The first thing she felt was the pain in her chest. It was quickly relieved when she opened her mouth and inhaled. Breathe. She had to breathe. In and out. In and out.

Cold. It was cold and dark. Her slender fingers grasped for her surroundings.

Her fingers slid across the fabric that surrounded her. It was silky. Silk. It was silk. And she was cold, and it was dark, and she was afraid.

The fear began to claw at her. Digging into her fingertips, ripping the fabric. No. That was her. She was ripping the cloth, pushing against the solid object that lay just behind it.

It was wood, her brain registered. And she was clawing at it. Splinters slid under her fingernails. Her knuckles began to bleed.

Her brain remembered pain. It implored her to stop. But she couldn’t. She had to get out. So she clawed until the cold earth fell in on her and the sweet smell of soil filled her nostrils.

***

Buffy collapsed onto her lover, her body wracked with delicious spasms. She rested her head on his muscular chest and murmured, "I suppose I should patrol."

"That would require you to move, luv? Can you?"

She rose and yanked the pillow out from under his head. "Come with me."

"All right." Spike stretched languidly, a smirk playing across his chiseled face. "But only cuz you asked nice."

***

Xander was carrying Willow out of the cemetery with Tara and Anya following behind when Buffy & Spike came across them. They looked like beaten dogs. The witch looked the worst.

"Willow? What’s wrong?"

The redhead’s face was streaked with blood and she was barely conscious. "We tried. We tried to bring her back. It didn’t work. I don’t understand." She drifted back out of consciousness.

"Dawn," explained Xander, "She tried to bring back Dawn. But she wouldn’t come back."

Buffy was struck quiet. Spike though, knew exactly what had happened, "Did you think to check where you left her?" He spat before he bounded through the cemetery, with Buffy close at his heels.

***

Spike ripped the sod off of the grave and he and Buffy began to dig, desperately searching for their lost child. It was Buffy who grasped the girl’s hand as it pushed through the dirt, looking for the world above her. Spike pulled her from the ground.

Dawn was wild-eyed, feral, and understandably frightened. Buffy clung to her sister and soothed, "Its okay Dawnie. Its me, Buffy."

Xander and the others reached Dawn’s grave in time to see the reunion. "Dawn…" Xander attempted to approach but was stopped short by Spike. Who growled at the human’s approach and blocked the way with his lean body.

"Get out of the way, Spike."

"Leave ‘em alone. You’ve done quite enough."

"Who the hell, do you think…? You can’t hurt me anyway."

He attempted to pass the vampire when the Slayer stopped him with her voice, "I can."

Spike smirked at the whelp and scooped the girl into his arms. With a hostile glare at her four former friends, Buffy followed him home.

***

"Where am I?" Dawn asked with the voice of a child.

Buffy had her in the bathtub, cleaning the dirt off of her with a washcloth as if her sister was an infant. Dawn held her knees to her chest and her hair fell wildly across her face.

"You’re home now Dawn."

"Home?"

Buffy pulled her sister to her feet and wrapped a big fluffy towel around her. She supported Dawn as she stepped out of the bathtub. Buffy sat Dawnie down on the toilet seat and began to brush through her tangled hair with the tenderness of a mother.

"Where were you, Dawn? Can you talk about it?"

"It was warm and soft and good." Dawn crossed her arms and hugged herself. "I’m so cold, Buffy."

Buffy fought off the tears that were welling up in her green eyes.

There was a gentle rap on the door. Spike. Buffy cracked the door open and saw the concerned face of her lover. "I got some pajamas for the Nibblet."

Buffy murmured a thank you and silently dressed her sister, then put her to bed.

As Buffy tucked the covers up around Dawn’s chin, the shivering girl whispered, "Mom was there." Then Dawn closed her eyes as sleep over took her. Buffy choked back a sob and ran into Spike’s waiting arms.

***

Spike held Buffy as she cried herself to sleep. She had ranted a bit, about the Scoobies and what they had done, but mostly, she just sobbed. Big, uncontrollable, body wracking sobs. Then she drifted off and Spike was left with his thoughts.

"Spike?" A small voice asked from the doorway.

