Phoenix
By Cynamin
Part Six
Buffy was at a threshold. It was both mental and literal and it scared her to death. There was a door in front of her, a very real door, and behind it was pain and sadness. Behind it was a past she had yet to deal with.
She reached towards the door handle, then stopped herself, trembling slightly. Could she do this? She remembered Giles' words about putting her past behind her, and knew that she had to. Could she, though? Was she ready?
Putting the past behind her was a frightening concept. It meant going through a lot of pain that she'd buried inside herself. It also meant fully ending one chapter of her life. It meant saying goodbye.
Buffy hated the word "goodbye" now. She supposed that was in part because he had never said it to her, and she had never said it back. In some ways, that had left a little bit of hope, if not that they might someday be together, but that they would at least see each other again. Now, that wasn't going to happen. Buffy didn't know that she was ready to say goodbye to Angel.
Behind this door was an ending…. Behind this door was a first step to a new beginning.
Behind this door were friends.
Well, sort of….
Buffy opened the door.
The interior of Angel Investigations was dark as usual, the blinds pulled completely shut. It was dead silent inside, and Buffy shivered. She was not surprised to find it like this. What else could she have expected? She was surprised, though, to find the door open. It was as if any minute business would continue here as usual.
The elevator suddenly started and Buffy jumped. For a second she wondered if she was really hearing it at all, or if it was merely a ghost of her memory. If she was just imagining it, then Angel would step from the elevator and look at her in surprise, then smile slightly at her like he used to. If she imagined hard enough she could even believe that she felt him nearby, just like she always used to.
It was amazing what the imagination could do.
The door to the elevator opened with a clatter, and Buffy was somewhat surprised to see Cordelia emerge. She gave a bright and oddly relieved smile upon seeing Buffy.
"Thank God you're here!" Cordelia said, and Buffy got the impression that she could have received a hug as well. It baffled her, to say the least. She'd hardly expected to be welcome here, let alone this welcome.
"Cordelia?" she asked. "What…?"
"What took you so long!?" Cordelia demanded suddenly.
"So long? I…"
"I mean, I spoke to Giles almost a week ago! I thought you'd come running right down here and…"
"What are you talking about?!" Buffy yelled, seeing Cordelia wasn't going to let her get a word in.
Cordelia's torrent of words stopped abruptly and her smile changed into a scowl. "Giles didn't tell you?" she asked finally.
"Tell me what?!" Buffy demanded in frustration.
Cordelia did not answer her. Instead she asked a question of her own. "Why are you here then?"
Buffy sighed. "I'm trying to… I don't know, exactly. Maybe I just wanted…to say goodbye?" Her heart was in her throat at the thought.
Cordelia looked at her warily. "That's it? You think you can do that? Because I'm not going to let you forget the mess you caused the last time you were here."
Buffy cringed at her words. "I won't forget," she whispered. As if she could…
Cordelia looked at her sympathetically for a moment, then her expression went stern once again. "Good," she said strongly.
Buffy did not move from where she stood, and neither did Cordelia. They just stared each other down for a moment. Each refused to be intimidated by the other.
Finally Cordelia sighed. "You know if we didn't need you I'd be kicking you out right now."
"I know," Buffy said, not moving.
Neither said anything for another moment. Buffy waited impatiently, but Cordelia apparently wasn't going to give her what she wanted. "What do you need me for?" she prompted.
Cordelia looked at her a second longer. "Giles didn't tell you anything?"
Buffy shrugged. "Aside from 'go on vacation, Buffy, and have a nice trip'? No, not a thing."
Still Cordelia hesitated for a moment.
"Cordelia, please!"
"I'm thinking!" the ex-cheerleader snapped. She shook her head then. "It's easier if I show you," she said.
"Then show me," Buffy said, trying her hardest to be patient.
Cordelia said nothing more for the moment and walked back towards the elevator. After a moment Buffy followed her. Cordelia waited until Buffy was in the elevator with her, then closed the gate and made the elevator descend.
