By Suki Blue and Amejisuto
SUBJECT: Ummm, hi.
You don’t really know me. I’ve been lurking in that Yahoo group for grief counseling. I hope you don’t mind that I wrote you. It's just, well, you seem like one of the few people there that is actually trying to get on with his or her life and deal rather than just wallow. And hey, there’s a few things on your profile that we have in common, although the picture worries me a little.
I just, I don’t know, wanted to ask someone who’s older than me, does it ever stop hurting? See, my fiancée died and, well, my sister. She was like my sister anyway. A couple of months before that it was our Mom. And there are days I just don’t want to get out of bed, or days when it’s like nothing is worth anything. And then I have to put on this act of being all supportive for the rest of my family to keep them from falling apart. Before this I’ve had friends die and all that, but never someone close and it was like, WHAM! Here’s your yearly dose of death all rolled into one.
Will it get better?
Sorry if I’m bugging you. I just don’t feel like listening to that peace and light crap the group mod is spouting out. And, well, you seem to like poking sticks at her sacred cows so I thought I’d write. If you want to just ignore this, it’s up to you.
SUBJECT: RE: Ummm, hi.
No, I don’t mind you emailing me. It makes a nice change to hear from someone with half a brain rather than all that, how did you put it? ‘sacred cow’ shit. Can’t bloody stand it, namby pamby bollocks. Christ knows why I’m still in the damn group.
Sounds like you’ve had a bad run of luck. Sorry, mate. Fuck, I know how it feels. I lost some friends recently, too. Rips you apart, doesn’t it?
You sound like a straightforward bloke, so I’ll be honest with you. I’ve lost a few people in my time and the pain never completely leaves you. You just have to learn to accept it. And when you’ve done that you can start to deal with it and move on. But to answer your question, yeah, it does get easier. Without trying to sound like a total ponce, time really is a great healer.
Anyway, enough with the depressing shit for a sec. Tell me about yourself. I feel like a chat, mate, if you don’t mind. Oh, and don’t worry about the picture. I don’t have horns, I certainly don’t have a blue face and I don’t bite…much. LOL!
Hope to hear from you.
SUBJECT: About me.
Wow, you’re like, all British sounding. Or, you know, Queen’s English at the very least instead of the American version. Cool. A couple of my friends here are English.
About me. Well, I hope you don’t mind if I don’t give out, like, names or anything like that. See my bf had an Internet stalker when we were kids and it totally freaked us all out. No offence or anything but I really don’t want to attract a serial killer, and the way my luck goes you’re sitting there in Wonder Woman Underoos, jacking off.
Yeah, I’m old enough to remember Underoos, barely.
Okay, here goes. My biological family sucks great big hairy camel balls. I know, I know, the phrase is usually donkey balls but they’re worse than that. They’re, like, Jerry Springer material. They scare me. Oh, not in a Mommy Dearest kind of way, but the “Dear God, I must never pass on these defective genes” kind of way.
But I’m really lucky. See, I’ve got a real family even though we aren’t related. We’re all kind of messed up right now, of course. Who wouldn’t be when half of the family dies in, like, two months?
Let’s see, what else about me? Umm, I’m really big into comics, sci-fi and fantasy stuff. My friends would laugh but I love to read, and not just comics but bestseller material. Well, most of the time. Piers Anthony and Anne McCaffrey count.
I’m into Babylon 5 and a big Trekker too, and no, that’s not the same as Trekkie. There’s a difference. Trekkers have jobs and don’t automatically drool all over the actors just because they’ve been on Star Trek. I saw Walter Koenig giving autographs in a mall in LA when I was a kid and, man, he was a real asshat. He thinks he’s god’s gift when all NBC wanted was a young kid with a Beatles haircut. Idiot.
I’m into some horror movies but not a lot. I mean, real life is weird enough, you know? I like them if they’re funny, though, or if they’re really smart. Sorry, but seeing Freddy jump out of the closet and kill someone for more than one movie gets boring. Hell, the crazy guy I hang out with is scarier than that.
Other than that I’m pretty boring, I guess. I listen to country music when depressed and, let me tell you, Patsy Cline is getting worn out.
I keep on feeling guilty. I mean, I know at some point in time I’ll feel better and stop feeling like someone ripped out my guts and stomped on them. But I want that part to hurry up and get here and then I feel like I’m letting them down or that I’m trying to forget them. It just sucks to hurt all the time, and I know that’s not what the girls would want.
So that’s sort of me. What about you? Any deep dark secrets I should know about?
You don’t have Wonder Woman Underoos, do you?
SUBJECT: RE: About me.
Yup, British. Got it in one. To be specific, I’m English, not that I’m always willing to admit that. I’d rather be Irish. Those guys certainly know how to have a good time. I’m not sure about ‘Queen’s English.’ I don’t think the old bird would be too happy with some of the stuff I come out with. I can be quite vulgar. LOL!
