Disclaimer: The characters you recognise belong to Joss Whedon etc etc.

Claimer: But I own this idea.

A/N: This is my first Buffy/Angel fic, and I've actually never read one. Be nice.

Italics mean it's a memory. Usual font for description and his current state.

Synopsis: Angel has always lived in the shadows to stay on the right side. He's had to stop giving into temptation...to find a road to redemption. However much it hurts. . . a life without meaning.

- - - -

Angel. Hidden behind the remains of his unholy past, seeking redemption, fighting the good fight with no real purpose. No meaning. Just her.

He sips back the coffee in his hand. "She won't be in pain," Willow tells him. "We've been assured of that fact."



The temptation to give in, to die in the flame, the temptation to achieve the happiness he truly desires.

The temptation to no longer see a point, to see an end, is strong. The temptation to love is even stronger.

"I can't do this Giles. I. . . I've lost my friends, and now I'm loosing her. There's nothing left. . ." Angel cried, doubling over. Giles stood in the doorway, tears running down his face.

"There. . . there's nothing that we haven't tried. . ." The ex-watcher tries to explain, helpless, alone.

"I know. But it doesn't make it hurt any less."



If it wasn't for that girl who turned him, the girl who changed who he was, the girl who put evil inside of him. . . he would never have met his one true love.

He watches from behind a curtain as Buffy sleeps, looking in no pain. Only beautiful. Only her. Like there was nothing eating her from the inside.



This shadow he hides behind is ever-present, ever-there, ever-alive. You look into those eyes and the pain just lingers on.

"Angel, don't cry. Please don't cry. I'll cry if you cry. . . oh god." Xander allows the tears to roll down his face. The two sit in silence. Agreeing about the first thing. The only thing they ever agreed about. Crying for the same thing.



He's given up on life. He's given up on love. He's given up on friends. But he hasn't given up on her.

Buffy.

"Angel, when I look into the future, all I see is you. All I want is you." The memories of what she had once told him.


She did have him. She would always have him. Even as he watched from afar, her final days. He spoke to her for just under an hour. Before she slipped away from him forever.

"Don't ever leave me." Her body shudders as the tears roll down her face.

"Never," Angel tells her, trying to be strong.

"I'll love you forever," she whispers, before her eternal sleep, leaving him there. Alone.



At her night-time funeral, Angel knew it was finally over. For, natural causes – an illness stronger than any demon, had taken her away from him. Had ripped her apart. She hadn't even reached her thirties.

There was only one comfort. The knowledge that she was happy. But even that wasn't enough.

He stood by her grave, the moon gently telling him it was near day.

What would lie ahead of him was uncertain. . . but, whatever it was, after sunlight over-took him, he would see her. Her.

Buffy.