Buffy was shaking, her throat tight with potential tears, as they descended into Angel's apartment. She wondered if it still looked like she remembered, or if Cordelia and Wesley had started to pack up Angel's things. She wasn't sure which concept frightened her more.
The first thing Buffy was aware of downstairs was Wesley's voice. Actually, she could hear him over the machinery of the elevator before it came to a complete stop.
"Hold still," he was saying in his stuffy, British voice. He sounded even more annoyed than usual. "I'll never get done here if you don't hold still!"
The elevator came to sudden rest, and Cordelia pulled back the door. She shot Buffy a look that said 'do you see what I have to put up with?' and gestured Buffy into the apartment.
The apartment had not changed a bit, and Buffy felt her stomach tie itself into knots. Something was strange here…she felt something else…
"You're already healing too slowly!" Wesley's voice came from out of sight. "If you don't let me put these bandages on… Come back here!"
Buffy did not have to wait much longer to find out who the ex-Watcher was yelling at. A moment later the reluctant patient emerged from Angel's bedroom, and Buffy gasped. He was shirtless, his chest partially bandaged. He couldn't be here, this achingly familiar face…one she knew and loved. She'd spent the last 2 weeks mourning him, and yet…
"Buffy?" he asked in that half question she knew so well, his voice barely above a whisper.
She could not help but respond in kind. "Angel?"
His response surprised her, though. Instead of smiling, or extending words of greeting, he simply nodded as if that confirmed something and stood there, looking at her.
"What?" Buffy asked, far too confused to ask the full question that plagued her. 'What the hell's going on here?' might have been closer.
Cordelia put a hand on her shoulder, and Buffy looked at her to find her smiling slightly. "It's all right," Cordelia whispered. "Actually, that's far more recognition than he's shown anyone else. He knows your name." She shrugged.
"I… I don't understand," Buffy said finally, all the while aware that Angel was still watching her.
Cordelia sighed. "Angel," she said firmly, "go back and let Wesley finish bandaging your wounds, okay?" She looked back at Buffy. "It's like talking to a three year old sometimes," she muttered. Still, Angel hadn't moved. "Go on!"
"But…" Angel began, his eyes locked with Buffy's.
"I'll come," Buffy said. He did not smile, but headed back to his room, expecting her to follow. She looked back at Cordelia for a second before she did so. "Let me guess," she said briefly. "Some form of amnesia?" Either that or brain damage, and she really didn't want to think about that.
Cordelia nodded. "He doesn't remember…well, anything," she said. "Contrary to this little display, he normally acts his physical age at least. So Wesley doesn't think he's…impaired or anything."
Buffy nodded, taking comfort in that small fact. "You can tell me the rest in a minute," she said. She did not wait for a response, but walked into Angel's room, following him as she had promised.
He was sitting on the bed when she came in. Wesley was sitting in the chair next to him, apparently trying to reapply the bandage on his chest with little success. It got messed up again as Angel turned at her entrance, his gaze immediately catching her own. Wesley gave a little sigh of defeat looking at the ruined tape and sat back in his chair.
Buffy broke eye contact with Angel for a moment to look at Wesley. "I'll take care of it," she said. Wesley nodded and relinquished the chair with some relief and left the two of them alone in the room.
Once he was gone Buffy walked around the bed to pick up the first aid kit he'd been using. Instead of taking a seat in the chair, though, she sat beside him on the bed. For a moment she did nothing and said nothing, uncertain of what her welcome would be. She didn't know how to deal with him anymore, and that scared her. Things had been so terrible the last time they had spoken. And then…his death… Where did she even begin to deal with this?
Maybe she should begin by making this right.
Buffy licked her lips nervously. "Let me," she whispered, reaching with hesitant fingers for the partially secure gauze on his chest.
He did not flinch away like she expected him to, but rather leaned forward to help her. The movement caused Buffy's hand to come into full contact with the skin of Angel's chest, and she gasped once again. His skin was warm. Her hand pressed there like that, and she could not help but feel the faint movement of his heartbeat. She watched her hand move with each of his breaths in fascination.
