'You can't blame him.' Buffy thought as she glanced over at the restless figure on the couch, 'He's just moody from pain and exhaustion.'
It was an excuse if she ever heard one, but she was trying to keep an open mind about this whole 'Fallen' situation. She loved Angel, she would always love him, except him being a 100% ass wasn't helping her heart any.
It had been almost a week since she dragged him out of the park, and he was doing his very best to make her regret it. She knew it was on purpose, he wanted to leave for her own good, but at the same time he couldn't leave for both her refusal to let him and his ingrained Guardian need to watch over and protect her.
'There's got to be a way to fight this.' She thought as she sipped her morning coffee, 'Something I can do he help him.'
Over the last few days, he'd barely eaten or slept at all, which was a major contributor to his foul mood.
It had become apparent almost immediately that with Angel's link to the higher realm severed, he'd lost his ability to get energy from there. It didn't take long to realize it also meant he couldn't charge off of her anymore either, especially since that had involved a great deal of physical touching which was now impossible. That left sleeping and eating as his only options for energy, and both were difficult for a Fallen to achieve.
Giles had gone over every book in his collection, but the old tomes were useless for the first time, they just didn't have anything on angels. What little he found in other works, being mostly fictional or religious, which were a far cry from his usual scholarly works, only gave poorly depicted and often highly artistic versions of the lives of Fallen angels.
Seemed 'Physiology and Psychology of a Fallen Angel' was still in need of publishment. She had a bad feeling Giles was making enough notes on Angel's condition to do just that.
Rising from her chair and heading back into the kitchen, Buffy again scanned the cabinets and fridge, looking for anything that she might be able to offer her angel. She'd made him try a bite of pretty much everything in the house, to try and decipher a possible flavor combo that would be palatable for a Fallen. The only useful info they'd discovered was he hated the taste of pretty much everything, but at least bland foods were less offensive than richer varieties. The revolting taste wasn't as strong for something that didn't have much flavor to begin with.
With a sigh, she closed the cabinet door and wandered into the bedroom, passing by Angel rolling over on the couch again as he unendingly tried to get comfortable. His preferred sleep position had always been on his back, but the wounds from his severed wings prevented him from putting even slight pressure on them, and as a special added bonus of being Fallen, those wounds would never actually heal. A Fallen carried the raw, infected, unhealing scars of their lost wings as an everlasting punishment, a constant reminder of the price of failing your duty.
Wishing she could do something to help him, Buffy showered and dressed, figuring a walk might help clear her head enough to come up with a brilliant solution.
At first, she was hesitant to leave him in the apartment alone, but in his current state of barely able to sit up, she didn't think he'd be much of a flight risk.
"I'm going to run out to the store, I'll be back in a bit." She told him as he wearily opened his eyes at her calling of his name.
"Yeah." He muttered, his eyes slipping shut again.
"Do you need anything?" She asked.
"No." He mumbled, turning over again and facing the back of the couch.
"Okay." Shaking her head, she grabbed her purse off the counter and called back, "I love you."
Silence answered her back as she pulled the door shut behind her.
...
"Meal in a can?" Buffy spoke to herself as she read the label on a liquid diet drink, wondering if Angel could survive off drinking a few of these a day instead of trying to eat an actual meal.
Deciding he'd be unable to swallow the taste, she put the package of drinks down and began wandering the aisle again.
'How about some vitamins?' She thought suddenly, heading down the medical supplies the next aisle. 'So yeah, they taste blah by default, but it would be better than nothing.' Then she thought about how they made her stomach upset when she took them without food. 'Okay, so maybe not a solution after all.'
"Ahh chew!" Someone sneezed as she put the container of vitamins back on the shelf.
"Gazuntite." Buffy spoke automatically, having learned real fast when her and Angel had first started dating that vampires weren't too comfortable when someone said 'God bless you.'
"Thanks Buff." Came a nasally reply, causing her to turn and look at the sneezer.
"Oh, Hi Xander." She acknowledged her friend, quickly taking in his red nose, flushed skin and puffy eyes. "Let me guess, someone has been blessed by the Flu-Fairy?"
"Yeah, blessed..." He answered, taking a moment to blow his stuffy nose. "Uh, can you grab me the cold medicine? My eyes are too watery to read the damn labels. My luck I'll grab a laxative by mistake and really have a fun week."
With a suppressed smile, she answered, "Sure, they have cherry and grape, which flavor do you want?"
Xander coughed into his sleeve, "Doesn't matter, can't taste anything with my nose stuffed."
Buffy almost dropped the cough syrup bottle in her hand as the idea in her head suddenly ignited the little bulb within.
"What? Hey, where you going?" Xander asked as Buffy stuffed the grape bottle into his hand and took off to the neighboring aisle again.
"To try something!" She answered back, grabbing the packages of liquid meals and a few meal-in-a-bar for good measure.
...
Angel was still tossing on the couch when she entered the apartment, placed her shopping bag on the kitchen table and grab a can and a bar out of it before sitting down on the coffee table facing him.
He woke when she clipped a cloths pin onto his nose.
"What the hell are you doing?" He asked in an annoyed nasally voice as he reached to remove the offending object.
She slapped his hand away before holding out the canned drink, "I just want to try something, if it doesn't work, feel free to stay grumpy at me."
He eyed the drink wearily, knowing full well how nauseating food can be but literally also starving for something to eat. For the last few days, he was considering IV meals or using a feeding tube. "Fine, whatever." He mumbled as he took the vanilla flavored beverage, reading the side and preparing for the vile taste to declare war on his taste buds.
He took a hesitant sip, but instead of the onslaught of vomity reactions, there was nothing.
When he didn't look ready to hurl, Buffy's eyes filled with hope, "Did it work?"
"I can't taste it." He replied, eyeing her before taking another test sip.
"Then it does work." Buffy smiled, excited to find a loophole to get Angel eating again. 'Now just to find something to counter the restless sleeping and he'll be in a 100% better mood.'
