[A/N: I know this particular story has been written quite a few times, but I was watching There's No Place like Plrtz Glrb the other day, and this just came to me. It always bothered me that Joss didn't give us the scene between Willow and the gang, so I tried my hand at writing it. Vive la Buffy. Vive le Angel. Vive le Joss. In a perfect world, we would have seen the two of them together in the end. Ah well, guess I'll just have to imagine it that way.]
"It's Buffy." He knew he was right as the words came out of his mouth. Not in the way they always say they know. It wasn't intuitively, because no part of his heart could imagine her being gone. Even though he'd lived two hundred and thirty odd years before her, he couldn't imagine life without her. And it wasn't instinctively, because despite her being the Slayer, instinct told him that she was too strong to be destroyed. He had fought her, trained with her, been defeated by her, she was one of the best he'd ever seen. He had made sure to teach her all his own tricks, believing that when he was dust, she'd still be going, alive and kicking because he'd helped prepare her. He didn't even know it instantly, because every part of his brain wanted to reject the thought of Buffy's body still and her skin cold.
He knew it logically. If something had happened, was happening, that warranted collaboration between their two fronts, Buffy would have called, or come, herself. They had reached a point in their mutual lives that made it easy to talk about the mission, even if being in the same air space made their respective skins burn. Because in the end, she was still the reason he fought. She would always be the thing that kept him going, more than the desire to help people. He fought tooth and nail for redemption, so that one day, he would be able to be with her.
But now Willow was looking him in the eyes from across his own lobby telling him it was never going to happen that way, but she hadn't said a word yet. Angel realized that if she opened her mouth and said those words, his soul just might die. Not literally, because this wouldn't be a moment of pure happiness, but all the pain those gypsies had wished on him would fit into the single moment in which Willow opened her mouth. Would that be enough to turn his unbeating heart into ash? Or would he have to find the strength to fight his way into the sun.
"What about Buffy?" Wesley looked from the tear streaked face of the girl before him to the tortured profile of his former boss. He couldn't see Angel's eyes. He wasn't as quick to put together what Willow presence must mean. Neither could Cordelia, whose head was looking back and forth between her former class mate and the vampire she stood next to. She hated being out of the loop.
"Yea, can we get a vowel? Or a sentence?" The annoyance in her voice dragged Willow's eyes from Angel's.
"Cordy, what are you wearing?" Willow's voice was small, weak, as if she hadn't used it in days. The inconsequential question seemed to break the layer of tension that had built up since the five of them had entered the room. The question catapulted them back through the years to a more innocent time. Cordelia had often asked Willow that same question, in a mocking tone. Back then they had disliked each other. Back then, they had had no idea what went bump in the night.
But now here they stood, in the hotel lobby. They knew what the world was truly like, had faced death dozens of times and dozens of ways. But it had never been more real to Willow than it was now. And she looked across the room at two strangers and two people who could empathize with her, and one vampire who's heart she was about to destroy, who's pain she couldn't even begin to understand. And she hated herself for being the bearer of this news. But who could she have sent? Anya and Tara- they didn't know half of the history, and it wouldn't have been fair to Angel to show such little consideration. Should she have sent Giles, who had been tortured at Angel's hands to make Buffy suffer and who had been replaced by Wesley because he'd loved Buffy too much? Or perhaps it should have been Xander who had always resented Angel for his place in Buffy's heart. There was really no other option, she'd been the only one to completely forgive Angel for the things he'd done, and she was the only one who understood how much Angel had loved Buffy. And how much she had loved him back.
Wesley could see the pain in Willow's eyes, even if he didn't know its exact cause. He realized that Angel was not going to be the one to take charge. "Gunn, why don't you take Fred upstairs and let her pick a room? And then perhaps take her for a taco?" He threw a pleading glance toward the young man, hoping he would comply without questioning.
Gunn's eyes darted from Wesley to the back of Angel's head then over his shoulder to the intruder. He was missing something, but from the sound of Angel's voice, he could wait to find out, "Sure. Fred, come on, let's go find you a bed."
