Requiem in D Minor 
by Alexandria 

He vaguely registered a frantic voice in his ear as he knelt there, the
pain coming from all sides. His body was destroyed, battered beyond
nearly anything he felt before. Some part of him was amazed he survived. 
Fuck, that was the only time he ever wished it was true vampires could
fly. But that pain was nothing, nothing, nothing compared to the pain
destroying his mind. And for just a moment, a moment, he was convinced
that he had a soul. He must have regained his soul. He must have. He
could feel it being ripped from him with every second that passed and she
lay there, motionless. The loss of her heartbeat was like the loss of his
limbs. Gone. She was gone. A moment of fierce pride caused his eyes to
flash yellow. Died to save them all. Her voice flared in his mind.

“You’re beneath me.” 

“Aren’t we all, Buffy, aren’t we all.” A strangled sob from his throat
and then reality crashed back into him with a shock as his hands caught
flame. Suddenly, the voice next to him made sense.

“Spike, come on, you have to move, please, please.” The witch, the other
one. He turned dazed eyes to her, sweeping quickly over her face.

“Nice to have you back, luv.” He staggered upright, hissing as the heavy
tarp settled over his head. He tried to walk but his shattered leg
wouldn’t hold any weight. He stopped then tumbled down as he tried to
spin back.

“Buffy, someone has to, has to,” his throat swelled shut and his eyes
closed. Get it together, mate, a firm voice in his mind lectured. Get it
together, you have to be strong. You promised. “Someone needs to take
her. Where’s Dawn?”

“I have her,” Giles quietly replied, gently gathering Buffy’s body in his
arms.

“But where’s,” Spike continued, unable to see clearly beneath the
sheltering shade of the tarp.

“Right, right here,” Dawn ducked under next to him, looping an arm around
his waist and trying to help him walk. “Spike, I’m, I’m sorry, I couldn’t
stop her, I tried, I did, I told her not to, it was me, I should have,
please,”

“Hush,” Spike squeezed her as closely as he could, hearing the note of
hysteria there. “Hush, it’s not your fault, never was your fault. Never
was. Never.” He forced his voice to be strong. He had to be strong. 
She was his responsibility now. He promised. Until the end of the
world. He promised. And now keeping that promise was all he could do.

Xander shifted Anya as they slowly made their way back to the cars. She
was so still and quiet now. He brushed a hand through her hair, feeling
the weight of the box in his pocket. Should he put in on her while she
was asleep or should he wait until she woke up? He debated it as they
arranged themselves, Willow driving. After all, she was the only one not
carrying one of the wounded. Or dead. His head flinched back and he
immediately tore his eyes from watching Giles. Poor Giles. It looked
like it was all he could do to keep it together, still trying to be the
grown up, still trying to be the calm center of their world. But that
world was gone now, sucked down into that void. A wave of grief hit and
he pushed it firmly away. Not now. Not now. Not when Anya was still
lying there, so still in his arms. He dropped a kiss onto her forehead,
then leaned back, resting his head. He would wait until she woke up. He
wanted to see her face when he slid the ring on her finger.

He carefully settled her onto the couch. They were back in Giles’s place,
he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the nearest. It didn’t matter though,
at least they stopped moving. Moving couldn’t be good for Anya. She was
still out, and he was getting a little worried. She was starting to get
cold and he didn’t want that. She was in shock, it was bad for people to
be cold when they were in shock. You were supposed to keep them warm. He
turned away, looking around wildly. There had to be some kind of blanket
around here somewhere.

“Giles, I need a blanket, Anya’s cold, please I need a blanket.” He
turned his head just enough to call over his shoulder. He heard the room
go still for a moment, then felt a body press into his as someone crouched
next to him.

“Xander, please, Xander, can you just stand up for a second?” Willow’s
voice shook as she ran a hand down Xander’s cheek. “Please, can you just
back up, for a moment?” She looked down at Anya, her heart breaking. 
Gone. She was gone.

