Credit to Joss Whedon for his awesome series.
They were wrong.
It was stupid to assume that losing a soul meant they were completely different. No matter what, people were people. Angel hadn't lost his soul entirely. The urge to redeem himself wasn't there anymore, but the lessons he learned hadn't gone away either.
Neither had his love for Buffy.
He hadn't cared in the beginning. She was just another Slayer. One that he had to protect to help Whistler. But then she was kind to him, something he hadn't seen in centuries. That's when he fell in love with her. Even without his soul, he still loved her.
And that made him weak. He'd always hated for making him weak.
Angel had sought to punish her when he'd lost his soul. He wanted to make her as weak as she made him. He wanted to make her suffer, but now she was sick.
When he'd learned about her collapse, the side of him that still loved her had wanted to rush to her bedside. He hated her for that, but still he was terrified. He'd gone under the guise of killing her, and instead met Xander.
God, how he hated that boy-child. Even more now, since he owed him a debt. If Xander hadn't been there, he knew they'd believe him weak for merely leaving her a flower and leaving. Instead, he was turned away. Anyone watching would leave then, trying to track him.
He slipped into another corridor, waiting. A group of nurses went by and he slipped past them. He'd shoved the flower into Xander's hands when he left, knowing he'd throw it away. It was a shame, he'd wanted to leave that with her.
Buffy was asleep in her room when Angel arrived. She looked pained, sweat glistening on her forehead. 'Kill her,' the demon in him whispered, but he wouldn't.
He still loved her. Angel kissed her forehead and left without another word.
