JenLea (bohofemm) wrote in bloodclaim,
JenLea
bohofemm
bloodclaim

Fic: Coping to Heal. Prt1/1

TITLE : Coping to Heal
AUTHOR: bohofemm
FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
PAIRING: Spike/Xander.
GENRE : Slash
TABLE: B
PROMPT: 081. Heartache.
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 750 words
SUMMARY: Xander talks to Spike’s grave.
WARNINGS: None. MAJOR Tissue Warning.
NOTES: X-Posted to lover100 Prequel to Dream A Little Dream of Me
DISCLAIMER: You recognize them? I don’t own them.



I usually felt silly, talking to an empty grave. Spike wasn’t there. It was only a small marker meant to mark an undead man’s huge impact on my life. I supposed if they had actually been able to bury him, it wouldn’t have been that bad. But he was dusted and swept away by the wind. Ironic really, since he always wanted to travel more than he did once he settled down with me.

I paused, kneeling in front of the simple bronze marker. I reached out, and slowly traced the inscription with my finger.

William T.B “Spike” Harris.
Lived life as if he were decades old.
Not physically here, but his memory lingers.


I hadn’t chosen the wording. Angel had. It had been his idea to give Spike my last name. We always intended to because it was always weird to hear Giles call out William the Bloody! in a fit of rage, but time just somehow got away. It had also been Angel’s idea to get a marker. I had been happy, just talking to the sky. Drusilla, in one of her “moments” had said The stars speak to me. My William… I took it as Spike was where he deserved to be, and that made it easier talking to the night sky. Which was better than attempting to talk to a piece of bronze. Then, Willow threatened to send me to a psychiatrist. After that, I allowed Angel to install the memorial marker.

I placed a white rose on the marker, sat down and began to babble.

“It was a lot easier talking to the sky. Because if Dru heard it, it had to be true. As nuts as she is, she knows…well…things. I hate talking to an empty grave. But this is apparently better than talking to the sky. At least, I feel like I’m getting somewhere. Who knows what’s in the sky? It goes on forever. I can’t believe you’re gone. There was so much time we had together. We were only together six months. I just hope that I did everything I could in those six months to make you realize just how much I loved you, and how in love I was with you. I’m still in the Watcher’s Council, although, Giles forced me to take a vacation. Losing you…made me lose my watcher’s edge, and I need time to heal.”

I began to cry. That full body cry that comes from the pit of your stomach…and just let loose. It was the first time I had fully cried since losing him.

The way he went was so senseless. How do you count on your job’s latest acquisition not listening to the frantic yelling of the head of the council or the head watcher or even Buffy: Supreme Slayer?

She staked him before ANY OF US had time to react. Then, she couldn’t figure out why we seemed so upset. She just looked coyly and seemed pleased with herself. She glanced around, waiting for someone to congratulate her on staking her first vampire.

“Mari…the slayer who killed you…is finally realizing what she did, and she feels horrible about it. She showed up at the door, trying to apologize. I wouldn’t let her in, and was icy. Willow says I need to forgive her. She’s only fourteen. I can’t. Not now. She took away the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I just don’t know how I’m going to forgive her. I don’t blame the council. I don’t blame Buffy. I don’t blame Giles. They tried to stop her.”

As I continued to cry, I wondered if he was watching me. As a soft breeze rustled tree branches, I swore I heard him.

Don’t cry for me, Pet.

How can he tell me not to cry for him? I loved him. I had the best six months of my life with him. Now, I’m alone. Alone and miserable. I’ll never date again. Why me?

“William. I love you. Forever and always. Oscar Wilde once said: Who, being loved, is poor? I wasn’t poor with you. Your ability to love made me the happiest person in the world. Without you, I am poor. Please…help me heal. Help me get over losing you. Please.”

Andrew approached me. He seemed solemn, something I’m still not used to. He rested one hand on my shoulder, and waited.

“Ready to go?” he asked. I nodded.

“Yeah. For now. I’ll be back.”
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