I must warn you that this piece is un-betaed and extremely ruff, I haven't written anything other than poetry in a long time and I would openly welcome anyone with corrections or suggestions.
Author: Bee or Windandsummer
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own ideals,if I did I wouldn't be sharing this for free. XD
Distribution: Just tell me where please
Warnings: Contains high levels of angst and mentions character death.
In the quite hours between late at night and early morning he can almost imagine that it never happened. That these last four years were the same as any other. And that the crack in his heart wasn’t really there. It was in those thrilling few hours that he could pretend that when he got up he would go to the Magic box, put his arms around his girls and everything would be alright. But the hours past all too soon, dawn arrived stilling away his small piece of denial and forcing him to realize that it really did happen and he really was alone.
The shrill sound of an alarm clock forced him to move from the bed and into the shower, where the blistering pain from the overly hot shower helped soothed some of the edges. Moving as if by strings he made himself ready and headed to work. It was months since anyone bothered to ask him if he was alright anymore. After thousands of empty replies, and millions of shrugs people seem to just stop asking. Not that that didn’t notice the vacancy that had set up shop behind his once friendly eyes.
When he first attempted to go back to work, and the questioning had begun he had been too hurt to consider forming his pain into words. Later he had considered answering but he figured that talking about it would only bring the pain fresh, and finally near the end he was too lost to talk about anything. Now he was a zombie that pretended to live his life, and tried desperately to forget it.
Deep in the recess of his mind he questioned whether or not it had all been worth it. Whether getting a glimpse at real joy for a few years was worth knowing what it was to not have it. He shoved those questions away, berating himself for thinking that he would have made any other choice if he had to do it again. How could he with any amount of knowledge look his love and the eye and tell him that he didn’t want him, that he didn’t want what time they could have.
He thought that moving away to a different city, to a different state would ease the pain of loss he felt every morning waking up in the apartment they once shared, of every night when he went to sleep in the bed they once made love in. When he told the girls he was going they had understood, they had asked him not to go but they understood why he had to. At first they had tried calling him everyday just to see how he was, but eventually the calls became less, and then one day hardly at all.
Once he had tried to call them, but hearing that their lives were normally happy, well at least as much as the could be on the hell mouth had hurt too fiercely. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for them, Buffy finally settling down with Riley, Anya and Giles finally tying the knot, and his girl Wills looking for a spell so that her and Tara could have a baby. But part of him screamed that it wasn’t fair, that he should get a more or less happy ending too. That he shouldn’t have to imagine the look on his loves face right as he turned to dust every time he closed his eyes. So he threw himself into work, and prayed that one day he wouldn’t feel as if the best option open to him was dying.
Months passed, then seasons, and soon years. He got cards, and pictures in the mail, phone calls on birthdays and letters begging him to come home to them. But he couldn’t come home, not when home had disappeared in a few short seconds along one stiff breeze. Holidays came, and they wanted to visit. Tara was due any day and they wanted him there, but their happiness only made his loss seem that much more bleak. Finally it came to the point where he could stand the pain no longer and he broke, crying till his sobs shook him.
He cried till he was raw and fresh and full of pain, until that pain consumed him. He cried for the loss of his love, for the loss of their future for the injustice that was his life. Final he stopped. It was there in the silence of the early morning and the late night that his heart began to heal. That his pain began to subside, and that his memories became bearable. Gathering himself off the floor he moved to the shower, then back to his bed room where he began to pack. He was going home, maybe a little bit late, maybe a little bit broken but all the same he was going and he was healing. The next day found him walking into the Magic box putting his arms around his girls, and for the first time in a long time things were alright.