Willow watched as the two strangers walked up the stairs and disappeared down the hallway. Movement in front of her brought her eyes back to the three people still waiting for her to deliver her news. Cordelia stepped down the stairs, jingling the whole time. She pointed toward a door of to the right, "Why don't we go in the office and sit?" Wesley moved to follow her immediately. They were both at the door, looking back when Angel took his first step forward. Forcing his knees to unlock had been a mistake,mistake; he stumbled forward, down the steps in front of him. Before Wesley or Cordelia could get any where near him, Willow was there. She was able to stop him from falling painfully to the floor, but his weight was too much for her. The two of them slid to the floor gently, arms wrapped around each other.
"I'm sorry Angel. I'm so sorry." Being in his arms was enough to break the flood gates and snap what was left of Willow's self control. In the beginning, before half of Sunnydale knew the truth, there had been them, just the five of them. It hadn't lasted long and they'd never really worked together, but they had been a team. Angel would tell Buffy of the upcoming threat, Giles, Willow and Xander would research it, and then Buffy and Angel would kill it. It had been an effective system. Cordelia and Ms. Calendar had joined the group quickly enough, along with Oz, and others later. But no one would feel for Buffy the way the first four Slayerettes had, no one would love her that way.
And as much as Willow loved her best friend, she knew her depth of feeling was nothing compared to the vampire's in her arms. He had given everything for Buffy, turned his back on his very nature, destroyed his own kind, killed his own sire. Angel had been the Scourge of Europe, one of the most feared vampires in all of history, now he sat in the arms of a college student trying to hold back tears for the love of his life, the Slayer.
Angel could feel Willow in his arms, feel her arms around him, he could even hear her muttered apologies. But his mind was a million miles away, reliving every moment in which he'd loved Buffy Summers, the Slayer. He remembered the day she was called, walking down the steps of her high school, in her horrible 90s fashion, the look of confusion when Merrick had told her about her destiny. He recalled the day he finally revealed himself to her, in the alley by the Bronze in Sunnydale, telling her he never promised her he was her friend and throwing her the symbol of his own pain. He could still taste her, that first time they'd kissed, in her bedroom, could still hear the scream as she'd realized what he was, could still smell the blood as she'd offered her neck to him the next day- telling him to drink.
He flashed through dozens of stake outs in the various cemeteries around Sunnydale. He ran through hundreds of training sessions, her body clashing with his own, trying to make sure she was prepared for any and every threat she had to face. He rehashed every conversation, from the mundane about movies they'd seen to the ones that made him want to be human again-the ones where she confessed all she wanted from her future was a life with him. He could recall with perfect clarity the way he'd tortured her as Angelus, the way he'd studied her as she slept thinking about the fun they could have if he turned her. The pain from remembering what he'd done to her as Angelus was not as bad as the pain from other moments he'd spent with her. The moments that meant everything to him- the night she'd given herself to him, the look in her eyes when she'd been forced to destroy him, the determination in her voice as she'd forced him to save himself by drinking her, the pain in her eyes as she'd watched him walk out of Sunnydale. There were also the words she'd screamed at him as he had waited for a sunrise that never came and the twenty-four hours of happiness that he alone in the world carried. He'd watched Buffy turn from self involved high school student to dedicated Slayer and all the while he'd loved her.
How many times had they faced death together? Yet he'd never considered she'd be the one to leave. Even as he'd stared at her in the Master's Lair, drowned, it had not occurred to him it would end that way. Yet that must be the case now. And he had not been there,there; he had not got to see her one last time.
He didn't know how long they sat there, with their arms wrapped around each other, each lost in their own memories of a girl who had not only changed their lives but who had saved the world. He was brought out of the past by a throat clearing. He released Willow and they both turned to see Gunn. The young man motioned to Wesley and Cordelia, both of whom approached the two on the floor. Cordelia helped Willow up and Wesley and Gunn each grabbed one of Angel's arms and hauled him up as well. They half carried Angel into the office, and Cordelia led Willow in behind.
"Fred walked through every room in the east wing trying to pick a room. She finally found one. She's going through some of Cordelia's old clothes trying to find something a little more comfortable to wear to dinner. I thought I'd make sure everything was okay down here, before we left. I don't think she needs to see the big man crying like a little girl." He meant no disrespect, he felt for Angel. His remarks however were met by a low growl, and the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
They all looked to Willow. She was no longer leaning against Cordelia. She was standing alone just inside the doorway. Her eyes were unfocused and slightly darker than usual. None of the humans in the room understood what was happening, but Angel had felt Willow's power before. It had run through him two years ago when she'd restored his soul. He hadn't felt power like that in a while, but it served to ground him. He moved from between Gunn and Wesley, hands outstretched. "Willow, it's alright." The temperature returned to normal and Willow's eyes lightened.