Running his tongue around his mouth, he edited his earlier statement, "Actually, I think I can taste it, but it's not strong enough to bother me." With that said he chugged the rest of the beverage, hungry for anything he can eat to fill his empty stomach.
With a giant grin, Buffy handed him a protein bar as she took the empty can from him, "These are quick to eat and say they have as much protein as a full steak."
Shoving the clothes pin tighter on his nose, he took the bar and scanned the package, unsure how chocolate peanut butter would react in his mouth. Sweets were the worst so far in all the foods he'd tried to eat since losing his wings, he figured it made perfect sense since those had been his favorite.
Taking a bite, he could tell right away this item wasn't going to go down as well as the liquid. "Think I'll stick with the liquid diet, the crunchy, chewy texture bothers me with these."
"Okay." Buffy traded him the bar for another drink, glad at least one of the items worked. As he drank down the can, she munched the bar, agreeing it wasn't that great even for her working taste buds.
He drank another one after that before plucking the cloths pin off his nose, feeling somewhat content now that his stomach no longer ached with hunger pains.
"Better?" Buffy asked, eager for him to be in less pain, none if allowable.
Slightly he nodded, "Yeah." After a second he added, "Thank you."
"See, I told you we'd find a way to make this work, just one step at a time." She told him with confidence that everything would somehow work out in the end.
He didn't feel as if being able to drink a nutritional shake with a cloths pin on his nose was the foundation to them having a normal relationship again, but he could see the joy in her eyes so just nodded his head to go along with it, somewhat jealous he'd never feel the emotion himself again.
"You know, they sell that stuff in powdered form, maybe I can get a bottle and we can mix it here, find ways to make it extra bland?" Buffy suggested, eager to converse a little, he'd done little more than attempt to sleep for the last few days.
"Sure." He nodded, wishing he felt more lively than he did. Even with his stomach full, he still had no energy to speak of.
Seeing the bags still under his eyes, "Why don't you take a nap, we can talk about it during patrol tonight."
"Yeah." He agreed, laying back down on the couch and pulling the blanket up over his head to block the brightness of the afternoon sun.
Buffy sighed as she rose and headed back into the kitchen, her heart a mix of happy and sad. Angel had followed her during patrols each night, pushing himself to keep an eye on her. As much as she wanted to be with him, his looking at her like a job instead of a partner was hurtful. She knew it wasn't on purpose, he literally couldn't feel love or happiness anymore, it was pretty much just pain, anger or depression he got to choose from. The worst part was the only other emotion she could hope for was indifference. He couldn't feel any positive emotions, so if you wipe out the negative ones it left feeling nothing, which was about as good at it got for a Fallen.
...
"I haven't had a vision since my Fall."
Buffy glanced up from the magazine she'd been paging though to look across the coffee table at Angel laying on the couch. Forgetting the fashion article she'd been reading, she dropped the paper onto the end table and turned her focus on her brooding angel.
He turned his dark sad eyes to her, "I haven't even noticed until now, I can't believe I forgot about them."
Buffy shrugged, "Well they'd been dormant while you were a vampire, maybe being Fallen is similar?"
Angel shook his head, "I lost them when I lost my wings. All connections to the Power's realm are gone, even those."
Trying to see the good side, Buffy offered, "Well at least you won't have anymore 'middle-of-the-night wake up calls to go save someone."
His expression darkened, "If I don't save them, then who will? It's unlikely losing the visions means those people I would have saved no longer needed help."
Buffy blinked at that, unsure what to say. "Maybe someone else is getting the visions now?"
"Maybe." Angel said out loud, but thought to himself, 'Or more likely, my shit choices have not only ruined Buffy's life, by all their's too.'
...
Hours become days, then days turned into weeks.
Time moved unlike it had before, this series of time was far slower and less pleasurable than the pace in which her life had 'flown' by before Angel's fall.
But all in all, life wasn't terrible.
Yes, Angel was still Fallen, but things were getting better. At least as better as they could get when one lived with a lover they couldn't touch or be loved by.
The nutritional drinks were working to bring her angel back his strength, and the Melatonin she snuck into his nightly drink was helping him to get at least a marginally better nights rest. Buffy hadn't thought the natural sleep aid would work on an angel, but she had an idea that it was entirely due to the fact he didn't know about it that was making it work. If the Fallen were doomed to suffer, than anything they tried to do to ease that suffering wouldn't work, however, if someone else was doing something to ease that pain without their knowledge...it was just a thought, and it seemed to be panning out.
The grumpy, irritable mood that had caused a rift between them during their first week together with Angel being wingless was now mostly gone. He wasn't sunshine and rainbows by any means and he did get snappy occasionally, but his attitude for the most part wasn't soul-sucking anymore. If anything, he was fairly non-emotional now, but when she watched him closely, she could see the underlying depression that had taken root in his soul since the Fall.
Buffy would be lying if she told herself she didn't miss what they'd had together before her Guardian's ability to love was lost with the divine appendages. Her arms ached to wrap around him, her lips begged to be pressed against his, other parts of her longed for his touch, but she knew none of that would ever be an option again. The reasonable part in the back of her mind knew he had been right at the start, this existence wouldn't work between them indefinably, but the stubborn organ in her chest couldn't let go of the one she loved.
She missed making love to her Guardian, she missed his laugh and his smile, she missed their dinner dates and nightly snuggles, but most of all, she missed hearing 'I love you' being whispered into her ear and seeing the truth of the sentence reflected in his eyes.
The loss of love was the worst of everything that had happened when Ahriman had passed his judgment. The emotional fallout of this hurt as much as being torn from Heaven, it sometimes even felt a little like Hell. To have the one she loved so close, and yet so very, very far.
Shaking her head to clear it like the other millionth time she thought about all this, Buffy chanced a look behind her, barely picking out Angel's shadowy shape in the thick darkness. Much like the vampire he used to be, Angel still blended well with the night, moving like a silent death to any that would try to sneak up on one Buffy Summers.
