“What did you see?” Red was staring at me. “Well?”
I stumbled up from the table wondering where I had left my duster. I needed the flask out of the left pocket. I didn't carry bourbon anymore; I'd forgotten what I had put in its place.
My eyes were flaming and if I were human I would have already vomited all over the front of my self. But we vampires weren't supposed to do that, no stomach ailments for people who don't use their stomach. But then again we weren't supposed to feel loss either, no heartache for people who don't use their hearts.
I slowly climbed the stairs, grasping the handrail with already white knuckles. My footsteps were heavy, and I ignored Willow's voice that still seemed to be following me.
How had Buffy wound up someplace like that while I was still here? She only fought for good, and she was forced to spend the past weeks in those flames. Or was it longer there, had eternities passed while she cried tears of blood. Why wasn't I there to lick her tears away? The bile rose in my throat as I realized how repulsive that sounded.
Second door on the left, room 153, the room Angel had told me was for my stay. Ironic wasn't it; she was dead for 153 days. I wonder if he knew. If he too marked the days down as a little tally on the wall.
I opened the door, and there was Dawn, leaning out my window over the courtyard with a Marlboro in her hand. “What the bloody fucking hell are you doing? Give me that.” I ripped the cigarette from her hand, and turned taking a puff before stubbing it out on the bottom of my shoe. “Where did you even get this from?”
“There's a carton over on the dresser, I guess Angel left them for you. I didn't think you'd mind if I had one.”
“I damn well do. God Dawn, this isn't stuff to get involved with.”
“I know, I don't know why I did it. I couldn't sleep, so I came in, but you weren't here. I wasn't going to smoke it; I just wanted it, a comfort thing. They smell like you.”
“I was right downstairs luv. Swear to me, never again will I see you with one of these things.” She looked away, and I grabbed her chin, pulling her face towards me. “Swear to me Dawn, or this is done. If I can't trust you, I can't let you know anything else about Buffy.”
“I swear.”
I snatched my duster off of the bed, and pulled the silver flask out. I swigged it down fast once, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and then chugged a few gulps. It wasn't working like it was supposed to.
“What is it anyway?”
“It's alcohol Niblet, I don't bloody know what it is, but it's weak”
“Can I have some?”
“What? Did we not just have a discussion about getting involved in things you shouldn't?”
“I was kidding, you looked upset. I wanted to make you laugh. It feels better to laugh when your upset, it stops you from crying.”
“Sometimes it makes you cry red.”
“What does that mean?”
“I wish I bloody knew.”
