Title: 08-01-2002
Author: Hiruko
Posted:
08-01-2002
Rating: PG
Email: hiruko_dark@hotmail.com
Content: Character Death, angst B/A (even though I despise it)
and C/A
Summary: Buffy reflects on Angel and the death of someone
close to him.
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: The
characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David
Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Nothing Fancy, of course. Anyone else, please email
me.
Notes: ust a short fic I wrote in 10 minutes. Possibly a
longer story brewing in it.
Feedback: Send it to me.
I thought she would never die. I thought, that if anyone, she of all
people would go on.
We stood over her grave and I stood behind him,
observing him silently. He was deeply tanned now, accomplished by sitting
for endless hours by the ocean, yet next to the grave, he was almost as pale
as when I first met him. Nonetheless, it still amazed me to see him in the
sunlight, and it made me sad to think that she would never get the chance to
see him like this. It was all she ever wanted, and now she would never get
that reward.
The two of them had a history together that I could
never compete with, could probably never understand. And although I would
never tell him this, I was jealous…jealous of this dead woman and what she
was and probably still is to him. And I hate myself for feeling this way.
Despised the fact that he had loved her, even while he loved me. I know I'm
being a hypocrite. After all, I'm the one who wrote the book on moving on,
but it pains me to know that I'm not the only one he loved with all his
soul…and his now beating heart.
Yes, I do know that he loved her.
Loved her with more passion than he'd admit. I sometimes wonder if he hides
it to protect me? He boxes away those memories and feelings and buries them
within his mind, growing hostile if anyone dares to bring up the past. Does
he fear reminding me of what the two of them had? Or does he want to keep
those feelings to himself, unwilling to share in her memory and what once
was?
He loves me, this I am at least certain of. I can tell by his
gentleness, by his adoring eyes and caresses. But the one thing I'm not
certain of, and probably never will be, is whether or not he came to me out
of pity. He knew how much I needed him, how much pain I was in. I sometimes
wonder if I forced him to be with me, and then I look at what we have and I
brush those thoughts away. He would never have given her up for something
that was lesser. It wasn't in his character…he would never have done
anything like that…unless…unless she asked him to. And for some reason, what
had once been inconceivable, seemed very conceivable now. The woman I
despised in high school, and at times envied, had changed as I had…and it
seemed very plausible that she would have given up her own happiness for
mine.
When the thought crossed my mind, I stared hard at the
gravestone, as if it could give me answers. That, somehow, she would be able
to crawl out of her grave and reassure me that I was never his second
choice, but his only choice. And I realized how selfish I was. Here was a
woman who had died fighting for the greater good, and all I could think
about was whether or not she forced the love of my life to stay with me.
I looked guilty at him, ashamed at my thoughts, but his eyes were
not focused on me at all. They were fixated on the stone, and I could almost
feel the grief coming off of him in waves. I stepped back, realizing that he
could not gain closure with me there. That he could not say goodbye in my
presence.
I began to walk back to the car, shivering slightly as I
felt wet droplets falling on my arm. Looking up at the sky, I noticed clouds
forming and the sun, slowly fading out. I looked behind me to see if he
moved to get out of the rain, but the champion remained by his seer's side,
as he always would.
End.