Author's note: So, I don't own any of this. it's tragic. tragically tragic. don't sue me, pretty pretty please.

Some stuff you need to know: anything in italics is either a flashback or a letter. You're smart, people, you can tell the difference. Also, the main bit of this story revolves around Buffy running away after Willow dies in a different version of "Grave." Xander doesnt do the whole "yellow crayon" bit, and badness ensues. Also, the terrible bathroom scene didnt happen, nor did Spike and Anya's sexiness on top of the table, because i can pick and choose what i want to have happened. The rating's for later chapters, but there is a good bit of angstiness in this.

oh yeah, and if you leave me lovin' in the form of comments, i'll put more up. not that i'm bribing you. but if bribing works, then hey, i'm bribing the hell out of you. ~Kitten

Chapter 1

"Willow, you can reverse this," Buffy said. "You don't have to do this. I'm sorry about Tara, but this-this isn't the way, Will."

"I think you're wrong, Buff, this is the only way," the now-black-haired witch said. She closed her eyes and began to chant. "In nomine leek domine patrista-"

"Willow, please don't make me do this," Buffy begged desperately, clutching her sword tighter.

"Why do you want to stop me?" Willow asked, glaring at her. "You hate it here. If you die, you'll just go back to Heaven. I'm doing you a favor." She began chanting again.

"No, Willow. Please, stop this," Buffy pleaded.

"If you want to stop me, you'll have to kill me," Willow said.

"Willow, please-"

"Buffy, either kill me or shut the fuck up," Willow snapped. Tears in her eyes, Buffy stepped closer to her.

"I'm sorry, Will," she said, thrusting her sword through the former redhead's stomach. Willow's eyes went wide and she fell, breaking every spell she'd cast since Tara's death.

The girl woke up screaming. She hated that memory. Watching as her best friend's life faded in front of her eyes. She turned over in bed, burying her face into the pillow and sobbing. She sobbed helplessly until her alarm clock sounded, ringing loudly in her ear. Slapping a palm over it, she sniffled and climbed begrudgingly out of bed. She showered slowly, thinking.

Buffy trudged back to the house, covered in Willow's blood and carrying a blood- stained broadsword. She pushed the door open, stumbling to the living room. Her sister rushed to her side, taking in the sight of post-battle Buffy.

"Is Giles okay?" Buffy murmured, edging away from them.

"Yeah, Anya thinks he'll be fine," Dawn said slowly, staring wide-eyed at her sister.

"Good," Buffy said numbly. "Everybody else?"

"Some cuts and bruises," Dawn answered. Buffy nodded slowly, moving to go upstairs. "Buffy?" Dawn called. "Where's Willow?"

"Willow's dead," Buffy said. Her voice was dead. Dawn gasped, tears springing to her eyes.

"Oh my god," Xander whispered from the living room. His face fell into his hands as he sobbed. Buffy walked up the stairs, dropping her sword somewhere along the way. She stripped and showered without feeling it, scrubbing the blood from her skin. When she walked back to her room to dress, she pulled out an old duffel bag and started packing.

After she wrote a couple of quick letters, Buffy grabbed her bags and walked downstairs. She didn't stop when she heard her sisters and her friends calling her. She broke into a run until she got to the bus depot. Déjà vu.

"One ticket to the farthest place possible," she said. She paid for her ticket and climbed onto the bus. She never looked back.

Now was not the time to break down. She had to go to work. She finished showering and put on her glamour before going to work.

Dawn woke up early, then groaned. It would be so much easier just to stay in bed today. Buffy, Willow, and Tara had been gone a year. She visited Tara's grave often, and made the trek to Willow's every once in a while. She couldn't bring herself to forgive the witch just yet. She'd heard from her sister six months ago, telling her she was okay, but not to come look for her.

Dawnie,

I'm so sorry I left without telling you. I hope you're okay. I miss you. I love you so much, but I can't be there anymore. Is Xander taking good care of you? I hope so. If Spike ever comes back, tell him I miss him. Give my love to Giles and Anya too.

Please, Dawnie, don't try to find me, and tell the others that I don't want to be found. I'm sending this from New York, where I've been for awhile, but by the time you get this, I'll be gone. Tell Spike, if he ever comes back, not to come after me, but to stay and take care of you. I'll be fine on my own, and you guys will be better off without me.