She smirked at his 'Silent Brooding Watchdog' act.
Despite his warning, the only creatures that had come looking for her as of late had been the Earthly realm type, mostly vamps and a few demons, which were easily taken care of with her stake, or in a few cases, a sword or ax. Any higher realm creatures seemed to have forgotten her, or never got the memo she was a sitting duck now that her Guardian was powerless. Or maybe they knew she had a weapon that could kill them? Either way, Buffy was content to dust the few meager vamps that crossed her path and be thankful that the tatters of their happy life were holding together enough for them to get by.
The last few blocks of patrol brought them though an old cemetery, one with no recent burial plots and yet still seemed to harbor the occasional nest in the aging catacombs and mausoleums that that were plentiful on the grounds. The moon was a thin sliver in the sky, not offering much in the way of light, and most of that was hidden behind the thick clouds that meandered slowly across the sky, blocking out the twinkling of the stars as well as the moonlight.
The last of the streetlamps had ended at the cemetery's entrance, leaving the narrow unpaved path perfectly blended into the shadows. If Buffy didn't know this place so well by now, not being able to see without light might have caused a problem, like bruising her knees walking into gravestones. However, her Slayer instincts worked well to keep her shins safe from accidental trippage, at least she thought so until she yelped and dropped to her hands in knees.
"What happened? Are you okay?" Angel was suddenly beside her, his dark eyes scanning the blanket of black covering the ground, his eyes better accustomed to the darkness than hers but still seeing nothing threatening. Despite his eyes not seeing a danger, his gut told him something wasn't right.
"I'm fine." Buffy grumbled, feeling both annoyed and embarrassed. On instinct, she went to grab Angel's hand to help her up, then caught herself at his hesitant look. "Sorry, old habit."
"I don't think you tripped." He told her as she stood and brushed the damp dirt off her knees, silently hating himself for not even being able to offer her a hand up.
"What do you mean?" She asked, looking around and not seeing or feeling anything unusual. "There's nothing here."
"Exactly." He stated, "There's nothing here for you to have tripped over."
Wanting to forgot the tripping incident entirely, she dismissed, "Guess I'm klutzy and I tripped over my own feet, so can we go now?"
"Just be careful." He replied cryptically, driving her crazy when he wouldn't answer her with an actual answer.
They continued on for a while, not finding any new residence to the previous nest locations they'd already cleared earlier in the year.
"Well, I guess that's it for tonight." Buffy stated as she slipped her stake back into her pocket.
Angel made no move to disarm, his eyes still moving restlessly around.
"There's nothing out there." Buffy stated as she watched him for a moment, worried he would tire himself out over nothing.
He didn't reply, but kept a steady watch as they slowly headed back towards home.
Fifteen minutes passed as slow as humanly possible, all attempts to start a conversation having failed due to Angel's lack of reply had worn down Buffy's enthusiasm for the remainder of the night. The thought to just shake him was turning over in her head when he suddenly slammed into her.
It was the first time he'd purposely touched her since his Fall, and it wasn't a pleasant experience as she was tossed a few feet to the left and hit the ground in a less than graceful manner.
Slayer instincts kicked in and she was back on her feet in a second, her mouth open to yell at him when she realized the reason why he'd pushed her.
Angel was partly hidden behind what looked like a shadow, fighting what could only be described as an embodiment of darkness.
Whipping out her stake, Buffy jogged closer as she prepared for the offense. A second later, her foot kicked out at the moving darkness to the where a hip would be on a person. A shock of surprise gasped out of her mouth when her shoe connected hard with Angel's thigh instead of the creature she was aiming at, causing him to grunt in pain and drop as his balance was lost.
"Oh no, Angel I'm sorry!" Buffy apologized as she focused on the threat that had turned its attention to her now, although there was no visible head or eyes, she could tell it was looking at her from the feeling like roaches scurrying over her skin. The dim light from the cloudy night sky wasn't enough to give her a good look at what she was fighting, but her eyes adjusted enough to pick out a roughly man-shaped form that seemed to be made of unsubstantial blackness.
"Shadow demon." Angel supplied as he scrambled his feet, his hand absently rubbing where she accidentally kicked him. "They're rare, unsubstantial creatures that feed off fear, specifically a fear of the dark."
"Higher realm?" Buffy asked as she moved to stand beside him, afraid this thing could be a threat to her Guardian if it came from the Higher Realms, especially since creatures or objects from there could kill him.
"No, but they..." The rest of his sentence was left unsaid as the shade rushed towards at an alarming speed.
Buffy yanked out her stake and jumped forward with it to slam it home into the creatures chest. Her aim had been perfect, except instead of impaling itself, it moved right though her.
For a second, the world disappeared, the sensation of falling though a void filled with freezing air washed over her, making her mind spin as she stifled a panicked scream.
As fast as it happened, it was over. The creature as passed right thought her like she were the shadow instead.
Buffy shook off the feeling and spun around to face behind her, the Slayer watching with wide eyes as the creature grabbed her Guardian and sank its darkness into him, bringing a cry of pain from Angel.
For a second time, Buffy lunged forward to try and stab the creatures but her blow passed though it like a ghost, nearly stabbing into her angel instead. "Why can't I hit it?" Buffy yelled in frustration, trying to get of it off her Guardian, "And why can it touch you?"
Angel grunted as he elbowed the demon hard across the face and broke its hold on him, "Angel's can touch unsubstantial beings, similar to angel wings." He growled out as he fought it off, pushing at the weariness that weight down his limbs.
Buffy thought about that a moment, figuring it made sense as an angel's wings didn't exist on the mortal plane and couldn't be touched by anyone or anything, but could be touched by the angel they belonged to, and their soul mate if they had one. Apparently it didn't work to allow her the ability to touch the shadow demon.
