Title: What We Live For
TV Show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Author: Beloved Slayer
Rating: T
Summary: Buffy decides to rescue Angel from the hell dimension. Angelus objects, and soon finds himself emotionally vulnerable. Part II.
Author's Notes: It's been close to a year, but I finally decided to put up a part two of my Blood On Your Hands series which includes a previous story of the same title. Some readers might need to read that story in order to be caught up with the plot for this one. Characters don't belong to me, and the storyline takes place in an alternate universe. I also have to point out that Angel and Angelus are completely separated from each other; Angelus is no longer occupying Angel's body, or mind. Lastly, warnings include language and lack of fluffiness. Enjoy.
Chapter One
Perching on the end of her unstable desk, she dabs a dry cloth over the elongated blade, her eyes narrowed into slits, her mind too absorbed with the task at hand to notice anything else. "What the hell are you doing, Slayer? You're not ready to go down there. Have you considered that it's a suicide mission? Put the dagger down, will ya?" a familiar, arrogant male voice barked from behind.
Angelus. The One with the Angelic Face. The Scourge of Europe. The vampire who brought torment and suffering wherever he went.
Buffy was no longer startled by his sudden appearance. Whether in dream or in person, he would always lurk in the shadows of her room, much to her discontent. "No, I will not. And what does it look like I'm doing? I'm going down there to save him. You're not gonna tell me what to do," she responded harshly, not taking her eyes off the sharpened dagger as it flickered under the dim light of the portable desk lamp.
"You're a fool," he bit back, his body now pacing in front of the windowsill. A puzzled look etched his face as he tried to understand her determination to rescue his alter ego. "Taking a risk for him? You and I both know that you're a goddamn fool, Slayer."
Not a moment later, she whirled to face him, anger causing her face to turn scarlet. "Am I? What am I supposed to do? Sit on my ass and wait for him to come back? I can't keep doing nothing. I can't go to sleep at night knowing that they're hurting him. Do you have any idea how much the thought of that kills me? How much it eats me on the inside? I can't stand aside and do nothing!" She rose to her feet, covering the distance between them until her eyes bored holes into his. His nostrils flared, but Angelus remained silent, a soft growl emanating from his chest.
"I could never understand why he loved you. Why you love each other. Why you're willing to risk your expendable life to save his when he should be the one bowing to your knees, begging for forgiveness. Love is for the weak. It shouldn't exist. It shouldn't matter at all," he scolded in an unsuccessful attempt at convincing himself. But a rare look of loneliness that beamed at his eyes had the Slayer ponder otherwise.
"It doesn't stop me from doing my job. As much as you hate that love, it's the one thing that no demon or human could ever take away from. You've seen how we fight, how we bond. Of all vampires, you should know that not even you had the power to destroy it. You can't kill something that not even you can understand. He's not in you, but it doesn't matter. No matter how much you hate him, you're still him. You still wear his face, his movements, and that means...you're still the one freaky vampire I fell in love with. And even if I didn't love you, both sides of you, it doesn't stop me from giving a damn about what happens to you or to him."
"Lies," he muttered, shaking his head in a motion resembling bewilderment and child-like hurt, but Buffy detected that same vulnerability from earlier, no matter how much he was trying to repel it.
"Angelus, look at me, and tell me this: do you hate me for what I did to you?" she placed a finger underneath his cold chin, fearing that he might retaliate against her touch. But to her relief, he didn't move. Only studied every feature and curve of her face with equal wonder, hatred, and frustration.
"I did. I wanted to kill you for it. And I still despise you with every ounce of cold blood that runs through my veins. If I had the power, you would have been dead by now."
"But it didn't stop you from helping me from falling apart. Do you remember that?" she pointed out without given thought.
He struggles to keep some semblance of himself intact. "That I do, unfortunately. But a part of me recognizes that you're his and I's mate. I'm not afraid to break a neck should someone stupid enough tries to touch you. But it doesn't mean that I love you. I don't know of that concept. He does. Now, are we done with the press conference? Or should you risk me having to snap your neck as well, lover?"
"I'm done with you and the split personality that you don't seem to have control over. But I'm still heading down there. And you're not gonna force me to stay here. You can kill me, you can threaten me, but I am still gonna save him. Whatever it takes to bring him back," she declared.
"And I'm not taking the chance of letting you go, Slayer. They'll be expecting you. They'll kill you before you can take a breath."
A sword and dagger placed inside her pant leg and hem and then, "Nothing, in heaven or hell, nor the Powers That Be, will stop me from reaching him. He matters too much for me to lose. Like I said, it's something that you will never understand. And if he's the monster that he was when his soul was gone, I will kill him. Again." With that, Angelus said nothing, but a lump in his throat soon followed that silence.
Leaving him stunned, she swims through the open window, landing gracefully onto the rain laden grass. She heaves a sigh of relief in that he didn't force her to remain still.
No matter how long it took, she silently promised that somehow, she would return Angel to where he belonged: home.
If he was the creature that he was before, the vampire without a soul, he would soon be a pile of ashes.
She expected nothing else.
To be continued with Part III.