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by
With pain flaring through his skull and down his spine like white hot slivers of molten steel, Spike moaned and pushed himself up out of the blood soaked dust until he was balanced on his hands and knees. Nausea rolled through him for a brief horrifying moment as the world swam in and out of focus, but then his vision crystallized once more into preternaturally sharp edges.
Raising his head to look at the destruction surrounding him, Spike briefly wished that he *couldn't* see with demonic clarity. He had often dreamed, and tossed off to the idea, of the Slayer and her Scooby Gang lying scattered about the blood drenched earth in torn and broken bits and pieces, the horror and pain of their death etched forever on their cold still faces...but this, this was just...*wrong*.
Not just because he wasn't the one to have brought them so low.
No...it was wrong for so *many* reasons. Some logical, some not so logical. It was wrong because Spike had come to *know* these children and they deserved more...dignity in death, more respect.
They deserved to be cherished and honored by the one who took them down, but Glory...she held *everyone* in contempt. There was no grudging respect for a fallen enemy. No sense that she would even remember their names as the ones who had fought against her for so long and for so well.
And that was *wrong*.
In the deathly stillness of the pre-dawn evening, a pain filled moan of utter hopelessness and despair caressed his ears. For half a second, Spike felt as if that totally unexpected, but dearly welcomed sound had the power to make his long dead heart beat once again. Then, he rose shakily to his feet and stumbled off to locate the source.
Spike didn't even bat an eye at the scorched and bloody bodies of the Knights of Byzantium, but he couldn't help but stop, a wave of regret washing over him as he came across Giles. The ex- Watcher's body was already cold, his face twisted into a rictious of pain and suffering.
"Bloody Hell mate." He'd always known that the other Englishman would die an ugly death fighting the forces of darkness...but he never envisioned the man's corpse lying desolate in the dirt. Giles had always seemed too...proper and well bred for that. Ignoring his own pain, Spike knelt down quickly and reached out one cool pale hand. Gently, he ran his fingers over Giles' face, closing his eyes. It was the only dignity he could offer the man he had come to grudgingly call a friend.
Quickly standing back up, Spike hurried away. That soft agonizing moan had shifted into quiet sobs of wrenching heartbreak and loss.
He had to find the source of that sound.
Turning the corner of the old abandoned Gas Station that they had comfronted Glory in, Spike was faced with a sight that made him want to vomit up the meager contents of his stomach. As he looked at the two separate bonfires smoldering down to their last embers, the sickeningly sweet stench of burnt flesh washed over him from the thick smoke still hanging in the still air.
Two blackened and blistered corpses huddled, one on top of each pile of charcoaled wood. They were both disfigured beyond any recognition, their flesh burned off of their bones to the point that both sight and scent was useless to him. But Spike didn't need them to know who they had been. He had *seen* it happen at the time...and had been unable to stop it.
In a fit of perversity, Glory had decided to burn the two witches at the stake. She had said that it was tradition. "Suffer not a witch to live." Spike knew that no matter how long he walked the earth, he would never forget the sound of their screams as their flesh peeled and blackened from their bodies. That was something that would haunt his nightmares forever.
Staring at their charred corpses, Spike suddenly remembered Red baking him a plate of cookies in silent apology for one of her spells going wrong...and catching him up in it. He didn't even notice the soft whimper of loss and regret that escaped his own lips.
Thinking that if ripping his own eyes out would erase that sight from his memory he'd willingly claw his golden orbs out himself, Spike stumbled past the two smoldering piles of wood and flesh that had once been his friends. Turning the corner of the building once more, he found himself faced with more hideous and repulsive evidence of Glory's victory.
Buffy.
Unlike Giles and the witches, Buffy didn't technically leave a corpse behind. Spike was left to face only bits and pieces of flesh that could have belonged to no one else. A leather clad leg here. A slim golden arm there. A torn and shredded piece of skin with long flowing blonde hair caught and hanging from a low tree branch overhead. Glory had literally ripped the Slayer into pieces.
