FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
GENRE : Slash
PROMPT: 007. Hardest Truth.
WORD COUNT: 571
SUMMARY: After 80 wonderful years, the end draws near…
WARNINGS: Implied Character Death.
NOTES: X-Posted to lover100 Quote belongs to AA Milne. Inspired by a comment from mysticsoblivion
DISCLAIMER: You recognize them? I don’t own them.
“If you Live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so, I’ll never have to live without you.” AA Milne, Winnie the Pooh
The hardest truth William the Bloody ever had to face was the idea that one day he would have to go on without his precious Xander.
Time had been good to them. Eighty wonderful years of love and happiness. They may not have had much in the way of family, but at least they had each other. The closest they ever got to family was Drusilla popping in every Christmas, as mysteriously vague about her whereabouts as she had been the year prior.
Now…life was drastically different.
Xander had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease five years ago. As his brain lapsed further into the disease, he failed to recognize Spike for the lover he had had for seventy-five years, only seeing the monster he had been. Spike had despaired silently, just watching, and hoping for salvation.
Angel had appeared, the first time either had seen each other in over fifty years, offering his Grandchilde the support he so desperately needed. Spike only pretended to be disgusted at his Grandsire finally appearing. In all actuality, he took great comfort in the man.
As Xander grew more disoriented, he feared Spike more. All Angel could figure out was that he was convinced Spike was the evil creature he had been when they had met…Basically convinced he was 16 years old. It almost broke Spike’s soul to know his pet took greater comfort from Angel.
Unable to watch anymore, Spike had fled, after forcing Angel to promise to care and look out for him in that awful nursing home. Morning Sun Farms had boasted the best dementia care in the state, but that didn’t make it any less dreary.
The streets of London called to him. He had been born into these streets. He had died in these streets. He had been buried in St. Stephen’s Churchyard. By all definitions of the word, London was home.
The structure of the streets hadn’t changed much in over one hundred years. Buildings he could remember watching being built still existed, as well as the little alleyway where Dru had turned him.
It was this alley he found himself in, huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, just trying to fight the pain he felt at having abandoned the old man that he loved so dearly.
Eighty years of happiness…and in his lover’s final days, he had fled, like a scared child. He couldn’t even watch him die. He had to leave that to Angel, who was probably worried, wondering just what had come over his Grandchilde.
Even thousands of miles apart, Spike somehow knew that Xander’s end was coming. He knew the old man had hours at best. He also knew that life was pointless without someone to live for, and two hundred was old enough for anyone.
As the London sun broke over the horizon, Spike braced himself. He wasn’t afraid of the pain caused by self immolation. He had died once, and became a champion. Maybe now, he could rest. He knew he was destined for Heaven, and it was just a matter of time. He just hoped he could get there in time to meet Xander. His pet always hated going to new places alone…