Summary: A final thought
Disclaimers: All Joss, All ME, all the time.
Author's Notes: Just a few words before bed... unbetaed.
With a shriek of metal, the sign welcoming all comers to Sunnydale rocked and fell in after the town.
And suddenly, she realized what it reminded her of.
What *he* reminded her of.
High school biology class. Worms in jars. Fuzzy homes. And one day...
Spike had been dead for a hundred years, but she'd seen his birth today. Ever since he'd been implanted with the chip, he'd been changing into something new. She hadn't realized it for a long time. Hadn't wanted to. But since he'd come back, she'd seen it. Seen him growing, changing.
She'd tried to tell Giles. Tried to tell all of them.
Maybe her communication skills really did just suck.
Today, she'd seen it happen. Seen him begin as he was about to end. Seen *him*. What he'd finally accomplished. What he'd *done*.
And she'd loved him for it.
Sometimes last year, before he'd gone away, she'd sensed things in him that she wished she still had. Power. Passion. The ability to just take the risk and jump - even if he fell and broke to pieces.
After he'd left the way he did, she hadn't thought he'd come back. Not after what he'd done. But he surprised her. Just as he always had. Risking the fall. For no good reason other than it was what he did.
She didn't expect him to come back because he'd known what he'd done was wrong. Even as shocked and angry as she'd been when it happened, she'd seen it in his eyes. She *knew*.
But he *had* come back. And even though she was still angry, and later supremely frustrated, it seemed... right... for him to return. Because he never ran from anything. Not really. He might run from the fight, but never from the war.
Because somehow she'd known that he was... well, more.
And she'd been right. In the end, he'd been everything. More than she'd ever expected.
She was sorry that he hadn't believed she loved him, but even that had taken nothing from him. No power on earth could ever take anything from him again. He'd burned with strength. With goodness.
She'd tried to tell Giles. That he could be a good man. But she'd been the only one who could see it.
It didn't matter. She'd been right. She'd been right.
Voices swirled around her. She could barely make out Giles' hesitant tone, Xander's forced humor, Willow's sense of awe, Faith's confusion. She was hearing another voice in her head. Clear. Sure.
It made her smile.