Part One

Dying is an art, like everything else.

I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like Hell.

~Sylvia Plath


She braced her hands against her knees, her stomach tightening sickly as she heaved. Her tears silently streaking her once-tanned cheeks as she coughed repeatedly before collapsing to the hard, concrete floor, her tiny fists slamming against the cold stone as she screamed in pure, animalistic agony. Her small frame shook with heart-wrenching sobs as she emptied her shattered heart to the ground, her tears continuous flowing rivers of despair. Time past unbeknownst to the small girl as she continued to cry, her tears now silent whispers of pain and misery. Her body curled in on its side, gently rocking back and forth as she stared, her eyes unmoving as she mumbled repeatedly, "I'm so sorry...so sorry...so sorry...sorry...sorry." Her voice a mere raw, whisper.


It was early morning, days later before the Slayer pushed herself up off the dusty ground. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks dry and itchy, and her body cold as she slowly made her way out of the Crawford Street mansion. She didn't remember her walk back to Revello drive or climbing through the window into the room that once gave her solace. She moved stiffly and silently as she collected the few things she felt necessary; clothes, Mr. Gordo…she nearly choked as her hand came in contact with the rough, worn leather that was much too big. Her tears swam behind closed eyes as she briefly thought back to that night.

"Hi."

*I missed you* "I'd say it's nice to see you, but then we both know that's a big fib."

"I won't be long."

*Please stay* "No...you'll just give me a cryptic warning about some exciting new catastrophe and then disappear into the night…right?"

"You're cold."

*I'm sorry* "You can take it."

"I mean you look cold."

She silently reached for it, bringing it up to her nose and inhaling deeply. A soft whimper escaped her dry, chapped lips as tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. It still smelled like him. She gently swung it around her back, the wide sleeves slipping over her toned arms, encasing her, as she remembered how good he looked in it.

"It looks better on you."

Buffy swallowed thickly before reaching for her large duffle and making her way out of the room as quickly as possible. She didn't know where she would go but she knew she couldn't stay there; it wasn't home, she had no home…not any more. She tucked her hands securely into the cool pockets, her shoulders hunched forward as she made her way to the end of Revello drive.


It had been five weeks since Acathla… some thirty-five days since Buffy sealed Angel's fate as well as her own. She had moved into the once abandoned mansion… to an extent. It wasn't home; her home was in Hell, but it was as close as she could get. Angelus or Angel, it really didn't matter at this point, she just wanted to feel him, to know he was real and not just a figment of her imagination. Monday, Tuesday, Friday…they all blended together. She spent much of the days lying in bed, his sheets wrapped around her, and the nights sitting against the wall as she stared at the spot where he said he loved her for the very last time. The nights were always the hardest.

She didn't hunt. She didn't contact the Scooby gang. She wasn't sure if they were looking for her or not; she snorted at the thought, she didn't really care enough to put their worries to rest if they were looking, but she figured even if they claimed they were, they weren't looking very hard. No one had come near the mansion since that night. Still, she was careful on the rare occasion that she did leave the seclusion of what was now her…living space, which was precisely why she was wandering down dank, dark, abandoned alleys and side streets at this very moment. She didn't expect to run into any of them at this time of night but on the off chance that they were out, she knew they would never venture down the less-travelled streets of Sunnydale, which put her mind somewhat at ease. She didn't want to see them and she definitely didn't want to feel obligated to them.

Her walk was slow, leisurely. Her hands tucked firmly into the leather pockets as her thumb absentmindedly played with the ring secured on her third, left finger. She never took it off nor the cross that weighed heavily around her neck. They were the few memories she was able to retain that weren't tainted or marred with the thoughts of their very last time together. Every other thought morphed into that fateful night, leaving her sick and weak. In those memories, no matter how hard she tried, they always twisted to then, but there was no Angelus, no fight… just her lover whispering his love and adoration for her before screaming in agony, his borrowed blood pooling at the invisible wound inflicted by her hand as he looked at her in heart-breaking question.

"Hello?"

Buffy's eyes snapped upwards in confusion.

"I said that will be twelve sixty-seven. Cash, debit, or credit?" The boy asked in annoyance.

She shook her head slightly, pushing her thoughts aside as she silently handed the young teen the cash before grabbing her small grocery bag and making her way back out into the chilled, dark night. Lost deep in thought, she wasn't aware of the turn she had missed before she heard their voices. Looking up she saw Willow, Oz, Xander, and Cordelia walking away from the small coffee shop. Buffy felt her eyes widen and her breathing pick up as she looked for a quick escape. Seeing the dark, dead-end where the coffee shop's back exit was, she bolted towards it, her back pressing against the damp brick as she waited with baited breath. Minutes passed before she let out a sigh of relief. She wasn't sure if they had seen her but she took the lack of her name being screamed through the streets as a positive sign, and with a hasty peek around the corner, checking both directions, she hurried her way back to Crawford Street.