Willow's anger allowed Angel to think clearly for the first time since he'd seen her. She was in pain,pain; Buffy's death had taken its toll. She'd probably been waiting here for quite awhile. He was touched that she'd cared enough to come, he was sure that the rest of the Sunnydale club, with the exception of maybe Dawn, wouldn't have bothered. If he was going to make this girl relive her best friend's death, and he would make her do just that because he needed to know what happened, then she was going to need to be as comfortable as possible. That meant he needed to get Gunn and Fred out. "Gunn, why don't you take Fred for some tacos, then show her around LA. A lot has changed in the last five years,years; she might like some time to adjust. Take her to Lorne's after. Tell him," Angel paused unsure of what to say. Lorne had a direct link to the Powers, it was possible he knew what was going on. But he didn't want to assume anything. "Tell him that we had an emergency. We'll call later."
Gunn knew when he was being dismissed, and he didn't argue. He left the room and went upstairs to find Fred. Wesley and Cordelia had taken seats against the wall. Angel led Willow to one of the seats facing the desk, then sat next to her. He reached forward and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. Her eyes focused on him, as if he was the only one in the room. "Willow, I know you're tired. And I know," he paused to let her know how truly in sync he was with her, "how much pain you're in. But please," his voice broke, he wasn't ashamed. "I need to know what happened," he took a deep breath, not because he needed it but because he could feel himself losing control. "I need to know what happened to her."
Willow looked into Angel's eyes. She saw so much pain in them. Angel had spent over a century wreaking havoc on the Earth. And he'd spent almost as much time with a soul, constantly being reminded of those deeds. When she'd met him 4 years ago, his eyes had been unreadable. If you didn't know about his affliction, you wouldn't have guessed the memories he carried with him. But as she stared into his eyes now, there was enough pain to eclipse her own.
"How much do you know?" Buffy had been secretive this past year, only telling the people who needed to know as little as possible. It had been her attempt to protect not only her friends and Dawn, but herself as well. Willow assumed that since Buffy had only told Willow and Xander the truth about Dawn because Glory had been closing in, then she probably hadn't mentioned it to Angel at all. But she may have told him about Glory, it's not everyday that a slayer gets to go up against a hell god.
But she watched Angel squirm. He knew a lot more about what had been happening in Sunnydale than either his own team or Willow knew. Now that Buffy was gone and the threat was over, it didn't really matter if he told them as much. But knowing that Buffy had withheld info from her friends but given it to him would upset Willow. He hated doing anything that would tarnish her name in their memories. But there was no sense making Willow relive more than was necessary.
"I know a bit of it. Buffy and I have been talking a lot more this year, especially since Joyce…" He left the sentence hanging,hanging; he hated thinking what short life spans the Summers women had. "She was worried about everything. After she had that close call in the cemetery, she called me up. She just wanted to talk. She said she needed someone who understood it."
"Understood what?" Suspicion colored Willow's voice. She had expected to find Angel in the dark about most of this last year. But she was now getting a strong feeling that he was very much in the know.
"The need to protect the person you love," he let that sink in for a minute. "Since her brush with the Master, Buffy's been aware of her mortality. But she wasn't worried about it. Slayers die, its how the job works. She just always figured when she went out, it would be one of the big fights, you know, like raining frogs and brimstone big. But then there's this vampire, not even old, just a normal vamp. And it nearly killed her with her own stake. It really hit her, just how easily she could die one night on patrol. She had just figured out the truth about Dawn. She was afraid that if something happened to her, Dawn would be left unprotected. So she called me. She needed to know how you live your life from battle to battle, knowing it will end eventually. She needed me to tell her that the fighting was worth it, even if it meant she'd leave the people she loved eventually. The way she was talking, it scared me. I offered to come home, fight with her. She just laughed and told me to relax. Then she told me what she'd found out about Dawn. She asked me to promise her something. She asked me to be for Dawn what I had been unable to be for her, her protector. Of course, I agreed, I'd always liked Dawn. Knowing it was all fake didn't change that.