"Buffy?" he asked suddenly, drawing her attention with a concerned whisper. She looked up into his familiar gaze. "Are you alright?"
Buffy shook herself out of her shock as best she could. Cordelia had said he didn't remember anything. Apparently he did not understand, then, what had startled her so. "I'm alright," she said quickly and reached for the roll of medical tape. She tried to ignore the fact that her hand was on his naked skin, someplace it hadn't been in a long time. Instead she busied herself with getting the bandage positioned correctly. She looked at what she was covering up and flinched slightly. Someone had cut into his chest the outline of a bird, its wings outspread. The shallower cuts had already healed to angry red scars. Scabs remained in some of the deeper places, and Buffy's chest hurt in sympathy. "What happened?" she whispered, partially to herself. "Who did this to you?"
"Don't remember," Angel said, then yawned.
Buffy tried to give him a sympathetic smile, but was sure she failed. "I'm sorry," she said. Gently she replaced the last of the bandages in silence.
When she was done he continued to stare at her for a long moment. She wondered what it was he was looking for. Then he yawned again.
"Rest," Buffy said simply, placing a hand on his.
He looked at her in concern. "And you?" he asked, grasping her hand.
"I need to talk to Wesley and Cordelia," she explained. "I won't be far. And I promise I'll come back."
Angel nodded and released her.
Buffy did not release the breath she'd been unaware she was holding until she had left the room. She sighed wearily and flopped down on the couch next to Cordelia. Those few minutes had been far more tiring than she thought. "He's alive," Buffy whispered after a moment.
Cordelia and Wesley nodded.
"No," Buffy said in a strong, clear voice. "I mean, he's alive!"
Again the two of them nodded.
"How?" Buffy asked in a strangled voice. Her head was spinning; she couldn't think of any sort of explanation for any of this.
Wesley sighed. "We don't know," he said. "Three days after he …died… a group of good demons picked him up off the street like this."
"Not exactly like this," Cordelia clarified. "For the first day he was incoherent…and spent most of the time unconscious. A couple of days after that he didn't say a word. Now…"
"He's been…a bit more himself every day," Wesley explained. "He still has no memories, though. From what Cordelia said, you are the first person he has recognized."
That reassured Buffy, but only slightly. Maybe, even after everything she had done to him, they still had some sort of connection. "You said he doesn't remember anything?" Buffy asked again. At Cordelia's nod she added, "About vampires or anything?"
"That's part of what worries me," Wesley said. "Since he is alive…human…even his own physical self can't help trigger any memories. He…feels different, or so I would imagine."
"So you have no clue how to get his memories back?"
Neither Cordelia nor Wesley responded for a moment.
"Guys?"
It was Wesley who spoke once again. "Giles found a prophecy. The key to Angel's memories…"
"Yes?"
"It's you, Buffy."
Buffy swallowed hard. She was the key to his memories? She didn't know…she didn't understand… "I see," she said softly. She stood. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she began to walk towards the stairs.
"That's it!?" Cordelia yelled, springing up from the couch and grabbing her arm. "You're just going to walk away? I was right; you never did care about him like he cared for you."
"I am not walking away," Buffy said angrily, tearing her arm from Cordelia's grasp. "And don't you dare say I never cared for him! I did! I loved him!"
Cordelia looked at her, her eyes filled with barely suppressed fury. "And now?"
"I don't know," Buffy said honestly. "It's … been a year, Cordelia. And I tried to get over him…like he wanted me to. I had a boyfriend…like he wanted me to. But don't think I don't still care about him, because I do. And I always will."
"The why are you leaving?"
"Because my dad is expecting me for dinner," Buffy began to explain. "Because I need some fresh air. Because this is all too overwhelming for me to take in at the moment. But don't doubt that I'll be back. I will be back."
"Why should I trust you?" Cordelia asked coldly.
Buffy did not look at her, but rather looked past her at the door to Angel's room. "Because I promised him," was all she said.
