Vampire dust is falling in front of me and I'm not sure that I remember how to breathe.
Staking him was instinctive. It didn't require any thought, any doubt. He never even had the chance to change back into vamp face.
That feels right, somehow. Holden deserved to die with his own face. His old face.
I've been so stupid.
I think... I could have loved Spike... I could have loved him. If I'd been just a touch more blind than I was.
Maybe.
I need to warn Xander. Need to get Willow to put that protection spell back up.
Need to leave this cemetery sometime.
I gave Spike more than he knew. I never saw Angel in his eyes. When I was with Spike, I only saw Spike.
Still, I never loved him.
Love is complicated. Loving Spike would, I think, be something of a novelty for him. Because if he'd ever really been loved, then he never would have thought that I loved him. He would have been able to tell that I couldn't.
But I did trust him.
And now I need to kill him. Nothing new there, I've always needed to kill Spike.
I've always managed to avoid doing it.
Nothing's changed. He's never stopped being a killer.
But I changed. I trusted. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
Twice. The first time, I got bruises. This time, I have dead bodies. Dead bodies, quietly asking me for the word. Sire. Spike. Stake. Slayer.
No.
A fool in Slayer's clothing.
The dust... all that's left of Holden... is still now, lying on shattered glass.
In this, the moment after, a vampire's final death seems more beautiful than anything else in the world.
Anything but the memory of a breaking dawn and the promise of peace.
Sometime soon, I'll remember how to move. I'll leave, run to Xander's. Warn him. Find Spike. Take him to the final death.
Maybe I'll love Spike when he's a handful of dust.