My love is cruel as the night
She steals the sun, and shuts out the light
All of my colours, they turn to blue
Win or lose

The Dark Shades II: Cruel as the Night

I'm losing my mind. I'm not even *old* enough to lose my mind. And yet, like one of those Anne Rice vampires, I think, unfortunately, I'm growing a conscience...and I hate it. I haven't killed for fun since the night she left me. I haven't even fed on any "innocents" as those pathetic, weepy novels call them. Not that I read them, of course.

I haven't seen her. Not really. Dreams don't count, and neither do visions. Back to Sunnyhell I went, looking for my ducky, wandering the streets at night, feeling oddly out of place. I thought I heard laughter, thought I saw the swirl of a dress around a corner, thought I could *feel* my Dru nearby. I call her name out, alone in the alley, talking to the cold walls and getting no answer.

I don't even know if she's here. If she made it back here after she left me. The night that happened I drove the same route we had taken, keeping an eye on the side of the road for her, not seeing anything. But the further I drove, the closer I got, the more my mind took on the delusion of a liar who believes in himself.

The hurt, the pain, the frustration at realizing that she no longer needed me faded; its vacancy soon filled by an even greater pain at realizing she no longer *wanted* me. She was...is...my world. How can I lose her? How can I lose her without losing myself? She has defined who I am, she has molded me over the years into a possession of hers; and though I was the stronger one physically, she still held the power to wrap me around her finger.

I want to dance with her in the moonlight, feel her arms around me and know her thoughts are only about me. But she's slippery and I can't hold onto her; though there's nothing in the world that would make me want to let go.

I stand in this deserted ally and watch time pass. The ground is wet and littered; the pathetic night life of this wretched excuse for a town has nearly died out and feeding opportunities are dwindling.

Not like it bloody matters, I mumble to myself. The Vampire Lestat.

No wait...its Louis. Not that I know who they are, of course.

I shake my head. "Pathetic," I mumble.

"Yes, my Spike, it is."

I feel her words cut through me, freezing me like a cold gale. At first I fear I am having a heart attack, like a mortal fool. But its only heartache, as I turn to face the one I've searched for, longed for, dreamt of.

"Dru..." It's merely a whisper, an acknowledgement. I don't, can't, accuse her of anything.

"The trees spoke into the wind," she begins. Her eyes catch mine and I am lost in her again, drawn in by the spell she can weave just through her hypnotic babble. "They said you were here...and the wind called out to me. I came to you, ever so softly; and I watched you."

"And what have you seen, ducky?" Outside I am cool and collected, the same old Spike. Inside though, I think I'm about to burst.

She laughs. "So many things...lots and lots! Lots of bad things..." She hugs her arms and pouts, a tortured child. And that's really all she is.

I go and hold her. "What bad things, my pet?" I ask, and all animosity I feel towards her for leaving me for that bastard dissipates.

"No...not the bad things first...the bad never go first. The bad is last, always and forever, because the bad always destroys!" She is shaking, her nails clawing into me, deeper; always deeper.

I stroke her soft hair, noticing how silky it is; it never ceases to amaze me no matter how many times I have done it. "It's alright, luv; tell me."

"The Slayer lives behind my eyelids; she went far, far away but she's still so close..." Dru rubs her face against my shoulder. I'm distracted by the feel of her, so close...

No. I push her slightly away. "Can you see where she is, Dru?"

"Mmmmm..." She starts swaying, back and forth, humming. "There are palm trees and they move like this. It's the wind that makes them move...the wind makes us all move."

Palm trees. I remember Angel telling us she was from L.A. "Is it Los Angeles, my pet?" I stroke her face to get her to stop swaying.

"No, no." She nuzzles me again, then continues in that voice that sounds like she's caught between memories and dreams, "it's far, and they have cows in the sea."

I take a moment to figure this out. "Sea-cows, Dru? Manatees?"

"Yes, Spike. But they don't moo..."

"Where is it, darling?"

She looks up at me again and gives me that evil smile that shows off her fangs. "There's a moon over it; but there's no man in the moon, and that makes me sad..."

There's a bloody lightbulb going off over my head. "Miami? Dru, is she is Miami?"

Dru meows her assent. She really *is* far away. My mind wanders off to think about Buffy, a subject it lately has taken to quite often. Drusilla's whimpers bring me back to reality. "The bad things, Spikey...the bad things!"

"Yes, dear." I cradle her even tighter. "Tell me about them."

She is shivering again. "I felt so cold. It was dark here, dark in me, without the one I love. My heart hurt me, and my body wept."

I'm nearly swelling with joy. She missed me; she couldn't live without me just as I couldn't live without her. I kiss her, but she pulls away, and looks at me, an almost pleading in her eyes. I stroke her back.

"But whispers in my mind, Spike, whispers; they spoke to me of him." My hand ceases its movement. "I feel him under us...he is in torment...he is in Hell." She separates herself from me and I make no move to catch her. My hand flies to my head as I try to keep my shock from alchemizing into anger.

"My poor dark Angel!" she cries out, loudly, wailing. "But he will return to me...I have heard the whispers." She clutches at me, at my jacket. I tear away from her and lean against one of the buildings. I feel her hand on the back of my head. "My Spike," she drawls, "what's the matter?"

What's the matter? What's the bloody matter? She doesn't even know! She doesn't even realize it!

There's a cool trickle down my cheek. It's not until the coolness reaches the corner of my mouth that I realize I am crying.

I haven't cried since before I became a vampire.

"Are you sad for Angel? Don't worry...Mummy's got a plan. I'll get him out of Hell. It'll be...magic!" Her words grate me further and further and I kick the wall in frustration. Anger. Despair. A million different emotions.

I'll be damned if I'll let her get to me like this. "You do that, Dru. You go ahead and get your little Angel back." I say flippantly, as though inside I'm not torn and ripped. "Bring him back. Then it'll be the three of us and we can be a family again."

Dru spun in a circle, not picking up on my sarcasm. "Four, Spike! You're forgetting Miss Edith!" She laughed and threw her arms around me. I slide out of her grasp without making it too obvious.

"Can't forget her, now can we, luv?" Sometimes I swear that the damn doll is the most important person in her life. I'll admit it was cute at first, but after a century it gets a bit bloody old.

She is spinning around in the alley, giddy with the excitement of bringing Angel back. She is dancing, as though there were someone else with her. Her humming and the tap of her heels on the pavement the only sound, and as I watch her dance, I know she is thinking of him in her arms. I don't have visions and clairvoyance has never been my forte; but she is a part of me. I know her so well.

And it is him in her arms, not me.

continued with PART 3