Disclaimer: Joss owns, and I don't. so no need to sue me.
Rating: Strong R for language
Author's Notes: Ok, yeah this is pure angst.but I dreamt about this, and since Buffy's the boss. I let her say what she wanted to;) Hey, I'm a victim to my muse!
WARNING: if you don't like Buffy angst and darkness and all that psycho stuff. don't read this. Save us all the time and trouble and skip over this fic. Thanks;)
Timeline: Somewhere during the End of Days fight.
Muzak: Listen to Holly McNarland "cry or come", "elmo", "water"

I always knew that Angel was made up of need. Need to love me, need to not hurt me. He was empty with it, full with it. bursting at the seams with such a raging need. Need for darkness, blood, heaviness. He infected me with the need.

I always knew I was diseased. I used to dream that I had cancer. Did you know that? At night sometimes when Riley was next to me, his big body close to mine on the white sheets, I'd dream. That cells were growing inside me. Vicious cells that were spreading, down my tummy and thighs, into my back and up into my lungs. They were clinging to my insides like black hatred, choking my heart and I'd dream and scream and wish. someone would wake up and hear me. But Riley never did.

You're laughing. Yeah, I guess it's true. He never heard anything. I knew that. So. I did know it! And I didn't care.

What? Did Angel hear me? Yeah, of course he did. He knew what was wrong with me, he knew what was right with me. I sometimes thought he had a window inside my fucked up soul and could view it all. he'd look at me with those lost eyes and everything would be better. But he didn't stay, and I sometimes believed that it hurt him too much- being able to see me. Truly see me. I guess he was scared I was going to fall off the pedestal.

What? Oh shut up. You know he had me on a pedestal. He did, and I liked it. I loved it. So what? Does that make me a bad person? I always thought it might have. liking that idolatry, that love he had inside him, swelling up around his dead heart for me. When I fell. when he found out I was screwing Riley's brains out. he couldn't take it. I think it killed him. cause maybe he thought I'd stay pure forever. Yeah, so I had needs. I wanted to forget, and so did he.

I cared when I found out about Darla. Oh God, no I'm not stupid. I knew they didn't love each other. She was there and he needed something to stop feeling the cold. So he fucked her, and it hurt me. Deep inside. the way it would if someone cut off my air. If someone stuck a sword down into my lower stomach and let it stay there. I would dream about that to. the way it hurt when I found out. The way they must have looked- on the bed.

Do I think he stopped loving me? No. He never did. He just took me off the pedestal and let me be real and it wasn't enough, I guess. Oh stop pretending to care. I can see through you. Yeah, I can and there's nothing. Whatever, you never cared. You did? Sure, sure.

I was under him since I laid eyes on him. I was under his boot and his big eyes and blood.

He kicked me in the face often enough. I kicked back to. And we did that for a long time. I wanted the dirt beneath his feet, the air around him. I wanted to live inside him. in his arms. Oh fuck off. so what if that's pathetic. I died when he left. I fucking well died, and he knew and I knew. What was it like when we did it? Oh you pervert. are you getting off on this? Fine. you want to know? It's not like I have anything better to do.

It was sweet. It was my first. And my last, I think. He tasted like rain and Angel. I used to have daydreams about his hands, slick with my sweat, when they ran over my breasts and he touched me like I was God. Or something to be worshipped. He whispered to me. Things that I couldn't understand, cause they were too much. It was always too much with us. Too much pain, too much love, too much fire and passion and all that shit that is supposed to exist only in those crappy romance books.

When he was inside me I think I stretched to fit around him and it didn't even hurt. Yes, I was a virgin, you fucker. You know that. I don't know why it didn't hurt. Maybe because he made me open for him. maybe because it was too beautiful to hurt. Or maybe the pleasure I loved was really pain. And I just couldn't tell. But there wasn't any warning about what was to come. None at all.

Did I expect one? Well, wouldn't you? I thought I might know if my boyfriend was going to turn evil. But that's the funny thing. what we did. it didn't even hurt. Fucking Powers that Be. I hate them. They gave me him and they took him away. I lost him to them, and they played the game so much better than me.

Do I miss him? Yes, don't you? When he was with me, I could see the way things were supposed to be. The way things could be. I miss that. He made me dream of better tomorrows, and since I knew I wouldn't have many. it was important to me. I can see it behind my eyelids, you know. What we had. what he had. That light that seemed to glow from him. emanate and touch me everywhere, seep into my pores and creep around me. Like vines.

I don't know where he is now. Well, how am I supposed to? I scattered his ashes over the ocean. what? Yes, he would have wanted that. It was a last thank you. a last gesture. I wanted him to be free to wander. I wanted that for him. to be able to roam all the places he never saw. that he never cherished. He can walk in the sunlight now, and so can I. So what if he's dead. he was always dead. Now he's just moved on. to some other dream. That makes me laugh. It's all a dream. It is. cause I don't see how anyone can call this living. Maybe they don't. maybe they call it dying slowly. I never told him thank you, you know. Thank you for being with me on all those patrols and for kissing me breathless, and for being who you were. Thank you for making me who I am. Thank you for leaving me. thank you, you bastard. I love you, and thank you. No. no. it's blurry. Stop shouting. what? Yes, you are shouting.

Are there birds up there? In the sky? Is there one with dark eyes? . I hear it singing. I hear him calling.

~~~

Whistling softly under his breath, the vampire covered the fallen warrior with his leather jacket, a last homage to a woman he had fought, and loved, for years. The blood from her split belly pooled into the snow around her slight figure, turning it as red as the sunrise.

"Bye Summers," Spike whispered and ignoring the faint burn in his eyes, he spun around and walked away. There was no looking back. The Slayer was gone

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