TITLE: Darkest Before Dawn

AUTHOR: Nmissi

PART: 1/1

DISCLAIMER: I Nothing and No one. Especially not Spike. If I did,

what makes you think I'd share him with you?

DISTRIBUTION: Anybody, just credit me and let me know where it's

going.

RATING: PG13 for a teensy bit of language and some torture scenes.

SPOILERS: Crush, IWMTLY, The Body...Pretty much everything.

***WARNING: Semi-graphic description of torture***

Feedback: Please. Nmissi@aol.com

SUMMARY: The way the world would work if I wrote the Buffy-verse.

Darkest Before Dawn

"Oh, no no... I'm not making any more girls."

"Sure you are... here's your specs... You're gonna make her real good for me."

"Package for Buffy Summers," mused Giles, as he walked into

the training room.

She looked up from the medicine ball, pushing sweaty strands of blonde hair back behind her ears. She strode over to her Watcher.

"For me? Cool. Who's it from?"

"Hard to say. There's no return address."

He studied the small box in brown paper, turning it over in

his hands.

"Postmarked locally, however." He looked up in time to catch

the disappointment as it crossed Buffy's face.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"S'okay, Giles."

She gave him a reassuring smile.

"I'm not really expecting Riley to send me anything. Least, not at this late date. My birthday was a full three weeks ago. Nope- LATE birthday presents are as bad as NO birthday presents. Let's see who's not getting a thank- you note." She took the box from him, and looked at it for the first time.

"Hmm. Girly- writing, loopy. And who still uses Pink Ink?"

She tore it open.

Giles watched her from over the tops of his glasses. Two weeks, and still she hadn't cracked. He kept waiting, watching for it. Her mother was gone- her sister in danger. And still, she plugged on valiantly. Sooner or later, though, something would give way.

"Grief works its way in all of us," he thought sadly.

It was a gold box, the size for jewelry. It had been wrapped with a red ribbon, but the Brown paper mailing wrap had crushed the bow flat. Carefully Buffy peeled up the Bow, and tossed it into the trashcan. Then she tore the ribbon, and opened the box. Moving back the white cotton batting, she gasped.

"I think this is bad."

He felt the sting of her slap against his cheekbone, as he came to again.

"There, now- wakey-wakey, Rise and shine, Blondie! Thought you were supposed to be tougher than this."

She gave him a bright smile, and the hand that had slapped him gave a gentle caress to the other side of his face. Unfortunately she was caressing an open gash, so it hurt like hell. She reached her fingers into the wound, making him gasp in pain. The gasp hurt the lungs she'd so recently punctured, and he choked, blood spraying out between his lips. She stepped back, but not in time to avoid the splatter.

Her voice was deceptively sweet, concerned as she spoke to

him.

"Now just look what you've done to my dress."

She looked up at him, and the angelic visage contorted with rage.

"This was a VERSACE!"

"Yeah, well, it makes your ass look big." He responded thickly, between split lips..

She hit him in the face, and the world went dark once more.

"Buffy, tell me you're NOT thinking about going to rescue your evil stalker-guy from Glory."

Xander looked at her with astonishment. He'd been listening to her for the last few minutes, but it was just now sinking in, what she was telling him. Glory had Spike. And Buffy was actually thinking about trying to free him.

"Xander, will you hear me out?"

She looked from him, over to the rest of the gang. They were gathered together, around the big research table at the magic box. The usual books and papers were

absent from its surface, however. In the middle of it sat the mysterious box, with its awful contents.

"Buffy, how do you even know they're his?" Willow was all concern, her brow wrinkling. "I mean, couldn't they be, I don't know"

"Will, they're not exactly Lee Press-Ons. And they're bloody. They were ripped out, one by one. Now, I'm really REALLY not fond of Spike. But I'm even less fond of Glory."

She flipped her hair, turning towards the counter to face Giles.

"Besides. He knows about Dawn. What if he spills?"

