I wondered if I should go back into her room after I had eaten. Maybe I should just disappear, letting her believe it was all a dream. Maybe she would be happier. Come to a sort of ... peace, after I had forgiven her.
I looked into her room and saw her shaking with sobs, only half asleep, and my heart broke. It had broken a few times already that day. I wondered how broken it could possibly become. This was all my fault. Everything she was going through, and suffering, was because of me.
If only I hadn't followed Darla into that alley. If only I hadn't eaten that Romani girl. If only I hadn't met her. If only she wasn't so perfect that I fell in love with her. Now I wanted to die. I'd rather have died a million deaths than to see her like this.
She did look pretty awful. Huge, sunken bags under her eyes, pale, dirty, sobbing, terrified. Sick. She was so weak, it frightened me. So had fallen so far from what she was, that night before she had to sacrifice me. I was still a little angry with her for that. How could she? I know I couldn't. I knew she loved me. But maybe I meant less to her than she did to me, just because she was able to do that.
But then I thought of myself. I pushed her to it. Of course. Nobody could put up with me and not want to kill me. I killed Jenny. I let a sob escape my throat, a wild, scary sounding one. I had hurt Giles, Willow, Xander, Joyce, Buffy ... so much. Oh God, Buffy. I love you. I'm so sorry.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by her voice.
"Oh god, Angel, I'm so sorry. I ... It's all my fault. Please. Please, I'm sorry! I love you! Angel! No! I love you! I love you! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!" She cried out frantically.
I rushed into the room and tried to comfort her. It was all my fault.
I woke up and started to cry harder. Was my whole life going to be waking up alone and crying? But I deserved it. I shouldn't complain.
And then he was there. An angel. My Angel. Holding me and warming me and loving me. And I didn't understand.
I tried to wipe away some tears so I could get a better look at him. "Angel?" I whispered, terrified that breaking the silence would cause him to leave.
"What is it? I'm here, Buffy. It's okay."
"I ... I don't understand. How could you be? I ... I killed you." I whispered the last part.
"No you didn't. I mean, technically, but ... but Willow. Willow did a spell. She brought me back. She hoped that when I came back, you would too. I mean, not from the dead, from wherever you had run off to. From here. I tracked you down and I found you and I'm here. I'm here, and I'm going to make you get well again, and you're going to be strong, and go back to Sunnydale and be the Slayer and we'll figure out our relationship then. I still love you, Buffy. Please, always remember that I love you." He spilled out.
She let out a sob and traced a finger down my cheek. Oh God, how she felt. She touched me and I felt completely happy, completely alive.
And then I sobered up. I couldn't ever be completely happy. Especially not with her.
She whimpered a little. "What is it? What's wrong?" I asked, concern the only emotion in my eyes.
"I just ... I've had this dream so many times and I don't know if it's real or not and I'm so scared that I'm going to wake up and you'll still be in Hell because it's all my fault and I killed you and I don't deserve you or anything or anybody and I'm so sorry and -"
He put his fingers over her lips, quieting her. "It's okay, we can talk later. But you're sick and you have a fever. Try to get some sleep and I'm going to go out and get you some food and medicine, but I'll be back. I promise."
I tried to tuck her in and she protested but was too tired to do anything else. I stroked her forehead until she fell asleep, and went out to get supplies.
He came back, his arms loaded with things. He was having trouble balancing, and when he half fell over, I smiled. His eyes lit up when they saw that momentary smile.
He gave up and just dropped his four bags on the floor. Digging through one, he trimphantly came out with a bottle of some kind of medication and two cartons of juice. I smiled again, noticing the types. Orange and grapefruit. That was my drink.
He carefully measured out the parts and I smiled sleepily again. He smiled back. My eyes widened. I had so rarely seen him smile.
He sat down next to the bed and handed me two of the pills, and I gave him a questioning look.
"They'll make you stop throwing up, make your fever go down."
He handed me the juice but I refused to drink it. "I don't feel good. I'm going to throw it up."
"If you would just take the medicine, it wouldn't be a problem." he argued.
I shook my head and suddenly my stomach lurched.
"Buffy?"
Bile rose up in my throat. I got up and tried to get to the bathroom but I started falling over. Angel scooped me up and carried me there.
I started throwing up before we got there. I ruined his shirt. It was on his hands. My cheeks burned red from embarrassment. I tried to stop but I just felt worse and worse.
He kneeled me down to the toilet and started pulling my hair back. I started to cry and he whispered sweet comforting words in my ear and stroked my back. I thought he was being sweet and I was grateful, but honestly, I was throwing up. He was embarrassing me.
"Go away." I mumbled.
"What?" He froze, obviously hurt.
