Spike POV
He’s not laughing. Why isn’t he laughing? Why do I even care?
The laughter is, for the most part, aimed at me. I shouldn’t want the ridicule and the humiliation, the hurt that slices through me like a blade, threatening to break my cold unfeeling mask.
But I want to see him smile, that dazzling smile that tugs at my dead heartstrings.
He’s the only reason I have left to go on. I’ve been around forever, done everything imaginable and more. Now all I want is to see my nummy smile and joke, covering up the harsh reality with innocent laughter.
But he’s not smiling.
#
He looks my way before I have a chance to feign ignorance. A brief glimpse at the emotions laid bare behind his eyes and I have to fight back the prickling tears that threaten to fall.
He’s broken.
There’s no mirth or joy, just torment and pain. And longing?
I bet Anya had something to do with this. If she hurt him in any way I’ll bloody whack some sense into her.
When the hell did I start to care about whether the whelp was happy or not? It’s not like we’re friends or something. I don’t even like him at all.
Why do I sound like I’m trying to convince myself?
But he hates me, of that I am certain.
#
I sit there brooding (although I’d never admit it out loud) for a while longer until he gets up. I start, wondering where he’s of to and why the scoobies are letting him go outside alone at night. It’s practically a death wish!
They hardly even notice he’s gone although I’m sure they’ll realise when they discover that their daily supply of doughnuts isn’t there.
Very calmly I sit down, eyes jerking every 5 seconds to the door.
He’s not coming back.
There’s no reason for him to come back.
He can handle himself.
He got home all right.
He didn’t get attacked.
He didn’t get surrounded by a mob of vampires and beaten to a pulp before they all took it in turns to bite down and…
I didn’t get to finish the thought before I sprinted out the door, ignoring the questioning glances of the scoobies. Running frantically through the eerily empty streets of Sunnydale I follow his scent; that bloody intoxicating scent of cocoa and spices.
It leads me towards one of Sunnydale’s main cemeteries. I can smell blood.
Fuck!
Tbc..
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