Waking to Reality

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I figured I'd stick this here, just in case the beginning of this deters you. Read on before determining that Spike is totally out of character, ok? I promise, it makes sense in the end!

Black hair.

Oversized clothes.

Tall and skinny.

Aggressively hunched posture.

It's him, all right. Spike.

… My Spike.

I hesitate to think of him that way, but… I can't help it. No one loves him like I do, I know that… And… I know he doesn't feel the same, but I can't help it. He's… He's always been 'my Spike'.

Not in a possessive way, though! Just… In a way that… I care where no one else does. So I'll do what I can to take care of him like no one else does.

Thing is… I can't believe he's here. At the tree house… I've come here every day for the past two weeks, and he hasn't been here. I doubted he'd ever want to see me again after… Well… All that…

The fallout.

The fight…

I figured he hated be, but… There he is.

"Spike?"

He turns, and I see his version of a smile for a second. He doesn't really smile, see, but… His eyebrows kinda lift and the corners of his mouth twitch. But then his face settles back into the expression he had before. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes down, mouth downturned.

This is more than his usual scowl-y look. This looks… Different… Somehow.

"Sam…" His voice cracks a little. Not in a sad way, but like he hasn't used it in days.

"What're you doing here?" I say, closing the gap between us and standing in front of him. I'm struck once again by just how green his eyes are. Even though they're nearly hidden by his hair, I can still see them. They look… hurt.

"I…" He says, then looks down and scuffs his show on the ground. He clears his throat and tries again, not looking up. "I'm sorry, Sam."

I wanna reach out and touch his shoulder, or life his chin so I can look at him, or hug him, but I don't. I know how much he hates being touched…

"Spike… I…" I blink a couple times, trying to get myself together. I'm suddenly remembering everything about him leaving, and all the things he said to me, and how he just… walked away. When I cared so much and he just wanted to walk off… Then hit me. I shake my head.

"Sam?" He says, softly.

"I just… It… Spike, it sucked." I say, just as quietly. "It hurt. Hurts, still. I didn't choose to love you like I do, but I do. I just… Can't help that." I stop before I choke up.

"I know. I know you didn't choose it or anything. And I… I shouldn't have said any of that. You're not a faggot… You're Sam. I don't… I don't want you to stop being Sam. And I don't want to lose the one friend I've got… I… Didn't realize how much I'd miss having someone care about me like that till I fucked it all up. And now, all I can say is that I'm sorry and that I hope… You forgive me."

He isn't crying, but he seems close to it. He's still not looking at me, though, and I can't stand that any more. I reach out, and I tilt his head up so I can see him, not just the hair he keeps in front of his face. I expect him to flinch, like he does any time someone touches him, but he doesn't. He just averts his eyes.

"C'mon, Spike. Look at me." I say, 'cause I need him to.

He finally looks me in the face, and I put my hands on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, too. For telling you. I swear, Spike, if you don't want me to, I won't act like I'm in love with you. We'll just stay friends, the way we are. I can do that! I just don't want that to end, 'cause I still care!"

I don't expect what happens next by a long shot. Spike, who hates physical contact and doesn't want to be seen with me, hugs me. He just… straight up hugs me and hugs tight, like he doesn't wanna let go. His fingers curl into my shirt and he sighs. I'm not sure why he's so different, but I'm not complaining. I hug back, breathing in how he smells. I can't believe how much I've missed that smell…

I open my eyes. For a moment, I don't know where I am. I think, for just a second, that I'm still at the tree house. That I can still smell Spike. That I'm still getting hugged by someone I love.

Then I remember.

I'm in bed. Alone. Two weeks and four days after Spike and I's fight… I haven't heard from him, or seen him, and I don't even know where he is. I don't know anything about my best friend and my brother…

I curl up, tight, my chest already starting to ache again. I haven't felt all right since… everything. My chest has just hurt, like someone hit it with a baseball bat, but I know it's just my heart. I've felt sick to my stomach and nothing tastes good at all… My head hurts, and I'm so tired all the time… All I want to do any more is sleep. I like sleeping better.

The corners of my eyes prick as I remember what it was like, dreaming Spike had come back. It's not hard… I dream like that all the time. The only times I don't, are when I'm dreaming of how things used to be…

I blink and hot tears start down my cheeks. I don't know when they'll stop, but I know it'll be a while… I can't ever seem to stop crying, either… I can't stop missing him or hurting.

I just want to go back to dreaming again. I hate waking up from dreams like that and remembering what reality is. Remembering all the things he said to me over and over again.

"You want me to say I'm happy that my best friend is a fucking faggot?"

"Get your damn hands off me."

"You haven't tried hard enough."

"You're so fucking self-centered!"

The last one hurts the most to remember him saying… I hate remembering the look on his face as he said it, and how much he meant it, and how bad it hurt. What's worse… Is wondering how much is true…

Have I really just not tried hard enough to not love him? Am I really self-centered? I don't know.

My body's shaking now, I'm crying so hard. I've pulled myself into a ball and I'm just sobbing. Like I do most nights. Like I try so hard not to do during the day, but that's usually how it ends up.

Because it seems like everything reminds me of him! Everything! All the comics and stuff in my room, everything I remember we did here together… Walking to school, being in school… I look for him, every single day, but I never see him… I look for him out of habit, and I wait for him before I go to school because I feel like if I stop waiting… I'll be giving up on him.

All these old habits are so hard to break… I'll find myself waiting outside the school to walk with him, sometimes for almost a half hour, before I finally remember that he just won't be there…

It hurts. It hurts like I can't believe to think he's gone and to think of how much he hates me right now. I know my dad would try to tell me he doesn't hate me, but he didn't see the look on Spike's face when he said all those things or when he swung to hit me because I just couldn't let him walk away… Spike hates me now.

I gasp with how much that thought physically hurts. People don't think that emotions can hurt physically, but they're wrong! It feels like someone's slamming a fist into my chest. Or squeezing my heart, or pumping ice into it. It's cold and it's crushing…

It's the worst feeling in the world, really. It feels like you'll never be able to get enough air and you'll never be able to get your heart to beat normally again. That, combined with the sick stomach… It all just hurts.

I've been curled up so tight, I can feel my arms and legs seizing up, but I don't want to uncurl. I can't… I just can't find the energy or desire to get myself out of this ball. I'm crying so hard I can barely breathe and everything, every single part of me hurts… My back from being curled so tight, my fingers from clenching so hard, my scalp from where I've been grabbing my hair, my legs from being drawn to my chest, and back to my chest.

From working so hard to keep me breathing through tears that don't seem to end and from being so empty and so crushed for so long…

I want him back. I'd give so much to have him back, or to even just get my chance to apologize for everything I did wrong, for everything I am. I feel so fucked up. Like I am a fuckup… I feel like it's all my fault and I don't know how to handle that…

I don't even know if I can handle that!

My breathing's slowing, finally, and I can feel my muscles relaxing from just being too tired to stay clenched up like this anymore…

The tears fade out. My body loosens. My breathing slows. The hurt stays.

I'm drifting back to sleep, finally.

Like I do every time I can feel myself falling asleep, I hope that I just don't wake up this time…

I'm tired of waking up and remembering what reality is for me now…