"Buff, have you considered he may have `Spilled' already? I mean, if she's pulling out his fingernails, he might want to cut a deal. And he's probably not really happy with you right now."

The group took a second to consider Xander's point, and Willow looked down at her lap uncomfortably.

"Xan's right, Buff- The De-invite probably put him in a NASTY mood."

"Guys, Spike THINKS he's in love with me."

She looked pointedly at them as she continued.

"He's NOT- But he thinks he is. I don't think he thinks he can endear himself to me by selling out my little sister. And anyway- if he'd already told her she

wouldn't be sending me little presents in the mail, trying to get my

goat."

"Goat? What goat?" that was Anya, being shushed by Xander.

"She'd be over here, looking for Dawn, trying to open

whatever the hell Lock she fits into."

The object of these discourses herself sat on the counter, observing the discussion but not entering into it. She hadn't been herself since her mother died. A lot of the time, it was as if she weren't really there at all- She rarely spoke, she hardly ate, she had no opinions and cared about nothing. Buffy was talking about Grief counseling and therapists, but really- there just weren't counselors to deal with everything that was happening in Dawn's

life.

So for the time being, the focus was on Glory, on keeping Dawn safe- Her sanity they'd all deal with later, when they had ample time.

"Buffy, I cannot approve of this. Glory is too strong, you can't really hope to defeat her..."

"Giles, I can't risk that she'll get the truth out of

Spike."

Her watcher took off his glasses, rubbing them with a

handkerchief.

"Then I don't think a rescue mission is in order. I think

you should neutralize the danger yourself."

There was confusion amongst the group. What was Giles getting

at? Only Buffy understood. With a heavy heart, she nodded.

"I see your point. I don't know though, Giles. I don't know

if I can do that."

Giles put a finger under her chin, and lifted her face up.

"You must remember, Buffy- He's not human. He's chipped, yes- But he has no soul, no understanding of right and wrong. He's extremely dangerous, especially now, in light of his obsession. If the need to- Well, if it comes, you mustn't hesitate."

* All her fault. Bloody bitch. Made me love her, made me want to be "Good" for her. Made me willing to die for her. For her baby sister, for chrissakes. And she'll never miss me, never mourn me, never give a bloody damn what I did for her... *

"AAARRRGGGGGGHH!!!!" Screams pulled him from his inner dialogue. She was at it again, that Glory chippy. Dimly he was aware of her fingers, stroking his hair, soothing him, as her other hand cut him again, somewhere. It was hard to be precise about the location, since everything hurt. His torso was a mass of welts, weals, and wounds, which she kept reopening with a surgeon's precision.

"Sssh, it's okay, pretty boy. See? All done now. And just look at the pretty colors! All that blood! And who'da thunkit? Your insides don't look that different from a human's."

She cocked her head to one side, studying the large opening in his chest.

"'Course, it doesn't beat anymore." She reached down, and he could see her hand as it went INTO his chest.

"But it still feels all gooshy."

There was that screaming again, he thought- where was it coming from? She pulled her hand back out, and wiped the blood across his lips.

"Hungry, baby?"

She climbed onto the bed, on top of him, straddling his hips, and ground her hips against him in a painful parody of the act of love. She'd broken his pelvis yesterday, with the troll hammer.

"S'okay, honey. I know how hard all this is for you. Sssh.”

“Don't cry. Don't cry."

Her voice hardened.

"OKAY! Enough with the blubbering, now!"

She reached beneath her, and clawed open the flesh above his groin.

"You won't be much use to the Buffy-bim, now, if I do that just a leetle bit lower..."

She leaned over him, her lips warm against his cold ear. He'd lost so

much blood...

"Where ...Is... My....Key?"

From the depths of near-unconsciousness, Spike reared his head, and wound up his mouth.

"Fuck. You."

She brought her head down onto his forehead. Hard, but not quite hard enough to knock him back out.