Knowing how or why didn't help the current situation much, "Okay, but how do I kill it if I can't touch it?" Buffy fired back, getting nervous as the moving darkness came back at her Guardian again.
Without his strength, Angel wasn't faring well against the demon. "Light." He managed to growl out before the darkness bowled into him and they both went sprawling to the ground.
"Light?" Buffy asked confused a second before it dawned on her. "Oh, light!" She spoke aloud as she dug a flashlight from her back pocket and clicked it on towards the demon.
With a shrill cry, the beam of the flashlight dissolved the section of the Shadow demon it was cast over, instantly killing the photosensitive creature, the body dissolving like smoke.
With his opponent now dead, Angel kicked off the few solid pieces still clinging to him, forced himself back to his feet and doing his best to hide the pain from his face, muttered "Thanks."
Buffy had barely clicked the flashlight off when he started walking away, like some sort of army march back towards their apartment.
"Hey, wait up." She called as she quickly jogged into place beside him, easily matching his long strides.
Now that their lives weren't in immediate jeopardy, the million questions she would have asked earlier suddenly came to mind. "Where did that thing come from? How did you know what it was and how to kill it? Why did it have a mad on for you? Do you think it was what tripped me earlier?"
He hadn't immediately answered her, so she figured maybe he was thinking about his response, but the reply didn't seem to be forthcoming as they continued to walk in a now awkward silence. After a few more minutes passed without him answering her, she asked, "Are you grouchy now? You shouldn't be, under the circumstances, I think you handled that demon really well."
"Are you mad I kicked you?" She asked, confused on why he was ignoring her, "I'm sorry, I didn't know my foot would pass though the demon."
"Not now." Angel bit out finally, not breaking stride, eager to get back home as soon as possible.
Had he been anyone else, Buffy would have taken that as he was annoyed or angry or just being a jerk, but she recognized his tone as the one he used when he was trying to hide something, and now that she was looking for a sign, she could clearly see he was favoring his right side. "Angel?" She called, a note of worry in her voice, "Are you okay?"
"Fine." He muttered through clenched teeth, trying his hardest to sound normal.
Buffy didn't need to hear anymore to know the opposite was true. Angel's voice was strained and now his pace was slowing. She knew for a fact he was injured in the fight.
"You're hurt." She stated bluntly as she quickly caught up to him, her eyes scanning for the 'where and how badly'.
"I'm fine." He repeated, not turning to look at her nor slowing down. He had a feeling, a steadily growing one, he wasn't going to remain conscious for much longer. He wanted to be back home before the lights went out.
"Then let me verify that, it will only take a second." She asked, hoping he'd stop for a moment so she could see his injury and determine for herself how bad it was.
"No." Came his firm denial as he kept moving.
Buffy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from verbally lashing at him for being a stubborn ass. She knew he wasn't purposely trying to shut her out, he was just being overly proud and independent in his refusal of help.
At least it didn't last very long.
They were nearly home, less than two blocks when Angel stumbled. He'd caught himself from falling but the jarring caused an explosion of pain from his wound. He gasped, his face lost all color, then the world faded out.
Buffy had been watching her Guardian closely, waiting for the inevitable moment when his injury caught up to him. So when he tripped, gasped and blanched, she was expecting it when he dropped.
Grabbing him to keep him from hitting his head when he fell, she guided him to the ground and took advantage of his unconsciousness to finally see where he's been injured and the severity.
She hadn't expected the blood.
Ever since his return to Earth in the form of an angel, she'd witnessed Angel bleeding twice. Once was from the claws of the SoulEater that nearly killed him, the second was from the sword that severed his wings. Both occurrences were only able to draw blood from his body because they were of the higher realm, never had a any creature or weapon of Earthy means been able to physically injure him.
Buffy didn't know much about Shadow Demons, but the fact it drew her Guardian's blood made hers run cold.
Once the shock wore off, she quickly peeled up his bloody shirt to see the wound it had covered. Two deep punctures oozed thick red blood out of the right side of his chest as she watched, a third puncture had torn a gash under his right arm, visible though the slashed cloth.
"Shit." She whispered, ripping a wad of material off her undershirt to use as a make-shift bandage to stem the bleeding until she could get a proper dressing.
He stirred as she pressed the material against him, the sudden stab of pain working in reverse to snap him back to consciousness. He twitched then his eyes opened groggily before he shook off the heaviness. "What?" He asked, blinking back his confusion as he tried to get his mind to work.
"Shh, don't move, you're hurt." Buffy told him as she held him down, not in the mood for him to tear his wounds open and cause further bleeding.
At her touch he pulled back, "Don't."
When she didn't immediately let go, he pushed back hard, "Get off me!"
Like a slap, Buffy pulled back. After a second she realized her touch had been causing him likely just as much discomfort as his injury. "Sorry, I forgot." She apologized, feeling terrible for having caused him more pain.
He pulled himself into a sitting position, waiting for the ache and pain to subside enough for his brain to function again. When his pain was manageable again, he shook his head, "Didn't mean to yell at you, it's just...the longer you touch me...the more uncomfortable it gets."
Slowly, Buffy nodded. Understanding but hating every second of it. She sorely missed when her touch had been his salvation, not his damnation.
After what seemed like a lifetime but had barely been two minutes, Buffy spoke again, "How are you bleeding?" It was still freaking her out.
"Shadow Demons have sharp claws." He answered blandly, trying to work up the strength and motivation to get up. His vision was clearing, but the tinges of blackness still pulled at the corners.
"You said it wasn't a being of the higher realm." She hadn't meant for her voice to sound accusing, but it came out very much like it.
He turned to look at her, despite the pain he was in he could still pick up on her anger, "It's not."
Confusion washed over her face, "Than how did it draw your blood?"
Angel shook his head, "The rules for the Fallen are different than winged angels, my body can be damaged by mortal means."
As he said it, she remembered he'd told her that already, it just hadn't clicked. "You mean anything here can hurt you? Weapons? Demons? Humans?"