I'm sorry, Dawnie. I love you.

Buffy.

God, it was just like her first letters all over again. She'd left one for her, one for Spike and one for Giles and Xander. She hadn't gotten to read Spike's; he kept it for himself, but she still had the letters Buffy had left for her and the remaining Scoobies.

Dawn,

I'm leaving. I'm sorry. I killed Willow. I love you. I'm proud of you. Please, take care of yourself.

Buffy.

Xander, Giles, and Anya-

I'm so sorry. I killed Willow. I had to. She was going to end the world. But I'm leaving now. I'm sorry. I can't be here anymore.

Giles and Xander- take care of Dawn for me, please. Love her like your own. There's some money, but not much. I'd like her to have the house, if you can manage it, but I understand if you have to sell it.

Anya- I know you're hurting, but please, for me, don't hurt anyone. You don't have to be a demon. You're a good person, Anya. I'm proud to have called you my friend.

Xander- you're the brother I never had, and the only one I would have chosen. I love you so much. Take care of Dawnie, please. I trust you to love her as much as I do.

Giles- You're the only father I've ever had. I'm so sorry I'm disappointing you. I wish I wasn't.

There's a letter here for Spike, too, if he ever comes back. Please, it's only for him.

Don't come after me. I don't deserve you guys. Be happy. Be safe.

I love you.

Dawn didn't know what Spike's letter had said, but it was longer than the rest and it made him cry. She'd never had the guts after he read it to ask him about it.

Dawn climbed out of bed and padded over to Spike's room. He'd started living in the Summers house when he'd come back to Sunnydale with a soul. He slept in Buffy's room now. Xander and Anya took Joyce's old room, and they'd turned Joyce's old office into a room for Giles.

"Spike?" she called quietly when she pushed open his door. The room was dark, but she could see he was sleeping. "Spike?" she tried again. This time, his eyes shot open and he sat up quickly.

"What is it, Bit? Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

"Yeah, I'm just- I miss her." Dawn was close to tears.

"Gimme a sec, Bit. Turn around," he said. Dawn did as she was told, and Spike climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants.

"Okay, Snack Pack, it's okay now." When Dawn turned back towards him, tears were openly flowing down her face. In two steps, Spike had Dawn gathered into his arms in a crushing hug.

"It's okay, Sweetheart," he purred, stroking her hair. "It's gonna be okay."

"I want to find her," she said, pulling away. The signature Summers Stubbornness was shining in her eyes, and Spike knew better than to try to argue with her.

"Okay," he said. "Do you want her to come home?"

"I just need to see her," Dawn said. "I need to know that she's okay. I just- I need to see her."

"Okay, Niblet," he said. "Then we'll find her. Lemme make a few calls, see if 'nyone's seen her, okay?"

"Yeah, guess that would be better than just running off, huh?"

"Yeah," he said. "I've got some blokes I know in New York, so let's start there." He led Dawn over to the bed, making her lay down. "Sleep now, honey."

"'Night, Spike," she murmured, her eyes already closing.

He could just bloody kill her. Running off like that, leaving her sister for the Whelp to take care of. Selfish bitch.

God, he missed her.

As he watched Dawn sleep, Spike moved over to where his old duster lay draped over a chair. He pulled two things out of the pocket. One was a picture, so worn and folded only he could really tell who it was. The other was a letter. He'd read it so many times he didn't need to anymore, but it made him feel like she was back there with him.

Dear Spike,

I miss you. I know why you left, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. You were supposed to be the one who didn't leave, William. But you did, and you broke my heart. I hate you for that.

But you know I could never really hate you, right? Not with the way you love me. I could never hate your heart, which loves so purely and so strongly. I love your heart.

I love your heart. I love your eyes. I love your stupid peroxide hair. I love the way you talk, I love the way you think. I love all those pet names you gave me. I love your courage, Spike. You're the strongest person I've ever known, so much stronger than I am. You're so much better than I am, than I ever could be.

I'm so sorry for how I treated you. I was selfish and I hurt you. I'm so sorry, Spike. You deserve to be loved so much, and I wouldn't give you that. I should have. But you scared me to death. And you were so much more alive than I was. I didn't want to be alive, because being alive meant pain. And you, Spike, would have destroyed me if I let you in. I'm so sorry, my love.