"WHY! Why won't you tell me? I know you know. The Slayer has you guarding her back at every turn- she obviously trusts you. Is chivalry COMPLETELY dead? I mean, time was, a Damsel in Distress had her PICK of white knights just bendin' over Backwards to help a lady out."

She was raking her nails into his wounds again, this time the deep cuts on his cheekbones, where she'd gone looking yesterday to see if they were "real".

"Honestly. What's become of the men folk in this reality?"

She rested her head against his, their foreheads touching. She was sweating again, and the salt was burning him. He opened his eyes, meeting hers. She gave him a lascivious smile.

"I wonder"-

Unexpectedly she brought her lips to his, opening her mouth in a forceful kiss. At the same time, he was aware of a strange sensation- it was terribly bright, like sunlight all around him. And he felt lightheaded, dizzy. There was the disturbing feeling of something crawling inside his skull, rooting about, and searching...

She pulled back, ending the kiss, and the lightness was gone. He was disoriented, nauseated.

"What the hell?" She was looking at her fingers, and then he

saw it.

There, stuck to her hand. It was small, a fragment of metal and plastic. And it still had bits of his grey matter caked to its surface.

"You're just full of surprises, Blondie. What is it, a Bug?"

Her only answer was his mirthless, hopeless laughter.

"Buffy, I hope you know what you're doing."

This was Giles, the voice of reason. And she was ignoring him with both ears.

"I'm going to find her. And I'll take care of Spike before he can tell her."

"What'll you do if you're too late, and she already"-

She hung her head, "I dunno Giles. I really have no clue."

With that, she put her equipment bag into the back of Giles' car, and put out her hand. He obligingly dropped the keys into it.

"Do be careful, then." He gave her his best reassuring smile, and she returned it. Then she hugged him, and climbed into the driver's seat.

"Don't be a worrywart, Giles. I'm a big girl now."

As she drove off, he allowed himself to reflect on that for a moment. Yes, she was the "Adult" now, the grownup in the family. Losing Joyce was aging Buffy in all sorts of unpleasant ways.

Finding Glory hadn't been all that difficult.

"For a God, she sure hires stupid help," Buffy mused. The minions had been following her around town for weeks, and rather badly at that. Buffy just located one, and did a rather better job of Stealthy than he did- following him back to his mistress.

A high-rise luxury apartment on the nicer side of Sunnydale. It figured Glory would be high maintenance. Buffy knew the neighborhood; Dawn had babysat for a nice couple here last summer. A doctor and his lawyer wife. Very expensive real estate. Carefully, she followed Crusty-Minion into the building, and watched him get into the elevator. Then she watched the little lights above, to see what floors it stopped on. It stopped only once, on four. She raced up the

fire stairs.

Once on the fourth floor, she knew a moment's fear- there were so many doors, how would she know the right one? Thinking about the layout, the front of the building, she went with a hunch. Glory was a "god", right? So she'd feel entitled to the very best. She headed for the penthouse apartment, facing the street. It should be the one with the fabulous window she'd noticed from out

front.

She took a deep breath. She would have to break it down. If she was mistaken, she'd be spending the night down in lockup. But Luck, who'd had some serious "Let's fuck Buffy over" going on this month, decided at that moment to be kind. The door opened, and a minion backed out, bowing and scraping.

" Yes, your most fragrantly pleasing . I shall take him your message at once."

Buffy could hear the Bitch inside, ranting about something or other. The minion stepped back, and began walking down the hall. Buffy caught the edge of the door just before it could swing shut, and entered the apartment.

The living room was tasteful, dark woods and Queen Anne furnishings. Angel-type stuff, she reflected. She could hear Glory's voice in the bedroom, and she stopped to take off her shoes, so as to better tread silently across the hardwood.

"There, now, baby. C'mon, I didn't mean to play so rough."

Glory's voice was sultry, full of promise.

"Ah, yes, that's it. I need you, baby."