Part Seven
Buffy sat in the guestroom of her father's house, pensive. She'd gone to the room after dinner, turned on her portable CD player, and stared at the wall trying to calm her raging thoughts. Or at least, if she couldn't do that, distract herself from the subject of Angel.
Thus far, she wasn't having much luck.
The winter is past and the summer's come at last,
and the small birds are singing in the trees;
Their little hearts are glad, but mine is very sad,
Since my true love is far away from me.
It may have had something to do with her CD choice. She didn't even know why she'd bought this one; anything remotely Celtic, Irish, or old fashioned inevitably reminded her of Angel. The gentle, sad tune kept forcing her mind back to her brooding ex-boyfriend. Still, she tried to fight it.
The rose upon the briar, like the water running clear,
Gives joy to the linnet and the bee;
Their little hearts are blessed, but mine is not at rest,
Since my true love is far away from me.
For straight I will repair to the Curragh of Kildare,
It's there I'll find tidings of my dear.
Maybe it was the words that trapped her thoughts on him. Granted, she had no clue what a 'Curragh' was, but she'd never felt farther away from Angel. It wasn't distance that separated her and Angel this time. It wasn't even death. Instead it was the passage of time and the absence of memory. She could stand in the same room as him and still be far away.
She hated it. She hated their distance so much it surprised her.
A livery I'll wear,
And I'll comb back my hair
And in velvet of green I will appear;
For straight I will repair to the Curragh of Kildare,
It's there I'll find tidings of my dear.
You that are in love,
and cannot it remove,
I pity the pains that you endure;
For experience lets me know that your hearts are full of woe,
A woe that no mortal can cure.
So much pain here. The lack of emotion she'd forced on herself after Angel's death had at least been calmer than this inner turmoil. Once Giles and Willow had made her face her emotions again she had to look at why Angel's death had been such a blow.
She still loved him. In his own words, she tried not to but couldn't stop.
What should she do now that he had returned? What could she do?
For straight I will repair to the Curragh of Kildare,
It's there I'll find tidings of my dear.
Go to him, her heart screamed, and for once her mind agreed. Her head thought about the prophecy that Wesley and Cordelia had mentioned; that only she could bring back Angel's memories. It also whispered to her of guilt; that it was her fault he had died in the first place. She had to make things right.
Her heart had a simpler answer.
He needs you.
That was all the reason Buffy really needed. "He needs me," she said softly, taking strength in the words. She would make this right. She would find a way.
"Who needs you?"
Buffy jumped, spinning around and taking off her headphones. Her dad stood in the doorway looking at her. "Hw long have you been there?"
"I just came to check on you," he said gently. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's okay," Buffy said, calming back down quickly. "I'm just jumpy."
Hank Summers nodded and came into the room to sit beside her on the bed. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Wrong?" Buffy nearly squeaked. "There's, uh, nothing wrong. Why would you think anything's wrong?"
Her dad gave her a disbelieving look. "There was something on your mind all through dinner," he said. "When I came in here I heard you say 'he needs me.' Who needs you, Buffy? What's going on?"
Buffy sighed. "It's…an old friend of mine. He…was in an accident," she lied. Well, it wasn't exactly lying, but it was definitely stretching the truth.
"I had no idea," her dad replied, sounding genuinely concerned. "When did this happen?"
"Several weeks ago," Buffy replied. "He's…healing alright, but he has amnesia. Severe amnesia."
"Oh," Hank said slowly. "Do you want to go back to Sunnydale to help?" he offered easily.
Buffy smiled but shook her head. "He, uh, lives in L.A."
"An old friend from Hemery then?" he asked gently.
Again Buffy shook her head. "We met in Sunnydale. He moved here last year right after graduation."
Her dad seemed to be watching her very closely. "I assume you saw him today. What's his name?" he asked.
"Angel. And yes, I saw him today."
He was quiet for a moment. "An old boyfriend?" he guessed a second later.
Buffy sighed. "Yes."
