Because I Get it Now
Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize, created purely for fun. BTVS belongs to Joss Whedon
Summery – A sad Spike tells Buffy how he feels
AN – Just an angsty little one-shot I wrote while I had a whole bunch of spare time at work
I miss you. Every day I miss you.
I miss everything about you, but I miss that smile of yours most of all, princess. You used to smile at everyone, but your eyes shined brightest when you were smiling at me. Hell, I even miss that annoying little half smile you'd do when you were humoring me over something stupid. I'd fight an army of monsters just for you to smile at me like that today. Wish I'd taken a photo of it while I had the chance...but it's too late now. It's all too late now.
I miss family dinners on Sunday's. Miss rolling our eyes and sharing a secret laugh when our mothers began to coo – and coo they invariably did – about how we were the perfect love story. How we'd loved each other from the second we met, from the moment you tugged on my diaper and made me cry. How even at twelve years old I was announcing to the world that when we were grown-ups I'd marry you and keep you forever.
I miss lying in the grass at the bottom of our parents gardens and reminiscing about how we'd do this so often when we were teenagers. Hide out there from our parents and make outrageous plans to escape to exotic lands. I'll always remember that spot as special, purely because it's where we shared our first kiss – back when we were sixteen and innocent enough to believe that our love would be the only thing we'd ever need, that we'd never do anything to hurt one another and that everything would be perfect for the rest of our lives, as long as we were together.
I even miss those annoying weekly visits from that idiot cousin of yours, Xander. Did you know that every time he came around to see us at our pokey little flat he'd warn me? Warn me that if I ever hurt you in any kind of way that he'd give me the biggest knuckle sandwich I'd ever seen? It was laughable, of course, because everyone with two eyes and a brain could see that I could take down the whelp with my hands tied behind my back, and also because the very idea that I could even think about wanting to hurt you was simply preposterous. But each week I humored him, if only because I knew it'd make you happy. You never did like it when we snipped at each other. He still comes by, you know? Xander. Not really sure why, but he does it anyway, once a month or so. We have a beer and watch sports and sometimes grunt out some sort of conversation. I always pretend to be annoyed to see him, but deep down I think I like the company. Xander's visits are the only time I ever buy in beer, so I guess that counts for something.
I miss your excitement. How when we'd saved up enough money to buy a new piece of furniture you'd jump up and down and squeal and tug on my arm until I accompanied you to the furniture store, even though we both knew it'd be you who'd end up making the final decision. How you'd explain that every time we bought a chair or a table of our own we were turning our pokey little flat into a real home. Somewhere warm, comfortable, friendly. Our home is cold now. Cold and empty. Just like me.
I never understood back then why you left me. When everything was so perfect, so good, so right. Said some things that should never have left my cruel lips. But I was heartbroken, if that's any kind of excuse at all. Thought you didn't love me. Thought you hated me, in fact. Thought you didn't want me any more. Thought our twenty three years of history, of love, meant nothing to you. I should never have said that to your face.
Because I get it now.
You did love me.
Loved me more than anything else in the entire world, just as I did you. Just as I always will.
But you knew...you knew that even though we loved each other no matter what, that it could never last forever, and you wanted to make it easier. On me, that it, not you. You were always unselfish that way. You wanted to make it hurt less for me when you...you know.
I should have known that death was the only thing that could ever come between us, that only that small, inoperable little thing inside your brain could ever make you leave me.
But you should have known that I could never give up on us. Not ever. You should have known that I'd keep on fighting for us, right until the very end.
Because that's what it was, wasn't it? The end.
I thought about death a lot after you went, you know. Wondered what'd happen if I just said “To hell with it!” and took that final bloody leap. But I knew, I just knew that you'd be there waiting for me on the other side...and you'd be mad! Your arms would be crossed and your dainty little foot would be tapping away at the floor and you'd have that look on your face. You know? That look that used to terrify me because I always knew it meant that I was in trouble. Kind of like the one our mothers used to send our way when we got too dirty in the garden when we were kids. And you'd tell me that I'm an over dramatic fool. You'd tell me that it's not the end, and that there's so much more to live for. And I'd believe you, because it's you, and also because I wish more than anything that it was the truth. Living without you is kind of unbearable.
But I bear. Day by day I bear.
God, I miss you.