"Uh, Buffy..." Buffy heard the voice of Spike as she entered her home, turned back to him. Spike stood, framed at the threshold, just outside the front door. Hair a platinum mess, a cut by his eye still not fully healed after he'd faced Glory for her and Dawn, and he didn't see any of it. He just lifted his hand to her, as if to indicate the barrier that barred him from entry unless she invited in the vampire.

  "If you wanna just hand them over the threshold, I'll..." He began, but she cut him off.

  "Come in, Spike." Buffy said. He didn't move right away. Spike looked pleasantly surprised as he tested the invitation, his heavy leather boots thudding with his each step, as he took one slow step over the threshold, then another.

  "Presto. No barrier." He said in his usual cadance. He looked at her for a moment, wanted to thank her, to kiss her; he didn't. He wondered, what she must have been thinking, but he broke away first, before the answer could land. Better to act aloof, he told himself, better to be smug, and sarcastic, and charming, it was what got him through the decades thus far.

  "Um, won't bother with the small stuff. Couple of good axes should hold off Glory's mates while you take on the lady herself." He said. Right, all business. He thought to himself, that's what the slayer wanted, he thought as he opened the chest and began drawing out the weapons he thought would best be used.

  "We're not all gonna make it." He heard her say and stiffened, eyes searching for the right thing to say. He was meant to be good with words, he thought.

  "You know that." She went on, and he did. He knew. He'd made peace with it long before she had it would seem.

  "Yeah." He agreed and took a few more weapons from the chest, before walking back toward buffy. Swagger, confidence, he tried for confidence.

  "Hey. Always knew I'd go down fightin'." Spike said, he thought that often, it was why he fought so hard. Each fight, each desperate brawl, he accepted might be his last. It was how he'd managed to get such a wicked name and at first, it had suited him. At least, it had suited him, until...

  "I'm counting on you ... to protect her." Buffy, damn her, she always drew that side of him; the one that bled, and felt, always and too much. He felt it, the dead thing that was meant to be his heart, that never beat again - but ached - for her.

  "Till the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight." He promised.

  Spike hit the alley running, minions swarming at the edges of his vision. First one lunged—he ducked, rolled under the swipe, and drove a jagged piece of wood into its chest. He loved the crunch of it as the minion went down. But even through the fight, the dance, he couldn't stop his mind from being distracted: Dawn… where the hell was Dawn?

  Another minion came from the side. Spike twisted, elbowed it in the jaw, kicked it into a crate. And Buffy—Buffy’s out there alone somewhere, facing Glory… she’s gonna kill herself if I don't hurry and-

  He pushed the thought down, shook his head. No, that didn't help. No hesitation. Strike, dodge, strike. A claw nearly took his throat out. Spike spun, shoved a minion into another. Focus, Big Bad. Don’t get distracted. Can’t lose focus. Buffy’s counting on you… and Dawn…

  He leapt over a fallen minion, smashing another in the ribs with a pipe. They better not have touched her. They better not…

  The vampire's snarl rose out from his throat as he fought, Spike caught one of the minion's wrists mid-swing, twisted, sent it flying into the wall. Buffy… promised her, I promised... if anything happens to Dawn…

  He ducked another attack, rolled, and jabbed a minion in the throat. Keep it together, Spike. Think. One move at a time. And don’t… don’t show them you care too much… just…

  He kicked another one hard in the gut, swung at another, but there were too many. Spike spun, struck fast, elbow, knee, punch, taking out two at once. A claw missed his head by inches. Spike ducked, grabbed the minion, slammed it into a dumpster. Dawn… don’t let them touch her… Buffy, damn it, if she gets hurt…

  Another came from the side. Spike pivoted, back-kicked it, spun, drove a knee into its chest. I can’t… I can’t screw this up. Not for them. Not now.

  Spike fought, chest heaving, breathing ragged. Outwardly, cool as ever. Inwardly, a storm: Nobody’s touching my people today. Not a single one of these freaks. Not while I’m breathing.

  But the minions were pushing him back. Forced him, and the other miserable Scoobies, back behind a big pile of junk where they took refuge.

  "Has anyone noticed we're going backwards?" He heard the voice of Anya, still, Spike tried to find a way forward, some path, some way to leverage the battle better in their favour. He caught a brick for his troubles.

  "It's crossed my mind." He said, sarcasm a shield, because he couldn't stand the fact that he was forced back as the group of crazies stood between him and the stairs.

  "As long as ... Buffy can keep Glory down ... long enough, it doesn't matter." The over-the-hill-librarian panted, looking up at the tower. There was only a few minutes left to start the ritual. Dawn...

  "How we doing?" Spike heard the whelp, Xander, say. Anya supplied that it had so far been a tie...

  "We haven't got up to Dawn, but then neither has anyone else." Giles explained the state of things. But Spike, Spike was still gazing up...

  "Someone's up there." He barely managed to say, when he heard the voice of a particular witch in his head.