“Willow, will you just go get me a blanket.” Xander shrugged away from
her touch and took Anya’s hands in his again. “C’mon, baby, wake up, it’s
time to wake up now. I’ve got something for you.” He dropped a hand down
and stroked a finger over the soft velvet of the box. “I want to see what
it looks like. Wake up.”

“Xander, I really think that you should, should move back now,” Xander
looked up, amazed at the sound.

“Tara,” a smile briefly touched his lips as he met her troubled gaze. 
“I’m so happy you’re back.” He dropped his head down, raking his fingers
through Anya’s hair. “She’s going to be so glad to see you, she missed
you, you know.”

“Xander, I do think,” Giles set the phone down, pinching his nose as he
let out a long sigh. For once he damned how thorough his training had
been. The plans for Buffy’s funeral had been arranged years ago, it was
simply a matter of making a call. He took a step towards the couch, then
went very still. “Xander,” he started again, speaking very cautiously. 
“I do think it best that you come speak with me in the kitchen for a
moment.” He could barely stand to see this, to watch as Xander run his
hands over that pale face.

“No, I want to be right here when she wakes up. Will somebody please go
get me a damn blanket?” Xander sighed, fighting the temptation to scream.
That would just startle her and he didn’t want that.

“Xander,” Dawn placed a hand on his shoulder. “Can we just talk to you
for a second?”

“Dawn, oh god, Dawn.” He spun around and crushed her to him. “I’m sorry,
I’m so sorry, I can’t even imagine what this is like. Are you okay, do
you need anything? You can stay with us, as long as you like.” He felt
terrible, here he was sitting here all worried about Anya when Anya would
be fine, she was going to be just fine, just fine when she finally woke
up. But Buffy was gone and Dawn had to be dying inside. He squeezed her
once more then released his grip when she pulled away.

“Giles,” she whispered over his head as Xander turned back to Anya, cooing
something softly under his breath. “Giles, what are we going to do, how
are we, what’s wrong with him?”

“Shock, I expect. I really, really have no idea how to, what to say.” 
Giles sank into a chair, all his energy gone. “I just don’t know.”

Spike looked up from where he was propped against the wall, his leg still
bent at an unnatural angle. That would have to be taken care of soon
before it set wrong. “What, you have to say something.” He glanced from
face to face, seeing the hesitation and pain there. “You can’t just let
him, that’s cruel, unbearably cruel.” All the rage that was building
inside finally snapped. They wouldn’t just tell him, none of them could
bear it, knowing that forever on when he looked at them this was the
moment that he would always remember. “Fuck it. He hates me already.” 
Spike shoved his way up the wall, then limped over to the couch. He
yanked Xander away from Anya’s body and held him up with the last of his
remaining strength.

“She’s dead, you stupid bugger.” Spike forced the words to be as cruel as
possible. Make him angry, make him feel anything else before the agony
hit too hard. Make him hate. Then maybe he would be spared a second of
the gut wrenching grief that was about to become his life. “Look at her. 
She’s dead. She was dead when you carried her to that car. She was dead
the whole time you held her. She’s dead. She’s dead.” The last words
were screamed out and Spike no longer knew which she he meant. “She’s
dead.” One last twist of the knife.

“No,” Xander pushed his way up, shaking off the words. “No, no, she’s
not.”

“Yes, she is. I was right, you are stupider than you look.” A sneer with
that as Spike took a step back, wanting nothing more than to collapse and
howl until he passed out from exhaustion.

“You motherfucker.” Xander yanked a stake from off the floor and took a
flying leap at Spike. “You motherfucker.” They went skidding across the
floor, Xander slamming a fist over and over into Spike, ripping apart
anyplace he could reach. “You motherfucker.”

Xander sat back and raised the stake high. “Say goodbye, Spike.” He
could feel the breeze his arm made as it swung through the air. The slam
of his head into the wall on the far side of the room came as total shock.
He shook his head, the fog of his rage clearing for a second. Willow
was standing in the center of the room, eyes gone pitch black.

“Drop it, Xander.” The stake clattered onto the floor the second he heard
her words. He came back to himself in a rush and he dove to the couch.