"Does your mom know about this?"
"Mom…never liked him very much." She looked at her father warily, waiting for his response.
To her surprise, he chuckled. "Well, your mom and I never saw eye to eye," he explained. "I promise to withhold judgment until after I've met him."
"Thanks," Buffy said in relief.
He smiled. "You still care about him, don't you?"
Buffy nodded. "I guess I do," she said slowly. "Some friends have been helping him out, but there's only so much they can do. And…he seemed…better when I was there."
Her father placed a hand on her shoulder for a second. "I know I haven't been around these last couple of years; I've only seen you once or twice," he said calmly. "You've grown up a lot."
"I have?"
He nodded. "You never would have cared this much about anyone else before you moved to Sunnydale," he explained. "I'm proud of you."
"Dad…" Buffy said, slightly embarrassed but pleased at the same time.
"I trust you," he said gently. "Do whatever you think is best. I hope Angel is better soon."
"So do I," Buffy whispered. As her dad went to leave the room she called out to him again. "Dad?"
He turned and looked at her.
"Thank you."
As the sun rose the next morning, Buffy was already awake to see it in all its glory. She stood in the doorway once again, no longer undecided. This was the right thing to do.
The door opened, and there he stood as she remembered him, looking at her in faint surprise. "You came back," Angel said. He sounded shocked.
Buffy smiled. "Of course I did. I promised, after all."
Gently, he closed the door behind her.
Part Eight
This was becoming a routine, and Angel found he liked that. Every morning the nightmares woke him just before sunrise. He wouldn't try to go back to sleep, however, because within minutes Buffy would be knocking on the office door. He was always upstairs and waiting for her. They would then go into the apartment and have breakfast together.
Sometimes, Cordelia or Wesley was there as well, but mostly it was Buffy. They didn't do much, mostly just sat and talked, not about the past but about the present. Empty, light hearted things. It was mostly Buffy who spoke; Angel was still nearly silent, though he felt more comfortable when she was around. Sometimes they would watch television or Angel would read from his own rather extensive library. Buffy insisted that hadn't changed – that he'd always spent much of his time reading. Though for all he remembered these books were completely new to him.
Finally, just as the sun went down, Buffy would leave once again. It always saddened him slightly to see her go, though he didn't know how to tell her that. But, just like the sun, she was sure to return the next morning.
It was one of those typical days, though both of them were…antsier than usual. Angel sat in his large comfortable chair, a book in his lap. He wasn't paying that much attention to it, though. Instead, his mind was on last night's dreams. He never spoke about what he dreamt to Buffy; he didn't want to worry her. But the dreams disturbed him.
He might have thought that his memories could be showing themselves as dreams while he slept, had they not been so out of touch with reality. Oh, sometimes the dreams were mundane enough, hazy scenes of everyday life, family and friends. Those dreams were vague, but what he did remember was the heavily accented voices and the overwhelming sensation that this was a time long past. He never remembered much of those dreams.
There were other pleasant dreams, but he knew these to be nothing but fantasy. Ever since Buffy had shown up in his living room, he had dreamed about her. Always they were here, in this apartment, and deliriously happy in one another's company. Those glimpses of making love to her were nothing but fantasy, if her current behavior was anything to go by. No one had hinted that they were ever anything more than friends.
He treasured those dreams. Most often, though, his dreams were dizzying nightmares that made no sense at all. Death and destruction were a common theme in those dreams, the taste of blood was another. Angel still trembled internally to think about it. The thought that he could actually come up with so many words to differentiate the tastes of blood…
Those weren't the worst of it, though. No, the dream that had caught him up last night… It was pure fear, and terror, and pain. That was the only way he could describe it. Every emotion was made real – the despair had been so heavy he could almost taste it. He had woken up with his own scream echoing in his ears.
Angel had been looking at the one paragraph in this book for the last fifteen minutes. It made no more sense this time than it had the last. Oh, he could read it just fine, even though it was in some language he couldn't name. Funny how he could remember all these different languages but he couldn't remember his own past.
