Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fan Fiction ❯ Old Friends ❯ Running Away ( Chapter 12 )

 

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Chapter #10: Running Away

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Spike woke the next morning feeling like shit. His head was throbbing in time and something had crawled into his mouth and died. “Fuck,” he cursed miserably and rolled over onto his back, holding his head.

What happened last night?

Forcing himself to think even though it hurt, Spike backtracked through the night. He knew he'd gone to the bar, obviously, but what had happened before that?

And then he knew. Angel.

His bad moods always went back to Angel it seemed. The wanker.

They'd had an argument and he'd gone running off into the night. Wonderful. What was he going to do about that?

Angel wouldn't stop bothering him. Spike had no delusions of him doing anything but hounding him day and night until he had his answers. Answers that Spike didn't really want to give. He couldn't give a fuck about Darla but with Dru things got personal. Angel didn't deserve to know about Dru.

And besides, Angel obviously hadn't cared when he'd abandoned them almost four years ago. Why the fuck was he suddenly so concerned now?

He'd have to do something about this. But what?

The only thing he could think to do was leave. Just leave town altogether and forget about it.

Nothing he hadn't thought of before, but this time it seemed almost a necessary thing.

And, really, so what if it was running away? He was bloody sick of this town and he'd never been very good at dealing with things he didn't like.

This had been a bad idea from the start. What had he been thinking, thinking that he could deal with small town life and his family at the same time? He was a fucking moron.

He didn't actually care anymore that he probably wouldn't have enough money for both Dru and himself. It should be awhile before he would actually have to pay again and until then he could always sleep in his car. Not like he hadn't done it before. It would just be a little harder this time.

Or a lot harder. If he did this, Spike didn't expect to eat a lot in the next few months. And he'd have to take on a lot more jobs.

But out there didn't have Angel and that settled it. As soon as his headache became manageable he'd be out the door.

Groaning, Spike pulled himself up and sat at the edge of the bed. Putting his head in his hands as his head protested the movement.

Giles was probably downstairs. It was Sunday so he wouldn't be at his little shop and it'd be only polite to stop in and say goodbye. Thank him for letting him crash at his place for so long.

But then since when was Spike polite? Giles could figure out for himself that Spike was gone.

And his boss. Did he really want to have to call the git and let him know he'd be leaving? Not really.

But Harris . . . . Here Spike paused and really thought about it. Did he want to tell Xander he was leaving?

The kid had been alright. Had actually been the one thing tolerable in this town. There was that caring thing happening.. Spike was actually fond of him and he wasn't fond of many people.

So yeah. He'd tell him. As soon as he got some aspirin.

 

 

He hadn't had to worry about accidentally bumping into Giles on his way out. He'd come out of his room with no Giles in sight. And from there it had been easy to just grab his bag and go.

Now he stood at the door of Xander's crap one bedroom apartment, his one bag packed and ready on his shoulder, waiting for the boy to answer the door.

Cautiously inching the door open, Xander peeked through the crack to see who was outside. He wasn't expecting anyone, but Willow sometimes stopped by to make sure he was still eating and alive. Seeing Spike, Xander blinked in surprise. “Spike.”

Spike nodded. “Harris.”

Stepping back, Xander opened the door the rest of the way. “What are you doing here?” It wasn't exactly like him to just drop by.

“Jus' came t' tell y' that I'm leavin'.”

At first, the words didn't register, Xander staring blankly as he tried to understand why Spike would come all the way down there to tell him that. “Leaving . . .” Then the words hit and Xander's eyes widened. “Leaving? Like, leaving leaving? Leaving Sunnydale?”

Spike nodded again, adjusting his grip on the bag on his shoulder. “Jus' thought I'd let y' know.” And he made to leave.

Xander grabbed his arm before he could take a step, turning Spike back around. “But . . . but you just got here.”

Spike looked at him, raising a scarred brow. “I've been `ere fer two months, whelp. It's time t' move on.”