Don’t worry about swapping names and stuff. I totally understand. I once had a friend that got stalked by someone on the internet. ‘Course, he stalked her first, so it was sort of his fault really.
Underoos? You mean those kiddie underwear sets that looked liked superhero costumes? Blimey, that’s a blast from the past. I remember them in the 70’s. Never had them, though. I guess you could say that they passed me by.
Your family sounds just lovely. By the sounds of it you don’t take after them. Do you still live with them?
Hey, I like sci-fi, too. I’m a real ‘Aliens’ addict. I used to have all the films on video and I had every Aliens book ever written. The bloke that originally designed them, H.R Giger, is one of my idols. I love his artwork. Pure fucking genius. Have you seen any of it? Here, look: http://www.giger.com/
I’m not really into comics, but I will admit that I’ve got some of the Alien comic books. See? Addict.
I like Star Trek, although, and don’t get upset with me, I don’t go much on the original series. TNG is my crack. And Voyager. Fucking HATE DS9. There’s a difference between a Trekker and a Trekkie? That’s a new one. I believe you, thousands wouldn’t. ~g~
Hey! Freddy is a god! You just have to get past him jumping out of the closet and killing someone and see the genius behind it. You just can’t write better comedy. The evil bastard always has a cheesy pun. Just like someone I once knew.
Patsy Cline? I’m not saying a word. Tell you what, next time you feel down, put on some Sex Pistols and try jumping around a bit. It does wonders. ‘Course, you’ll look like a total dick if someone catches you, but it’s small price to pay.
Don’t ever feel guilty about trying to move on. It *is* what they would have wanted. I know it’s hard, mate, but you have to try. Sorry to sound harsh, but they’re dead and they ain’t coming back. You owe it to them and to yourself to pull yourself up and keep going. Go on, make them proud.
Can I ask? How did they die? You don’t have to tell me. Just tell me to fuck off if it upsets you. I won’t be offended.
Okay, about me. Not much to tell, really. I’m just me. I drink too much and I smoke too much. And I’ve got a big mouth that always seems to say the wrong thing. But apart from that, I reckon I’m a pretty decent sort.
I don’t really have a family. I wish I did.
I like my sci-fi and horror movies. Shaun of The Dead is one of my favorites. So fucking funny. That’s where I got my online name. Graveyard Disturbance is another one of my favs. I do like a good cheesy horror.
I like to read. And I’ll read virtually anything. Murder mystery, classics, horror, you name it. The only thing I refuse to even sniff at is Mills and Boone. Tacky shit. Oh, and there ain’t nothing wrong with Piers Anthony. Bloody good author, he is.
I reckon we’ve all got deep dark secrets. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. ;o)
It was great to hear from you. Write back soon?
P.S I don’t have Wonder Woman Underoos, but I do have a Superman t-shirt somewhere. I think I’m gonna have to dig it out now. Bugger.
Spike sighed and watched as the email confirmation popped up on the screen. Thank god for the invention of the internet. He’d just talked more in a single email than he had in a month of real life. It was funny how the words, just simple words, could spill out so easily when you didn’t have to look someone in the eye.
Relative silence was becoming a bit of a habit these days. It was as though when Buffy had died it had broken something inside him. Sure, he kept up his sarcastic wit and cutting remarks, but inside his heart was screaming for what it couldn’t have: love, companionship and family. Buffy had been his last chance at the possibility of those things. And the night that she’d died he was sure that part of him had died too, his hope destroyed and his heart shredded. There was nothing left.
Yes, the Hellmouth was still humming merrily along and, yes, he still had people around him, but it wasn’t the same. Willow and Tara were distant and always seemed to be too busy to have time for anyone else. Giles was leaving for England. Dawn was drowning in her own tears. And Xander, well, Xander was…quiet. That in itself was seriously disturbing. A not-talkative Xander just had to be the first sign of an approaching apocalypse. Batten down the hatches, folks. The sky is about to fall in.
But there was no apocalypse. If only. Then all Spike would have to do is find the magic crystal/amulet/Cabbage Patch Kid/dagger/crown, smash it into a million pieces and listen as the spell lifted and Xander’s voice babbled out a stream of happy nonsense.
Xander had every reason to be quiet. He’d lost so much-- Anya, Buffy, Joyce, almost his entire pick ‘n' mix family -- in the space of less than a year. Poor fucker. If ever there was a person that needed grief counseling it was Xander. Spike stopped and thought about that for a second. He opened his Inbox back up and re-read the two emails from Lex. It couldn’t be. Could it?
The clock on the wall chimed eight and Spike looked up at it and cursed. Patrol. Great. Oh well, it was something to pass the time. He quickly switched off the computer and grabbed his duster. Time for a little recreation.
A/N: This is not a fic that will be tagged in the comments. Each chapter will be in a seperate post. So, please feel free to leave your feedback in the comments as usual. :o)