Characters: Mainly Spike, Willow, Angel, and Dawn.
Summary: Buffy’s funeral. I was never satisfied when we didn’t get to see her friends mourning.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the characters aren’t mine. Hmm, wish they were though.
Feedback: Always welcome : ) You can email me at paganpyleaprincess@yahoo.co.uk, or you can find me on the board.

***

The dank room, smelling musty and forgotten, had an air about it. The tomb like coffin provided shelter from the doorway as he hid behind it. From the voices at the wooden door, he knew who they were. Not just the voices, but also the familiar smells that came to him. The first was willow, her sweet scented perfume drifted to him on a breeze from outside. He remembered smelling it earlier in the day, before he had wandered here. It was familiar and pleasant and he shut his eyes. Even though it had been days, he still smelt the hint of Buffy on willow’s skin. But not caring, he raised the bottle in his left hand to his lips and took a mouthful. The other smell was not quite so pleasant. The deep, yet quiet voice spoke, and it made him shudder. Angel What right did he have to be here? He thought miserably as angel spoke again, and he took another sip from the bottle. Spike listened tentatively to their conversation. “Is he here? Angel?” willow sounded frantic. He had left in a hurry, he supposed. He would have gladly spoken to willow, if it weren’t for him. There was a pause, where spike instinctively knew that angel had nodded. He knew angel would have sensed him. They were “family”. Yeah right

He heard willow take a few more steps into the crypt.
“Spike?”
He didn’t answer. He reached a hand up to his head to find it still bleeding from his previous punch-up. But it didn’t hurt. All he felt was the pain in his unbeating heart, and the voice in his head telling him how bad he was for fighting at Buffy’s funeral.
Buffy’s

He thought. It didn’t seem real. “Spike?” willow spoke again. “Maybe we should leave him, let him cool down?” angel said in a soothing tone that made spike’s skin prickle. He clenched his free fist, and blood trickled out of the grazes on his knuckles. How dare he talk to willow as though she was some…thing. She wasn’t, she was Buffy’s best friend. That meant he had to protect her too. Then he heard her speak again, this time in his head. “I know you’re here.” She was using those powers of hers. He shut his eyes and faced the ground. “Best go red, don’t leave bit.” He said back. He’d gotten used to the witch speaking through telepathy and had gotten quite good at it himself.

There was another pause and he could picture her face, one of sympathy, worry and anxiety. But nevertheless, she turned and headed out of the doorway. He waited until the last fine threads of her perfume had disappeared, and he was left back in the dank dark crypt until he came out of his hiding place.

A tear slid down his face as he sat cross-legged on the stone coffin, setting the now empty bottle in front of him. He thought back to the events of the day…

The sun was shining, the birds were singing and trees swayed merrily in the breeze. But spike didn’t care, didn’t take anything in. Today he buried his love. He’d woken up early, despite needing to sleep that day to be up at night. Her friends had decided on a daytime ceremony, as Buffy had spent so long in the dark. A load of nonsense in his book. They’d also decided not to bury her in the graveyard, but under the trees. They said it was because they didn’t want her to spend eternity in a cemetery. But spike thought it was worse to spend eternity alone.

He had sat at the end of this very stone coffin, in the tux that, despite their spats, Xander had bought him. Then a car had arrived, early before sunrise, with blacked out windows. He’d been taken to the summers’ household where everything was pandemonium. Willow had taken to going through mountains of clothes, crying uncontrollably while Tara stood watching on unbearably. Tara said it was usual for willow to behave this way when someone died. Spike’s job had been to take care of the niblet, but whenever he went near dawn she locked herself in her room. After realising he was no use to anyone, and deciding to leave them all to it, he had wandered upstairs, intending to talk to dawn, when he had spied Buffy’s bedroom door open.