I love you. It's stupid how I can write that but I can't say it. I love you, I love you, I love you. Forever. You're my match, Spike. My equal. I could never love someone as much as I love you. Know that, baby. There will never be anyone who means as much to me as you do. You're the One.

I killed Willow, love. She was trying to end the world, and I killed her. She was my best friend until you showed up, and I shoved a sword through her gut. Her blood won't ever wash off my hands.

I have to leave, and please, baby, don't come after my. Don't try to find me. It's better for everyone if I leave. Everything I love turns to ashes, and I can't do it anymore. I can't bear to hurt anyone else, and yes, I know my leaving hurts, but they'll be better off in the long run.

Please, my love, take care of Dawn for me. She'll need you. Try to be a better parent for her than I was. And watch over my friends for me. I trust you to protect them. I believe in you.

Try to be happy, Sweetheart, even if I'm not there. And don't be afraid to fall in love again. Just because I'll never find anyone else doesn't mean you shouldn't. I love you, and I want you to be happy, Spike. I want you to smile, and laugh, and dance. Well, maybe not dance. You're not that good at it, baby.

I love you more than there are words.

Love,

Your Slayer

Spike couldn't hold back the tears as he read her letter again. Stupid bint. Thinking he could ever love after her. He'd gone and gotten his soul for her, hadn't he? Only to come back to Sunnyhell to find her gone and the lover witches dead. Warren killed Tara, Willow killed Warren, and Buffy killed Willow. Buffy had taken off, leaving Watcher Boy, Demon Girl, and the Whelp to take care of Dawn. And then there was this letter she left, along with his duster that he'd left behind. This beautiful, terrible letter. She told him she loved him. She told him he was the One. And then she asked him to stay away.

Stupid bloody woman. Didn't she realize how much he missed her? How much he needed her? He loved her so fiercely it hurt.

With another glance at Dawn's sleeping form, he left the room and went downstairs. He dialed a number he shouldn't be familiar with, and waited for the phone to ring.

"Hey Peaches?" he asked, once his sire had picked up. "I need a favor."

Chicago was a good town, not too busy and not too slow. Not like New York, where something was always happening, or like Sunnydale, where nothing happened until an apocalypse. The sun was setting as Buffy walked from her first job to her second. A few more years of working two jobs and she's have enough saved to send Dawn to college. One job to pay the bills, the other to save for her.

She kept up with the papers in Sunnydale, checking on the people she loved. Every once in awhile she would call the house, just to hear their voices. But that was hard. Especially when Spike answered. He'd known it was her, of course, and the sound of his beautiful voice begging her to talk to him broke her heart. He'd finally given up and told her what she wanted to hear: that everyone was okay, that they were happy as they could be, and that Dawn was safe. He told her he loved her and hung up. She'd cried for nearly two days after that.

She screwed a smile onto her face as she walked into Stage, the bar she worked at. A quick glamour in the bathroom and she was ready to go. She was surprised how easily the glamours came to her now. A quick chant and a wave of her hand, and she became a new person.

In Chicago they called her Amber. For a month in Cincinnati she'd been Natalie, for a week in Memphis she was Clair. In New York she was Grace, in Miami she'd been Holly, in Dallas she was Joy, and in Las Vegas she'd been Marie. It was easy to forget Buffy Summers and what she'd done when she'd spent the last year being different people. Her last names were her friends- Amber Dawn, Grace Williams, Clair Willows, Joy Maclay, Natalie Giles, Holly Jenkins, and Marie Harris. She kept them with her in any way she could.

She wore Spike's ring on her finger. A cross Giles gave her was around her neck. A picture of Willow and Xander hung on her wall, and a drawing of Dawn that Tara had done was on her desk. She even had a part of Anya in a way. Every time she put money in her pocket she thought about the quirky blonde. She missed them all so much.

"Yo, Amber, what's shakin' baby?" her coworker, Derek called.

"I ain't your baby," she drawled, stepping behind the bar. "So don't call me that."

"Aw, c'mon girl, cut the guy some slack, it's Friday!" another bartender, Amanda said, whooping. The few patrons in the bar hollered along with her. Amber smiled in spite of herself. The bar wouldn't get busy until later, but there was no reason she couldn't enjoy herself now.