“But what about that whole saving money thing?” Xander asked, desperate and confused. He really didn't want Spike to leave and this made no sense. Why would he want to leave now? “Won't this, like, seriously mess with that?”

Spike frowned at him, as though he were stupid to ask. “I can make it up again.”

Xander narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Which is why you were so willing to leave before, right?” both knowing that Spike hadn't even seriously thought of leaving before this week. He'd complained enough, but he hadn't actually made serious plans. “Admit it, you hate this town, but you weren't thinking of leaving before that Angel guy showed up. This is really about him, isn't it?”

Spike's expression was disinterested and vaguely scornful as he lied, “No.”

“It is!” Xander said, “He said something last night, didn't he?”

“Don't know what yer talkin' about.”

“Last night. You know, when Angel followed you outside of the Bronze,” Xander reminded him. “Something happened then, didn't it?”

“No.” And that wasn't even a lie. Nothing really happened. Angel tried to get him to talk and Spike walked away.

“C'mon,” Xander said, “You can tell me. What'd he say? I wanna get in on the Angel-hate too.”

Spike rolled his eyes and improvised, just to get the boy to shut up. “He said that he's a poof who spends way too much time on his hair and that he's sorry fer being such a ponced up bugger.”

“Alright,” Xander nodded agreeably, “Now tell me what he really said.”

Not amused, Spike looked at him. “Harris . . .”

“Look. I'm just saying, that if what he said was bad enough to make you want to leave town altogether and run away, I wanna know what it is.”

Spike was beginning to regret coming here. “This isn't about what he said.”

“It's about what he did,” Xander guessed, and then looked around. They were still standing in his doorway, talking where anyone could come along and see. “Look, maybe this isn't such a great place to have this conversation. Some of my neighbors can be pretty nosy.”

“Good,” Spike said, “`Cos I'm not having this conversation. I'm leaving.” And he made to leave for the second time.

“Spike!” Xander protested, reaching out and grabbing a handful of Spike's duster.

Spike immediately shook him off, turning around with a glare. “Harris, leave it. I'm leaving.”

“No. You're running away,” Xander corrected. “This Angel has you scared and you're running away with your tail tucked between your legs.”

Spike's face hardened. “I'm making a strategic retreat.”

Hearing this, Xander looked incredulous. “Strategic? What's strategic about it? You'll have no money. No food. You'll sleep in your car and live off of Fritos.”

Spike opened his mouth to try to say something but then closed it when nothing came to mind and clenched his jaw irritably. It was true.

“Spike, I thought you hated this guy. Do you really want to let him do that to you? Do you really want to give him that much power?”

Spike stayed quiet, jaw clenched, and let that run through his mind. Was that really what he was doing?

Yes.

The realization came in a flash of clarity and Spike closed his eyes and let the anger rush through him. His hands curled and uncurled into fists at his sides.

Now he couldn't leave. Not knowing that that would be admitting that Angel had power over him. Which he didn't, but the thought would be there.

Fuck. And he'd really wanted to leave, too. It would've been so much easier.

Now he had to stay in Sunnydale and actually deal with Angel and his uncle and his boredom and his crappy 9-5 job.

Suddenly Spike was tired.

Noticing this, Xander gentled and stepped back. “Do you wanna come in? I think I still have some beer left over from the last time you were here.”

Still saying nothing, Spike nodded and entered.

 

 

Throwing his bag on the floor, Spike sank down onto the couch and put his head in his hands.

Xander went to the kitchen and grabbed one of the beers that he kept out of the fridge just for Spike. Walking back out into the living room, he nudged Spike's hand with it. “Here.”

Looking up at his voice, Spike grabbed the bottle, twisted off the top, and chugged it.

Xander raised his brow in surprise. He hadn't thought Spike had been that upset. “Want another?” he asked.

“Might.”

The second bottle Spike took a little slower, nursing it, and Xander sat down on the floor, leaning against the couch. Not sure if he should say anything, he looked up at Spike. “Do you want to talk about it?” Did guys ask each other that? He'd had so few guy friends.