For a moment, he froze. He had wondered whether he would be offending anyone to go in. He reached the doorway and stood in it, taking in the surroundings for a moment. Then, without caring he had entered and sat on her bed, looking at the pictures that surrounded her walls and desk. “Weird isn’t it?” Spike turned to see dawn at the doorway with red eyes and rosy cheeks. He nodded and she came to sit next to him. “Last night, I had a dream that she was still here.” She whispered. “Me to.” Spike’s voice wobbled as he picked up the frame nearest to him, a picture of Buffy, willow and Xander sat in her front garden. “Only, I bet you didn’t wake up standing in her room, wondering where she’d gone.” dawn said. Spike looked toward her stunned. “Oh. Dawn.” He said.

A tear rolled down her cheek as he put a hand on her shoulder. There was I pause. “I just wish she was here.” Dawn muttered. Suddenly she burst into tears and spike had taken her into his arms in an almost fatherly embrace….

The blackened out car had joined the convoy along the main streets of Sunnydale. Of course, he’d had to share with angel. He was glad however, that the dark haired vampire hadn’t started anything. He’d hoped the day would bring him some kind of peace and the last thing he’d wanted was a fight.

Once out into the open air, the two vampires had been rushed under a pergola, which provided their shelter from the sun. Dawn and the others had joined them. The little girl was passed from pillar to post, as everyone had tried to pay attention to her, until spike had finally taken her under his wing.

Every now and then she would poke her head out from under his arm at passing cars. “What’s up bit?” he’d asked disinterestedly. “Just thought my dad could have made it,” she sighed angrily, and spike had pulled her closer. It was then that he could feel the anger coursing through angel, knew he was making it hard for the other vampire. Willow and Tara were stood on the other side of the grave and they’d both given a small smile to spike. Only tiny. Xander had been by and put a hand on his shoulder in comfort, even though the two never got on. Giles had shook his hand and Dawnie had clung to him like an extra part of him throughout the service and he knew it was getting to angel. Of course, Wesley and Cordelia stood right next to their boss, by his side. But they were a poor substitute for Buffy’s friends and family.

Willow cried.

Dawn cried.

Xander and Anya cried.

So did Tara and Giles.

When the vampires began to break down, everyone hurried to give spike a tissue or some comfort. Only willow really made the effort to comfort angel. Truth was, Spike had been there and Angel had been somewhat absent a long time. He guessed it was easier for everyone to comfort him rather than angel. Spike watched as they put Buffy’s body into the ground and thought how unfair it was. Then he looked at dawn. He knew the girl had lost her sister in the space of a few short months after her mother.

And cried.

At the wake, there had been a black cloud hanging over them. Hardly anyone spoke. Old high school friends who hadn’t been invited to the service came to visit. Lost family members reared their ugly heads. As the wake was at the summer’s house, dawn had gone to bed. The majority of guests sat in the sitting room staring into space. A space left by Buffy’s death.

Spike hadn’t been able to resist the urge to go up to Buffy’s room again. The white doors of the upstairs were still gleaming, with their brass handles to set them off. He knew she wasn’t behind the door, but when he opened it, he had an image of Buffy, sat on her bed ready to tell him to go away and leave her alone.

But there was only angel.

He looked up, surprised. “What the hell do you want?” he said, putting back a stuffed animal on the bed.

Spike swallowed hard. “To be alone.” He answered in almost a growl.

Angel had stood up in almost a threatening way. “Yeah, over my dead body.” He snarled.

“Too right.” Spike had answered.

Angel wasn’t in the mood “get out.”

“How about… no?” spike cocked his head to one side.

Angel advanced, as if trying to attack him; instead he reached for the door handle. “You know what? Fine. Sit here and feel sorry for yourself.” He opened the door and went into the hallway. Spike grinned, “oh, you can talk.” He said, stepping into the hall too. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he said, turning. “It means you’re moping over the fact that you weren’t the last thing on Buffy’s mind.” He said maliciously. Angel grinned. “Aww, spike, got yourself a little crush didn’t ya. Thought you were Buffy’s baby?” Pain seared through spike like a hot poker. Or a railroad spike he thought miserably.