"After that we kept in touch. She'd call to let me know new information she'd found about Glory and she'd call to vent about all that was happening with Joyce. She was in especially bad shape when soldier boy took off. Called me begging to know what was wrong with her, that the only guy she could keep in her life was a neutered vampire who happened to be stalking her. I swear if I'd known where he went to, I would have hunted Riley down and killed him."
"She told you about Spike?" Willow was slightly surprised. She had assumed Buffy would guard Dawn's origins, telling as few people as possible. Wasn't she afraid that Angel might lose his soul again and turn on her? And Buffy had been extremely closed lipped about everything surrounding Joyce's illness to all of them. She'd barely spoken a word till the day after the funeral. But to tell Angel that Spike, his protégé, was stalking her? That seems like an invitation for intense vampire jealousy. Willow was suddenly feeling quite angry, at both the vampire before her and her best friend.
"Yea, when she called to tell me about Joyce, she thought it best to warn me. She didn't want me catching a whiff of Captain Peroxide and staking him." Angel looked at Willow. He could see that she was hurt. Buffy hadn't meant to cause her friend more pain by keeping secrets, but it came with her territory. She trusted her friends with her life, and by telling them about Dawn, she'd entrusted them with her sister's as well. But she'd learned long ago, it was better to protect your heart. Angel had already broken her heart in every way imaginable, but he'd also healed it a thousand times over as well. Despite her fate, he had allowed her to be a normal girl. She could rage and scream and beat him all she needed, it wouldn't hurt him. She could tell him how badly she wanted to give up and runaway again, and he wouldn't hold it against her. There was nothing Buffy could say or do that would cause Angel to stop loving her, not even kill him. So when she'd needed someone to hear her biggest fears and know how weak she really was, there was no better listener than Angel. That's what became of being soul mates, there was nothing you could say or do- from confessions to torture to murder- that could cause them to stop loving you.
"Being the slayer, it made her different, not just in the super strength and healing powers way. This fight that we wage, it's your choice. You and Xander, you guys choose to do it everyday. If you wanted to, you could walk away from this all tomorrow. And now that Buffy's gone, you might. No one will hold that against you. Even if you choose to keep going, there will come a point when you've seen too much, or you want something more out of life, and you will stop. It may not be permanent; you might still fight if something threatens your existence. But you will walk away. That was never going to happen for Buffy. She didn't choose her life, she was chosen. If she had been in your shoes, she was brave enough to admit she probably would have walked the other way. But she wasn't in your shoes. There was no where for her to go. She tried to run, but she couldn't escape her destiny. She was going to fight forever, because the moment she stopped fighting, was the moment she died. Try as you might that was never something you were going to understand." He tried to be as gentle as possible, but he needed Willow to see Buffy's point of view.
Willow was slightly thankful to Angel, this was the first time she'd felt anything besides grief since seeing Buffy's body. Feeling anger toward Angel was better than the mind numbing pain she'd been in the last week. "But you did? You're not even human, how can you understand? How can you understand, you're not even human? How can you be the one she confides in? I'm her best friend!" She tore her hand out of his grasp, stood up and walked to the door. She wiped at the tears coming from her eyes.
Angel didn't respond to Willow's anger with anger, though every part of him wanted to beat something bloody over the world's unfairness. He stood and crossed the room. He approached Willow from behind and put his hands on her shoulders. "I understood. I'm as trapped like this as she was. What are my options, Willow? Fight, for her, or die, which I'd also do for her. From that day I first saw her in L.A., she's the reason I'm here. If she had chosen to walk away from the fight at any time, I would have followed her. There were often times I wanted her to. I wanted to beg her to stop being who she was because I couldn't bear to lose her. It wouldn't have mattered to me that she was turning her back on her calling, on the world. As long as she was alive to do it, I was fine with any decision she made." He cast a quick glance at Wesley and Cordelia, he didn't want to hurt their feelings but he was speaking the truth. "The fight doesn't matter to me, not the way it does to all of you. You, Giles, the others in Sunnydale, my team here, you all fight to make the world a better place, because now that you know what's out there, you can't just sit by and do nothing. That's your mission, but I'm not going to pretend to be half as noble as that. I spent over a century knowing what the world was made of, of the evil that roamed the earth under cover of night. I would have spent another century wallowing in my pain with no qualms if the Powers hadn't seen fit to bring me to L.A." Angel again remembered the moment he first saw Buffy, the moment he decided he would give anything to protect her from his world.