“No.” Spike stared at the bottle, his expression dark and closed off.

“Alright,” Xander said, nodding agreeably, somewhat thankful that they wouldn't have to get into some deep emotional conversation but still a little worried for the guy. He didn't look good.

Reaching for the remote in lieu of anything else to do, he turned on the TV and began to flip through the channels. “Animal Planet?” he asked, stopping on the channel for a brief moment and watched as the camera followed a young cub. Boring. He shook his head. “Nah, that's only funny when you're drunk,” changing the channel, “How about Law and Order? That's always on,” searching through the stations.

Spike grunted, agreeing or not, Xander didn't really know, and the two of them lapsed into silence, Xander actually watching the TV, waiting for Spike to say something, and Spike stuck in his own misery.

“I think I hate y' right now,” Spike finally said, deceptively mild and still staring at his bottle. A whole sentence.

Not expecting the silence to be broken just yet, Xander looked up at Spike, a little confused. “What?”

Spike ignored him. “Why couldn't y' have jus' let me leave? I could'a been on my way out o' here by now.”

“You would've regretted it.”

Turning to him for the first time, Spike gave him a narrow look. “I would've been fuckin' ecstatic.”

“Trust me,” Xander said, “When you got out there and realized what you'd done, you would've wished you'd stayed.”

“An' jus' wot would I have been be so bloody sad about?” Spike asked skeptically, “That kiddie club? The 24 hr. laundromat? There's fuck all t' do in this bloody town.”

In answer, Xander just smiled and sat back, looking a little smug. “Admit it. You would've missed us.”

Spike snorted derisively and turned back to his bottle “Not bloody likely,” he said and took a drink.

“Oh come on,” Xander said, smiling in amusement, “Where else can you get graphic complaints about the lack of orgasms and become a test subject in bizarre magical experiments?”

“Who said I wanted that?”

“You know you love it.”

Again, Spike snorted and took a drink.

“And besides,” Xander said, turning serious, “You have Giles here.”

Unable to believe Xander had actually just said that, Spike looked over at him.

“He could be good for you,” Xander added, seeing his disbelief.

“Right,” Spike sneered, “I think I know wot's good fer me.” Didn't always mean he went for it, but he knew. He wasn't stupid.

Xander rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat. “Oh c'mon, don't tell me you really never want to see him again. He's your uncle.”

“An' y' always want t' see yer uncle?”

“Well, no,” Xander allowed, “But I think my Uncle Rory is a special case. Giles doesn't get drunk and set the kitchen on fire.” Then Xander frowned as a thought came, “At least I don't think he does.” Because really, who knows what Giles got into during those lost weekends after he lost his job. He could've done any number of stupid things and just covered it up.

Great. This would bother him for a while.

“No,” Spike agreed, looking away, “He jus' does stupid shit of a completely different kind.” He took a long drain of the bottle and finished the beer. Standing up, he went into the kitchen to grab another one.

Following him with his eyes, Xander watched as Spike began to rifle through the fridge. There must be no more warm beers. “Giles is a good guy. I'd love it if he was my uncle.”

“Then y' can `ave `im.” Turning around with another beer in hand, Spike popped the top and took a long drink.

“I wish.” Xander knew that they were really just avoiding the real issue here, which was Angel, but he didn't know how to broach the topic without seeming too pushy.

Spike came back to the couch to sit down and actually seemed to be watching what was on the TV. He looked much better now. Where before his expression had been dark and closed off, now he seemed almost relaxed. And Xander hated to ruin that but figured he had to.

“Why are you so against being in the same town as Angel?'

Spike immediately tensed at the sound of Angel's name and didn't look over at him. “I don't want t' talk about it.”

Xander frowned. “But you won't be running off on your own anymore, will you?”

Spike scowled, expression darkening as his grip on his beer tightened. “No,” he muttered lowly.

And that was really all he could ask for. Xander nodded. “Good.”