“I’m not fighting about this.” He said dismissing it. Without warning angel’s fist flew into him and spike crashed to the floor. “Angel?! What’s going on?!” willow’s voice came up the stairs. She hadn’t missed the fact that Angel had obviously thrown the first punch. Angel proceeded in going down the stairs. But spike hadn’t finished, wiping the blood from his lip he chased angel down the stairs. “That’s right angel, walk away. Just like you walked away from Buffy!” he shouted. Before angel could retaliate, willow stepped between them. “You guys, Buffy wouldn’t want this!” she soothed. “No willow! She wouldn’t, but angel doesn’t care! Doesn’t have any respect!” he shouted. He was so angry he didn’t care about what he was saying. He needed to take his pain out on someone and angel just happened to be there. “Guys!” willow shouted, but it was too late. Angel hit him again with full force. Suddenly Cordelia and Wesley had both been there, trying to hold him back. But he shook them off. Spike stood, grinning, now vamped out and looking menacing. Any chatter there was now had stopped, and everyone was focused on the two vampires.

“Poor poor angel, wasn’t there for Buffy when she died. Bet it killed you didn’t it? Knowing I was there and you weren’t?” he said, “Bet you really moped over that one!” “Shut up.” Angel said in a low voice. “Felt sorry for yourself didn’t you. She died around people she cared about most. Funny how you weren’t there?” he said. Angel growled. “That’s right angel, you’ll be known as the one who ruined her funeral, the one who fought because you’re so guilty. All the pain you caused her with a soul and without. Come on angel. I don’t wanna fight you.” He frowned and willow sighed. But spike lowered his voice.

“I wanna fight Angelus.”

With that, angel had vamped and the two had gotten into the biggest fight any one had ever seen. Spike didn’t care what was happening to him. He just wanted angel to feel immense pain. Feel how hard it was for him. Because he knew she had loved angel. And not him.

Finally, spike had fought to remain on top, and had pinned angel down. With all his force he had repeatedly punched with every bit of him stinging with pain. He kept on punching, without even realising angel had changed his face back or that his face was streaming with tears. Slowly he had begun to stop, realising what he was doing and threw himself back. That was when he’d seen dawn at the bottom of the stairs, staring back at him horrified like he was some sort of monster.

He changed back to try and make it better, but saw the hurt in her eyes. She ran up the stairs in tears. “Dawn!” he called, arms outstretched, but it had been too late. Now he saw everyone look at him with the same contempt. The love and comfort for him was over, and they began to attend to angel. Feeling hurt and betrayed, he had left the summers home to return to his crypt, where he had tried to get drunk and forget the pain….

He jumped up angrily, the thought of the fight fresh in his mind again. In blinding anger he had stormed around the crypt, smashing everything in sight. Then he collapsed onto the ground. Nobody understood what it felt like for him.

“Why d’you do it Slayer?” he mumbled, wiping tears from his face. “Why d’you leave me?”

He heard the door creak and a crack of sunlight hit the floor. He didn’t move away from it. He was far enough out of its way.

“I know it was Angel.”

There was that perfume again. Like rose petals and sweet summer’s air. He shut his eyes for a minute and imagined it was Buffy who stood at the doorway. He smiled a little, but looked up to see only Willow standing there.

“What?” he said croakily.

She shut the door behind her and came to kneel beside him.

“I know Angel started the fight. I heard what he said.” She looked into his eyes and felt sorry for him. She knew he must have been killing himself over the fact that he’d had a fight at Buffy’s funeral.

“It doesn’t matter who started it. I let her down. One day to prove myself and…” tears fell down his face and his voice cracked.

She began to get teary herself and tried to hold them back, placing an arm around his shoulders. They’d never exactly been close, but right now, other than Xander, Willow felt Spike was the only other person who understood her pain.

“You never let her down. You kept your promise. You watched over Dawn all day, when no one else could face it. She was smiling down on you today.” She cried, stroking his hair gently.

And the two of them sat and cried together alone in that crypt until the next day’s light rose above the horizon, to start a new morn….