He nodded.
A fear she hadn't known before swelled in her belly, "You shouldn't be patrolling with me then, it's too risky."
Not about to be lectured, he gathered his anger and used it as fuel, forcing his legs back under him as he used the wall of the building beside him for support. "My body can be damaged by mortal means." He stated tightly once he stood, "But I can't die from these injuries. As I said, I'm still immortal unless killed by angelic means."
Buffy instinctively went to help him stand, but pulled back at his look of apprehension. "Are you sure about that?" Buffy questioned, wanting to believe he'd be okay, but still worried whenever he was hurt, especially when blood was involved.
"Yeah." He grimaced as he pressed her torn shirt against his wound, "Although often I wonder if dying would be preferable."
It took several tries, but he finally managed to regain his equilibrium enough to walk , Buffy standing close by wishing she could help support him but the no-touching was a serious dampener on that.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Buffy asked as they began walking again, well, as Angel slowly shuffled to keep from jarring his injury again.
"How about putting me out of my misery?" Angel mumbled with a note of attitude that was likely a sign he was going to spend the next few days being an ass again.
Biting her lip to keep from verbally lashing at him for bad suicide jokes, she just shook her head, "That isn't helping."
Silence fell between them as Angel trudged along and Buffy spent the rest of the trip listening to his breaths getting steadily more ragged and strained.
It seemed like forever had passed by the time they reached the apartment, both of them extremely relieved the elevator was working that day, since half the time it was 'closed for repairs.' Angel wouldn't have made it up the stairs under his own steam.
Once she unlocked the door, Buffy quickly entered and dashed into the bathroom to get the first aid kit. By the time she had it on the coffee table and some blankets spread over the couch to keep any blood off it, Angel had finally shuffled into the living room.
"Lay down before you fall down." Buffy ordered, helping Angel remove his jacket before prying open the medical kit for some gauze.
The act of removing his coat had taken more out of him that he would have liked, and the couch wasn't something he could pass up at the moment, actually, it was just the right place to pass out.
So he did.
He'd barely sat when his body went limp, slouching over as consciousness departed. Buffy dropped the gauze and called his name a few times, but wasn't successful in rousing him.
"Damn it." She swore as she clenched her fists, cursing the inability to touch him for the hundredth time already that day. In his current limp position, she couldn't properly reach his wound to treat it. Nor was him lying that way helping it either, as the pull was forcing it open and resulting in it bleeding more.
'How do I move him without touching him?' Buffy wondered, looking around the room helplessly trying to find a solution. When her eyes scanned over the stack of clothes she'd been sorting thought earlier to donate, an idea popped into her mind. Resting on the top stack was a pair of thick leather gloves that had seemed like a good idea at the time to buy, but the warm southern California weather hadn't offered much opportunity to wear them.
Until now.
Slipping the gloves on, she hoped this was enough to counter the 'touching hurts' aspect of being Fallen as she carefully shifted Angel so he was laying lengthwise across the couch and not slumped over it like a wilted flower, being careful to keep him angled so the wing stumps on his back wouldn't touch the couch and cause him even more pain. The fact those wounds would never heal left her feeling even more determined to treat the ones that would.
As she positioned him, he groaned from the pain the movement caused the stab wounds, but he didn't seem aware of her hands as she cleaned the punctures and applied dressings.
When his wounds were taken care of, she quickly cleaned up the blood and soiled bandages after spreading a blanket over him to help keep him warm.
When she'd done all she could, she sat on the chair across from him and waited for him to awaken.
...
Angel's eyes slid open as consciousness returned, blinking several times to clear the haze and focus on the world around him.
The ceiling came into view first, the smooth white washed paint looking a dark grey in the predawn light. Turning his head to the right brought with it a brief flash of pain, but it faded to barely noticeable as his gaze focused on the beautiful face on the woman across from him.
Buffy had fallen asleep in the adjacent chair, her legs were pulled up, knees to her chin as she lay folded up in the blue cloth recliner. A pang of loss rushed over him as he watched her sleep, missing the times when he could have been resting beside her with his arms wrapped around her. Guilt followed right behind, knowing she'd fallen asleep in that un-comfy position due to her having been watching over him.
'She doesn't deserve this.' He thought for the hundredth time in the last few weeks. 'I was different before, I could love her and make her happy...but now, I'm just a shadow of what we'd once had.' Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing slightly at the pain it caused from his wound, his eyes still roaming over her face, remembering all the smiles and laughs that had been such a part of their lives until his fall.
'I want to protect her still, to keep her safe...but it's me that's the enemy.' He watched her frown in her sleep, as if his thoughts were coming to life, 'All I can offer her now is heartbreak and disappointment. She deserves better, someone that isn't broken.'
Buffy stirred then, her hazel green eyes sliding open as she blinked and looked around. When they landed on him, he saw them widen slightly as she sat up, her voice heavy with the remains of sleep but sounding uplifted. "You're awake."
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." He replied, feeling guilty again that his stare had likely been what roused her.
"You didn't." She replied quickly as she rubbed her cheek, where the seam on the edge of the chair left a mark against her skin as she'd slept. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain? Do you want anything?"
'Like shit, Always, and for you to have the happiness I can't.' He answered in his head before given her a cryptic reply, "I'll live."
He saw the frown in her eyes even if it didn't pull at the corners of her lips. Buffy always had a way of putting on a brave face, even when she didn't feel it.
"Good to know, I was worried about the blood. I'm not really used to seeing you bleed." Buffy spoke as she righted herself and blinked the sleep out of her eyes, the hazel green orbs scanning over the dressings on his chest and arm as she stood and moved towards the kitchen. "I'll get you some water." She spoke as she vanished into the other room.
Angel gingerly moved his injured arm, wincing again at the pull of pain as he ran his hand over his face, 'You really should stop being a dick to her.' He thought for the hundredth time. He concluded he had the same thoughts too often these days.
