Numb
Author's Note: Willow shows up and tells Angel about Buffy, but what exactly is he thinking? The continued scene of her telling him of Buffy's death (S2E22 of Angel—the very end).
The numbness began in his heart. Ironic, considering it was already numb in his body. It even seemed silly—after all, Willow hadn't even began to say exactly what brought her here—yet he knew. Something was wrong. Something with Buffy.
So long he had lived, yet so little of it he had—still did—love her.
But the numbness spread nevertheless. A coldness so cold, it was almost unbearably hot. It ran through his veins until he couldn't move. By the time Willow finished her monologue with solemn tones and stutters, he could hear the gasps and apologies from his team, feel the concern emanating from them, yet he couldn't move.
He couldn't move. He couldn't think. He could only see her—Buffy—frozen in a snapshot of a memory.
He had loved only one woman in his life. (He didn't count Darla as a lover in the same category as Buffy.) She was the one. She had opened shown his humanity to the world. She had given him happiness he had heretofore never experienced. She was his soulmate in every sense of the word.
Because of her, he could open himself to the world. Because of her, he was able to go to LA. Begin friendships. Begin to love again. (Though never the same love as Buffy. Never. He was sure of that.)
He wanted to go back into time, stay with her. Go back in time and never leave Sunnydale after the funeral. She had asked him to stay forever after her mother's funeral, and that's what he should have done. He should have stayed. He should have saved her.
Suddenly all he could see was him and her. Memories overflooded him—the very first time they met. When he had invited her to the ice-skating rink. The night she had given him happiness. How she had promised him that she would always remember. How he had beat up Riley—but nevertheless felt a little bit happy when Buffy was able to move on. (Though they would forever know that Spike was right, that they would always love each other.)
They were so hopeful in the beginning...brimming with happiness. But they both knew it couldn't have worked. They both knew that they had to stay away from each other, as much as it hurt, as much as they loved each other. Romeo and Juliet, right? She knew that he still and always would love her...right?
No, of course, she did. She had to. She had to.
He should have stayed. He should have saved her. Oh my god, he should have saved her.
She can't be...she can't be. It's Buffy, she...she could be simply stuck in a hell dimension, right? She could be saved! It could be a mistake! He thought.
He realized his mouth was trying to form words. He tried to focus his energy in that area of his jaw, tried to aggregate his words to create some coherency. "Are...are...you...sure? I mean, she could be stuck in another dimension, it could be a-"
Willow shook her head slowly, and Angel looked down at his shoes quickly—he didn't want to see the pity in her eyes.
"No," she said softly. "It's not a—I mean, there's, there's a body."
Angel nodded for a long moment. "There's a body, there's a body..." he murmured. He kept his gaze to the ground as he sat on the couch, hands fidgeting.
Oh god, he thought again. I loved her so much. So much...
Buffy flooded his vision.
Cordelia waved her hand in front of his glazed eyes once again.
"I think he's in shock," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I really hope this doesn't turn him into Angelus or anything. God, even when she's dead she-"
"Cordelia," muttered Wesley in a slight warning tone.
"Right. Sorry," she said.
"Does this happen often?" Willow asked. "Because I know a spell that can get Angel out of a catatonic state, if that's what this is. I did it with Buffy before she—when she-"
Wesley shook his head solemnly. "He's just in shock. He just needs a little time-"
"How much time?" Cordelia said softly.
"It looks like this Buffy person was quite an important person to Angel," piped in Fred matter-of-factly.
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Willow asked, frowning.
"Oh, that's just Fred," said Cordelia, waving her hand in Fred's direction. "And that's Charles Gunn. He's the brawn around her, and she just came back from a demon dimension with us."
"Oh," said Willow.
Silence reigned for another moment, when all of a sudden Angel stood up and walked slowly to his room. When the door slammed shut, everyone winced. The air was heavy with sadness and everyone seemed to age suddenly.
"Anyone want a coffee?" Cordelia asked softly.
Everyone murmured their consent, and Cordelia brushed away a few tears as she began a pot in the kitchen. Wesley helped Fred upstairs in the meantime.
"I'm so sorry for your loss," said Gunn quietly to Willow.
"Thank you," Willow replied. "She meant a lot to alot of people."
"I can tell."
"So everyone here...you all help Angel?"
"Yeah. Savin' the world and all that."
"Even Cordelia?" Willow smiled a little at the lame joke, as did Gunn.
"Yeah, even Corde."
Wesley and Cordelia came into the lobby again, Wesley helping Corde with numerous cups of coffee. As they busied themselves with their cream and sugar and coffee spoons and small talk, they mourned silently for their lost friend.
It wasn't a surprise later, when Angel came down later that night with a duffel bag and plans to leave right after Buffy's funeral.
They all could see how much he needed it.