She was on the bed in the center of the room, just visible through the door. She was dressed in a red silk dress, and Buffy could make out a fine Prada sandal hanging off one side of the mattress. She began to feel she'd made a mistake. Maybe Glory worked out of an office someplace, and she'd happened in on a little off-hours hanky panky at home. She'd studied ancient history in high

school. She knew Gods led INTERESTING love lives.

"Bugger Off." came the less -than-gentlemanly reply.

"Sweet'ums. All I want is what's mine. Can't you see that?"

Buffy heard Spike hissing as Glory appeared to do something with his nether regions.

"And I need your help. I'm just a poor, little," She began punching his head in time with her words. "Helpless female without a friend in the world."

She sagged against him, spent. " I've got nobody else but you."

She changed her tone again, from little-girl lost back to siren.

"Whatever that Buffy-bimbo does for you- I can do it better. All I want is one teensy little thing. My key. You can tell me where she put it, Spikey.” “You know you can."

She was undulating on top of him now, writhing like a bitch in heat.

"Eww. ...Needy much?" thought Buffy.

The bed creaked, the chains on Spike rattled, as she bounced off the mattress and walked out of Buffy's view. The Slayer took that opportunity to slip in behind the door. Glory stepped away from a half-open closet and Buffy stepped into it beyond her line of sight.

Glory was back on the bed, apparently with whatever she'd taken from the closet.

" Thought you might be getting thirsty by now."

She looked down at her watch.

"Hmm. Tick tock- Yeah, we've been at this almost twenty hours now."

She gave him an appreciative grin.

"DAMN, I love a man with STAMINA!"

"Yeah, I can go twenty more, ya stupid bint."

His voice was harsh, strangled- short of breath, it sounded.

Buffy watched as Glory feigned concern.

"Here you are, lover."

She poured something into his mouth, and Buffy heard the

sizzle as well as the scream. Holy water. She was forcing him to

drink Holy Water.

"See, baby? Glory takes care of her man! Now you take care of

me and I'll make it all better. WHERE IS MY KEY?"

With a burnt, hollow voice, Spike answered her.

"Bite me."

Glory's scream of rage rattled the mirrors in on the walls.

"WHAT IS IT WITH YOU? WHY? Why won't you help me?"

"Eh, maybe its your charming disposition? Nah. I've helped Buffy and she's a bigger Bitch than you are. I guess it's your halitosis. I mean, really, Goddess- A few altoids every once in a while"-

She upended the holy water bottle over his chest, as he shrieked.

"TELL ME WHERE IT IS."

His strangled voice spoke up softly.

" I would rather die."

Glory sighed dramatically.

"If that's the way you want it."

She reached her hands back down to his chest, and the screaming started again.

"I've always wondered if that bit about removing the heart and cutting off the head would work."

Buffy watched in horror as Glory put her hands INSIDE Spike's chest, and pulled. The screaming finally stopped. Abruptly the living room door slammed shut. Glory let go, and looked annoyed.

"Hey! Keep it down, some of us are trying to WORK in here?"

Dawn walked into the bedroom.

"I think your work here is through."

"What is she doing here?," thought Buffy.

"Oh, Goody! Two for the price of one! I love a sale."

Glory squirmed upon the bed, running her hands along Spike's prone form. He twisted, in unconscious agony, and her hands came away bloody. She looked at them, the corners of her mouth twisted up into a grimace. "Eww." She climbed off him, and stood up, wiping her hands on Spike's duster. It was lying on a chair next to the bed.

"Step right up, little sister. You're gonna help me find my

key."

She tossed her head over her shoulder, indicating Spike chained up behind her.

"Big Sister's boyfriend was a leetle bit uncommunicative. But then, men always are, aren't they? The whole Mars- Venus thing. Communication issues aside, though, honey- for your sake, I really wish he had talked."

She began advancing on Dawn

"Cos now, I'm gonna have to get the info out of you."