Dropping to his knees, Spike shuddered and convulsed with overwhelming shock and dread. Then, he threw up a gout of bright red blood as nausea tore threw him. Spasms and tremors wracked his body for long moments until he tipped back his head and howled his wretched misery to the uncaring sky, blood red tears streaming unnoticed down his cheeks.
Spike wasn't sure how long he knelt there mourning the death of the woman he had wanted to take as his mate and eternal lover...time had seemed to stop and lose all meaning and coherency. It could have been centuries...it could have been only moments. It didn't matter anyway, she was dead.
Gone.
He prayed that she was in Heaven, basking in her eternal reward...and not roasting in the depths of Hell for consorting with the demons she had been born to slay. However, if she *was* in Hell, he didn't want to know. He didn't want to carry the burden of knowing that she was suffering eternal torment for falling in love with Angel...and befriending and protecting himself.
That's when he realized that he could still hear those soft whimpers and sobbing moans. *Someone* out there somewhere was still alive. Still breathing. And Spike was determined to find whoever it was.
Pushing himself up to his feet once more, Spike haltingly made his way past the gruesome site of his ultimate agony. The sounds led him out towards the desert sands and a pile of rubble that had once been an outbuilding or storage shed. The closer he got to it, the easier it was to hear the source of those elusive and tantalizing sounds.
Sobbing, hitched breaths.
Whispered pleas and promises.
A steady, if fast, heartbeat.
Ignoring his own injuries and pain, Spike hurried over to the pile of shattered wood and metal. Leaning over it as best he could, he tried to figure out who was under it. A sliver of excitement and hope sizzled through him.
"Hello! Can you hear me?" His own voice echoed from the distant hills and a harsh cry of pain came from beneath the rubble, though no clear and understandable words issued forth. But it was enough.
Ruthlessly using his preternatural strength, Spike began to pull the pile of rubble apart. For what seemed like hours, he yanked off scraps of wood, stone and metal piping, scattering it behind him.
He dug down, using the soothing sound of that living heartbeat as a beacon. Then, finally, he uncovered a bit of flesh.
Cold dead flesh.
Confused and worried, Spike dug faster. When he finally uncovered enough to actually *see* who was under all of the mess, he found Anya and Xander. Or rather...the decapitated corpse of Anya lying overtop of her still living boyfriend's warm and injured body.
Spike grimaced. He could only imagine the mindbending torture of being buried alive with his girlfriend's headless body as his only company. Pity and sorrow for the young man he was excavating rose up in him.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Spike managed to move enough rubble to pull Xander out of his own grave. The young man was liberally coated in blood...some of it his own, and tears flowed endlessly down his stubbled cheeks. Almost as a reflex, Xander bent down and reached for Anya's body. Spike had to physically restrain him, pulling his away.
"She...she..." "I know pet, I know." "She...I would have been dead...she pushed me and then...and then..." Xander broke off with a horrified cry.
"I know pet. We have to go. Get to the car and *leave*. Now!" Xander strained towards the pile of rubble once again, even as Spike tightened his grip on the young man's arm and slowly dragged him towards the car that Ben...Glory, whatever...had driven here.
"Come on pet. Grieve *later*! We have to *go*. We'll...we'll go to L.A. We have to tell Angelus...My Sire will know what to do." For some reason, that seemed to snap Xander out of his horror induced desire to climb back into the grave he'd just been freed from. He turned haunted eyes on Spike, grief slowly giving way to hope.
"Angel?..." Spike felt a rush of relief wash through him so strongly that it almost buckled his knees. That was the one quality about the whelp that he had always respected. His ability to face the cruelest evil...and still find a reason to fight back. Even if it was only the slim chance to get revenge.
"Yeah pet. Angel. Now let's *go*." "The others?..." Spike didn't answer Xander's tentative and hope-filled question. He merely shook his head in the negative. Then he had to quickly reach out and catch Xander as his legs collapsed under him.
Pulling the dark haired man close to him, he gently lowered them both to the ground. Spike could hear Xander's heart start racing in painful loud thumps that reverberated through both of their chests.
The young man's breathing became fast and shallow, even as his skin suddenly became cool and clammy.