It wasn't that he intentionally wanted to upset her, he just couldn't understand why she'd want to subject herself to living with a broken shell of the man she'd once loved. 'Still loves.' Popped into his head, he knew it with every glance she sent him, even spoke it to him occasionally. Those three words that had been Heavenly before were like a knife in his chest now.
His thoughts were interrupted as Buffy held a glass of water before him, "Here, you should drink something, to help with the blood loss."
"Thanks." He said dryly, more for the actual dryness in his mouth than aggravation. The overpowering gagging he'd first experienced when drinking water after his Fall hadn't returned, it was mostly foods and flavored items that caused the retching now, but the liquid still offered him no feelings of relief or refreshment as he drank.
Despite the lack of joy it gave him, the water did help hydrate his parched throat and was welcomed in his fluid lacking body.
When he finished, he noticed Buffy was watching him again, her big beautiful eyes clearly showing the concern she felt.
His thoughts twisted again and his mouth moved before he realized it. "I wish you'd stop looking at me like that."
Her blonde brows knotted down, "Like what?"
"Like you care." He forced himself to say, already regretting it.
"Like I care?" She sputtered, shocked at him. "Like I care?" She repeated again, this time louder. "Are you trying to say I don't care what happens to you?" By then, she was almost yelling.
"No." He said quickly, "I know you do care." Angel spoke as he looking at the blanket he was twisting in his hands, "I just wish you didn't."
Some of the fire left her voice, but her eyes still blazed with anger and hurt as she spoke, "I know what you're doing Angel. I know you're trying to drive me away. What I don't get is why?"
He was silent for a while, long enough to make her wonder if he would speak. Finally his voice barely audible said, "I want you to have the one thing I never could have."
Sitting on the couch beside him, but leaving the healthy distance he needed, she asked softly, "What?"
He took a deep breath and spoke softly, "A life."
She knew what he meant, but it didn't stop her from throwing it back at him. "I have a life, I'm alive, I live."
His gaze tore off the blanket in his fingers and pointed back up towards her, "That's not what I meant." Angel retorted before Buffy continued.
"Angel, my life is that of a Slayer, I battle demons so the rest of the world can keep on living their lives." Her arms folded over her chest, showing her firmness on the subject.
"That's not a normal life." He countered, feeling frustrated again.
"That's normal for me." She countered back.
He shook his head, his hand running though the dark sleep tussled spikes, "You're not the only Slayer anymore, you could have a slice of normal. You could be a wife and a mom, raise a family and have a real job. You don't need to waste your life living in darkness."
Raising a well manicured eyebrow she asked, "You think I'm wasting my life protecting innocent people?"
With the wind falling from his sails he replied glumly, "No, it's just. You could have more...I want you to have more."
"I'm never going to have more Angel, I understand you think a 3 bedroom home with a white picket fence and 2.3 children with a high paying job and a summer home on a beach is what I need, but that's not the hand I was dealt. I would be lying if I said I never thought about it, but I'm just not designed for normal. I used to want it, when I was young and naive, but this is me now, Slaying is who I am and maybe one day I will think differently, but right now, this is what I want...this is what I need."
Angel was silent for a while, before slowly nodding. "Alright."
Watching him closely she turned to better face him, taking in the slouch in his shoulders and the overall cloud of gloom hovering over him. "You going to tell me what this is really about?" Not for one second did she think he was this bothered by the 'normal life' idea again, there was something else eating at him, winding up his brood switch.
He didn't reply, and this time she knew he wasn't just thinking about his answer, he wasn't going to respond.
Instead of waiting for the eternity that would pass before he answered, she offered, "You're worried I'll waste my life if I stay with you."
His wince wasn't from pain, not a physical kind, and accurately admitted his feeling more than words would have.
Buffy leaned back against the couch, watching his face as she spoke, "You're right."
His head shot up, like she'd just stabbed him with a stake, his face pale, eyes wide, mouth open but not for words. He felt sick, despite knowing this was for the best.
She watched as what little color had been in his cheeks drained away, she clearly saw the broken look that washed over his face, fear and loss were visible in his eyes.
"I can't have a normal life with you, not as an angel or a Fallen." Her words were soft, but they felt like bombs in his ears. "I can't marry you, we can't have children, we can't grow old together."
He felt his stomach clench again, he prayed he wouldn't throw up right now.
"At least before your Fall, we could be together, we could have been happy together...and that would have perfectly fine with me. Even with the restrictions we had, a life with the one you love is never a waste. You can't spend your eternal life with me, but I would have been satisfied spending my mortal life with you."
He couldn't look at her, his whole world was spinning. Yes, he had started the wheel into motion, but now that it was actually turning everything was going by too fast.
Buffy was still speaking, not yelling or crying, just an odd steady calm voice which was so unlike the turmoil going though his mind right now.
"That's what you wanted to hear, right? Our relationship is over. You can't love me anymore, and I can't even touch you. That we have no grounds for a future."
His voice wouldn't come, but a tear slipped down his cheek when his eyes squeezed shut.
Silence fell between them, Buffy still watching him closely, he still too sick to even look at her.
After what felt like an eternity, Buffy spoke again, "I'm sorry my heart won't work like that."
Something in her voice made him look up at her, seeing the shimmer of tears in her eyes was like a knife plunging into his heart.
"You might have lost the ability to love, but I can't shut off mine. I don't have a choice. Maybe I would be happier if you left, maybe I'd find a guy to share a life with, have kids and live the shade of normal you think I need. But it's not going to happen, at least not because of me walking away. If you really feel you can't stay, if you really think leaving would benefit me...then go. I won't stop you."
Their eyes met, both wet with a mix of shed and unshed tears.
"Buffy, I..." His words seemed to have shriveled and died on his tongue.
"Go." She ordered, firm but without yelling. "Just get up and leave."
Tears slipped down her cheeks as she continued, "If you're going to rip my heart apart again, just get it over with, don't make it worse by dragging it out. I already told you I won't leave you and my heart can't take much more of this, so if you're going, do it now."
