Chapter Summary: This chapter starts off at what will be a part of the end of the story during a rewrite of the episode "Becoming". Once you read it, you'll understand what I mean. Please be aware that this is a major cliffhanger. It is a teaser to the story, giving you a glimpse into how some things will be at some point. Towards the end of the chapter we go back to the "present" time of the story's beginning.

"Spike!" Buffy yelled over the din of the swirling vortex in the middle of the room. Her voice shook with pain and panic. She clutched her swollen abdomen as if she was trying to keep something inside of her.

Spike dusted another minion of Angelus'. He was checking to be sure Drusilla was still unconscious when he heard Buffy's scream. He ran to her place in front of Acathla. He stepped over the crumpled form of his Sire, Angelus.

"It's trying to pull the baby from me." Buffy tried to step back from the portal. The vortex pulled stronger at her body the further away she moved. So, she stepped closer again. "It's taking me with him!"

"That wasn't part of the deal." Spike growled. "Bloody prophecies." He wrapped his arms around Buffy's waist from behind. Holding her tight against his chest, he tried moving away from the gate to Hell.

Buffy screamed as they moved. "Spike! Stop!" She openly wept in his arms. "We don't have much time." She continued to sob. So much had happened in the last few months. She didn't want to leave her friends or family, but she especially didn't want to leave Spike behind.

"I won't let it take you, damn it." Spike stepped between Buffy and the statue. "You don't deserve to go to Hell."

Angel stirred beside the couple. A sad puppy dog face stared up at Buffy and Spike. "Buffy? What's going on?" He slowly stood up halfway to face Buffy and Spike. "Where are we? Everything's all so muddled. I feel like I haven't seen you in months."

"After all that Willow got the spell to finally work when it was too late." Buffy let Spike hold her while she cried. She ignored Angel completely. The roar from the vortex grew louder as the portal opened wider. "I have to close it. It needs me." She tried to side step Spike. I'm the pregnant Slayer."

"It needs your blood, pet." Spike stopped Buffy from going around him. "It's always about blood." He thought back on the prophecy they studied for the last several months.

The word pregnant finally seeped into Angel's addled and confused mind. "Pregnant? Just what is going on? Why are you letting him touch you?" He pointed to Spike, but he yelled at Buffy.

"We're saving the world from your ever so whacked out and soulless self you ungrateful git." Spike answered in irritation. 'Think Spike. What did the prophecy say about blood?'

Angel lunged for Spike's legs from his now half crouched over position. Before he made contact, a pointy-toed boot connected with his chin. His head snapped back from the force of the blow. He fell to the floor at Spike's feet unconscious.

"That's it!" Spike exclaimed. "The blood of life within the womb will halt the beast from bursting in gloom. It needs the blood of a pregnant Slayer, not all of you."

"I'm the only one who has my blood, Spike. I don't see the diff …" Buffy's sentence was cut off by the growl of a Master Vampire intent on his purpose just before he sunk his fangs into her neck.

Spike tried not to see the shocked look of horror and disappointment on Buffy's face when he dove for her neck. He hoped she would understand later why he did it. 'If the bloody statue wants her blood, I'll give it to him.' He drank deeply of her life's essence. He wasn't sure how much blood was needed. He had to make sure he had enough to take her place but not enough to harm their child.

Acathla's portal inched across the room closer to the embraced couple. Buffy cried and moaned in confusion. She felt the weakness encompass her with each pull of her blood. 'After all we've been through, why would he kill me now?' She drifted closer into unconscious. The softly spoken words from Spike's lips, now free of her neck, kept her holding onto consciousness just a little bit longer.

Spike cradled Buffy in his arms. Tears tracked down his face while he caressed his fingers through her hair. He knelt down on the floor a few feet from their previous position so that he could lay her down. He leaned down to whisper into Buffy's ear, "Tell our son that it was worth it. Let him know that I loved him enough to give up my unlife for you both."

Buffy's eyes widened. She was too weakened to move, and it killed a part of her when she wasn't able to stop the press of his soft lips against hers one last time or keep him from leaving. She tried to sit up, but she only made it up as far as resting on her elbows.

Spike cupped Buffy's cheek. "Please don't forget me. I love you, Buffy." He looked up in time to see the Scoobies rushing into the main room. He stood up and faced them. "Take care of her."

No one had a moment to stop Spike from turning around, and taking four steps forward, to face Acathla once more. He extended his arms open wide to accept his fate. Fate could be cruel sometimes, but at least Buffy would be there for their child. He'd fight to find some way to watch over them from the beyond, even if he had to bribe the devil to do it.

Acathla flashed brightly. The pulse of the sucking vortex being closed whooshed through the room and knocked Buffy completely flat to the ground. It brought the standing Scoobies to their knees.

When the room returned to normal lighting Buffy started to sob. She crawled towards Acathla with what little strength she had left. She beat on the stone surface with wounded hands. She cried out, "No," over and over again until Giles and Joyce physically moved her away from the statue.

"Easy, baby," Joyce held Buffy in her lap just like she had when Buffy was a younger child. She tried to soothe her daughter's broken heart, but she only ended up adding her own tears to Buffy's. "It will be all right. Somehow, it will be all right."

A dusty black Desoto roared into Sunnydale. The driver deliberately crashed into the "Welcome To Sunnydale" sign on the outskirts of town. Loud rock music blasted from the car. Even with the doors and windows closed, the steady bass beat and rhythms were heard.

With a loud and annoying squeak, the heavy driver's side door opened. The music grew even louder, breaking the silence of the somewhat peaceful night on the Hellmouth. One black boot followed another onto the asphalt. A long black leather duster stopped just shy of the driver's ankles.

He strutted away from the car door, slamming it shut behind him. His surefooted steps led a body that sauntered with confidence and power to in front of the car. He looked back and forth over his surroundings before he turned back to face the car.

This was no ordinary man. A raised forehead, accentuated cheekbones and brow ridges told the story of a creature of the night. A man doomed to walk in darkness until the day of his final death. Bleached blonde hair topped off a pale, but handsome face. His physique and stature were enough to make any woman swoon at the sight of him. He radiated allure, power, and a bad boy image that made most want to beg him to take them with him.

A low breathless rumble caressed the vampire's lips and throat. He flicked open his lighter and brought it up to the cigarette hanging from his lips. He lit the tip, inhaling the nicotine deeply. It wasn't something he needed, but it was a habit he enjoyed.

The man, still in full vampiric visage flicked the lighter closed. He took a long drag from the cigarette. The tip flared red like a beacon in the darkness. A rough British accent drifted through the air when he spoke. "Home. Sweet. Home." His mouth turned into a smirk. His firm cheekbones became more pronounced as the smirk grew. He blew out a line of smoke through his nose. It only served to make his smirk look that much more foreboding.

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