She gave a disappointed pout.

"And you humans are so damned fragile!"

Glory seized Dawn by the hair roughly, pulling her over by

the footboard.

Quick as a flash, Dawn backhanded Glory, actually breaking

free long enough to step back several steps, across the room- just

out of the reach of the closet in which Buffy hid. She put her hand

into her jacket pocket-

" What's she doing? I can't see from here," thought

Buffy.

Glory laughed, a rich, throaty sound that sent chills down

the Slayer's spine. How strange that such a lovely sound could

hold such menace.

"Oh, you have GOT to be kidding! What're you gonna do with that? Hold up a toy store? C'mon babe- I'm a GOD! You actually think you can hurt me with a GUN?"

Dawn's voice is so clear, strong- like it hasn't been since before Mom died, thought Buffy to herself. And where the HELL did she get a Gun? She stepped out of the closet.

"Dawn, what are you doing? Where did you get that?"

Buffy tried to go to her, but suddenly Dawn swung the gun around on

HER.

"ExCUSE me! Interrupting, here!"

Glory glared at Buffy, and then turned her gaze back to Dawn.

"Go on, honey- the whole "threatening" thing. You're doing REAL nice! Points for effort." She gave Dawn a "thumbs up" and a smarmy grin.

Dawn backed up, away from them both, gun still out, and at the ready.

"It's okay, Buffy. I know what I'm doing."

To Glory she said, "So, You don't think I can hurt you with

this gun?"

" Well, Duh! Of course not, silly! I'm freaking IMMORTAL! But really though- It's cute. Makes me feel like I'm on TV or something! And don't you look just DARLING as a little thug? But Dawnie- You can't hurt me with a gun."

"No. But I can destroy something you want."

Realization entered the Buffy-brain- the slayer knew what Dawn had thought of.

"NO! Oh, God, Dawn, no, Please"-

"It's going to be all right, Buffy, Really, I promise. I know what I'm doing."

"What're you getting at, little girl?" Glory was suspicious.

"The monks. They wanted to make sure you'd never get the key. They sent it to my sister to protect it, to keep it safe from you. Did you ever wonder how they got her to agree to it? I mean, she's the Vampire Slayer. She's already got a Destiny. Her hands're kinda full. Not like she needed more stuff to do, y'know? So they made it so she HAD to protect it...would want to. With her life. They made it something she loved more than herself."

She smiled then, and watched as comprehension came over Glory like a thunderhead.

" They made it into me."

With that, Dawn put the pistol into her mouth and blew the back off of her head, as Glory and Buffy both screamed. The body went limp on the floor. Blood was everywhere. Buffy threw herself onto Dawn, feeling frantically for a pulse.

"Dawn? DAWN? Oh, God, Please-" She wept distractedly, pulling her sister's body close to her. There was blood, so much blood-She raised her head, and caught sight of the hand draped down over the side of the bed. More blood- at the ends of all five fingers, nothing but blood. The room was swimming in its copper scent.

She looked back down. Somewhere in the room, Glory was screaming, and trashing- But all Buffy could see was her sweet baby sister, fourteen years old, her face a mess of blood and hair. Not the KEY, not some powerful pawn in yet ANOTHER battle between good and evil- only her baby sister, the last family she had left. And for a few moments, the room lost reality for her, giving way to memories.

"Buffy, Bwaid my hair."

"Why can't I play too?!"

"You gonna finish that?"

"I didn't take your stupid sweater!"

"Big square building filled with boredom and despair."

"-doesn't treat me like an Alien"

She looked back up. Spike. Spike was on the bed, all cut up and maybe dying. For Dawn. God, that was a laugh. A sick, cynical Joke. She'd come here to kill Spike to protect Dawn- And Spike had pretty much let the Bitch-god kill him, rather than betray her. And Penultimate Cosmic Irony- Dawn had given up her secret all by herself. And in the end, neither Spike nor Buffy had been able to

protect her.