His legs felt like lead as he tried to put pressure on them and his gut was clenching painfully again. Pushing the discomfort aside, Angel stood, his eyes pulling back towards the small blonde sitting on the couch, her legs pulled up, arms around herself, tears falling freely down her cheeks and soaking into her shirt.
She wasn't looking at him, wouldn't.
'Go.' He echoed to himself in his head, 'Set her free.'
Slowly he moved towards the door, having to force each step.
He could hear Buffy crying, her breaths hitching as she tried not to.
His eyes switched between her and the door, his hand slowly moving towards the knob.
Towards a mix of freedom and damnation.
Buffy's face was pressed into her knees, arms wrapped around herself as her heart ruptured in her chest. She wouldn't look, couldn't watch him leave. Not now, not ever.
He'd walked away from her once, she knew it was inevitable he'd do it again. Angel had always had a kamikaze tendency when it came to their relationship, never feeling he was good enough or worthy enough for her love, which left him willing to throw himself overboard to keep the ship from sinking. What he never seemed to understand was the act of diving overboard was what sunk the boat to being with. They couldn't be in a relationship if they weren't both committed to there being one.
She'd let him walk away from her after he'd broken up with her in the sewer tunnels, then again after graduation. His retreating back was no stranger to her.
A soft sound not far from her made her tilt her head up, her back was to the door so she had no fear of accidentally watching him walk away.
Instead of being behind her and moving towards the door, Angel was standing in front of her, looking uncomfortable and shifting from foot to foot.
"Damn it Angel, leave already!" She snapped though muffled sobs. His still being here was making the pain worse, just like trying to slowly peel off a Band-Aid versus ripping it off in one motion, the longer you take with it, the more it hurts.
"Do you really want me to leave?" He asked, his voice tight.
Mind games were not what she wanted right now. Another tear fell down her cheek as she blinked at him, then she put her head back down and whispered "Yes" into her knees. 'Just make the pain stop.' She thought.
Angel felt the word like a shard of glass slashing his heart, but as he turned to walk away, he paused. All he had to do was take her word for it and leave, his conscious would be clean, he'd asked her and she'd told him to go. No need to feel more guilty as he was only doing as she'd asked. She had said yes, but he also knew beyond a shadow of doubt she didn't mean it.
Buffy looked up when she heard another sound, and was surprised to see Angel still before her, even more so since he'd dropped to his knees.
She almost asked if he was okay, thinking maybe he was still too weak from him injuries and had dropped from exhaustion, expect he was staring at her with wet sad eyes, they held pain, but not the kind that would bring a man to his knees.
No, that had been something else.
"Angel, what...?" She began to ask what he was doing, but he cut her off.
"Buffy Anne Summers, Chosen Slayer, I, Angel, former soul of Liam O'Connor of Galway, Fallen Guardian of the Powers-That-Be, hereby pledge the remains of my body and eternal soul to you."
Buffy blinked, not sure what she was hearing.
Angel continued, "I vow to uphold my duty for as long as my soul survives. Binding me to this oath and to you in any means in which you deem fit."
Confusion washed over her mind, like a waking dream one couldn't quiet remember or forget. A minute ago he was walking away from her, now...what the hell was he saying?
His words drew her back out of her thoughts, "You need to accept my oath, or reject it."
"Oh." She blinked at him, unsure what to do. Did she really want to bind him to her with an oath? What were the repercussions if he didn't obey it? Did she want to know or find out?
" Buffy?" He repeated, watching her with bated breath from his position still on his knees.
The nervous look on his face told her more than anything else could have, he wanted this.
"Okay, I mean, I accept your oath." She told him, trying to sound relaxed when her heart was pounding loud enough to wake the dead behind her ribs.
She watched him visibly relax as he nodded, "Then with these words I am bound to my duty by honor for as long as I exist."
"Bound?" She questioned, wondering what the heck she just signed up for.
Forcing his feet back under him, Angel stood, he might have smiled if he'd been able, "Falling, by definition, is a break of one's vow of duty. All I've really done was renew what I'd already vowed to you when I became your Guardian."
She blinked at him a moment before asking, just to be sure she understood correctly, "So you're not leaving?"
"No, not unless you command it of me." He answered, meeting her gaze and holding it.
"Oh." She replied intelligently, her mind swirling as she wiped her arm across her eyes, which felt hot and puffy, her nose a mess as well.
Wordlessly, he snagged the tissue box off the end table and handed it to her.
"Thanks." She spoke as she blew her nose and soaked the tears off her cheeks with a few tissues.
When she was done, he was still standing there watching her. Her cheeks felt terribly warm and she knew she was blushing, "Can you maybe sit and stop looking at me like that?" She asked, not unkindly but his stare was making her uncomfortable.
"Sorry." He looked away quickly and sat back down on the couch, on the opposite end she was on.
An awkward silence filled the air between them as she fought off the last of her running nose and teary eyes. She caught him glancing over at her often, like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to ask. Finally she tuned to him and asked, "What? I know I look like crap but is there something else?"
He looked down, clearly embarrassed, "No, you look perfect, I just..."
She let the 'you look perfect' fill some of the gaps in her heart and asked softer, "Just what?"
He looked up again briefly, his eyes looking venerable and uncomfortable before he looked back down at the blanket on the couch, once again beginning to twist it nervously, "I still can't love you, we still can't be together, my body and soul aren't worth much, but I've given you everything I have left to offer, is it enough?"
"Enough?" She repeated, not understanding what he was asking. "Enough for what?"
Dragging his eyes up, he slowly met her gaze, "Is it enough to make you happy? At least...for a little while?"
Her recently dry eyes and nose flooded again as emotion washed over her. Her aching heart felt like it just swelled two sizes. She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him until she couldn't breathe, instead she forced herself to stay in her seat as she pulled more tissues out of the box to soak up her liquid joy. "Yes." She told him though the chunk of love in her throat, "It's enough, you'll always be enough." 'He still wants to be with me, even if he can't love me or even be a good Guardian, he still wants to try. He's doing all he can, and that's more than enough for me.'