"Nibblet?" Spike tried not to wake Buffy as he rose to Dawn’s side. "What is it pet?"

She stood shivering in the hallway. "I’m cold."

Buffy’s sleepy voice answered from the bed, "You can sleep with us Dawnie."

The girl climbed in next to her sister.

Spike retreated to the kitchen for a mug of blood and whiskey.

***

Tara climbed out of her warm bed when she heard the rapping on her door. Willow was still sleeping like a baby and so Tara was quiet as she wrapped a blanket around herself and padded out to the door.

Spike stood there in the gray sky that cloaked Sunnydale just before sunrise.

"Spike. Its five o’clock in the morning."

He glared at her, his ice blue eyes piercing through her. "I trusted you." He growled, the rumble seeming all the more menacing in the pre-dawn quiet.

"Spike…"

"Does your little witch have any idea what she’s done? Do you?"

"We brought her back. Willow knew she could."

"And she didn’t stop to think once about whether she should. You know where Dawnie said she was?"

Tara shook her head and swept an errant piece of brown hair from her face.

"She said she was with her mother."

At this, Tara felt sick. Willow could do it. But she shouldn’t have. Now Spike was angry and there was no doubt that Buffy’s wrath would be double his. Willow’s attempt at reconciling the Scooby gang had gone horribly wrong.

"Tell Red that she snatched Dawnie right out of Heaven. Tell her." His voice rose with anger and he added, "And tell her to stay the hell away from my girls."

He stalked away into the last bits of night. She watched him go in silence and then Tara collapsed into the doorway. She sobbed until the sun rose.

***

Dawn stared blankly at the television as the swirling mad colors of the Saturday morning cartoons flew by. Buffy sat next to her, nervously tapping her foot.

When she woke up, she was alone. She hadn’t spent the night alone since she and Spike had returned to Sunnydale. Her first thought was of her absent lover. Then she remembered. Dawn. Dawn was back. She madly searched the house for her sister and found her calmly watching television. Buffy sat down next to her and waited for Spike to return. The sun would be up soon.

He crept in the door seconds before the sky began to glow with the sunrise. Sounding a bit like a jealous wife, she asked, "Where have you been?"

Spike cast a glance at Dawn and shook his head. It could wait. Buffy understood that. She knew him well enough to read every one of his movements and expressions. The look on his face showed that his thoughts were heavy.

She led him into the kitchen.

Spike’s shoulders were hunched over. His usual proud carriage was weighted down by recent developments. "How is she?"

Buffy answered with a shrug.

"Luv…" he softly demanded.

"She’s not really here. She’s not here at all."

"Who’s not here?" Dawn’s soft voice asked from the kitchen doorway.

Honesty was the only approach Spike could think of, "You’re not."

Dawn’s face remained expressionless. "I want to go back."

Buffy allowed the tears to run quietly down her face.

Her sister continued, "I hate it here. Its bright. Its loud. I hate it."

A sob escaped Buffy’s lips and Dawn turned toward the sound. "I’m sorry, Buffy."

***

"Dawn?" Buffy rapped heavily on the door. "I’d like to take a shower this morning."

Spike groggily entered the hallway. "What’s going on?"

Buffy shrugged and said with the faintest trace of a smile, "Two weeks back and she’s already a normal teenage girl. Won’t let anyone else have the bathroom."

Spike knocked against the heavy wooden door. "Nibblet? Come on now, your sis needs to get in there."

There was no answer. Only ominous silence. Spike tried the door. Locked. He pressed his shoulder against it and broke the frame with his weight. As soon as he saw the sight, he tried to keep Buffy from seeing it.

Dawn was fully dressed in the bath full of water. She lay lifeless in the crimson liquid.

But it was too late. Buffy saw the horrible tableau and her scream pierced the morning.

***

Buffy was beautiful in black. That was the only thought that Spike allowed himself. He refused to dwell on the loss of the only child he had ever had. He didn’t allow himself to grieve, he was simply there. There for Buffy. Her support. Her rock.

He watched impassively as she kicked off the black pumps that were caked with cemetery mud. She removed the silk stockings one at a time, rolling them down her thighs, calves and toes and then discarding them on the floor. She reached for the hook to release her funeral dress. She couldn’t reach it, and this set her on another crying jag.