Maybe he really did care after all.

Maybe it really was love.

Suddenly, it became very important to her that Spike survived. She pulled herself up out of the floor, and went back to the bed.

God, he was a mess. Fortunately he was still unconscious. Buffy found herself tearing up the bed sheet to make bandages. She WOULD save him; she would get him out of here. This time, at least, This Person Who Loved Buffy would not Die.

"When did Spike become a Person to me?" She wondered.

In the next room, she could still hear Glory- the sounds of glass breaking, furniture overturning, and Really Impressive Cursing.

"Ignore it." Said the Buffy-brain, on autopilot, so, She did.

Focus. Focus. Close up the gaping hole over the heart. Wrap it up tight, so it'll heal together.

Behind her, she heard Glory enter the room, and so she turned

to face her.

Glory, demigod from the Bitch dimension, stood in the doorway

crying.

"All I wanted was my key, dammit! I just wanted to get the FUCK out of here!"

She advanced on Buffy.

"Do you think I LIKE this PLANE? You and your SMELLY, SWEATY, DRIPPY mortal coil?"

She reached for Buffy, who instinctively tried to shield Spike from the impending blow.

Then something Very Odd happened. The delicate-looking arm, which had been poised to strike her, shifted blurrily into something hairier, more muscular. Buffy followed it up to the neck, where she was only vaguely surprised to see Ben's face.

"Okay. I know what this is. I'm in shock."

The autopilot supplied this information helpfully. Taking that information under advisement, she then was not shocked to see that Ben was also wearing Glory's blood splattered silk dress.

"Shit," said the nice man in the bloody dress. "Buffy? Buffy, c'mon, snap out of it."

He slapped her then, a good hard hit that sent her head reeling. It also cleared her senses.

"Wh- Ben? What are you doing here?"

She wrinkled her nose in confusion. "And in a dress?"

"Long story. Is Dawn alright?"

Buffy's lip began to quiver as she looked behind him, over

his shoulder, at the body of her sister.

He too looked, and his voice filled with concern.

"God, Buffy. I'm so sorry. Here, let me help you."

He went to tend the man lying in the bed. After a few seconds, he turned to her, sadness in his expression.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. Your friend didn't make it."

She looked up at him, and laughed. But the sound wasn't a happy one.

"Ben, he's a vampire. If I can wake him up, he'll live. Or unlive, Whatever."

Now it was Ben's turn to look confused.

"Oookay, then. Want me to find you a nice piece of wood then? So you can finish him up?"

She gave him a good, hard look.

"Nah. This one's my friend."

After Ben helped her put Spike into the front passenger seat, together they stretched Dawn out in the back. The Key was gone. Buffy would take her sister home, so she could lie beside her mother in Sunnydale Memorial. Where someday she'd join them.

"Maybe sooner than I'd like." She said aloud, to herself in the moonlight.

She stopped in the cemetery, carefully avoiding the fresh turned earth of her own mother's grave. She wasn't ready to deal with that. Not yet. Not tonight. Skirting around, she parked the car in the bushes near the rear of the cemetery, within easy walking distance of Spike's crypt.

"Okay, Bleach-boy, you're home. Chez Spike. C'mon, Wake up. I don't think I can carry you."

She'd dressed him in his duster and the remains of the bed sheets. She was uncertain what Glory'd done with the rest of his clothing. She noticed now that most of the white of the sheets had gone red with blood from his chest wounds. Could a vampire bleed to death?

She got out, and raced around to the other side of the car, then carefully hauled him out of it. As she pulled him to his feet, he made the first noise she'd heard out of him in an hour.

"Aww, Bleedin' hell." He choked up more blood, and stumbled, forcing his weight fully onto her. She staggered, and then leaned him up against the car.

"Well, I bet you're not going to like this much."

She scooped him up into her arms. Slayer strength was nice to have at a time like this, she speculated. He wasn't much taller than she was, or she'd never have made it to the door. It wasn't his weight that posed the problem, so much as finding a way to carry him without pulling his chest back open.