"I watched as Merrick told her about her destiny. I watched as she lost everything that she'd had in L.A., her friends, cheerleading, her father. And then I saw her lose the man who had become her center, the one person she was supposed to be able to trust and rely on for everything. And I couldn't stand to see her in pain. I fight because I saw a fifteen year old girl watch her life fall apart and she still had the courage and dedication to risk her life for the friends that abandoned her. I fight because I saw that same girl walk to her death because that's what she had to do to save the people she loved. I fight for the woman who time and again gave up everything that meant anything to her for the good of the world. I fight because every demon and vampire I kill, is one less that she has to worry about. My dedication to the cause has nothing to do with humanity and everything to do with keeping Buffy alive."
Angel had told Buffy all this once, after he'd come back from hell. It had been one of their reflective evenings in the cemetery. Buffy had been upset about all the things she'd never do or see, feelings brought on by her encroaching graduation and the feeling of solitude as she watched her classmates prepare for college and travel and lives outside Sunnydale. It was the first time she'd confessed her desire to run again, not away this time, but to run into the world and find something other than evil. She had talked about all the things she wanted to see- Europe and Australia and China- a million places that he'd once been too, but longed to see again with her at his side. She had gone on for almost an hour, about all the things she would miss out on because she was what she was. Then she had chastised herself for dreaming. Angel had pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her and whispered into her ear, "Don't give up on your dreams just because things seem bleak now. If you want to go, then we'll go." She had looked so happy, her eyes so full of hope, "Promise?" He'd pulled her in then, kissed her deeply, and as he pulled away, he'd whispered, "Just say the word."
Nothing had ever become of it. They'd talked many times about the sights of Europe after that, but she never asked him to take her. He figured that she was afraid he had meant what he said, and he had. But Buffy wasn't able to just walk away, so instead of doing what she wanted, she'd held tight to the promise that there was someone who would let her do it. Now she would never have the chance.
"Will you stop fighting now that she's gone?" Willow's question caught him off guard. Hadn't he explained that he fought for her? As long as there was a possibility he could regain his humanity, as the Powers had eluded to before, he had to keep fighting, because the day that happened was the day he would have redemption. He'd given it up before because it meant he'd been unable to protect Buffy. But if she was dead, there was no reason to relinquish it when it came around again. Then it was just a matter of time before he was able to join her.
"No, I won't stop fighting."
"But you said you fought for Buffy, if she's not here what are you fighting for?"
"For Buffy, it's still her fight, even if she's not here to do battle anymore. She died in this war, and until I get my reprieve, I'll keep fighting it for her."
Willow let his answer hang. His remark had confused her, what reprieve would Angel be receiving? Then she turned around. Angel had crossed back over to the chair, he now stood behind it. Cordelia and Wesley were still present, they'd been so silent Willow had forgotten they were there. Then she remembered why she had come, realized they were all waiting for her to tell them about Buffy's death. She sucked in a deep breath, then let it out. "Glory figured everything out, she realized that the key must be a person. It took her a few tries- at first she thought it was Spike, and then she thought Tara" Willow again took a breath, releasing some of the pain from seeing Tara's mind destroyed by Glory's magic. "But in the end, she realized it was Dawn. We tried to make a run for it, but by then Glory wasn't the only one chasing us. She caught up with us though and took Dawn. Buffy couldn't stop her and it just about destroyed her to realize she'd lost Dawn."
She paused remembering what it had been like to see her best friend practically comatose. "When we realized the ritual was approaching, Buffy snapped out of it. Then we rode in, using every trick in the book. We were doing so well, too. But there was this demon, who we hadn't figured into the plans. By then Spike had reached Dawn, but this demon, he was too quick and he managed to get the upper hand. He threw Spike off the tower, and started the ritual. Buffy was keeping Glory busy, so at first we didn't realize the ritual had even begun. Buffy had Glory pretty much defeated, but she didn't strike the killing blow. She went after Dawn, didn't want to waste anymore time. When she got to the top of the tower, she realized it was too late. Dawn tried to, she tried to jump herself, but Buffy wouldn't let her. You see, once the portal was opened, it would remain so until blood closed it. Since the Dawn was made from Buffy's blood, Buffy realized she could close it as well. So she did it." Tears were running down Willow's face, she realized that half of what she'd said wouldn't make any sense to Cordelia or Wesley, but it didn't much matter, as long as Angel knew.
