Short Spike POV (no AtS spoilers)
The world is turning to dust around him, and it's him that's doing it. He laughs, though his throat is flooded with light and there's no sound. He's happy for the first time in years; feels like himself, for the first time in three years. No, for the first time since that London alleyway. He thinks he might cry, but sorrow really doesn't have a place in this inferno.
The ceiling is collapsing, and he feels the floor begin to give. Hopes Buffy made it out all right. Knows now she doesn't love him - not the way he wanted - but that's ok, too. She's strong, she'll come through it. She always has.
His body crumbles, but there's no longer any pain, just a brilliant sense of weightlessness, that he thinks might be the front door to heaven. Heaven or no, he can't help the last little petty thought from slipping in. His face dissolves in a smirk of satisfaction, because he has something Angel doesn't: Redemption.