“Anya, Anya, Anya, please no please no please no please no,” the words
merged into a long wail as he pulled her body into his arms. “No, no, no,
no, no, no, no.”

Spike lay back and took another long pull at the bottle of whatever it
was. Some spilled down his shirt but that didn’t matter anymore. Nothing
really mattered anymore. She was gone. Gone. Gone for good. And Christ
if it didn’t hurt more than he thought anything ever could. She was gone.
His mind still refused to accept it. He half expected her to burst
through the door at any moment with a caustic remark that would pierce
straight through him. Gods, what he would give for her to burst through
the door with a caustic remark that would pierce straight through him. 
Another shudder, pain, grief, he couldn’t tell anymore, wasn’t sure there
was a difference, rippled through him.

She was gone. And the hell of it was that he wasn’t going to be joining
her. “Was it a trick, Buffy, was this your final revenge. Make me
promise to protect her, knowing what you were going to do. That’s it
isn’t it? You wanted to make me suffer, even after you were gone.” He
sat up gingerly, swinging his legs off the bed. He still could barely
stand on his own, but at least he could stand. At least a little. He
moved over to grab a cigarette, swaying, whether from his injuries or
drink, who could tell. He leaned against the wall, picked up the bottle
and gave a toast.

“Slayer. You were the best of them all.” He downed the rest of the
whiskey, so it was whisky, in one long pull. He slid down the wall, head
leaning back.

“Get it together, mate. You’ve got to get it together, there’s a lot to
do. You have to protect that baby girl. You promised. Until the end of
the world. And you owe her that. Get it together.” Tears pricked the
sides of his eyes and he dashed them away quickly. “Stop that. You owe
her better than this.”

“Damn right you do.” The sudden sound of another voice startled him. He
tried to turn to the door, but the movement was too much and he ended up
toppled over instead. A large hand reached down and yanked him up.

“Xander.” Spike eyed him over, looking for the stake. “Come to finish
the job now that Red’s gone?”

“No,” came the curt reply. Spike looked a little closer, catching the
strong scent of gin burning through Xander’s skin. “No. Actually, I came
to apologize. Here.” Spike automatically took the bottle being shoved
into his hands.

“No need to apologize, mate.” He watched as Xander paced around the
crypt, eyes not really seeing where he was. “I just thought you needed a
bit of a shock and I went too far. So, sorry and all that rot.”

Xander just nodded as he continued to pace. Spike leaned back against the
wall, exhausted. He really, really didn’t feel like this, he really,
really didn’t want to fight. He just wanted to curl up into a ball and
die. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t. A growl escaped him as he tore open
the bottle and took a gulp. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and then
held the bottle out.

“No thanks, got my own.” Xander held up his own bottle and Spike winced
as he watched Xander take a pull of straight gin. Just imagining the
taste of it made Spike’s stomach lurch. They stood in silence for a few
more moments, until Spike couldn’t take it any more.

“Why are you here, really, I know you don’t give a fuck about before, why
are you here?” Not that he minded the company, actually it felt good to
have someone there who hurt as much as he did. Good in a dark, twisted
kind of way.

“Willow and Tara sent me over to make sure you weren’t getting ready to go
for a little stroll at the crack of dawn. They thought I could use the
distraction” Xander’s voice was so sharp it could have cut glass.

Spike flinched at the unconscious choice of words. The crack of dawn. 
Dawn. Dawn. How wonderfully ironic that choice of name, now that she was
the reason why he couldn’t go outside and wait for sunrise. “No, no, I’m
not going to do that.”

“See,” Xander’s eyes flared as he turned to face Spike. “See, I knew I
was right. You didn’t really care for her that much, I knew it. Giles
didn’t think you would make it this long, he figured you probably staked
yourself by now, Tara figured I would walk in on you trying to get up the
nerve and Willow figured you would go outside this morning. But I knew I
was right,” Xander lurched towards Spike, his voice rising. “I knew you
didn’t love her, I knew it. Fuck, you’re pathetic, you would say anything
to get to her wouldn’t you? You figured you couldn’t kill her so you
would just fuck her, that’s it wasn’t it. You must be having a nice laugh
at us all now. Willow’s worried sick about you, even if she would never
say anything.” Xander reached out and shoved Spike hard, trying to drive
the vampire even further into the wall. “You sick fuck.”