"I’ve got it." Spike murmured, releasing the hook and sliding the dress down to her waist.

She turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into the safe nook where his shoulders and neck met.

"I love you." She whispered.

"Love you too, pet."

Her breath hitched when she pulled away from him. Her eyes were wet with tears.

Buffy’s nimble fingers worked the buttons of his shirt.

"Buffy…" he asked.

The Slayer caught the vampire’s lips in a urgent kiss. "Spike," she breathed into his mouth, "I need you."

Spike bathed her face in kisses. She tasted like salt, like sorrow.

Buffy held him tightly, the black lace of her bra itching his bare flesh. With a practiced move, he removed it.

He lowered her down on the bed and ran his fingers down her tender skin.

"Oh Spike," she whispered. "I need you so much."

***

He was worried about her. She had been on patrol for too long. Any number of things could have happened to her. So despite her protestations, he left the comfort of the Summers house to find her and join her on patrol.

Maybe it was grief that had made her careless. Maybe the vamp was more than she could handle. But there was no doubt what Spike found in the cemetery. His Buffy had another vampire’s fangs imbedded deep in her throat.

He staked him quickly. It must have been the grief that made Buffy so careless.

She was motionless on the ground. Spike took her in his arms and gently shook her, while his grief shook him.

"One breath, baby. That’s all I’m asking for."

He cried out in triumph when she obliged.

"Spike." Her voice was barely recognizable, "I’m…"

"Gonna be fine." He finished, "Everything’s gonna be fine, luv. You’re the Slayer. You’ll heal."

Even as he said this her eyes began to roll back. He was going to lose her too. Spike did the only thing his grief-addled brain could think of. He bit into his wrist, drawing borrowed blood, and pressed it to his lover’s lips.

***

"Buffy?" Spike called out to the empty house. He had meant to be there when she arose, but they were low on pig’s blood and he knew she’d be ravenous.

"Buffy?" he called again as he searched the house. She was gone. And he knew exactly where she’d gone. She was a creature of instincts now. When Dawn had died, his first instinct had been to kill those responsible. "Willow."

***

"Buffy?" Willow was genuinely surprised to see Buffy at her door.

"Can I come in?" Buffy asked.

"Of course." Willow gestured for Buffy to enter. Tara voiced a welcome for the Slayer and gestured for her to sit.

"How are you?" Willow asked.

"Actually," Buffy smiled "I’m better now."

"Good." Willow felt uneasy. Buffy was off somehow.

"I’m a little hungry," Buffy continued.

"I could get you something." Willow volunteered. "Pancakes?"

"Not what I had in mind." Buffy snarled at the witch in full vampire face.

The two witches screamed in terror.

***

Willow was clearly weakened when Spike arrived. He sailed past the doorway with an invite from Tara. The two witches had held their own against Buffy, but their magic was wearing out. It was up to him to hold her back. She was stronger than he expected, but she was more than a mere fledgling, she was the Slayer made immortal.

Tara ran to the Magic Box to search for an orb of Thesuleh. Willow had suggested that Giles order one, but they were rare.

"I have the soul restoration spell on my hard drive," Willow breathlessly explained. "I’ve done it before, for Angel." She retreated to her bedroom and her computer.

"You gonna let me turn out like him?" Buffy growled as she pulled against Spike, trying to break his restraint.

"Hush luv."

"Don’t do it, Spike. Let me keep my freedom. We could have such fun, you and I. I’ll take care of you, you know. I’ll never leave you. Think of it, you and I, together for eternity."

Spike fought to ignore her. "She’ll put you right, Buffy."

"She deserves to die, Spike. For what she did to Dawn."

Spike loosened his grip a bit.

"She deserves to feel the pain that Dawn did when that knife twisted in her gut. Of being pulled out of Heaven, of crawling out of her own grave, of slashing her wrists…"

Spike let go.

***

Spike destroyed the computer and all of Willow’s hard copy files while his mate fed. So that the spell could never be performed. Years later, Buffy informed Spike that Willow’s blood was by far the sweetest she had ever tasted.

By dawn, William the Bloody and his mate had left Sunnydale forever.