New Beginnings

     I'm still sitting here, and everything looks the
same.  It's only been two weeks since it happened, but
the whole world has faded to an ever dimming gray, the
same color as the stone that now sits above her.  Even
though I'm the eternal optimist, I knew this day was
coming.  To be honest, we all did.  I guess we just
kept putting it from our minds, thinking if we didn't
think of it, it wouldn't happen.  We were wrong, of
course.  The granite at my back is proof enough of
that.  If I concentrate, I can feel the words through
the thin cotton of my tank top.  It used to be hers.
I had to put it on so I could still feel her, be close
to her.  Great, the tears again.  They've come in and
endless flow since then.  That and the pain, I should
have stopped it.
Since that night I've been coming here.  Like
clockwork, I leave my house as soon as twilight begins
to fall.  I double check my baddie bag, making sure
I've got all the anti-vamp agents.  I couldn't make
them hurt more because of me, and I know that's all my
death would do.  Otherwise, I might just invite it.
I've been so alone since she died.  The others have
leaned on each other, using what strength they all
have left to hold themselves up.  The last time I saw
any of them was a week ago.  I tried to fall back into
the group, make it like it had always been.  I
couldn't do it.  After a week of watching everyone
pretend to smile, try to make it ok, I just couldn't
do it anymore.  I knew the smiles weren't real, nor
were the constant ramblings that it would be ok.  I
can't imagine my life without her, my best friend, my
confidante, my sister.  The only family I had.  I want
to help, hold little Dawnie close and try to fix her,
but I have to fix myself first.  I have to figure out
how to drag myself up out of this pit I've dug.  I
wish I understood how to stop it.  I just can't shake
the image of her at that moment from my head.  It was
almost like she was flying, just for that second,
suspended above us all.  The landing didn't knock the
smile from her face.  A tiny but blissful upturn of
her lips.  The life was gone before she even hit.
I curl my arms around my knees, trying to hold myself
together.  Maybe if I ball myself up, it'll be easier
for the pieces to find their way back to where they
belong.  I take a deep breath, noticing the scent of
rain in the air.  It's coming soon, stealing in on the
cooling breeze.  I lower my head to my knees and hope
the rain can wash it all away.
"Here again?"
I look up, startled, but I'd recognize that voice
anywhere.  I open my eyes and notice black.  Boots,
jeans, T-shirt, duster, all black.  Finally I meet
blue eyes as haunted as my own.
"Yeah."
"Why do you come here every night?"
"Same reason you do I'd imagine."
He lowers himself to the ground beside me.  This is
the closest he's ever come.  Usually I leave when I
sense him, but I just missed him tonight.  He pulls
out a flask and takes a long drink, and then offers it
to me.  I take it from him and take a hit of my own.
Liquid fire burns its way down my throat.  I welcome
the fire, it takes my mind away from other things.
"It's going to rain," I say.
He takes the flask from my hand and makes a
noncommittal grunt, those piercing blue eyes turn to
the sky.
"Yeah, it is."
I rest my chin on my knees again, staring at nothing
in particular.  Spike, who I think has had a bit more
to drink than I have, leans over and rests his head on
my shoulder.  Ah, contact, haven't had much of that in
the past few weeks.  I seriously doubt he has either.
As if to confirm my thoughts, he scoots closer, until
our sides are touching.  I lean into him, welcoming
this reprieve from being alone.
"She wouldn't have wanted this, ya know?", he says,
those long fingers skimming up my back to play with my
hair.
"What's that?", I ask, trying to ignore the sensation
of being touched like this.
"She wouldn't have wanted us to shut down like this.
She'd want us to stay strong and go on living. She
didn't die just so we could die along with her.  I'll
lay bets she didn't know it would be this soddin'
hard."
I just nod.  I know he's right.  I've felt it myself.
 She's moved on, to a better place, somewhere that she
doesn't have to go out and fight every night.  I can
feel it down in my bones.  His face has turned into my
neck now.  I realize I should probably be wigged, what
with the vampire with his face buried in my throat.
But I know better, Spike wouldn't hurt me now.  Not
after everything we've been through.
"I can smell her," it comes out as a low rumble,
sounding slightly confused.  It shakes my body and
sends shivers down my spine.
"This is her shirt," I don't elaborate, he doesn't
need to know the reason I took the vast majority of
her clothes back to the apartment I once shared with
Tara.  Funny enough, he just nods, apparently content
to let me have my eccentricities.
"Red, if I asked you to do me a favor, would you?"
"Maybe," I say, not sure what he's going to ask.
"Could we maybe get out of this graveyard, go
somewhere less depressing?"
I'm a little shocked at the request, but agree whole
heartedly.  Sitting here on this sad mound of dirt
isn't making anything better, nor will it bring her
back.  I sigh softly.
"We can go back to my apartment.  There's no one
there."
He just nods and helps me off the ground.  Never have
I been so glad he's not all full of questions.  I
haven't told anyone yet that Tara decided life on the
mouth of hell was just too much for her.  She's moved
back home, with her family, and going to a community
