Nothing belongs to me
It had been months since she was gone. But still it hurt. Pain like trying to breathe in an oxygen-less atmosphere. Fingers reaching in the dark to touch what wasn’t there anymore. Opening the door of his room and expecting to see her there. Bright red hair and flashing smile and his name on her lips.
Everyday everyone said it would get easier. Every afternoon everyone passed him with shuttered glances and whispered comments because they could see it wasn’t. It wasn’t even getting close to being easier to sleeping alone and dreaming alone.
Friends offered shoulders and arms. They took him out to drink, to play pool. They talked about missions and motorcycles and the newest gadget or the latest mutation. He would watch the children playing out in the sunshine on the front lawn and all it did was make him miss her more because she was the one that wanted them to someday have a child of their own.
Scott lived in the dark even when he was out in the daylight.
Angel met him in a bar. Sat beside him. Elbows resting on the scarred wood. Still drifting after the war in LA. Still looking for something that he’d never find. Still hearing Spike scream his name and disappear. Even though he knew the other vampire, *family* was not dead. Angel couldn’t find him. But still he searched. He drove in the dark and he slept in the day. He broke into blood banks and he’d even resorted to feeding off of homeless, stopping just short of killing them and leaving them in front of hospitals and clinics before he ran and hid and kept looking … looking.
Listening in the shadows for words of other demons. Drinking in bars where no one knew him on the off chance that someone had seen Spike. That he wasn’t in another dimension or taken hostage by the PTB or killed and Angel just would not accept that possibility.
They recognized each other without knowing names. They glanced into each other’s eyes and they saw each other’s souls. Angel swung from the barstool first. His coat brushed Scott as he walked past and Scott followed him into the back hallway of the bar.
It wasn’t good and it didn’t help. But it was scorching and it was the feeling of hands on skin, lips on lips and desperate need mirrored by infinite grief. It was Scott closing his eyes as Angel took off his special glasses and slid them inside his jacket. It was blind reaches under shirts and fingers unbuttoning pants and teeth clicking together.
It was being turned and fucked. Screaming pain and pleasure that drowned out the voices in their minds for to brief a time. It was hands pulling at hair, material ripping and joyless orgasms that left them both craving what they really wanted.
Soft kisses. Whispers in the dark.
Sharp teeth and smirk that drove him insane.
What they really needed.