"Go away. I'm fine."
"Oh ... Okay. I'm ... I'm sorry."
I stole a glance at him as he got up and noticed the tears in his eyes.
That stung. I had to admit. All I wanted was to help her. And, yeah, okay, ew. So my hands were covered in puke and my shirt smelled awful and she was sicker than a dog but I still loved her. I thought she loved me enough to let me in.
She was probably just having a moment. Or I could have been crowding her too much. Hovering, acting like her mother. Yeah. She just wanted some alone time. Or maybe she wanted all alone time. But I wasn't going to leave her. Not until she told me to leave forever.
I dragged the bags over to the tiny counter and dirty sink on the wall that was supposed to be a kitchen. Her fridge was empty. I wondered how long it had been since she'd eaten. And how she was throwing up if she hadn't eaten.
I put a few things away and started to toast some bread in the microwave. No, not the best plan, but it was all she had. I put in some chicken noodle soup in next. Just as it was finishing, I heard Buffy's voice coming from the bathroom sounding terrified.
"Angel?!" I called. I hadn't thrown up in 5 minutes and I figured I was done. More importantly, I had hurt Angel, and I needed to beg him to come back, to tell him I didn't really want him to leave. Only problem was, I was dizzy and having a hard time seeing anything or standing up.
I leaned heavily against the wall closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to stop my shaking. When I opened them, I saw Angel rushing into the hallway, breathless, with worry written all over his face.
"Buffy? Are you okay?" he asked as I started to slide down the wall. I was sitting by the time he had picked me up again.
"Better?"
"Yeah." I tried to give him a small smile. "Angel, what I said before, I ... I didn't mean it. I don't want you to go away. I need you here. Please stay. Please don't go." By now I was crying at the prospect of losing him and begging him with my eyes. "I love you too much ... I need you."
He smiled brightly. Not even his little half-smile, or smirk, but a full-teeth, all-out beam. It made me smile too. I guess it's true. Smiles are contagious.
"Wouldn't even think about it." He quieted me.
"I'm still sorry. I was just ... embarrassed. I mean, I was throwing up. You didn't have to see or get dirty or anything and ... I don't know. Sorry."
"It's okay, Buffy. I really don't mind. I love you and I want you to get better and I thought it would help if I was there ... and don't be embarrassed. Nothing you do could ever be embarrassing. Only beautiful."
"Throwing up is beautiful?" I raised my eyebrows. He grinned, laid me on the bed, and left the room.
It was weird. I felt so happy beucase he was there and helping me and loving me, and awful cause I was sick, and lonely. There was this hole in my heart that would never be filled unless he was right there, with his arms around me.
Afriad he wouldn't come back, I started crying.
I didn't want to leave her alone for long. She was so weak, unproctected, helpless. She needed me.
But she needed food more.
I burnt myself by spilling the soup and let out a curse in Gaelic. I hurriedly ran my hand under cool water and grabbed the bowl anyway, hand still smarting. When I went into her room, I wanted to kick myself for leaving her alone.
She was crying. The poor thing was crying because I had left her alone.
"Buffy! What's wrong?!" I set the soup on the floor because of the lack of bedside tables. I grabbed her shoulder and rolled her around so she was facing me and started wiping tears from her cheeks.
"I thought ... if you had left ... for good ... I missed you." She tried to explain in a tiny voice.
"I told you I wouldn't." I started to get exasperated. I couldn't leave the room without putting her in tears. She needed to know that I'd come back.
"I know. Sorry." She mumbled quickly, dismissing the subject. She was so touchy with it.
"Will you eat?" I offered her the soup. She immediately shook her head.
"Please?"
"No."
"Buffy, honestly. You haven't eaten in weeks. You're throwing up stuff you DIDN'T eat. You're at an all-time low, you're sick, and I'm scared. If you're ever going to get better, you have to eat. Please." I held a spoonful of soup in front of her mouth. She gave me a tired look and opened her mouth, allowing me to feed her.
Finally. I did something good for her.
I was tired of arguing. I just gave in to him.
He spooned me some soup. Damn. It was good soup. I was completely starved. He was right. The bowl was empty in a few minutes. He offered me some toast and I ate that, too.
Yeah, I knew I was just going to throw it up. But I was too hungry to care.
After the food I felt really, really sleepy. Angel tucked me in and watched over me as I tried to fall asleep. But I was too cold, too alone.
"Angel? Could you ... would you ... hold me?" Oh. My. God. How could I?! He was going to say no, be mortified, be disgusted, be repulsed. I shot my eyes to my hands and tried to repress the redness that was coming to my cheeks.
