Title: Living the After-Life
Author: Flannery
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss, and Fox, and many other powerful people. But you knew that, I'm sure.
Pairing: mentions of Andrew/Warren, Andrew/Xander
Summary: Andrew often thinks of Warren. Sometimes, he wishes he were with him.
Author Notes: Takes place post-"Chosen", so there are a few spoilers. Feedback would be snifty. Who doesn't like feedback? The song quoted is by the ever-inspiring Magnetic Fields.
* * *
"Though he is dead, he haunts your dreams..."
Andrew still thinks about Warren a lot.
On Saturday, he and Dawn visited a hole-in-the-wall record store in Santa Monica, where she dug through boxes of bargain cassette singles from the '80s and he browsed the zines.
Music was playing; it was at first a background noise, but the shop was otherwise silent so it was the song on which his ears focused. It was pleasant, and catchy. He considered asking the clerk for the band's name. Then the last lines sent a dizzying rush through his head:
"I gaze into your eyes of blue
But their beauty is not for me
You're thinking of someone who's gone
You're dreaming of the one you really love"
He slowly rose and rushed out in desperate need of fresh air, catching the final line at the door: "You're dreaming of the corpse you really love".
Outside, Andrew slumped against the building and focused on controlling the wave of nausea.
Last night, it took three Tylenol PM to keep from thinking of Warren. It's been worse since the destruction of Sunnydale, almost as bad as it'd been in Mexico last summer. Andrew realized that now he'd never have any memento of his first (and only) love, as everything had collapsed into the sinkhole that'd been their city. The little model Enterprise they'd built together, the episode of Seinfeld they'd purposely taped over an experiment in amateur pornography, the One Ring that he'd worn all winter because Warren had given it to him, even though it'd turned Andrew's finger dark green.
There was nothing tangible to hold onto, and no body to even prove Warren was once alive. Warren had lived and left nothing. It had an existential beauty to it, but it was a beauty Andrew couldn't appreciate. Artistic musings had no place in real love or real death.
He hoped the afterlife was treating Warren well. Andrew wondered if there was Dr. Pepper around after death, because Warren could drink a 12-pack in a few hours. He'd proven it once and earned five dollars from Jonathan as a result, then spent the next half hour puking into the neighbor's shrubs.
In addition to the refreshments, Andrew hoped Warren had friends in the afterlife. Maybe he and Spike would get along, since they'd met a few times and were of the cuddliest kind of evil. What if Katrina was giving him a hard time? It was little consolation to Andrew that Warren could now hang out with Jonathan. Andrew hoped they didn't get together to say bad things about him behind his back.
During a rainy week in November, the three boys had played a marathon game of Scrabble that'd lasted 27 hours before Warren's mother insisted they end it, then took the lettered tiles away to ensure sleep was had. Since they'd be there a while, he figured Jonathan and Warren could continue the Scrabble marathon without him.
Okay, so maybe he felt a bit left out, still being alive.
Sometimes, Andrew hates the fact that he survived the last battle. It would've been such a good opportunity for a dramatic death. He would've been a hero, and maybe Xander would've cried over *him* and not Anya. Then, he'd get to see Jonathan and Warren again. And Spike, with whom he was just recently getting friendly.
The big drawback to dying would be missing The Matrix: Revolutions and The Return of the King. Oh, and he'd never get to know how badly Hollywood butchered the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen movie. And he'd miss eating Ben & Jerry's with Dawn, or talking to Xander and watching him blush and act shy when Andrew tried flirting. Reassessing, Andrew would move Dawn and Xander to the top of the list. He'd miss them more than he would a few movies, no matter how awesome said movies promised to be.
So Andrew did have a lot to live for; much more than he'd had in Sunnydale, and that made it easier to cope. Someday, he'd finish drawing his comic book (featuring a gay witch that will die horribly in every issue) and display it with the other zines at that little record shop in Santa Monica. Someday, he'd get Xander to kiss him, and he'll learn to feel at home in Los Angeles, and perhaps he'd someday conjure up a portal into which he'll toss Angel's Barry Manilow albums.
Someday, he'll be able to think of Warren without wanting to kill himself. Until then, he had friendship, hope and sleeping pills.