Shock. Xander had gone into full-fledged shock. While Spike could mentally understand this reaction to the devastation around them, he wasn't equipped physically or emotionally to deal with it. All he wanted to do was flee. To get to L.A. and cower in some dark corner of his Sire's home and try to feel safe and protected once again.
And it was just as strong an urge to make sure that Xander went with him, but why exactly, he wasn't sure. Maybe because this tradegy and loss had forged some bizarre connection between them.
Maybe because Xander was all Spike had left of his life in Sunnydale. Maybe because the boy would be living proof that all of this pain had actually happened and that Spike hadn't completely lost his mind and just imagined it.
"Come *on* whelp. We have to bloody well get *out* of here!" He began to pull at the young man's body, but Xander just began to shake violently, his dark eyes going almost comically wide as he pointed over Spike's shoulder. The sharp acrid tang of fear suddenly enveloped his nostrils, totally overwhelming the scent of death, destruction and sorrow. A ball of jagged ice forming in the pit of his stomach, Spike turned to look over his shoulder.
Glory stood highlighted against the night sky, one arm extended, her slim hand wrapped tightly around Dawn's neck, holding the crying girl upright. Fear the likes of which he had *never* known tore through Spike's mind and he whimpered, cringing back against Xander's body as they huddled together on the cold hard ground.
"Well, well, well. What have we here? Survivors?" Glory tipped back her beautiful face and laughed. Silently, in the hollow of his mind, Spike prayed that Ben would suddenly find the strength to push Glory back down into the prison of flesh that he was born to be. Even if the pain killed Spike or gutted his mind out, he would kill Ben...and Glory with him. Then they would all be safe.
But against Glory...a dark and twisted *God*, he could do nothing but tremble. But when have the Powers That Be ever answered the prayers of a soulless demon from the depths of Hell?
Then, Glory was looking at them, a speculative and amused look in her eyes.
"What to do with you two? Hmmm... Oh! I *know*, I'll reward you for all of your efforts at stopping me...and then somehow managing to survive my wrath. After all, that's *got* to be worth *something*.
Right?" Xander clutched at Spike tightly as he shifted backwards, his one free hand fumbling along the ground behind him. Spike could clearly hear the choked gasp of breath, "love you Dawn, please forgive me" and then Xander's body tensed up behind him as the young man rose up on his knees, took quick aim, and threw a long thin piece of metal as if it was a javelin. The dark haired man's aim was true and it flew with unerring accuracy straight towards Dawn's heart.
With a startled cry, Glory waved her free hand in the air and the piece of metal jerked to a halt in mid-air...mere inches from impaling Dawn Summers...and ending her life. Spike shuddered at the inner pain that it must have caused Xander to willfully try and end the life of the girl he considered to be a beloved sister.
It had been a desperate last gambit to stop Glory from destroy the world...*all* worlds. But it had failed. *They* had failed. Now...it was time to pay the price.
Glory, however, was not amused.
"Oh...little boy. You shall *pay* for that." Standing up tall, Glory held out her hand, a ball of glowing energy formed over her palm, pulsing and shimmering as it increased in size.
"I *curse* you for all eternity. A never-ending life to bask in the knowledge that you are forever mine. Forever dark. I curse you with the gifts and powers of your friends. Something from each of them...to remember them by." Spike's mind *screamed* at him to get up, to grab the whelp and *run*. To just *flee* and never ever look back. But he couldn't. His body refused to listen to him and he just sat there and shivered, huddled against Xander, whimpering and cowering before the mad Goddess of Death and Destruction. The Beast...in all her Glory.
"I bequeath you the strength of the Slayer, the knowledge of her Watcher, the power of the witch and the visions of her lover. And *your* beloved? I give to you the memories of 1000 years of vengeance...but not *hers*. I bequeath you the suffering of her victims." Glory smirked even as Spike shuddered at the implications of her curse.
"Imagine it...eternally trapped inside of an indestructible body with the knowledge and power of high-level magicks at your disposal...yet combined with a child-like mind filled with the memories of a millennia of agony and insanity." Glory smiled at them. Her pose and expression one of someone considering an idea...and finding it pleasing.
