Life isn't dealt with so easily..

Feb 14, 2006 22:23

The entire plane ride, all I could think about was Angel and Spike, and what Giles had said right before I walked out the door… right before I walked out of the car too. I didn’t like how we left things, but it wasn’t like I didn’t have a reason to be mad. I think if I had opened my mouth to talk to him, I’d come out incredibly rude, and angry, ( Read more... )

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railroad_spike February 15 2006, 12:04:53 UTC
Could feel my head throbbing, and barely feel the trace of the rain pummeling me ( ... )

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angelbuffy February 16 2006, 00:50:55 UTC
The last time I had seen Spike, he was telling me to leave, to 'let him see how it ends.' I had left him to die in Sunnydale…and he died good. He died a hero. But he came back, and was with Angel, helping him in Wolfram and Hart, helping him to do the business, whatever business that was. I didn’t come back to see him. I didn’t come back, because first of all, it would be awkward. Second of all, we had begun to pave different roads, and for the longest time, I didn’t want anything to do with either of them. At least I didn’t want anything to do with them in close proximity. I’d be lying if I didn’t at least try to keep tabs on them ( ... )

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railroad_spike February 16 2006, 01:14:59 UTC
“I’m here, Spike. I need to get you inside.”Everything was fading in and out like a black and white picture show from back in the sodding day, long and happily forgotten to me now, but when they were out, it was all the rage ( ... )

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angelbuffy February 16 2006, 20:30:54 UTC
"Slay...Buffy, I think that the back of my head is split open. Might turn into a disgustingly pale Ethiopian picture of the blood flow isn't stopped from leaving my skull. Think about all of my ribs are broken and could probably use a couple of pints of a-b neg."Regardless of the rain, I was still covered in Spike's blood. I knew when I saw him laying down in the alley that he was losing blood. I ripped off art of my shirt, and tried to tie it around his head. I was no surgeon, but I knew that a simple shirt wasn't going to work forever. He needed some other kind of help, he needed it to be sewed up. It wasn't just the back of his head either. It was on his back, the puncture wounds in the front. He was bleeding everywhere ( ... )

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