She looked up and met his eyes across the room. He, too, had tears running down his face. She could see the pain in his eyes, but there was something else there. It was pride, and love.
He'd spent years among humans, had even been one once. He knew that ninety-eight percent of the human population were greedy, self-serving people. It had been Buffy that convinced him they weren't all like that. He'd seen the good she'd done, watched her save people who despised her. Despite all the horrors she'd seen and pain she'd experienced, her last act on this earth had still been one of utter sacrifice. Despite all the times she'd wished for a different life, and all the times she'd begged to be allowed to walk away, in the end, she had taken up her mantle most graciously. There were not words to describe how proud he was of her actions.
And there were not words to describe how much he hated her for leaving him alone. She'd once told him he had it easy, that he was always the one who got to do the leaving. He had looked at her sadly and reminded her that he only got to do the leaving because if he stayed he'd just have to watch them leave. She'd gotten silent and then looked him in the eye and agreed that maybe he didn't have it the best. He'd chuckled mirthlessly and nodded. She had leaned in close and pulled his face to meet her own. "I won't leave. I promise. My heart, my soul, they're yours for as long as you live." His heart, had it been beating, would have raced at her declaration. "Buffy, I'm going to live forever." She had taken a minute to think about that, and then nodded once, "Good, I don't want them back before that." She had leaned in and kissed him then. Yes, he still had her love, she told him so quite frequently before they ended their phone calls. But it was going to be hard to remember that when he stood staring at a gravestone that promised him naught but a long future alone.
"I should really be going. With the slayer out of commission, it's only a matter of time before Sunnydale becomes infested."
It was then that Wesley spoke up, "Do you, I mean, if you want help, we're more than willing." He had listened to the story of how his slayer had died, even if she was never really his slayer, and realized just how unfair the whole Chosen One deal was. Buffy had tried to show him time and again what being the Slayer meant, but he had ignored her, he'd been to afraid that what happened to Giles would happen to him. He had to look at Buffy as his job, his charge, not as a young girl who would see too much suffering and evil before herself meeting a way to early death, because he didn't want to mourn her the way he knew Giles was right now, the way every Watcher mourned the loss of his Slayer. Little did he know that all his distancing would be to no avail, he would still mourn her, maybe not as Giles did, but certainly as all Watchers grieved for the passing of the Slayer they lost.
"Thanks, Wes, but I think we've got it under control for now. I might take you up on that offer later." She leaned forward and hugged him. It was strange to see that the bumbling British man who had replaced Giles, trying so hard to be the perfect Watcher, had become side kick to a vampire. It almost made Willow laugh. It was almost as funny as the thought of Cordelia the Prom Queen spending her days sharpening weapons and filing cases about demons, when in high school all she had wanted was to escape Buffy and her weirdness.
As Willow released Wesley, Cordelia grabbed her in a hug. "I'm sorry about Buffy, Willow. We had our differences but I owe her my life, like ten times over. I know I used to wish that she'd never come into our lives, but I think that they're better because she did, or longer at least."
"I know what you mean, Cordy. She would have been proud to know you were still in the fight." She saw tears form in Cordelia's eyes. She squeezed her one last time and then turned for the door. "Oh, I forgot," she reached in her bag and pulled out a letter, "Seems like Buffy was preparing for the worst. She left a bunch of instructions regarding Dawn and the house and stuff, and this." She extended her hand toward Angel. He recognized the stationary, it had been his once upon a time. He had used it to torment her, but when she'd found it in the mansion, she had asked to keep it. He had let her. He took the letter from Willow. She moved forward and hugged him one last time. "Take care, Angel." And with that the red head turned and walked out of the office, leaving the hotel.
Wesley opened his mouth as if to say something, but Cordelia, seeing the way Angel was staring at the letter, simply grabbed his arm and led him out.