“Fuck you.” Spike shoved back, his mind caught in a white hot blaze of
fury so intense the pain hardly registered. “Fuck you. I loved her. 
Loved her. And the only reason I’m sticking around is because I promised
her I would protect Dawn. I promised her that. And I bloody well fucking
failed the first time and now she’s dead.” Spike shoved Xander again,
knocking him to the ground. “I failed, I could have stopped it and I
didn’t and now she’s dead and I can try to do is to protect that precious
girl now. So fuck you, get out, what would you understand? How the hell
can you understand?” Spike loomed over Xander, hands quivering in rage. 
How dare he judge him? How dare he? He didn’t need anyone else
condemning him. He was doing a good enough job all by himself.

Xander pulled himself off the floor, then swung as hard as he could. He
connected with a solid right to Spike’s chin that sent the vampire
staggering back. “Don’t understand, don’t understand, you motherfucker, I
just lost the woman I loved, the woman I loved more than anything, how can
you say I don’t understand. Fuck you.” He stalked over to where Spike
was leaning dazed against the wall. He swung again, only to hit the wall
when Spike ducked. “Shit, that hurts.” Xander backed up, shaking his
hand as the pain hit.

“Shouldn’t have done that then.” Spike took a few wary steps away, then
moved over and retrieved his bottle. “I am sorry, you know. She was
nice.”

“Thanks.” Xander retrieved his own bottle, then sank into the chair. 
Spike sprawled on the bed. They remained like that for several long
minutes.

“Why are you here, really?” Spike’s quiet question finally broke the
silence.

“I don’t know.” Xander concentrated on peeling the label from his bottle.
“I just didn’t want to be with them anymore. They’re being so nice and
trying to be sympathetic and I just, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to
get out of there.”

“And so you came here.” Spike snorted at that. “Figured I wouldn’t be
nice to you, well got that right.”

“Fuck you, Spike.” Xander’s voice was weary. “I figured you would
understand.”

Spike started as a small box landed on the bed. He picked it up, eyes
going wide when he realized what it was. “Bloody hell, Xander.” He
slowly set the box on the floor next to the bed. “Xander.”

“I asked her before we left. She said no. She said the only reason I was
asking was because I knew we weren’t going to live. I told her the only
reason I was asking was because I was sure we were. She said yes. I went
to put it on her and she told me after, she didn’t want it until after. 
But she said yes. She said yes, Spike. And now, now she’s gone.” Xander
stared at the bottle in his hands for a moment, then stood and threw it
against the wall. It shattered with a gratifying smash. “She’s gone. 
She was all I had and now she’s gone.”

“Xander,” Spike stood, wobbling slightly, then limped over to throw an arm
across Xander’s shoulders. “Bloody hell, sorry mate”

“Don’t, Spike, don’t you pity me.” Xander shrugged Spike’s arm down. 
“Don’t.”

“Shit, I’m trying to be nice here, mate. Don’t be so touchy. That’s a
hard blow.” Spike stepped back, heading for the bed again. All this
movement was starting to really hurt. “I know how you feel, I was only
trying to. . .”

“You do not know how I feel.” The words came through clenched teeth. 
“There is no possible way you know how I feel. You’re a soulless fiend. 
You have no idea how much I love her. You have no idea how I feel”

Spike snapped at that. “Don’t know how you feel, don’t know how you feel?
Why don’t I tell you how you feel.” He stopped and marched back,
ignoring the pain, the fury too hot to allow any other sensation to
register in his mind. “How’s this. You feel like there’s no reason to
take another step, why, there’s no point. You feel like there’s no reason
to say another word, there’s no one there to listen to you anymore. You
feel like the world has suddenly gone hollow. You feel like you’re dead
and you don’t understand why your body hasn’t caught up yet. You feel
like everything could collapse around you and you wouldn’t care, it
doesn’t matter any more. Nothing matters any more. Nothing will ever
matter again.” His voice raised as he leaned in closer. “Is that how you
feel, like the only good thing you’ve ever known is suddenly broken and
destroyed? Is it, because if it is, then I fucking well do know how you
feel.”