He smiled. He actually smiled. He walked around the bed, laying down and hugging me tightly. I relaxed in his embrace and amazingly, for the first time in two months, I fell asleep soundly without crying.
I looked into her room and saw her shaking with sobs, only half asleep, and my heart broke. It had broken a few times already that day. I wondered how broken it could possibly become. This was all my fault. Everything she was going through, and suffering, was because of me.
If only I hadn't followed Darla into that alley. If only I hadn't eaten that Romani girl. If only I hadn't met her. If only she wasn't so perfect that I fell in love with her. Now I wanted to die. I'd rather have died a million deaths than to see her like this.
She did look pretty awful. Huge, sunken bags under her eyes, pale, dirty, sobbing, terrified. Sick. She was so weak, it frightened me. So had fallen so far from what she was, that night before she had to sacrifice me. I was still a little angry with her for that. How could she? I know I couldn't. I knew she loved me. But maybe I meant less to her than she did to me, just because she was able to do that.
But then I thought of myself. I pushed her to it. Of course. Nobody could put up with me and not want to kill me. I killed Jenny. I let a sob escape my throat, a wild, scary sounding one. I had hurt Giles, Willow, Xander, Joyce, Buffy ... so much. Oh God, Buffy. I love you. I'm so sorry.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by her voice.
"Oh god, Angel, I'm so sorry. I ... It's all my fault. Please. Please, I'm sorry! I love you! Angel! No! I love you! I love you! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!" She cried out frantically.
I rushed into the room and tried to comfort her. It was all my fault.
I woke up and started to cry harder. Was my whole life going to be waking up alone and crying? But I deserved it. I shouldn't complain.
And then he was there. An angel. My Angel. Holding me and warming me and loving me. And I didn't understand.
I tried to wipe away some tears so I could get a better look at him. "Angel?" I whispered, terrified that breaking the silence would cause him to leave.
"What is it? I'm here, Buffy. It's okay."
"I ... I don't understand. How could you be? I ... I killed you." I whispered the last part.
"No you didn't. I mean, technically, but ... but Willow. Willow did a spell. She brought me back. She hoped that when I came back, you would too. I mean, not from the dead, from wherever you had run off to. From here. I tracked you down and I found you and I'm here. I'm here, and I'm going to make you get well again, and you're going to be strong, and go back to Sunnydale and be the Slayer and we'll figure out our relationship then. I still love you, Buffy. Please, always remember that I love you." He spilled out.
She let out a sob and traced a finger down my cheek. Oh God, how she felt. She touched me and I felt completely happy, completely alive.
And then I sobered up. I couldn't ever be completely happy. Especially not with her.
She whimpered a little. "What is it? What's wrong?" I asked, concern the only emotion in my eyes.
"I just ... I've had this dream so many times and I don't know if it's real or not and I'm so scared that I'm going to wake up and you'll still be in Hell because it's all my fault and I killed you and I don't deserve you or anything or anybody and I'm so sorry and -"
He put his fingers over her lips, quieting her. "It's okay, we can talk later. But you're sick and you have a fever. Try to get some sleep and I'm going to go out and get you some food and medicine, but I'll be back. I promise."
I tried to tuck her in and she protested but was too tired to do anything else. I stroked her forehead until she fell asleep, and went out to get supplies.
He came back, his arms loaded with things. He was having trouble balancing, and when he half fell over, I smiled. His eyes lit up when they saw that momentary smile.
He gave up and just dropped his four bags on the floor. Digging through one, he trimphantly came out with a bottle of some kind of medication and two cartons of juice. I smiled again, noticing the types. Orange and grapefruit. That was my drink.
He carefully measured out the parts and I smiled sleepily again. He smiled back. My eyes widened. I had so rarely seen him smile.
He sat down next to the bed and handed me two of the pills, and I gave him a questioning look.
"They'll make you stop throwing up, make your fever go down."
He handed me the juice but I refused to drink it. "I don't feel good. I'm going to throw it up."
"If you would just take the medicine, it wouldn't be a problem." he argued.
I shook my head and suddenly my stomach lurched.
"Buffy?"
Bile rose up in my throat. I got up and tried to get to the bathroom but I started falling over. Angel scooped me up and carried me there.
I started throwing up before we got there. I ruined his shirt. It was on his hands. My cheeks burned red from embarrassment. I tried to stop but I just felt worse and worse.
He kneeled me down to the toilet and started pulling my hair back. I started to cry and he whispered sweet comforting words in my ear and stroked my back. I thought he was being sweet and I was grateful, but honestly, I was throwing up. He was embarrassing me.
"Go away." I mumbled.
"What?" He froze, obviously hurt.
"Go away. I'm fine."
"Oh ... Okay. I'm ... I'm sorry."