  "Spike. Can you hear me?" Willow's voice, in his head. He frowned, but answered - what the bleeding hell else was he to do?

  "Yeah, loud and clear." He answered, confusing the Scoobies. But, that was no great achievement; they were always confused.

  "Is there someone up there with Dawn?" Willow asked still speaking into his mind, and he focused, he used every bit of his senses to try and help, because if this was the one thing he could do - for Buffy, for Dawn - then maybe something good came out of his whole wicked existence.

  "Yeah, can't tell who." Spike said honestly. He wished he could tell her more, frustrated that he could not.

  "Are you talking to us?" It didn't help that Xander was going on, Spike was having a hard enough time trying to communicate with the voice in his head, as Willow and Spike coordinated, or tried to.

  "Get up there. Go now." Willow said, and he never trusted magic, he peered over the crazies and the minions that were still in their battle stance.

  "Yeah, but-" He tried to protest, there had to be a better way, he'd been fighting tooth and nail all this time, surely there was-

  "Go!" Damn it all! He steels his resolve and gets up from behind the barrier, the other slack-jawed Buffettes staring at him in surprise, as he charges out! He always knew he'd go down swinging... But the witches came through, after all. The entire crowd of minions and crazies suddenly parted before his eyes into two halves like the Red Sea. They all yelled in surprise, an unseen force shoving them aside as Spike ran through. No more hesitation now, the path made clear to the warrior, he reached the stairs and leapt up them without slowing, the vampire moving faster than any of the others could to get up the to the last level! Up, to the top of the tower, where Doc had produced a pocket-watch and looked at it as Dawn watched him fearfully.

  "Well. What do you know? It's just about that time." Doc said as Spike appeared behind him.

  "Spike!" Dawn shouted and Doc whirled around, to find Spike striding slowly forward. Dawn, she was scared. Don't let her be scared.

  "Doesn't a fella stay dead when you kill him?" Spike said with with a sniff, pacing closer, looking to find an opening, predatory eyes already scanning for ways to win the fight before it had even started.

  "Look who's talking." Doc said. Spike had to get him away from Dawnie, away from the little Bit. He promised. He had promised...

  "Come on, Doc. Let's you and me have a go." Spike taunted him.

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  "I ... do have a prior appointment" The monster said and tapped his knife against his hand. But Spike couldn't let himself be riled.

  "This won't take long." Spike said. Don't lose your head. Don't let him win.

  "No, I-I don't imagine it will." Doc answered and Spike didn't say more. Spike lunged, Doc sidestepped, Spike was about recover - too late! He felt Doc's hand close around his neck, then cold, blinding pain for a moment. A knife, thrust into Spike's back. He gasped - stupid habit, reaction, instinct, one he hadn't lost in over one hundred years of being undead - even when he didn't need to breathe. He heard Dawn gasp though, that brought him back. He stumbled between Dawn and Doc, the knife pulled out of Spike's back as he moved, the knife falling onto the floor of the platform.

  "You don't come near the girl, Doc." A pledge, a promise, a bloody oath he had made.

  "I don't smell a soul anywhere on you. Why do you even care?" The monster said. He didn't get it. Didn't understand; how a demon could love.

  "I made a promise to a lady." Spike said. Simple as that. He promised, he would keep his promise.

  "Oh?" Doc questioned and lashed out, his long tongue shooting out at Spike unexpectedly. Spike managed to duck aside, only to feel his feet swept out from under him, he was falling.

  "Then I'll send the lady your regrets." Doc taunted Spike as he grappled him, pinning Spike's arms to his sides, Spike faced with Dawn's horrified expression as he is about to be pushed over the edge

  "No." He gave Dawn an agonised look as Spike felt himself being pushed over. No, no! He couldn't let her get hurt! He grabbed hold of Doc as he felt his arms push him off the ledge, gripping for all he was worth, but his fingers slipped off as the monster kicked at him instead! Falling, he was falling.

  "Bloody-!" He snarled, managing only to change his trajectory, crashing against the beams that made up the tower. He clawed for them desperately, he couldn't fall, he couldn't abandon her... Blood, he realised, the vampire smelled blood - not his own. Dawn! Beaten down, but not defeated, he clung to the frame of the tower, and Spike began to climb.

  Up on the top of the tower, the monster began his sordid work. The knife of Doc cut a thin slash through both the material of the dress at Dawn's stomach and also her skin.

  "Shallow cuts... shallow cuts..." Doc said as he made another cut, not troubled how Dawn cried out in pain.

  Spike climbed, moving impossibly. He had to get back to her, he had to protect her. He promised. He promised...

  "Let the blood ... flow ... free" Doc said as blood began to drip over Dawn's dress, over her bare toes, right at the edge of the platform. Then, a hand, snapping up and grabbing hold of Doc by the ankle, pulling him over the end just as he had tried to throw Spike over merely moments before!

  "Dawn!" Spike snarled, climbing up onto the platform and rushing to Dawn, even as the screams of Doc are still faintly heard as he falls. But Dawn continued crying:

  "Spike, it hurts." She sobbed, Spike looked down at her, at her bloody feet.