“Don’t you compare yourself to me.” Xander screamed back, pushing Spike
away. “Don’t you ever. I loved Anya.”

“And I loved Buffy.” Spike stood toe to toe with Xander, both swaying
where they stood.

“She hated you, Anya loved me. She loved me. She loved me.” Xander
reached out and grabbed Spike’s shirt, shaking the vampire, desperately
needing someone to believe. “She loved me.”

“At least she loved you back. Fuck you, standing there raving on and on. 
She loved you back. She loved you back.” Spike tried to pull away, his
own emotions spilling over. “She loved you back. Buffy hated me, she
hated me. And now she’s gone.” They tumbled to the floor as Spike’s legs
finally gave out.

Xander sprawled on top of Spike, panting as they stared at one another,
eye to eye.

“Spike, I can’t take this, I can’t feel like this, I can’t bear it for
another second, I just want to feel something else, anything else, I
can’t,” Xander stopped, sucking in a breath. He couldn’t believe he was
saying this to Spike. But Spike understood. He was the only one who
could possibly understand. “I don’t want to feel anything anymore.”

Spike nodded, that he understood, that was a feeling he knew all too well.
“Neither do I.”

They stared at one another, the seconds measured by the beating of
Xander’s heart.

“Spike, I don’t, I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight. Please, can I
stay?” Xander pushed up so that he was staring down at Spike. They both
heard Xander’s heart begin to race as he moved slightly, trailing the back
of his fingers down Spike’s cheek. “Please. Don’t make me go.”

“I won’t.” Spike caught Xander’s hand with his own, stilling the
movement, trapping it against his skin. Another long moment, then Xander
bent his head. He needed this, he needed this desperately. He had to
touch someone, anyone, someone who would understand that he craved
contact, craved it, the need pounding in his blood. Needed to touch
before he shattered into a thousand pieces.

Spike opened his mouth when Xander’s lips touched his. This, this was why
Xander came to him. He knew it the second he heard Xander’s voice. And
he needed it just as desperately. Too much loss. Too much pain. Too
much everything. It was a benediction. A sacrifice to all that should
have been and never, never would be. A desperate grasp for anything
sounding of life. A requiem in a minor key.

Xander ran his hands down Spike’s sides, feeling the flinch as he brushed
over the stab wound. His mind shut down and his body took over. He
craved the coolness of Spike’s body, the solidness of the muscle, the
sharp planes and firm edges. Nothing like Anya. Exactly what he needed. 
He tilted his head, making the kiss harder and deeper, his desperation
coming through clear. He needed this. And he needed this now. He eased
his way off Spike’s body, not looking up not wanting to meet Spike’s eyes.

“Bed, Xander?” The question startled him and he sat back, collecting his
breath for a moment.

“Yeah.” Just that, one simple word. He could say that without breaking
down again.

“Help me up.” Spike leaned on elbow and raised the other hand. Xander
grasped his forearm and pulled him up. They stood for a second, neither
sure what to do. Spike nodded once, then took Xander’s hand and pulled
him to the bed.

They didn’t say another word, just fell onto the bed and started kissing
once again. Hands tangled in hair as tongues snaked against each other,
swapping the bitter tang of alcohol, sweat and tears. Shirts went flying
and Xander kicked his shoes off. Spike winced as he tried to bend over to
unlace his boots.

“Let me.” Xander leaned down and undid the laces quickly, running a hand
along Spike’s thigh as he did so.

Spike bit his lip as the heat moved up his leg. Xander moved back up to
lie next to Spike on the bed, his hand still tracing patterns on Spike’s
thigh. Spike reached out and flicked the top button of Xander’s jeans
open. Xander shuddered slightly, then pinned Spike to the bed.

