Angsty Spander for sevendeadlyfun
In Memoriam
“Were you just going to leave? Not even say goodbye?”
Spike dropped his half-packed bag and turned. Aw, bugger. Dawn stood in the entrance of the apartment, arms crossed, frustration creasing her brow.
He sighed. “I have to, Bit. ‘S nothing left for me here.”
She crossed the room and began folding his shirts with jerky movements. “What about us? You have us, don’t you?”
‘What about me?’ hung in the air, heavy, unsaid, pregnant.
Spike tugged the shirt from her hands gently and tipped her face up. Her eyes were still red from the funeral.
“Don’t you?” she repeated miserably.
“Shh, luv,” he soothed, stroking her hot cheek with his thumb. “Yeah, I got you. But everything in this shite town reminds me of Xan.”
“They’re good memories,” she said stubbornly.
He let go, wheeled away violently. His hands covered his face shakily. “Memories of what I don’t have anymore.”
“Spike,” Dawn said softly.
He tried to laugh. It came out a sob. “Don’t you get it, Bit? This whole sodding town is haunting me. Our apartment-I smell him everywhere. I can’t go anywhere. I keep thinking he’s just around the corner. Two days,” he said harshly, waving his hand. “Two days and I’m already going mad. Any longer and I’ll be worse than Dru.”
Dawn laid her hand tentatively on his skinny back. He flinched, leaned into it. She moved closer and rubbed his shoulders gently.
“What do you want me to tell the others?” she asked.
His head dropped. “Tell them…tell them that the Big Bad’s moving on. And not to ask Peaches to look for me, ‘cos I’m going to go it alone for a while. Right?”
“Okay,” she agreed. Quiet. Sad.
He took an unsteady breath and faced her again, kissed her forehead. “You’re the best, Niblet.”
Dawn gave him a tiny smile and reached for his shirts again. “Don’t do anything too stupid,” she said.
“’M an impulsive vampire, Bit,” he protested, grateful for the humor. “I won’t know if it’s stupid until it’s too late.”
She shook her head and handed him his bag. “Will you come back to visit me sometime?” she asked sadly.
He took the bag in one hand and hugged her around the shoulders with his free arm. “Don’t know.” ‘Don’t count on it.’ “We’ll see, yeah?” He handed her the key to the apartment. “This place has too much history to go to some poor fuck looking for a nice apartment. ‘S yours now. Take care of it, right?”
She squeezed the little key tight in her hand. “I will. I promise.”
He smiled at her and walked out the door. “I know you will.”
**
He parked the DeSoto at a rest stop a couple hundred miles down the highway. The sky was turning the ripe purple-blue of predawn. He climbed onto the roof of the car and pulled the bent, black and white photo of the two of them from his pocket.
Xan. Love you. Stupid, brave, loyal human. Wish I could’ve saved you.
He shivered and remembered his Xan’s words from one night, months ago. ‘I know we don’t have forever. I promise, when I…go…I’ll wait for you on the other side.’
The very edge of the horizon glowed with a faint yellow light.
“’S not stupid, Bit,” he murmured. “It’s the best thing I could do.”
As the sun rose steadily, Spike faced the light and smiled.