* * *
Author: Flannery
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss, and Fox, and many other powerful people. But you knew that, I'm sure.
Pairing: mentions of Andrew/Warren, Andrew/Xander
Summary: Andrew often thinks of Warren. Sometimes, he wishes he were with him.
Author Notes: Takes place post-"Chosen", so there are a few spoilers. Feedback would be snifty. Who doesn't like feedback? The song quoted is by the ever-inspiring Magnetic Fields.
* * *
"Though he is dead, he haunts your dreams..."
Andrew still thinks about Warren a lot.
On Saturday, he and Dawn visited a hole-in-the-wall record store in Santa Monica, where she dug through boxes of bargain cassette singles from the '80s and he browsed the zines.
Music was playing; it was at first a background noise, but the shop was otherwise silent so it was the song on which his ears focused. It was pleasant, and catchy. He considered asking the clerk for the band's name. Then the last lines sent a dizzying rush through his head:
"I gaze into your eyes of blue
But their beauty is not for me
You're thinking of someone who's gone
You're dreaming of the one you really love"
He slowly rose and rushed out in desperate need of fresh air, catching the final line at the door: "You're dreaming of the corpse you really love".
Outside, Andrew slumped against the building and focused on controlling the wave of nausea.
Last night, it took three Tylenol PM to keep from thinking of Warren. It's been worse since the destruction of Sunnydale, almost as bad as it'd been in Mexico last summer. Andrew realized that now he'd never have any memento of his first (and only) love, as everything had collapsed into the sinkhole that'd been their city. The little model Enterprise they'd built together, the episode of Seinfeld they'd purposely taped over an experiment in amateur pornography, the One Ring that he'd worn all winter because Warren had given it to him, even though it'd turned Andrew's finger dark green.
There was nothing tangible to hold onto, and no body to even prove Warren was once alive. Warren had lived and left nothing. It had an existential beauty to it, but it was a beauty Andrew couldn't appreciate. Artistic musings had no place in real love or real death.
He hoped the afterlife was treating Warren well. Andrew wondered if there was Dr. Pepper around after death, because Warren could drink a 12-pack in a few hours. He'd proven it once and earned five dollars from Jonathan as a result, then spent the next half hour puking into the neighbor's shrubs.
In addition to the refreshments, Andrew hoped Warren had friends in the afterlife. Maybe he and Spike would get along, since they'd met a few times and were of the cuddliest kind of evil. What if Katrina was giving him a hard time? It was little consolation to Andrew that Warren could now hang out with Jonathan. Andrew hoped they didn't get together to say bad things about him behind his back.
During a rainy week in November, the three boys had played a marathon game of Scrabble that'd lasted 27 hours before Warren's mother insisted they end it, then took the lettered tiles away to ensure sleep was had. Since they'd be there a while, he figured Jonathan and Warren could continue the Scrabble marathon without him.
Okay, so maybe he felt a bit left out, still being alive.
Sometimes, Andrew hates the fact that he survived the last battle. It would've been such a good opportunity for a dramatic death. He would've been a hero, and maybe Xander would've cried over *him* and not Anya. Then, he'd get to see Jonathan and Warren again. And Spike, with whom he was just recently getting friendly.
The big drawback to dying would be missing The Matrix: Revolutions and The Return of the King. Oh, and he'd never get to know how badly Hollywood butchered the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen movie. And he'd miss eating Ben & Jerry's with Dawn, or talking to Xander and watching him blush and act shy when Andrew tried flirting. Reassessing, Andrew would move Dawn and Xander to the top of the list. He'd miss them more than he would a few movies, no matter how awesome said movies promised to be.
So Andrew did have a lot to live for; much more than he'd had in Sunnydale, and that made it easier to cope. Someday, he'd finish drawing his comic book (featuring a gay witch that will die horribly in every issue) and display it with the other zines at that little record shop in Santa Monica. Someday, he'd get Xander to kiss him, and he'll learn to feel at home in Los Angeles, and perhaps he'd someday conjure up a portal into which he'll toss Angel's Barry Manilow albums.
Someday, he'll be able to think of Warren without wanting to kill himself. Until then, he had friendship, hope and sleeping pills.
* * *