“Let me.” He moved down the vampire’s body, marveling at how quickly the
wounds were healing. He was still battered and bruised, and his leg still
didn’t seem quite right. But Xander didn’t care. His world had narrowed
to only this, there was room for only this. Get Spike naked. Then get
that cock in his mouth. He quickly unbuttoned Spike’s jeans, then
carefully pulled them down. Spike flinched a little as the fabric scraped
his cuts, but Xander didn’t stop until they were off. He stood at the
foot of the bed, looking down to see Spike sprawled there. Desire hit
hard and fast and he fell in between Spike’s legs. There was no time for
foreplay, no time for teasing. He needed that cock in his mouth. Now. 
Now, his body screamed. Now, his mind agreed. Now.

Spike threw his head back when the heat of Xander’s mouth engulfed him. 
This was what he needed. This. Exactly this. There was no time to
think, no time to grieve, no time to mourn. No time for anything but the
feel of that tongue moving so surely up and down, up and down. No time
for anything but the sensation of Xander’s fingers caressing his balls. 
Spike tossed his head back and forth. He wasn’t going to last, not for
long. He wanted this to be over. He wanted it to go on forever. He
bucked his hips as Xander started up a steady rhythmic suction. Too good.
It felt too good, it was too much. He couldn’t last, he didn’t have the
strength. His hips thrust up once, hard and then he came, a strangled cry
dying on his lips. He felt Xander swallow, then pull away.

“Come here.” Spike leaned onto his side as he felt Xander stretch out on
the bed next to him. “What do you want? Anything you want, just tell
me.” Anything Xander wanted he could have, Spike would do anything to
give Xander the same seconds of peace that he had just given Spike.

“The same.” Xander ran a hand down Spike’s chest. “That’s what I want. 
The same thing.”

“I can do that.” Spike pressed Xander flat on the bed. “I can do that.” 
He reached up and unzipped Xander’s jeans, then pulled them down, Xander
lifting his hips to help. Spike leaned back up, moving Xander over so
that he could settle between the human’s legs. He was going to do this
right. It was the least he could do.

Spike slowly lowered his head, his hands rubbing up and down Xander’s
thighs as he did so. His tongue darted out and he traced it just around
the tip. Xander arched under his hands, and Spike lowered his head,
moving down inch by inch, tongue swirling around the firmness in his mouth
as he did so. He heard Xander start to pant and his hands grew slick with
Xander’s sweat. He slowly pulled up, then worked his way back down,
slightly faster, taking Xander in slightly deeper. He concentrated on
Xander’s heartbeat, listening as it beat faster and faster. Good. Xander
wasn’t thinking any more, wasn’t feeling anything but this. Good. He
stepped up the pace, a hand drifting down to stroke the base of Xander’s
shaft as his tongue laved the top. Xander began to moan slightly above
him and quickened the pace yet again. Soon. It would be soon. He felt
Xander’s balls tighten and he bent his head down, taking Xander in as
deeply as he could. Xander arched beneath him and Spike swallowed,
drinking down every drop. When it was over he crawled up the bed and fell
onto his back beside the human.

“You should stay, at least until the sun rises.” Spike turned to face
Xander. “If you want.”

“I will.” It was safer that way. If he ran into a vampire, that would be
it. He couldn’t take another fight.

Spike nodded once, then lay back on the bed. They drifted off, both far
too tired to dream.

Xander slowly sat up as the sunlight crept into the crypt. “I have to go.
I have to get back, there’s stuff,” He stopped as Spike reached up and
grasped his arm.

“I know. I understand. Tell Dawn to stop by later, I need to talk to her
about, well, about everything.”

“I will.” Xander stood, dressing quickly. He went to the door, then
turned back. Spike was lying on his back, an arm draped across his face,
the blanket covering him from the chest down.

“Spike, thanks.” He slipped out the door, heading back to his empty
apartment, leaving them both alone with their grief.

THE END