It wasn't until the next evening that her solitude came crashing down as a knock sounded against the mansion's outside wall.

"Hello? Buffy?" The person sighed before walking a little further into the open living room. Looking around slowly, they spoke, "Buffy, if you're here, I came alone…no one knows I'm here."

Buffy was surprised when it was Cordelia's voice she heard but she was still slightly nervous. At Cordelia's quiet words of coming alone, Buffy slowly stepped out from the hallway. "Cordelia?" She whispered.

"Buffy! Oh thank God!" She breathed before enveloping the much smaller, blonde woman in her arms.

"Um, Cordelia?" Buffy choked.

"Right, sorry…I'm just so glad to see you."

Buffy raised her eyebrow, incredulity apparent on her face.

"What? I am!" The brunette said defensively.

Buffy sighed softly, her arms wrapping around her torso as if to protect herself from an unknown threat. "How did you find me?" She whispered tiredly.

"Well after last night…" Cordelia watched Buffy's eyes widen in what looked like fear and her posture become stiff. "I was the only one who saw you Buffy." She murmured. The Slayer visibly relaxed, her shoulders dropping as she exhaled slowly in relief. "In fact, it was so unexpected and sudden that I wasn't even sure if I did see you, but I had to find out, so I've been driving all over Sunnydale. I didn't even think to check here until the last minute…just in case."

"Oh."

An awkward silence settled over the two, young women, neither knowing what to say nor how to act. "Do you, ya know, want to talk about it?"

"What?" Buffy asked, clearly confused.

Cordelia huffed loudly. "You know what Buffy. Why you're staying here, why you never came back, what happened…that night."

Buffy gulped before dropping onto the large couch, looking and feeling fifteen years older than she was. "There's not much to talk about."

"Oh come on Buffy, we both know that isn't true." Cordelia said in annoyance though her voice held no actual malice.

"There really isn't…we fought, I saved the world."

At Cordelia's raised eyebrow, Buffy slouched, drawing in on herself more before whispering, "He came back."

"Back? What do you…oh Buffy." Cordelia murmured, wrapping her arm around the Slayer's shoulders as she started to cry.

"He came back…he came back and I…I killed him." She whimpered.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered, her own tears coating her dark lashes as she let Buffy cry.

"I miss him so much."


Neither knew how much time had passed when Buffy's tears turned into soft sniffles.

"Thank you Cordy."

"Don't worry about it."

"I don't mean to…complain, but why are you being so nice? Last time I checked, we weren't the best of friends and you hated Angelus."

"This is going to sound so stupid but I've…grown up a lot over these past couple of months."

At Buffy's quirked eyebrow, Cordelia continued with a huff, "As in Daddy made a little mistake on his taxes…for the last twelve years. We lost everything."

"I'm sorry Cordelia."

The brunette waved her hand in dismissal. "Don't be, it wasn't your fault even if I am incredibly bitter about the whole thing. That's not the only reason I've…changed; helping you gave me a new look on life, you made me realize that sometimes there are more important things in life than where you stand on the high school popularity ladder. I admire you Buffy and what you do… I like being able to say I've helped. I mean don't get me wrong, I'm still the gorgeous, wonderful, Cordelia Chase who deserves the world on a platter…just with a few minor tweaks." She said with a flip of her hair.

Buffy smiled slightly.

"So, why are you staying here?"

"Oh um, well…my mom kicked me out."

"What? Why?"

"She couldn't accept this," Buffy said with a general wave of her hand over her own form, "and I didn't really have time to explain to her why I was going to a 'fight-to-the-death' with my…going to fight um Angelus at the time."

"Ah… but that doesn't explain why you're staying here."

"I feel close to him here." Buffy whispered quietly.

"Buffy, did Angel…did he remember…anything?" She asked quietly.

Buffy blinked back tears, shaking her head softly. "No, the last thing he remembered was my birthday."


"Why don't you want them to know you're okay?" Cordelia asked as Buffy waited for the tea kettle to whistle. Cordelia had left shortly after their last conversation with a promise to be back, and true to her word, she had come back on three separate occasions. Buffy was actually somewhat grateful that she came to visit. Though she only stayed for an hour or so, it still gave Buffy something to do aside from reliving past memory after past memory.

