“So you'll telling me the Buffster might be alive and well?” Xander asked, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. Even Anya appeared moved by the new information. She sat silently, with her hands clasped in Xander's, her face towards the ground.
I didn't think that I would even have any more emotions to release, but there were the tears burning behind my eyes.
“She's not Xander. She's still dead. She going to remain dead unless we do something.” Willow had gotten the task of explaining it all, and I was only happy that it wasn't me. My voice would most definitely not be able to say those words.
The room was quiet after she said this, no one's eyes meeting, knowing that if we did we would all fall apart.
A lone voice broke the awkward silence. “But Willow, what can we do?” Dawn was sitting on the floor, clutching this sweater of Buffy's that she had been sleeping with. I'd glanced over at her before, and she had had her thumb in her mouth. She shouldn't have to know these things.
“Research. We need the information before we can do anything Dawnie. But it's going to happen. It has to. This book says that it will.”
“Willow is uh, absolutely right. This book, Le Livre Des Assassins, The Book of Slayers, has always been accurate in its prophecies.” Giles removed his glasses and wiped them on the edge of his polo. He didn't wear dress shirts anymore. “Did Angel...”
I got up and left the room as soon as his name was mentioned. I didn't want to hear about Angel. I hated him most days. Buffy loved him. He stole Dru. He'd been in the sun again, in whatever god forsaken portal he'd been sucked into. He was always a little bit better than I was, but that little bit gave him it all. She was going to come back, I was sure now, but she was going to be with him. Light and dark. She was pure; he was not. He was the fatherly love, he would be allowed to make love to Buffy again, to bring forth children of his own. He had my dream, and there was no way I was going to get it back.
“Spike?” Dawn had creeped into the room, and when I turned to look at her, I realized I was sitting on Buffy's bed. I hadn't been in here since that night I told her about Captain Cardboard, and I jumped from the afghan-cloaked structure as if it was the sun itself.
“Niblet, what is it?”
“Everyone thinks that we should go to LA. I want to go with them.”
“Dawn, you have school. You can't just up and leave to go to another city. If you bloody well think that I'm going to let you...”
“Spike, I don't care if you let me. You're not my father. I know why you're here. You're here for Buffy. She asked you to be here for me, and you feel you don't have a choice. And don't tell me about school, I think getting my sister back is a little more important.”
“You're right, you're right. She's more important than anything else is in the world. But I'm not here because of her Dawn. I'm here because of you. I was going to kill myself that night, but you were there, and I love you Dawn. You're the most important thing that I have. I don't know what I'd do without you being here. With Angel being there.”
“Than come with us. Angel's not so bad. And it will get her back Spike. It will get her back for us.”
“You're wrong Lil' Bit, it will get her back for you.” I left her standing there, angry with myself for saying things like that to her, for being mad at her for trying to choose sides in a place she shouldn't even be. I grabbed a suitcase from the hall closet. Who knew how long we'd have to wait in LA?