Angel turned the envelope over and pulled out several pieces of paper. He opened the letter to the first page and began to read:
Dear Angel,
I'm sorry. I know we were supposed to grow old fighting demons together but I have a feeling that fate has other plans, which shouldn't come as a surprise, not to you, when nothing has ever been allowed anything to go our way. We have had to fight tooth and nail for everything in our lives, and in our relationship. But looking back, I wouldn't give up the times we had together for anything, not even for more time on Earth. That's right I, Buffy Summers, the queen of rejected destiny, would choose this life, with you, and this end, over the life of a normal girl, not that they ever offered me a choice.
I used to think that one day we'd get our reward for everything we'd been forced to give up. And I have given up a lot Angel. It's not self pity, it's fact. I've lost family, and been forced to destroy former friends. I've given up six years of my life fighting the darkness. And I gave you up. I've come to accept that life, when it comes to me, is unfair. But I'm sorry it's also so unfair to you. You've been trying so hard to earn redemption, and I know you do it for me.
I don't want you to stop. I need to know that you will keep fighting my battle, because what does my death mean if there aren't people who are willing to do as I did? I can willingly give my life to save the world, knowing that it will allow you, and my friends, to keep going.
Slayers die. It was one of the first things Merrick told me. He didn't want me to have some glorified Superman vision of what my life was to become. I didn't really believe him till that night with the Master, when it came true. But I know now, more than I've ever known anything else to be true, that Slayers do not get to live forever. In fact, they usually don't get to live very long at all. I went snooping through the Watcher's Diaries,Diaries; apparently the average slayer will be lucky to see two years passed the day she was called. I've seen six. That makes me one of the longest living slayers in history, which is something to be proud of I guess. I think I've made it this far because I broke the rules. Which I don't regret doing.
I need you to do me a favor, go to Faith. Explain to her what happened, tell her I'm sorry. I wrote her a letter, too, but I didn't leave it for anyone but you to find. If you go to the mansion, it's hidden in the loose brick in the courtyard. You'll find something else there, too. I know I promised I'd wear it all the time, but fighting has a tendency to destroy the things I hold dear, and I didn't want anything to happen to it. Take it, and keep it close to you, because my heart still belongs to you, and this is the only proof I can give you of that. I'd have happily worn that ring in death, but if it stays with you, then a part of me can stay with you too.
Oh God, Angel. There are so many things I want to say to you. I keep thinking of that promise you made me, to take me away from all of this. I wish I had followed you then, and not allowed things to become this bad. I'm still not ready to die. But I know it is my destiny, to lose my life so that others can keep theirs. It makes me sound like some noble hero, when really all I am is a scared little girl, who wants desperately to crawl into the arms of someone who loves her. I had to use all my strength to keep from calling you. I was afraid if I saw you again, I wouldn't be willing to do all that needed to be done in this fight. Who knows, maybe this will all turn out okay and I'll be able to rip this letter up tomorrow morning.
Don't mourn me Angel. Just remember me. And love me, please. I know that you do, and there were times when it was all that kept me going. Living without you, those three months, was more difficult than I care to remember, so I know how much you'll hurt as you read this. But all I can say is that we knew this was an inevitability. An early death was always in my cards, just as eternal life has been in yours. I guess in the end, even those as remarkable as us- the outcasts- can't escape fate.
I have to go, duty calls. I wish I had more time to say goodbye, a few more minutes, a few more days. I wish I could do this face to face or at least over the phone, but when I called there was no answer. I couldn't bear to do this over your your answering machine. There is so much that I want to say to you, but it seems as though those things will have to remain unsaid until we meet again. And we will meet again, Angel, I promise. You will earn your redemption, and I will be waiting for you. I love you, Angel, with all that I am. And I always will.
Forever Yours,
Buffy
Angel held the letter, tears running down his face, to smear the words on the page. Leave it to Buffy to write him a letter like that. He didn't know what he was going to do for the rest of eternity, but he could figure it out if he knew she was waiting for him. He could keep fighting if he believed he would see her again. He would continue her fight, but first there were two things he needed to do. He needed to go see Faith and tell her what had happened to her comrade in arms. Then he was going to need some time to process how to function without hearing her voice, or seeing her face, or feeling her lips. He loved his brave slayer with all his soul, a soul he had not fully appreciated or understood until he met her. He would spend the next seven centuries trying to reach absolution if that's what it took. Because there was no price to large to pay if an eternity with Buffy was the reward.