"Yes...that will do. A suitable reward for the man who would willingly destroy the Key in order to stop me." And then Glory threw the blazing ball of energy at them. Spike felt the displacement of air slam into him, knocking him over onto his back as the glowing energy connected with Xander's forehead. The young man screamed as if his skin was being peeled off of his body with a salt encrusted knife. Spike watched in terror as Xander jerked and thrashed in the grips of a pain-induced seizure, then collapse into welcoming oblivion.
As the last twitches and tremors faded from Xander's body, Spike looked over at Glory. Some morbid and dark part inside of him wanted to watch with open eyes when his end came. And he knew that end was now.
"And you my little vampire? Whatever shall I do with you?" Glory's smirk was back in place.
"I know. It's that chip of yours. Fascinating piece of technology...but it's not quite right. There's something missing. It's not...cruel enough to you. But I can fix that." Spike watched, entranced with his own demise as a second ball of burning energy began to form in the palm of Glory's hand.
"It's not really fair that you can't kill humans. After all, what else are they there for? Right? Still...I can't have you *happy* either...so I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to make it so you can kill all the humans that you want. However you want.
As long as you don't actually *feed* from them. Or anything else.
From now on, you won't be able to drink *any* blood. No humans, no animals...not even from a cup that someone else pours for you.
You try it and you'll experience pain that will make that chip seem like a fond memory. Of course, you *do* need to eat to survive...and I want you to suffer a *long* *long* time, so I *will* allow you to feed from one person. And *only* one person." Glory's grin became harsh and cruel.
"Him. The boy you were so set on rescuing. *That* will be your only food source for the rest of your existence. Bon appetite." And with that pronouncement, Glory threw the second ball of energy. It slammed into Spike's forehead and he knew nothing but mindbending, sanity dissolving *pain*. It felt as if he had swallowed the sun, burning and pulsing killer sunlight spilling through his very veins. Finally, mercy came in the form of unconsciousness.
And he knew no more.
#### With a groan, Spike felt awareness flood him once again. He ached. Everywhere. He imagined that this was what if felt like to be turned inside out and then right-side in once again. For a long moment, he wondered what he had done to deserve such a horrendous beating from Angelus...and then memory washed over him in a towering wave of skin-crawling awe.
Gasping out a cry of denial, Spike jerked up into a sitting position, gameface to the fore, pinpricks of agony sizzling through him.
Glancing around in his panic, Spike saw that Xander was already awake. The young man was sitting with his knees pulled up close to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, rocking back and forth, a lost look etched on his face, his dark eyes blank and glazed.
"It is time. Forever darkness. It is time. It is time. Forever darkness." Shivering in unholy terror at Tara's insane vision laced words pouring in a rush out of Xander's mouth, Spike turned away from the young man. Only to see Glory standing over Dawn's hollowed out corpse, flickering rainbow lightening in her hands. Then, right in front of the Demon Goddess a shimmering in the air coalesced into being, it's surface rippling. It was as if the desert heat waves had been made solid. The surface of a lake turned to molten glass.
With a high pitched laugh of triumph, Glory stepped into the Mystic Gate...and vanished.
"All is lost...forever darkness. Forever darkness." Another ripple began to form several hundred feet out across the desert. Spike was certain that it was another Mystic Gate. The borders and divisions between the Multi-Realms were coming undone. Soon, all of Heaven and all of Hell would be able to enter through the gates onto earth. Glory had won...and destroyed the universe in the process.
"Yeah pet. I gotta agree with you on that one. Forever darkness.
However...maybe all *isn't* lost. We have to get to Angelus. My Sire will know what to do. I mean, it takes one crazy fucker that tried to suck the world into Hell to stop another, right?" Xander didn't answer. Spike doubted if the dark haired man ever would again.
With one last shudder at the destruction that happened here...and for the destruction yet to come, Spike pushed himself up off of the ground. Then, with a gentleness he had never shown Xander before, he helped the young man to stand up. Clinging valiantly to his one last hope, Spike led Xander over to Ben's car.
They had to get to L.A.
Fast.
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