"You do something to me - something deep inside."
I sit here and all I can do is think about her. Sad, really. Even sadder, I remember when I
changed my clothes for her. Silver grey. It reflected my state of mind at the time, not quite white
and not quite black. Now it's black.
It's always black.
"I'm hanging on the wire - for a love I'll never find."
Listen to me.
Hark at the brooding yet strangely handsome young man in the corner. Is he gay? No, his eyes
flicker to follow the comely young waitress' shapely legs. Yet it's easy to see why he's alone. That
droop of the head, haunted eyes, relentless drumming of fingers on the table. The way his
hopeful look every time the door swings open is crushed by every stranger that walks through it.
His heart is broken. So steer clear of him, my child. Stay away.
"You do something wonderful - then chase it all away."
They don't think I hear them, but of course I do. And of course they don't use those words
exactly. The meaning is the same. So the handsome young man sits alone in the corner every
night. Alone. Perhaps I should get used to it. My fate in life, to be alone. Or so it seems.
There's been a few, naturally. I mean, I'm really not gay. First there was Dru. She was mine for
ever such a long time. Then there was Harm, followed by Flick, followed by Lissa, followed by so
many more. To fill the years that pass like the slow drip of blood from a mortal wound.
I'm an excellent lover, or so I've been told. And I'm kinder to them now. Harm was the only one I
ever treated bad. I'd changed, you see. That isn't why the girls should stay away.
"Mixing my emotions - that throws me back again."
Since my heart was broken, I've become a heart breaker. And that's always the way of things.
I've come to believe that a human heart can only love one person, wholly, fully. After that, if that
love ends, it burns them. No matter how much they want to love again, they can't.
"Hanging on the wire, I'm waiting for the change."
Yet this heart that lies cold in my chest is not human. I assumed I could play with emotions, be
gone in a flash. Never fall in love, just feel the fiery touch of passion. Let it warm me for a stolen
moment of sunshine.
"I'm dancing through the fire, just to catch a flame - an' feel real again."
Not true. Never true.
"You do something to me - somewhere deep inside."
She made my insides clench. She made my lungs burn and my mouth spit fire. My dragon eyes lit
up whenever they saw her. That's what she used to call them. Dragon eyes. Face like a choir
boy, eyes like a dragon.
"I'm hoping to get close to - a peace I cannot find."
I will never rest again.
It was raining fire, that night. When I think about it, she died being beautiful. She will always be
remembered as the best. The bravest, the most beautiful, the oldest. Superlatives are the only
way to go.
"Dancing through the fire - just to catch a flame."
I cried out. I cried out and wanted to scream, but a tight fist of fear stopped the words. I saw her
fall and I ran through the fire. I ran to her and danced around the flaming bodies. Nearly there, I
could see her smile through the pain.
Must've hurt, having a bloody stake stuck through her chest.
"Just to get close to, just close enough –"
She was crying. It reminded me of that night, years before, when we sat together on the porch. I'd
never seen her cry before. And this was the first time since.
"Slayer…"
"Oh great. I get to die with you."
"Shut up."
"Spike…don't get…so angry…"
"You aren't dying, idiot."
"You're the idiot…of course I am."
Dragon tears rolling down my face, mixing with the blood and the sand and the dirt and the mess.
"I can fix it…we can…you need an ambulance. Get you to a hospital. I'll go.."
She grabbed me with those bitten nails. Only thing that wasn't perfect, those nails.
"Tell them that I love them…god, I sound…sound like a….movie star…"
"You'll tell them. You will…"
"And you. I…I…"
Dead. I'll never know what her last words to me were, never. I didn't have the chance.
"To tell you that..... "
And I couldn't. And it broke my heart, broke it surer than any splinter of wood. Slayer's parting gift
was to leave me lonely for the rest of my life. To leave me spoiled for any other lover. And now
I'm dead, it isn't any better.
The dead congregate, in this waiting room, if you like. Someone comes to collect them, someone
always comes. Not for me.
Because it's the last words. The last words let you know who loved you, give you a place in
heaven. No-one ever used their dying breath to whisper words of love to me. I can see her from
the corner of my eye. She wants to take my hand, but her last words died on her lips.
"You do something to me - something deep inside."
So I sit here and think of her, doomed forever to listen to the angels sing.
