Title:
If it wasn't our lives
Rating: PG
Pairing: Angel,
Buffy/Angel
Spoilers: End of Season 5
Note: Angsty
"It's Buffy," My voice shook and all movement around me stopped. My eyes locked with Willow's and I could see the finality in them.
I don't know how long we were standing there staring at her; trying to find some hint of doubt in her face. Buffy could not be dead, she wasn't suppose to die, not now. She was beautiful and vivacious and not allowed to die. I gave up everything we could have had together so that she could live and they just take her away from me.
Wilow handed me a piece of paper.
"I have to get back, I just couldn't call, it ... didn't seem right."
She gave me a hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek. I was glad we weren't going to try to grow and share our memories of the girl who'd meant more to the both of us than anyone else could ever understand.
And I was left there, in the hotel, large and daunting, too quiet. I wondered where Fred was, Cordelia must have taken her home; so I could brood. I didn't want to sit back and think I wanted to destroy, kill something. I stuffed the letter into my pocket and started to take my rage out on the lobby. Anything I could get my hands on I tore to pieces, I punched holes in walls, tore off apolstry, destroyed anything and everything within my reach.
My fists were bleeding and I was so tired, I looked down at my hands and then all I saw was black.
When I woke up I was in my bed, my hands bandaged up, the note Willow had handed me. I groaned and sighed picking it up, I opened it.
Dear Angel, God I
really hate this. It's one of those stupid cliche'd letters that
start out with 'if your reading this it means I'm dead'. Pathetic
huh? I always thought it would be complete agony to get one of these,
especially since I'd imagine the only person I'd get one from would
be you and that would kill me. Ironic huh? I just never thought about
how hard it would be to write one. How could you sum up the whole of
your existence with one letter? I went out fighting, like I
always thought I would. Saving the world one demon at a time. Only
this time it was a hell god bent on bleeding my sister dry to open
some portal to get her home. Dawn may not be my sister, not for real,
but she is in all the ways that matter. I remember her birth and I
remember all the times she read my diary and the day we moved to
Sunnydale. They made her out of me, took my blood and created this
other person. Death is my gift, that's what this vision quest told
me. Death is my gift. I had to save her, I'd do anything to
save her. So if I'm dead she better be alive. If she's not then it's
so not worth it, even if the world is still all hunky dory if Dawn
isn't alright then my death will be in vain. God she better make it
through this. I miss my mom Angel. She'd tell me what to do,
hold me while I cried about weither or not I could really save Dawn,
fight some hell-god. Do you think I'll see her? Where ever I'm going
do you think I'll see her? Will she be waiting for me with open
arms? I love you. There. Three whole words to sum up
my existance and the point of this letter from the hereafter, or well
that's what it must seem like huh? A voice from beyond the grave, if
it weren't our lives it might be a lot weirder. But yeah, I love you
Angel, still, to this day, this hour, minute, second and to the very
second I'll stop breathing I love you. I never stopped. Not for a
second. Not when I told you I didn't trust you, not when I told you I
loved Riley. I tried. I tried to hard to just forget you and
move on and love him, to live the dream you thought I wanted; but I
couldn't. He left me anyway, because I couldn't give him my heart. My
heart hasn't been mine to give away since I gave it to you when I was
16 years old. Because I love you. It's that simple
fact that will carry me few the nest few hours. You may not still
love me, or want to be with me but you did once. That's enough to
keep me sane. I once was loved that much. Sometimes I
have this dream with sunlight and cookie dough fudge mint chip ice
cream. Of whispered promises, broken kitchen tables and the mature
thing that lasted all of two seconds. It all happened didn't it? It
happened and I forgot even though I swore I wouldn't. I'm sorry.
And dammit Angel why do you always make the decisions for me?
I used to be so angry with you. Cursing your name for leaving
me. Course I know now why. Not that I don't still want to hit you a
few times for good measure cause I wanted to keep you inside my happy
Sunnydale bubble. But I know now. But. I still love you.
Just so you know, I'm going to be the same old Buffy in the
afterlife. I'm going to wait for you on whatever otherside there is.
And before you get your brood face and think that there's no way
we'll end up in the same place because of Angelus and the things that
he did, just stop that thought. We will end up in the same place
because I know you deserve to be there even if you don't. So don't
forget me, because I'm going to be waiting for you. Forever,
cause that's the whole point right? I don't want you to just
drop everything but check on Dawn sometimes for me please? Just make
sure she's ok and make sure she knows I love her. That she is my
sister and she's never been anything else. Make sure she lives and
she's just a kid and tell the gang I love them. I promised mom and I
don't think I could bare to break my promise. Well I've got
to save my sister now, hopefully the world (which of course includes
you) along with her. If there's one thing I want you to know
it's that I love you. Have I gotten that across to you yet? You are
at the very core of me, inside so deep I couldn't get you out if I
wanted to - which I never did, want to that is. With my last
breath, I'll love you. -Buffy ps - look how much I've
changed, all waxing poetic and all
I hadn't cried in a long time, not since I held her in my arms while she chanted over and over again that she wouldn't forget. Yet here I was now, crying like a child. God, Buffy. I heard the door open and footsteps come closer.
"Angel?"
I looked up into Cordelia's concerned eyes, "She's gone. She's really gone."
