Title: Well of Realms

Author: Nightmelody

email: nightmelody@hotmail.com

Season: post Chosen

Summary: Yet another human-Spike- post Chosen fic.

Pairing: S/B

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The Buffyverse belongs to Joss Whedon

                       Chapter Two:

                       Time to Heal

Los Angeles. Wolfram and Hart building. Late June.

Fred and Gunn entered Angel's plush office.

"Well, we got them all safely on the jet. They'll be joining Giles in
London tomorrow around two pm," Fred announced.

"Good. And Giles knows what flight they are on, I assume?"

"Yes. I was with Willow when she phoned him. He has all the
information he needs."

"Good. Well, I'm sorry I couldn't accompany the girls to the airport.
But I did manage to get something done here."

He handed Fred a file folder. "We were able to erase Faith from the
prison system computers, and just to be safe I had a set of very high
quality false identification papers prepared for her. Get it on
overnight mail, okay? Oh, and send Faith a cell phone from our
system, so we can keep in touch with her."

He shook his head in astonishment. "The records department manager
didn't even blink an eye when I said I wanted good false identity
papers for an escaped con.You see, people, there are advantages to
having a staff that is comfortable with the workings of evil."

"Did Buffy seem okay?" He continued in a softer voice.

Fred and Gunn shared a glance. Okay and Buffy weren't words anyone
was currently putting together.

"Um...Willow seemed to have everything under control." Gunn
said. "She had Buffy take a sedative while they waited to board."

"And Dawn was keeping track of Buffy's carry-on."

"Good. Well. I think that the Glastonbury Retreat will be the best
thing for her."

Fred and Gunn nodded in agreement, and then went about their business
in their departments.

Angel sat for a while, looking at a photo taken just last week, of
Buffy and Dawn. Dawn was smiling right into the camera, her arm
wrapped tight around Buffy's waist. Buffy was looking off into the
sky, not even aware there was a camera.

They had arrived a day after the apocalypse in a school bus. Dirty,
exhausted and wounded, but alive. Buffy had been in charge, getting
every one medical attention, clothes, food, warm beds-every little
detail had gone through her.

He and his staff didn't even know she was sporting a nasty wound
herself, not until later that night.

He and Giles had been sitting in the lounge, sipping a drink, going
over the events of the battle. Buffy had come down the stairs wearing
a pair of pajama pants and a baby blue t shirt, some of the dozens of
items of apparel Fred had come up with..

"Where's Spike?" She demanded to know. "Did you put him in the
basement? How am I going to get to sleep if he isn't with me? My room
has good drapes, he doesn't need to sleep in the basement."

Angel and Giles had stared at her, mouths agape.

She frowned and walked passed them to a door. "Spike?" She yelled
into a reception room "I'm tired. It's time for bed. You're supposed
to hold me and help me sleep!"

Buffy turned back toward them and now they could see blood seeping
onto her shirt . "Did he go outside to smoke? Giles, would you go get
him?" And then she fainted.

Internal bleeding. Infection, accompanied by a high fever. She was in
the hospital for over a week. When she returned to the Hyperion she'd
been physically better, but hardly better at all, mentally.

"She's had a lot of loss. She lost you twice, Angel. Her Dad, her
Mom. Tara. You took off when she really needed you, Giles, last year.
She almost lost Dawn. Almost lost me. Almost lost Xander. Died
herself, and then was ripped out of heaven by yours truly. Lost
Cassie, lost Potentials. Lost Anya. Almost lost Spike, fought to get
him back...and then, lost Spike." Willow told them, after a long
consultation with the doctor. " And apparently, he was the one she
depended on the most, emotionally. For several years, too, way back
to the time of Glory."

"I think she really loved him. She was just too afraid to admit it,
until the end. The whole Slayer, vampire thing. So now she's full of
grief and guilt and regret. It's going to take her a long time to
heal."

"I'll provide whatever she needs. Doctors, counseling...whatever."
Angel promised.

"We'll need to research it." Giles said. "She needs counselors who
will understand the whole Slayer calling."

Giles found a retreat in Glastonbury, an abbey of magical women,
wiccans, holy women of all types, from all around the world. He flew
to England to make arrangements for her care, and to find housing for
himself, Dawn and Willow. With Wolfram and Hart's help, he tapped
into the Watchers' Council accounts, and intended, with Willow's
help, to work on restoring the library and resources of the council.

So Willow and Dawn got Buffy ready for the trip to England while
Angel stood by, feeling helpless, but doing what he could in the way
of finances and other resources. To see Buffy so lost was hard.
Scary. And the fact that her grief was over Spike-Spike!- made it all
the more difficult to see.

He'd asked the others about Buffy and Spike, but their insights made
him even more confused. It seems that Buffy and Spike had conducted
their relationship-or whatever you called it- in secret.

"He loved her with all his heart." Dawn had said in that hard voice
of hers, eyes flashing. "And she would have loved him. If she hadn't
been so afraid of ..of all of us disapproving. And she was always
trying to be so damned good."

She had stalked off and Angel almost said a prayer of thanksgiving
that that teenager wasn't his responsibility. He got the distinct
impression she didn't plan on making her sister's mistake of being
too good. Poor Giles and Willow.

Willow, Dawn and Buffy were the last to leave LA. Xander had left to
help his family resettle in Cherrydale, a small town down the road a
few miles from the former Sunnydale. Andrew had accompanied him,
since he had an Aunt in that area, also relocating. Faith had gone to
Cleveland with Kennedy and a couple other Slayers, looking for
action .Wood had flown to New York. The other girls had vanished to
their homes, to their lives before the First Evil.

It looked like they might have a season or so of calm. Time to heal.

Angel went back to work.