I sit here and all I can do is think about her. Sad, really. Even sadder, I remember when I
changed my clothes for her. Silver grey. It reflected my state of mind at the time, not quite white
and not quite black. Now it's black.
It's always black.
"I'm hanging on the wire - for a love I'll never find."
Listen to me.
Hark at the brooding yet strangely handsome young man in the corner. Is he gay? No, his eyes
flicker to follow the comely young waitress' shapely legs. Yet it's easy to see why he's alone. That
droop of the head, haunted eyes, relentless drumming of fingers on the table. The way his
hopeful look every time the door swings open is crushed by every stranger that walks through it.
His heart is broken. So steer clear of him, my child. Stay away.
"You do something wonderful - then chase it all away."
They don't think I hear them, but of course I do. And of course they don't use those words
exactly. The meaning is the same. So the handsome young man sits alone in the corner every
night. Alone. Perhaps I should get used to it. My fate in life, to be alone. Or so it seems.
There's been a few, naturally. I mean, I'm really not gay. First there was Dru. She was mine for
ever such a long time. Then there was Harm, followed by Flick, followed by Lissa, followed by so
many more. To fill the years that pass like the slow drip of blood from a mortal wound.
I'm an excellent lover, or so I've been told. And I'm kinder to them now. Harm was the only one I
ever treated bad. I'd changed, you see. That isn't why the girls should stay away.
"Mixing my emotions - that throws me back again."
Since my heart was broken, I've become a heart breaker. And that's always the way of things.
I've come to believe that a human heart can only love one person, wholly, fully. After that, if that
love ends, it burns them. No matter how much they want to love again, they can't.
"Hanging on the wire, I'm waiting for the change."
Yet this heart that lies cold in my chest is not human. I assumed I could play with emotions, be
gone in a flash. Never fall in love, just feel the fiery touch of passion. Let it warm me for a stolen
moment of sunshine.
"I'm dancing through the fire, just to catch a flame - an' feel real again."
Not true. Never true.
"You do something to me - somewhere deep inside."
She made my insides clench. She made my lungs burn and my mouth spit fire. My dragon eyes lit
up whenever they saw her. That's what she used to call them. Dragon eyes. Face like a choir
boy, eyes like a dragon.
"I'm hoping to get close to - a peace I cannot find."
I will never rest again.
It was raining fire, that night. When I think about it, she died being beautiful. She will always be
remembered as the best. The bravest, the most beautiful, the oldest. Superlatives are the only
way to go.
"Dancing through the fire - just to catch a flame."
I cried out. I cried out and wanted to scream, but a tight fist of fear stopped the words. I saw her
fall and I ran through the fire. I ran to her and danced around the flaming bodies. Nearly there, I
could see her smile through the pain.
Must've hurt, having a bloody stake stuck through her chest.
"Just to get close to, just close enough –"
She was crying. It reminded me of that night, years before, when we sat together on the porch. I'd
never seen her cry before. And this was the first time since.
"Slayer…"
"Oh great. I get to die with you."
"Shut up."
"Spike…don't get…so angry…"
"You aren't dying, idiot."
"You're the idiot…of course I am."
Dragon tears rolling down my face, mixing with the blood and the sand and the dirt and the mess.
"I can fix it…we can…you need an ambulance. Get you to a hospital. I'll go.."
She grabbed me with those bitten nails. Only thing that wasn't perfect, those nails.
"Tell them that I love them…god, I sound…sound like a….movie star…"
"You'll tell them. You will…"
"And you. I…I…"
Dead. I'll never know what her last words to me were, never. I didn't have the chance.
"To tell you that..... "
And I couldn't. And it broke my heart, broke it surer than any splinter of wood. Slayer's parting gift
was to leave me lonely for the rest of my life. To leave me spoiled for any other lover. And now
I'm dead, it isn't any better.
The dead congregate, in this waiting room, if you like. Someone comes to collect them, someone
always comes. Not for me.
Because it's the last words. The last words let you know who loved you, give you a place in
heaven. No-one ever used their dying breath to whisper words of love to me. I can see her from
the corner of my eye. She wants to take my hand, but her last words died on her lips.
"You do something to me - something deep inside."
So I sit here and think of her, doomed forever to listen to the angels sing.