I stole a glance at him as he got up and noticed the tears in his eyes.
That stung. I had to admit. All I wanted was to help her. And, yeah, okay, ew. So my hands were covered in puke and my shirt smelled awful and she was sicker than a dog but I still loved her. I thought she loved me enough to let me in.
She was probably just having a moment. Or I could have been crowding her too much. Hovering, acting like her mother. Yeah. She just wanted some alone time. Or maybe she wanted all alone time. But I wasn't going to leave her. Not until she told me to leave forever.
I dragged the bags over to the tiny counter and dirty sink on the wall that was supposed to be a kitchen. Her fridge was empty. I wondered how long it had been since she'd eaten. And how she was throwing up if she hadn't eaten.
I put a few things away and started to toast some bread in the microwave. No, not the best plan, but it was all she had. I put in some chicken noodle soup in next. Just as it was finishing, I heard Buffy's voice coming from the bathroom sounding terrified.
"Angel?!" I called. I hadn't thrown up in 5 minutes and I figured I was done. More importantly, I had hurt Angel, and I needed to beg him to come back, to tell him I didn't really want him to leave. Only problem was, I was dizzy and having a hard time seeing anything or standing up.
I leaned heavily against the wall closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to stop my shaking. When I opened them, I saw Angel rushing into the hallway, breathless, with worry written all over his face.
"Buffy? Are you okay?" he asked as I started to slide down the wall. I was sitting by the time he had picked me up again.
"Better?"
"Yeah." I tried to give him a small smile. "Angel, what I said before, I ... I didn't mean it. I don't want you to go away. I need you here. Please stay. Please don't go." By now I was crying at the prospect of losing him and begging him with my eyes. "I love you too much ... I need you."
He smiled brightly. Not even his little half-smile, or smirk, but a full-teeth, all-out beam. It made me smile too. I guess it's true. Smiles are contagious.
"Wouldn't even think about it." He quieted me.
"I'm still sorry. I was just ... embarrassed. I mean, I was throwing up. You didn't have to see or get dirty or anything and ... I don't know. Sorry."
"It's okay, Buffy. I really don't mind. I love you and I want you to get better and I thought it would help if I was there ... and don't be embarrassed. Nothing you do could ever be embarrassing. Only beautiful."
"Throwing up is beautiful?" I raised my eyebrows. He grinned, laid me on the bed, and left the room.
It was weird. I felt so happy beucase he was there and helping me and loving me, and awful cause I was sick, and lonely. There was this hole in my heart that would never be filled unless he was right there, with his arms around me.
Afriad he wouldn't come back, I started crying.
I didn't want to leave her alone for long. She was so weak, unproctected, helpless. She needed me.
But she needed food more.
I burnt myself by spilling the soup and let out a curse in Gaelic. I hurriedly ran my hand under cool water and grabbed the bowl anyway, hand still smarting. When I went into her room, I wanted to kick myself for leaving her alone.
She was crying. The poor thing was crying because I had left her alone.
"Buffy! What's wrong?!" I set the soup on the floor because of the lack of bedside tables. I grabbed her shoulder and rolled her around so she was facing me and started wiping tears from her cheeks.
"I thought ... if you had left ... for good ... I missed you." She tried to explain in a tiny voice.
"I told you I wouldn't." I started to get exasperated. I couldn't leave the room without putting her in tears. She needed to know that I'd come back.
"I know. Sorry." She mumbled quickly, dismissing the subject. She was so touchy with it.
"Will you eat?" I offered her the soup. She immediately shook her head.
"Please?"
"No."
"Buffy, honestly. You haven't eaten in weeks. You're throwing up stuff you DIDN'T eat. You're at an all-time low, you're sick, and I'm scared. If you're ever going to get better, you have to eat. Please." I held a spoonful of soup in front of her mouth. She gave me a tired look and opened her mouth, allowing me to feed her.
Finally. I did something good for her.
I was tired of arguing. I just gave in to him.
He spooned me some soup. Damn. It was good soup. I was completely starved. He was right. The bowl was empty in a few minutes. He offered me some toast and I ate that, too.
Yeah, I knew I was just going to throw it up. But I was too hungry to care.
After the food I felt really, really sleepy. Angel tucked me in and watched over me as I tried to fall asleep. But I was too cold, too alone.
"Angel? Could you ... would you ... hold me?" Oh. My. God. How could I?! He was going to say no, be mortified, be disgusted, be repulsed. I shot my eyes to my hands and tried to repress the redness that was coming to my cheeks.
He smiled. He actually smiled. He walked around the bed, laying down and hugging me tightly. I relaxed in his embrace and amazingly, for the first time in two months, I fell asleep soundly without crying.