"Hello?" She peered in with her ungainly bundle. The crypt OUGHT to be unoccupied, but you never know- Maybe Harmony'd taken him back. Maybe he'd acquired friends- Nah, never that. But better safe than sorry. There could be enemies lying in wait. Now, those Spike had in abundance.

But it seemed to be empty in here. Spike's impossibly Grand mausoleum- She'd wondered in the past what he'd done with its original occupants. Owing to the size of the place there must have been quite a few.

"Honestly, how many crypts are big enough for a double bed?" she thought, as she slid him into said bed.

Then she rooted around in his trunk for the first aide kit.

"How sad is it that I know my way around in here?" she thought.

She began changing bandages. The scratches were healing already, the holy water burns would take longer. She didn't know what to do about the cuts, though. They were enormous, and they weren't getting better yet. He was still bleeding profusely, especially from the over his heart. She could actually see inside him where it gaped open. Pink, healthy heart tissue- normal sized. But it

did not beat.

Back to the first aid kit she went. Nothing. So she went rummaging in the trunks again, and ultimately she did come up with a needle and some thread.

"Damn, I wish I'd paid more attention in home ec."

When she was finished, she studied her handiwork. It wasn't bad, really- the stitches were much neater than those she'd put on that DISASTROUS pillow top for a unit grade.

"Maybe fabric just is just not my medium to work in."

Spike's eyes opened slowly, as the Slayer came blearily into

focus.

"Buffy?"

"Ssh. You're okay, you're home."

He'd had this horrible dream; someone tried to rip his heart out. He looked down and saw-

His shriek startled Buffy as she was getting him blood out of the mini-fridge.

He was sitting up in bed, looking at his stitches.

"You've sewn me up like a bloody quilt!" He ran his hands over the mess, in fear and wonder.

"Yeah, well, I was sorta afraid you might turn over in your sleep and your HEART MIGHT FALL OUT." She slammed the door on the fridge and brought him the blood.

Spike looked about, as he sipped.

"Where's the Nibblet?"

Buffy finally broke. Her face crumpled, as Purpose lost out to Shellshock. She sat down on the side of the bed.

"She's dead, Spike. She"-

His expression reflected her pain, confusion and sadness

written in his blue eyes.

"What d'you mean, dead? I told her to stay here. Right here.

Until I got back."

"I don't understand. She was here? Last night, before Glory

got you?"

"Yeah. See, I had this plan- great plan, brilliant. Only you lot don't trust me anymore- So how could I help the girl? So I went to her yesterday and I told her, and she was supposed to stay right HERE AND WAIT FOR ME"

His voice rose in intensity, as he got angrier. How dare she put herself at risk like that? How dare she get herself killed, after all the trouble he'd gone to keep her safe-?

The door to the crypt's sub cellar gave a couple firm `thumps', and with a metallic whine, slid open partway.

Dawn's sleep-softened face peered up at them in the darkness, catching the moonlight.

"Sheesh. Can you two keep it down? Some of us have to sleep at NIGHT."

Buffy was stunned.

"Dawn? DAWN? Omigod, you're alive!"

She rushed to her, and hauled her bodily up out of the

darkness below. There was bewilderment in Buffy's voice.

"I saw you DIE."

Spike groaned in the bed, and not just from the pain of his injuries.

"Oh, Bloody, hell. Buffy, that was not Dawn."

Dawn saw the hurt and horror in her sister's eyes.

"Oh, Buffy! You weren't supposed to see that! That, that wasn't me, okay? It wasn't. It was some kind of kamikaze Dawn Robot. Spike had her built. He thought we'd fake my death. No key- No Glory. If we can't kill her, then we'll drive her away. Spike, tell her"-

Buffy turned to him, waiting for answers.

"Eh, Buffy- you remember that chap Warren?"