"You sure 'bout this, Peaches?" he asked into the cell phone.

"Don't call me that, William," his sire ordered. "And yes, I'm sure. We tracked her from New York to Chicago. She bought a cell phone in New York in her name. She's still got it."

"An' you're sure she's workin' at this pub?"

"All of our sources say that there's an extraordinarily strong girl who works there. And since no new Slayer's been called, it's gotta be her," Angel said. "The source we found said she's brunette though."

"There is this magic thing called hair dye, ya big poof," Spike said. Dawn snorted.

"Yeah, it's your best friend, Bleach Boy," Angel retorted.

"No, she is. Now if you'll excuse me, I'ma go find my girl."

"So she's really here?" Dawn asked nervously.

"According to Tall, Dark, and Forehead, yes," Spike said, slipping the cell phone into his pocket. "An' I'm sensin' strength. Probably a Slayer."

"So, it's gotta be her, right?"

"Don' know yet, hon," he said. "'M not close enough to tell if it's a Slayer or just a demon." He glanced down at Dawn's worried face. "You got that ID, Bit?"

"Yeah," she said, fishing around in her purse for the fake ID Spike had gotten her. They walked to the door, paid their cover, and stepped inside.

The bar was like the one in that daft movie Dawn'd made him watch. What was it called? Coyote Ugly. Right. There were two guys behind the bar pouring drinks while three girls danced on top of the bar to blaring music.

"I don't see her!" Dawn cried. He didn't see her either. The girls on top of the bar looked nothing like her. One was a tall black girl, one was platinum blonde, and the other a petite brunette.

Spike slid up to the bar, holding on tightly to Dawn's hand as he did so. The song ended, and the three girls jumped down to serve drinks.

"What can I get you, honey?" the black girl asked him.

"A beer," he said. "An' a diet coke for the girl."

"Sure thing," the girl said. Spike focused his attention on the blonde. She was too tall to be Buffy, even under a glamour. The brunette though… She was a little curvier than Buffy, but she also looked better-fed. He stared at her as the black bartender handed him his drinks and he paid.

Using his vampire hearing, he listened in on the conversation she was having.

"C'mon, Amber, sing for us," a patron asked as she poured him a drink.

"You're not drunk enough to hear me sing yet, Andre," she said. It didn't sound like Buffy. Disheartened, Spike almost turned away when he noticed her wrists. On the insides, she had a tattoo on each hand. On her right was the word "Spike" in elegant script. He caught a glimpse of the left, which looked like it said "Dawn." Grinning crazily, he turned back to Dawn.

"I found her," he said. Dawn opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off when the music abruptly stopped and one of the male bartenders hopped on top of the bar.

"So Amber here's gonna sing us a little ditty," he said, offering his hand of the little brunette to take. Ignoring him, she popped into a standing front tuck, landing perfectly on top of the bar. The audience cheered impressively, and the girl tossed them a radiant grin.

"So, Amb, what are you gonna sing?" the bartender asked.

"Your Guardian Angel," she said into the mic he held.

"Is this one of yours?" he asked.

"Nah, it's Camille's, but she wrote it for me."

"What's it about?"

"Uh, it's about a guy." The girl blushed. The crowd hooted appreciatively.

"His name? Please say Derek," the guy said. The crowd laughed. Spike glowered.

"Nah, I haven't been dropped on my head recently." Oohs went around. "His name- his name's William."

"Lucky bastard," Derek said. He sighed dramatically and offered her the mic. "Knock 'em dead, girl."

Hearing her sing almost convinced him this wasn't Buffy. She sounded nothing like she had in Sunnydale during the musical spell. And yet, he knew it was her. He was positive when he looked into green eyes he'd recognize anywhere. She stopped singing.

"I've got to go. I'm sorry," she said, dropping the mic and vaulting off the bar. She pushed her way out the door. By the time Spike and Dawn made it outside, she was gone.

Buffy threw everything she owned into her luggage. The luggage when into the back of the beat-up Jeep she'd bought and figured out how to drive. A quick note and enough cash to cover her last month's rent were stuffed under her landlord's door. Without a look behind her, Buffy took off to become someone else.

~tbc~