  "I've got you Bit, you're going to be alright." He said and - hurt though he was - he broke the bindings that held her wrists in place. But her blood had spilt, a few drops of Dawn's blood dripped over the edge and there, in midair, the droplets met with something... A small circle of light, quickly growing, appeared there. Static, all across his skin, every hair standing on end, even as he broke the second binding. He knew what had happened, what had begun... He didn't care. Spike led Dawn limping across the platform to the tower entrance. He would get her out of there, he would get her somewhere safe, he told himself. But Dawn, she stopped, she turned, she looked back.

  "Go!" He roared at Dawn. Don't look at it. He thought, don't even think about it. Just protect Dawn.

  "Spike, it's started." She said, he took a breath, they both then turned. The portal... It hung there... And Spike? Spike could see the light.

  "I'm sorry." Dawn said tearfully. The portal, it grew ever larger. Huge bolts of lightning arched, opening enormous holes in the middle of the Sunnydale streets. Spike could hear the distant sound of people screaming as they ran away. A bolt of lightning hit a large building and burned it to a shell in an instant. The ground shook. Minions and allies alike fell to the ground. And the portal... It hung right at the precipice of the tower...

  "Don't be sorry, Bit." He said, tried to be tough for her, tried to guide her to limp on. But Dawn, Dawn tried to run past him, run toward the portal.

  "What - the bleeding hell - do you think you're doing!?" He ground out the words, catching her and spinning her to look at him.

  "Are you trying to get killed?!" He demanded of her, angry, worried, passionate in all things as Spike always had been.

  "I know... Spike, I know about the ritual." She stammered out. Spike looked at Dawn, then back at the portal. Dawn took that moment to try and explain.

  "I have to stop it." Dawn said to him, he'd always spoken to her like an adult, like a person, not just like a kid, he'd never cared that she was the key. He'd understand, she thought, he'd let her do this.

  "No." One word, final. He was breathing heavy... That portal, the lightning, the demons... it would destroy everything, but Dawn - he wouldn't let Dawn be hurt. As if the world felt the need to snap him out of his one single moment of valour the tower shook beneath them, making Dawn stumble, making Spike's hands reach out and hold her protectively to steady her.

  "I have to. Look at what's happening." Lightning crackled, looming large, even larger than before.

  "Spike, you have to let me go. Blood starts it, and until the blood stops flowing, it'll never stop. You know you have to let me. It has to have the blood." Dawn explained to him, and the vampire looked back at her. Really looked. He knew what he had to do.

  "Cause it's always got to be blood." He breathed. He knew that, he always knew, it always had to be blood. He hugged her tight, then, saw that unless the portal was closed, no one would be safe again. He took a steadying breath, one that rattled his ribs and made the wounds he'd gotten all through the fight, and the fall, ache like he'd gone a few rounds again with Glory. But it was nothing, nothing compared to what he was about to do. His jaw tightened, his arms held her, then they went light.

  "Sorry, Nibblet." He said, his voice losing that harsh edge for a moment, almost - almost - reminiscent of the days that he'd been alive as a Victorian gentleman. The days when he'd been soft, and let it show, in a way that Spike had told himself he'd never be any more. But a gentleman's word, was his bond.

  "It only hurts for a moment." He promised, then the gentleman was gone. Bones crunched, his face contorted as the features of the vampire came to the forefront and he sank his teeth into her, bit as gently as he could, pulling as little blood as he could risk. She'd be too weak to follow him. He knew, just how much blood to take, so that she'd survive this. Because he promised. He kissed Dawn's temple, let her down easy, then he turned. The black duster flared as he rushed, with all the strength that Spike had within him, rushing toward the end of the platform where Dawnie had been bled for the monster, as the man turned, and let himself fall. He tilted his head back, let his arms spread out, boots snapped together, as he looked like he were about to fall back into water rather than his certain demise.

  He fell instead into the portal and hung there, motionless. His fists clenched, his jaw ached, muscle jumping as he gritted his teeth and ground them as he willed himself to not growl from the pain.

  "I'll be a minute." Buffy had said, when Spike had gathered up the weapons, and had promised to protect Dawn, till the end of the world.

  "Yeah." He'd answered plainly, looking for the right words, watching her, as Buffy turned to go up the stairs. He had to tell her, he might not have had another chance, he had to...

  "I know you'll never love me." He blurted out. Stupid, stupid. He watched Buffy as she paused, halfway up the stairs, yet, she turned to look back, at Spike. She looked back at him...

  "I'm counting on you ... to protect her." Buffy, damn her, she always drew that side of him; the one that bled, and felt, always and too much. He felt it, the dead thing that was meant to be his heart, that never beat again - but ached - for her.

  "Till the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight." He promised. He knew, she'd never love him. It didn't matter. As he felt the pain, loving her, as he grit his teeth, as the pain did come, the snarl he wore was near to that of smiles.