"Because."

"Because why?"

Buffy huffed. "Because I don't want to see them." She said, taking two mugs from the cupboard and placing them on the countertop.

"Buffy…"

"Cordelia, no. I don't…I can't be who they expect me to be anymore…I just can't."

"I'm not condoning their actions Buffy." The brunette whispered. "I just think you should, maybe, let them know you are alright."

"They seem to be surviving fine without knowing where I am."

"Maybe, but do you really want to run into them in the middle of the street at some random time when you are completely unprepared?"

"Do you never argue with Xander? I think I'd be unprepared either way." Buffy replied wryly, handing a steaming cup to Cordy.

"True. Wait, what about slaying?"

"What about it?"

"Well…you usually find, fight, tell Giles, he researches, then you go slay."

She sighed softly, "I…I don't…can't fight anymore Cordelia."

"But…"

"I…the Slayer doesn't exist anymore Cordy." Her tone of voice effectively ending the conversation.


Buffy awoke with a start, the damp sheets falling to her waist, his name still lingering on her lips as she panted. She brought her legs up to her chest, rocking herself back and forth slightly. She rested her forehead against her knees while closing her eyes, letting the tears fall. It was happening more and more frequently and they were becoming much more vivid, she recalled, as a shiver racked her body. She breathed deeply as she thought over what happened. Tonight's started just like all the others, a lovely memory of Angel and her that she kept dear to her heart.

They were in the cemetery that same week when the eggs for her health class turned out to be a big bad. His one palm had slid down her arm softly, the tips of his fingers ghosting over the curve of her back, landing at her waist, his other hand delicately traced over her shoulder, sliding into her golden locks before both hands pulled her closer. She ran her right hand up his cloth-covered chest, using his neck as a way to pull herself up as her other hand had wrapped around his shoulder, pulling herself infinitely closer, their lips meeting passionately. Just as she felt the tip of his tongue sensually lick the seam of her lips, begging for entrance, the scene had changed to the warehouse where Drusilla and Spike had holed up with the Judge. She watched Angel walk in confidently. She was about to tell him to leave, that he would be killed when Angel's eyes widened in fear. The Judge placed his hand on the vampire's chest and Buffy could hear herself cry out when he smirked.

"It kind of itches a little." *Angelus*

Her dream continued to flash through her mind, the next scene bringing a fresh wave of tears to her eyes.

"Yeah like I really wanted to stick around after that."

"After…what do you…?"

"Lighten up. It was a good time, doesn't mean we have to make a big deal."

"It is a big deal!"

"It's what? Fireworks…bells ringing…a dulcet choir of pretty little birdies? Come on Buffy…"

It was then, just as Buffy felt her heart shatter again, the picture changed to a dark, dank room; the air heavy and humid. It was quiet…too quiet. Buffy slowly walked along the sandy ground, looking all around, trying to figure out where exactly she was when a bright light emanated a short distance in front of her. She felt her breath catch as he stood before her in just a pair of dark, drawstring pants. He looked directly at her, looking deep into her eyes.

"It was the best of my existence." He said firmly.

She went to reach out for him when suddenly, almost as if looking through binoculars, the next frame blurred out around the edges, the center focused on her soul mate's form; his arms spread wide, his wrists hanging limply from heavy, iron shackles as his head rolled listlessly, his knees bent like they had buckled, no longer able to support his hulking frame. Like he could feel her eyes on him, his head snapped up, his eyes penetrating hers before throwing his head back and screaming her name.

Buffy shivered again, a nauseating feeling overcoming her slight frame as she sat curled on his bed. It was Hell…he was chained in Hell. But the other memories, they were from the past, it couldn't be prophetic…could it? She didn't understand in the slightest.


She felt like screaming. Climbing to highest peak in all of Sunnydale and screaming until she could no longer breathe. It was the same every night, her eyes would eventually close as her body gave into the sleep it so desperately required and every night she would wake up panting and sweating, her body shaking as she whispered his name. It was making her ill…literally. Her skin was sallow and pale, her frame much thinner and weaker. Her eyes were dull, dark circles marring the once luminescent skin. They were getting worse, more detailed and more excruciatingly painful. Before, it was as if she was an innocent bystander just observing the scene, but now, now she was seeing them through the individual who was present in each scene…it was her hands that would move, her lips that would open to speak; it was virtual reality and she was terrified. The harsher they got, the harder she tried to stay awake. She grabbed his leather coat from the side of the couch before making her way out of the mansion. As hard as she had tried to stay awake tonight, she had drifted off into a deep sleep. Her body, eventually winning the battle, reached for that which it had lacked for the last three consecutive nights. A tremor shook her body as she remembered tonight's "dream".

