Title: Touch Me (snippet)

Author: Angel

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Rating: PG for language

Spoilers: Small ones for S2

Warnings: Pre-slash, mild depression

Note: Sorry my dues were so late. Had a major problem with my computer. It's fixed and I'm back. Sorry this is soooo short. Had to get something out there. Didn't have a chance to spell check. I tried to catch all boo boo's, but It's late and I'm verrrry sleepy. Sorry for any mistakes.

Touch Me

by Angel

(Blair's late night thoughts)

He's still upset with me. "How do I know this?" you ask, well, he hasn't touched me in weeks. not since Alex. He still feels betrayed.

Oh, he tells me time and time again that everything's fine, he's just 'processing' what's happened.

Like I'm not?

I died for God sakes. I have a shit load of stuff to process. I tell him that and he just shuts down. He doesn't want to hear it. He blocks me out and pretends that I didn't say anything.

I guess he's right. If I was saying anything important, he would listen.

He's on auto-pilot. He goes through the motions of caring about me, but he doesn't love me anymore. If he did, he would touch me. He hasn't, he doesn't, I doubt he ever will again.

So here I sit, on my old bed, in my old room contemplating my life after death. I came back for him, he came for me and I followed. I love him more than anything.

I just wish he would touch me.

I have been reduced to holding conversations in my head, talking to myself because I can't bear to hear what he's not saying.

That didn't make sense did it?

Well, if you were me, it would. He tells me a plethora of things but what he's not telling me is how he feels about me.

Shit, I'm depressed.

What time is it? 2:30 a.m. Before all of that shit with Alex, he would have been down here asking me if I was okay. I've been up all night, setting in the dark, waiting for him to care. Waiting for
him to comfort me and tell me everything's going to be all right.

Waiting for him to touch me.

I want....no I crave his touch. One touch would put my world back on it's axis. One touch would drive the dark away. One touch would make everything better.

What's this? A tear, I'm crying. I don't cry, well I do but I don't like to admit it. I know that I'm all for showing your emotions, that men can cry and not be labeled as 'soft', but I personally hate to cry.

I know I can wipe the tears away, but more would follow so what's the use. I don't have the energy to fight my emotions anymore. Let the tears come. I don't care.

I have the strangest feeling that I'm being watched, but I know that's not true. Jim's asleep upstairs in 'his' bed. That's were I want to be.

"Blair?"

I could have sworn I heard Jim call my name. I must be going fucking crazy.

"Blair?"

Okay, I heard it again. What do I do? "Yeah?" It's a start.

"You're crying."

"So."

"Why?"

"No reason."

I feel him walking towards the bed and I know that my heart is racing. He must hear it too because I think he pauses. Then the bed dips and I feel his weight settle a foot or so to my right.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You tell me."

"I.....I can't."

Silence engulfs us for long moments. Our conversation bordering on the absurd.

"Do you think we can lengthen the sentences just a bit?"

"You just did."

I think he wanted to laugh at that. I did too. God this was too funny.

"Blair, talk to me....please."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me what's wrong."

Instead of answering him, I ask him the question that's been troubling me for so long.

"Why won't you touch me?"

"What?"

"You telling me you didn't hear me?"

"I'm........I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"I'm not sure."

The tears fall again, I reach up to swipe them away and find his hand hovering mere inches from my cheek. I hold my breath, wanting, hoping that he would close the distance and touch me. I wait, he waits. I sigh and he.........

Touches me.

The End.