Title: Tears Of Blood (1/1)
Rating: G
Author: Torra (torra_k@yahoo.com)
Disclaimer: Yah, that's right...I own 'em! I own 'em *all*!
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAE! What...who are you? What are
you doing with that law suit?? No! NO, get away from me! NO!
NOOOOOOOOO!
Archiving: Anywhere! Just E-mail me and let me know it's going to a
good home!
Feedback: YES! OH DEAR LORD, YES PLEASE!!


The moon cast a long shadow over the headstones as the
figure moved silently though the dark cemetery, carefully and quickly
reading off the names, looking for one in particular. Finally, after long,
anxious moments of searching, the form stopped over a freshly dug
grave.

"Alexander Herris. Father. Friend. Fighter. Lover." The
form read in a soft, feminine voice. She placed a bouquet of small
white forget-me-nots on the grave and bowed her head, "The world
will never be the same now that you are gone, Xander."

Lifting her head to look at the stars, she sighed, "I knew it
was coming. I could feel it, even as far away as I was, I could feel you
dying. Feel the life slipping away from you." Tears now clouded her
voice, "I came as soon as I could. But I...I guess I was too late. Again.
Always too late. Oh, Xander, I miss you."

The woman, once Willow Rosenberg by name, turned her
head up to face the night sky, "I named another child after you. His
mother wondered into the shelter I'm running down in New Orleans a
while back. She died during labor two nights ago. Little Xand, he has
your eyes. And the nurses can't feed him fast enough. The little guy
never seems to get full."

Willow turned to face the grave again; "I never got to tell you
about the new shelter, did I? Angel set it up for me. It was originally run
by someone he saved during some war or other years ago. I've only
been running it for a few years now, though. It's called Fallen Angels
Shelter For The Hungry."

Willow grew silent for several moments, "I'm sorry for not
coming to see you sooner. I...I meant to, it's just...time seems to move
so quickly now. I think about you all the time, though!" She hurried to
add. "It's just...it's gotten so hard to return here, to Sunnydale. Ever
since we lost Buffy...and then Riley, and Anya, and Buffy's first child,
Ellen..." she trailed off, grief and guilt chocking her voice into science
for a few moments.

"Dawn is going to be a grandmother." She finally started
again, "I just heard the news when I got into town. Buffy would...Buffy
would be so proud. You know how much she doted on Dawn's
children when they were young." Willow smiled though her tears,
"Remember that time she asked Giles to baby-sit? And Giles was
so flustered he let Spike put whiskey into Melissa's bottle to quiet
her down?" Willow laughed, "And when he realized what he had
done, he turned that wonderful shade of purple. Do you remember
that, Xander? He had play dough ground into his carpets for years
after that!
"Or how about the time Ellen ran away from a week at
Giles' and got her nose pierced? Oh, I've never seen him so mad!
He was furious!" Willow smiled, but slowly it faded. Frowning, she
looked around the graveyard around her, "I should really stop by
and see him too. I haven't been to his grave since...since Buffy died.
It's just..." Willow stopped, "It's just so damned hard! I miss you all so
much, Xander. I miss Buffy's 'bring it on' attitude, and Dawn's incessant
writing, and Giles' lecturing, and...and...Oh, Xand, I miss everything.
It's been so long, and so much has changed. But you guys...you always
stayed the same. You always held life above all else. You always
fought for the side of good. You even always had the same
post-apocalypse pizza party. I miss that so much." Finally braking down,
Willow let herself collapse over the grave, her blood red tears mixing
with the freshly tilled earth.




From the darkness several rows over, a tall blond haired man
watched his lover cry. He never liked coming back to this place. It held
too many memories for him and his Willow. She had hated leaving here,
but as she watched her friends grow and age, while she remained the
same, she finally realized why immortals never stuck around for as long
as she had. It just became too painful to watch those you love die.

Spike sighed. He loved her. Gods Below, he loved her. He
would do anything for her. He swore he would protect her. The night he
brought her across, he swore it, and he never regretted it.

But it hurt to watch her cry and know he could never make that
pain any better.

Looking to the moon Spike judged they still had a good couple
of hours until sunrise. He'd let her greave, and then tomorrow, they would
move on for the last time. There was no longer anything to keep her coming
back to Sunnydale. The last of the Scooby Gang was defeated.

As he watched Willow crying so openly, he felt a sick feeling in
the pit of his stomach. Somehow, he always thought he would feel more
victorious at the death of the last of his greatest foes. Now, all he wanted
was his Willow safe, happy, and with him.

Spike watched, Willow cried, and the world continued on.