At first she thought it was Angel, the way he quietly crept into her room, his gentle and soft movements. She wasn't sure whose eyes she was viewing this dream from but she couldn't tear them away as she watched in fascination as he sat on the edge of her bed, his eyes locked firmly on her sleeping form. Her bottom lip shook in vain attempt to keep her tears back as she watched his large hand drift along her cheek, his face showing an almost reverent look as he watched, mesmerized as the back of his finger traced her temple, following the curve of her delicate cheekbone before drifting away as he neared her jaw. A lone tear slipped from the corner of her eye as she blinked, a silent choke catching in her throat as she watched him take out a piece of paper and a single charcoal stick.

Buffy gripped the cold concrete slab next to her as she hunched over, her body shaking as it attempted to expel the contents of her empty stomach. She coughed and hiccupped as she heaved. Angelus. She felt the tears swim behind her closed lids as she tried hopelessly to push the sight of him gently stroking her sleeping face away. She never heard the vampire behind her until it was too late. She felt the hard strike to her back and stumbled forward, her hands gripping the damp grass as she caught herself.

"Slayer."

Buffy shook her head.

"Is the Slayer scared?" He taunted.

"Leave me alone and I won't kill you."

He snarled before charging towards her. She twisted to the left and kicked him in the back, sending him sprawling to ground. He jumped back up, aiming an upper cut to her jaw. She dodged, not realizing his other hand was poised in a fist, aiming for her midsection. She hunched over, pain shooting through her abdomen. She stumbled backwards as she felt a very faint tingle at the base of her spine; her eyes wildly searching in vain attempt to see through the shadows for the cause as her opponent advanced predatorily towards her. He dealt a swift kick to the side of her temple, her knees collapsing beneath her as her vision swam. He held the back of her head, his dirt-covered fingers gripping her hair painfully as he tilted her head upwards. She saw his yellow eyes flash in hunger and pride, his mouth open wide as his fangs reached for her pulsing jugular. She whimpered weakly, her ears ringing and her head pounding. The tingle in her spine spiked sharply as she heard a faint but distinct growl. Her blurry eyes snapped open, she knew that growl. Both surprise and confusion marred her features as she watched the vampire's eyes widen before he burst into dust. With the vampire's hand now gone, she collapsed backwards, her weak, battered body unable to support itself. Images swam behind her closed eyes as her breathing picked up.

"I was hoping I'd find you here…you're here on a date...maybe I like you...you even look pretty when you go to sleep…I really can't be around you...all I can ever think about is how badly I want to kiss you…they restored my soul…I can walk like a man, but I'm not one…I just gotta walk away from this…you think I want anything to happen to you…do you think I could stand it…crazy…like a two hundred, forty-one year old being jealous of a high school junior…maybe it bothers me a little…I'm just trying to protect you…this could get out of control…I hear this place sells coffee…I thought, maybe, you and I could get some sometime…I always wished I could meet someone exciting…interesting…do you love me…there's a rink out past Route 17…it's closed on Tuesdays…you shouldn't have to touch me when I'm like this…kiss me…It's a Claddagh ring…the hands represent friendship, the crown represents loyalty, and the heart…it means you belong to somebody…I love you…I try not to but I can't stop…Buffy…I'm more interested in the Slayer…you can't do it…you can't kill me…I'm the one who should be sorry…you thought I stopped loving you…I never did…I feel like I haven't seen you in months…I love you."

Each memory faded and blurred into the next. She closed her eyes tightly; love, pain, and despair radiating from her in waves. Tears pushed themselves from between her closed lashes as memories broke from their cages, banging and screaming for release. Her body shook and her soul wept as she cried out. The images halted just as fast as they came, a picture of their rings clashing together as they gave themselves to one another physically, a soft, frail voice drifting from the sound, a whispered "save him" permeating her dark mind. Angel's bruised and battered figure appeared, his wrists raw and his body bloody as his brown eyes locked with her hazel ones. "Buffy." Her eyes snapped open, her back arched, his name an ear-piercing scream from her lips before her eyes shut, her body collapsing as the Slayer slipped into a state of unconsciousness.


Buffy's quiet moan broke the silence of Restfield Cemetery. Her body snapped up, wincing at the pain inflicted from the fight though she paid no notice as she jumped up, walking quickly and determinedly out the gates. In the words of Angelus, things were about to get very interesting.


:)