Sometimes, I mean just sometimes when it's late at night and I hop in my car, driving past the hotel, just to make sure it's still, you know, mine, I think that it's not all been so bad. There's still a few hours a day that I enjoy. Those hours when the paperwork has been shuffled off of my desk and onto someone else's. When everyone's gone home and I'm free to just wander the streets, waiting for that tell-tale scream that means someone still needs my help. Sometimes I even get there before Spike does and I get to be the one smirking when he arrives, stake in hand, too late to see anything but the dust settling.
It's those times that I'm sure giving up my son and Cordelia, watching Fred turn into something unrecognizable, it was almost worth it. At least now when the sun goes down and almost everyone files out of here en masse I'm not really alone. There are always the night workers, the people who just can't leave, Spike.
Always Spike, even now that he technically has a place to go every night he doesn't. He sits in my office, or jumps in the car as soon as I open the door, waits in my elevator, finds a way into my penthouse. The first few times I asked him why he couldn't leave. He just shrugged, that defeated look I know so well haunting his body. "I've nowhere else."
It's answer enough most days. Sometimes I can even wind down enough to talk about times passed and things no one else wants to hear. The words never come easy but at least I don't spend hours explaining the whos and the whys to those who will never understand. He always knows what I mean, who I'm speaking of. It's like finding a part of yourself that you wanted to forget, but that at the same time makes you almost nostalgic for simpler times. That's what Spike is now, simpler times.
Sometimes he's just waiting for me in the shower, naked, wet, wanting. I'm never shocked to find him there, he never hides the evidence that he has invaded my space, just smiles and hands me a wet cloth. I'll never know why he does it, why he tortures me, loves me, can't leave me, but in those early morning hours where I believe that we can make a difference it's comforting to be certain some things will never change. He'll always call me Angelus, and he will always be Will, and we will always find this moment of insanity just what we need. It's almost worth losing it all because human friends will come an go, it's a sad truth, but still truth in the end. For us though, time just keeps going, and if the now is all we really have, then all we can look forward to is knowing the past was worth it, and that in the midnight hours, just sometimes, we weren't alone.