college up there.  I doubt any of us will ever see her
again.  Strangely, it doesn't hurt as much as I
expected it to.  Sure there's pain, she's gone, but
not the deep soul wrenching kind that I experienced
when Oz left.  After I got her mind back, everything
was different.  She couldn't look at me or at anyone
else.  So I knew it was coming, even before it
happened.  She left the night I stopped going to the
Scooby meetings.  I watched her go and couldn't even
cry for her.
The whole way to my apartment, Spike doesn't speak a
word.  We just walk in silence, me with my head
against his side, him with his arm around my waist,
holding me close.  We reach my home after a few short
minutes.  For once the door to the two bedroom loft
doesn't look so foreboding.  And thankfully, I can't
seem to smell the stench of life gone wrong.  I can't
figure out why, but somehow it feels right just to
have Spike with me.  Strange, I never thought we were
friends.  I pull the keys from my pocket and unlock
the door, inviting him in, as he's never been here
before.
He pulls his jacket from his shoulders, and puts it
in the closet, cocking one eyebrow at the fact that
most of Buffy's coats are in that same closet.  I
don't grant him an answer.  He'll figure it out.  I'm
sure he has some slayer memorabilia of his own.
"Would you like something to drink?", I ask, wanting
to take his mind off the vision the closet had
wrought.
"I'm fine."
I just nod and sit on the couch, fanning out my hand,
indicating he should take a seat as well.  Much to my
surprise, instead of settling on one of the chairs or
even the little love seat, he sits next to me, his
thigh touching mine.
"Alright, Red, now for that favor."
I know my expression is surprised, but I can't wipe
it from my face.  "What?  I thought the favor was to
go somewhere other than the graveyard."
"Why would I ask that as a favor, that's more of just
a strait forward question."  That brow is quirked
again.  Suddenly I feel stupid.  He's right of course.
"Ok . . . so what's the favor then."
Suddenly he's looking at my drapes, the lamp,
anywhere but at me.  Oh this is a wonderful sign.  He
usually doesn't do this unless he wants one of us to
do something he knows damn well we don't want to do.
I'm just about to call him on it when he answers my
question.
"Well, you know that I had some feelings for Buffy."
I nod, knowing he's not had the chance the rest of us
have to get it off of our chests.  No one offered
Spike a shoulder to cry on, and now all of a sudden I
feel really bad.
"Well, I was just wondering, do you know if it hurt
when she fell."
My mind blanks out as I try to find the correct
response to give him.  His face is contorted in what
is easily recognized as pain.  I can feel the tears
trying to find hold in my own eyes, but I push them
back with more strength than I've had in a long time.
I raise my hand towards him, rather embarrassed to
find it shaking.  It finds purchase atop one of his
own, and I squeeze, hoping to reassure him.
"Um, I don't think so, Spike.  She was . . . ," My
voice catches, and I have to wait a few seconds before
I can continue, "she was smiling."
The tears are leaking out no matter how hard I push
now.  Just slowly, but I know they're coming.  I'm
confronted with those eyes again, this time fairly
seething in the pain I know he must be feeling.  But
at least there's a light behind them.  I think it must
help to think she didn't hurt.  That's one of the few
things that have kept me from coming unglued.
"That's good," he sounds broken, "I didn't know who
to ask.  None of the others will let me anywhere near
them."
Again I nod, understanding, even though my dilemma is
one of my own making.
"So the favor?", I ask, still wondering what this
whole thing is about.
"Well, I know your witch left."
I look at him in shock.  How did he know, I hadn't
told anyone.
"I heard you the night she left.  You were walking
out of the cemetery and talking to yourself.  I
followed you home, because you didn't seem to be in a
state to take care of yourself."
I just continue staring at him, unable to believe
that this man could be so observant.  Guess that's why
he made a hell of an enemy.
"I was wondering if your spare room is taken?"
Again with the surprise.  Damn, I was definitely not
expecting this.  Stupid vampires and their sneak
attacks.  But all in all, it doesn't sound like a bad
plan, having someone to talk to, hold on to, all of
it.  Maybe this summer won't be so lonely after all.
"No, why were you interested?"
I try to keep the hope from my eyes, in case that's
not what he meant at all.  You never can tell with
Spike.  His moods are fairly mercurial.  And now he's
smiling.  Not one of those I'm going to kill you
smiles, just a regular smile.  He looks happy.  I can
feel the same grin creeping over my own face.
"Yeah, actually, I was."
"When do you want to move in?" I know I'm grinning
like an idiot now, but I'm just overjoyed at the
thought of having someone, anyone, to talk to.
"How about now?  We can get the rest of my stuff
later, I'll grab my clothes and such tomorrow.  Can we
just sit around and watch the Tele?"
With but a flick of my wrist the t.v. is on and tuned
to a show that I enjoy.  I hand him the remote, just
in case he wants to change the channel.  I don't
really care what's on, just as long as that little
smile stays on his face.  Oh and that arm that's crept
around me stays in place.  Maybe the gang was right.
It might just get better after all.

The End

back