JenLea (bohofemm) wrote in bloodclaim,

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Fic: Anatomy of a Broken Heart. Prt 1/1

TITLE : Anatomy of a Broken Heart
AUTHOR: bohofemm
FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
PAIRING: Spike/Xander.
GENRE : Slash
PROMPT: 084. Make up.
WORD COUNT: 1080 words
SUMMARY: Following his nasty breakup with Xander, Spike comes to a realization. He’s in love.
WARNINGS: None. Hurt/Comfort.
NOTES: X-Posted to lover100
DISCLAIMER: You recognize them? I don’t own them.

Xander and Spike were the on again, off again type of couple.

The way they were fell into a predictable pattern, after the third breakup.

They would fight. Spike would nastily attack one of Xander’s weaknesses. Xander would storm out, and drift around his various friends’ spare bedrooms for about a week. Then, Spike would realize what he had done, and would do some romantic gesture, just to get him back.

They were like this for almost eight years. Finally,around the twentieth time it had happened, Xander stormed out, promising him that he would never come back to him. That he could find someone who could love him fully and freely. Without any inhibitions.

The first night Spike spent in their studio apartment was hell. He didn’t want to go out, but he couldn’t settle down. Therefore, he settled for wandering manically around the apartment, furiously puffing pack after pack of cigarettes until the sun rose, and he fell into a dreary slumber.

The second night Spike spent at a small bar just off the highway. The paint was peeling. The barstools were falling apart. The bartender was a muscular woman, who looked like she should be called Moose. He drank himself numb, leaving thirty minutes before sunrise, barely making it into the apartment.

On the third night, he finally let the pain hit him. He sunk into a corner, and just sobbed. He sobbed until he could cry no more. After a little blood to satisfy his hunger pains, he cried more. All he wanted was Xander back.

Their previous breakups had never been this hard for him. Then again, he had always known they would come together as they cooled off, and forgot what had made them so angry in the first place. This time though…there had just been something in Xander’s voice that just made him know that his lover meant what he said. Nevertheless, he also couldn’t help but wonder if Xander missed him at all.

He went through the motions of life. He still helped Buffy. After all, he was the only one strong enough, besides her, to really take on vampires in hand to hand combat. Plus he didn’t want to feel responsible if something happened to her.

Three months went by before he got the nerve to attempt contacting Xander. All he could do was hope Xander’s cellphone still worked.

You’ve reached the Xan man. Leave a message at the beep.

“Xander. It’s Spike. The moron who let the best thing that ever happened selfishly go. Please call me back.”

He waited three days, his hopes rising every time the phone rang, only to be dashed when it wasn’t Xander. He began to think that Xander would never forgive him, and he’d be doomed to a loveless existence just wondering what he had slip through his fingers.

You’ve reached the Xan man. Leave a message at the beep. Oh. And Spike? I‘m not ready to talk to you.

“Xan. Please call me back. Or email me. I got an email address just for you. It’s Idiotic dead man at yahoo dot com. I need to hear from you. I’m lost without you.”

Every day for the next week, starting at six AM and ending at Midnight, Spike checked his email religiously every forty minutes. Just as he lost hope, a message appeared in his inbox on the final day of the week.

Spike. I’m trying to heal. Please leave me alone. It’s not going to work between us. Stop trying.

Spike refused to take no for an answer. He knew just what he and Xander were capable of together, and it was an amazing thing. It was a beautiful love, only second in comparison to that of Romeo and Juliet or Tristan and Isolde. He realized that he needed to prove his love to Xander.

Through merely following Willow, he realized Xander was staying in a small hotel, just off the interstate. Each morning, he made sure to leave Xander a black rose, just outside the door.

Following two weeks of this, he found another message in his inbox.

The flower is sweet. I’ll admit that. I can see you’re not going to listen to me. Do what you want. Just know I won’t acknowledge you. Not yet.

The next day, instead of a black rose, Spike left two roses. One pink. One Wine Red. In the language of flowers, a red rose means I love you. . A Pink rose says Please Believe Me. It was one of the few things Spike remembered from being educated in Courtship methods.

Two weeks after this simple gesture, he decided to call Xander. What could it hurt? He had taken the flowers, and said nothing. He had seen Xan pick them up!

You’ve reached the Xan man. Leave a message at the beep. Spike. I believe you.

Spike slammed the phone down. Grabbing his coat, he rushed out, knowing what he had to do.

In the language of flowers, a purple hyacinth said I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Spike needed Xander to get this message. He paired it with a yellow tulip which said I am hopelessly in love. Then, he included a small floral card that simply read:

I can love you. Fully. Freely. Without inhibitions.

Spike woke up the next sunset to a gentle knocking on the door. Grumbling about salesmen and religious zealots, he shoved his legs into a pair of jeans. As he opened the door, he cursed loudly seeing no one there. By chance, he glanced down, only to see two crystal vases of roses- one vase held three red roses; the other vase had six yellow roses.

He picked the vases up, noticing the card. As he set them on the counter, he read it, a tear forming in his eye.

I love you. I miss you. I want to start anew.

The next night, Spike was woken up again by the same gentle knocking. He opened the door, not knowing what to expect; only to see Xander holding at least a hundred roses. Baffled, he beckoned the other man in.

A century of roses. All red. All brilliant. Unconditional love twice over.

As Xander set the roses on the counter, he murmured that. Overcome with emotional, all Spike could do was move forward, take Xander in his arms and kiss him. He was unable to speak, too overcome with emotion

Xander didn’t mind.

Spike’s happy tears said more than enough.

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