buffy, I’m sorry. *

Spike gasped in shock at the pain of it. Pain, in the center of his back…

He can see her mouth, open in a silent scream as he’s falling into empty space. Blackness creeps in…and he wants to move. Wants to…hold her as she’s falling.

The colors are so bright here.

And he’s falling…into nothing. Breaking down. Crumbling to dust in her hands.

The desert wind blew cold around the embers of the fire, biting at his moist cheeks, making him feel…cold. So cold.

Spike could sense the shaman near. Of course he was. Mouse was never far behind him.

Still staring at the lonely embers, he spoke to his old friend, “It’s late, old man. You need your rest.”

“As do you,” Panya said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “And I am not old,” he teased as the sand shifted under his slight weight as he knelt beside his friend.

“You know I can’t,” Spike sighed, “Not when she…I’ve been everywhere, Mouse. Tibet…Greece, Afghanistan…India…even sodding Israel!” his voice broke in desperation, “And still nothing!” his eyes were the very picture of despair, as he begged his old friend, “You’re my last hope, Mouse. And hers, too. You’re my last hope of stopping this,” he closed his eyes as the pain of memory washed over him, “Of reaching her.”