Happiness wouldn't come to him, but he was able to feel the release of the worry that had been clutching his chest tight, "Good." He nodded, relieved her tears were now happy ones and that he'd made the right choice. He knew this wouldn't last forever, that Buffy would eventually need more than he could offer, but the choice was in her hands now, and until she told him otherwise, he wasn't going anywhere.
...
The sun had long since set and the nightly patrol of the city, which had turned into just an evening stroll as nothing slay-able had appeared, was hours over.
She had been in bed, sleeping soundly for a good three hours before something roused her. Something was off.
Buffy, moving fluidly, slipped from her bed and into her robe, easing a stake in her pocket as she scanned the predawn darkness. First rule of slaying, never go anywhere without a stake. Armed, she then moved cautiously from her bedroom into the living room, her hazel green eyes in constant motion.
Her first glance went to the couch, where her Guardian had taken up permanent residence since his Fall.
There was no motion there, which was her first clue as to something was amiss. He was never still when he slept, so the blankets should have been wrestling with her sleeping angel. No movement meant no Angel.
'Okay, so where is he?' She thought as her eyes moved off the silent couch and scanned the rest of the room and kitchen, looking for whatever caused her Guardian to leave the couch.
After checking each room twice, she found nothing, not something to stake or her boyfriend.
The front door was still bolted from the inside, giving her no leads to where he could have gone.
"Damn it, where the heck did you go?" She asked aloud to the darkened shadows surrounding her.
A sleepy voice from the couch area behind her made her jump, "Where did who go?"
Buffy spun and clutched her chest as the blankets she once thought were vacant moved aside and Angel sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes and looking ready to jump up if there was an intruder, "Is someone here?"
With a sigh of relief, she shook her head and was grateful of the darkness around her so her burning cheeks weren't noticeable. "No, no I was just..." She trailed, not wanting to admit she was looking for him. "Sleepwalking" blurted from her mouth as she moved to sit in the chair across from him, feeling her cheeks growing hotter.
"Sleepwalking?" Angel repeated, expressionless as she blinked at her.
"Yeah." She mumbled, pulling her legs up in a futile attempt to hide behind her knees.
"Okay." He shook his head, not believing her in the slightest but not about to press her.
They sat quietly in the dark for a few long moments before Buffy's face cooled down and her nerves settled enough to talk, "Sorry if I woke you."
"You didn't." He assured, despite it not being true. Now that he thought about it, he was surprised that he had been actually asleep for once. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually gotten anything in the form of restful sleep since before his Fall.
"No, I did wake you." She admitted as she figured it out, "That's what woke me. You weren't tossing and turning as usual. The silence made he think something was wrong and since you weren't moving around I couldn't see you. I thought you weren't here."
"Oh." He said quietly, feeling guilty for making her anxious and worried, "Sorry."
A smile tugged at her lips, "You didn't do anything to apologize for." Her smile faltered, "The apology belongs to me, I woke you, which isn't exactly a 'no big' as you and sleep don't often mix well."
"I'm not worried about it." He assured her, not wanting her to feel guilty about anything, ever, especially not for or about him. "In fact, I think I'm ready to get up anyways."
"Are you sure? Rest isn't exactly something you get an ample supply of, maybe you should try and sleep again." She pointed out.
Angel pushed the blanket of and stood, shaking his head, "No, I'm awake now, might as well stay that way." He turned to look at her as she watched him fold the blanket up and placed it on the back of the couch, "Why don't you go back to sleep."
"What are you going to do?" She asked, curious and still guilty and slightly embarrassed she woke him over nothing.
He shrugged, wincing to himself as he remembered the action pulled at his stumps and the very recently healing wounds on his chest and arm, "Might go up to the roof and watch the sunrise."
They hadn't done that in a long while, it used to be a daily and nightly ritual to watch the sun rise and fall, when they weren't busy in the bedroom at least.
"Mind if I join you?" She asked, missing just spending time with him. She knew they wouldn't be snuggling as they used to, but it would still be nice to talk to him, he hadn't had the energy lately for much more than patrolling.
"I don't mind." He welcomed, wishing he could offer her a smile.
They had time, so Buffy changed into pants and a sweater to keep the cool morning chill out as Angel filled the coffee maker.
He missed coffee, missed not just the taste or the spark of energy it used to provide, but the warmth too. He could still feel hot and cold, but warmth just didn't feel the same. It was distant now, like feeling it though too many layers.
Ten minutes later they were heading up the back staircase at the end of the hall, the one that led to the roof access. Buffy held a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, held tight against the rooftop breeze with her right hand and a mug full of coffee clutched in her left. As Angel swung the roof door open, the cool air rushed downwards as they exited onto the roof and looked up into the slowly lightening sky.
"I forgot how beautiful mornings could be." Buffy spoke as they moved over towards their spot at the edge, facing the yellowing western sky.
"Yeah." He agreed, thinking back to so many different times in his life and to what mornings meant to him at that time. As a mortal man in Galway, mornings had meant hangovers and headaches. As a vampire they'd meant burning and death. As an angel they'd meant the start of a new day being Buffy's Guardian. Now, they were pretty reminders that no matter what path he followed or what choices he made, the sun would always rise and fall regardless of his actions. It was one constant in a long and constantly changing life.
"Angel?"
He turned as Buffy's voice called out to him, breaking him out of his thoughts. She was sitting on the air-conditioning piping that jutted up at chair height along the roof top, a perfect bench they often shared as they'd sat snuggled together under their blanket, watching the changing colors lighting across the sky.
"Are you going to sit with me?" She asked, her watchful eyes roaming over him as she waited for his answer.
"Yeah." He repeated, shaking his head of the past and moving to sit beside his future.
...
TBC...