He tried to discreetly glance at Buffy sitting on his couch, but found that she was watching him.
As soon as she caught his eyes, she spoke. "Doesn't it drive you nuts?"
Angel swallowed hard. "Sorry?"
"Sitting here day after day," Buffy explained. "I'd think you'd have the biggest case of cabin fever by now."
Angel shrugged. "Cordelia and Wesley said it's best if I stay here. That the police might be looking for me."
"Yeah, but still!" Buffy said loudly. "I haven't been closed up in here half the time that you have, and I'm ready to crawl out of my skin! Besides, I haven't slayed anything in weeks."
"Slayed?" Angel asked, confused.
Buffy bit her lip. "Uh, it's not important," she stuttered. The look in her eyes said otherwise, and Angel couldn't help but wonder what she wasn't telling him. "I, um, do martial arts fighting and stuff," she tried.
Still, it wasn't the whole truth. Angel could see that all over her face. What else wasn't he being told?
Suddenly Buffy jumped to her feet, an odd twinkle in her eyes. "Get up," she demanded with a grin.
Angel took the book off his lap and stood. "What are you doing?"
"Call it an experiment," Buffy explained. "You used to help me train. And physical memory is different from memories of the past and stuff. You know, like you never forget how to ride a bike?" She took an easy battle stance. "Try and get me," she said with a grin.
Angel tried to copy her stance even as he protested. "I don't want to hurt you."
Buffy just laughed at that. "You won't hurt me," she said calmly. "I'm stronger than I look. Besides, I always used to win before. I don't see this time being any different." Her smile was challenging, and she took a step closer towards him.
Buffy didn't know what exactly she was doing when she challenged Angel to fight her. She just had all this excess energy that was just begging to be released. Plus, she was completely confused as to where she stood with Angel. He was always happy to see her, but somehow he doubted he would be if he remembered how he'd gotten in this state. She'd only just admitted to herself that she still loved him, and was terrified he'd turn her away when he got his memories back. So she did nothing to reveal her feelings.
It worked well enough, but it was turning her insides into knots. In Sunnydale, she'd go out and slay to get this tension out. She couldn't here, though, not with any regularity. Not without raising her father's suspicions and who knew who else's.
So, here she was, challenging Angel – human Angel – into a fight not only that he stood no chance of winning, but where he could quite easily get hurt. He stood in his own battle stance, nearby but making no move to fight her. Here he was the one who could get hurt if she forgot he wasn't a vampire anymore, and he was concerned for her safety.
Typical.
Buffy took a swing at him, more of a feint than a real attempt. There was no force behind it and it was slow, but Angel blocked it easily. So far so good. He made no move to strike back, so she tried again, this time with a bit more force. Still he blocked it and Buffy couldn't help but grin. She knew, somehow, that he'd remember how to fight.
Angel had yet to strike back, yet slowly she pressed him, her moves becoming more complicated, faster and stronger. Still, she had yet to connect. He avoided her punches and kicks and slipped out of her attempted throws.
Finally he attempted to return the fight. The punch he threw missed as he hadn't really wanted to connect anyway, but Buffy could not ignore the force behind it. As the traded blows back and forth, Buffy smiled as the exertion made her breath harder. This was exactly how she remembered it. Sparring with Angel was always a deadly and delightful dance. For the moment, she forgot completely the time that had passed.
Then suddenly she was sprawled on her back on the hardwood floor, Angel on top of her. This was definitely not how she remembered it. For one thing, Angel had never won before. And she could feel the living heat of his body as he held her down, something she'd never felt before. Then there was the intensity of his gaze that Buffy fought so hard not to return.
"A successful experiment?" Angel asked, breathless from the exertion.
Buffy swallowed hard before she could speak. "Yeah, except I usually land on top," she said, and smiled to show she was teasing.
To her surprise, Angel laughed. In all the time since she had found him again, he had rarely smiled and never laughed. It was a wonderful sound. She treasured it.
Squirming out from under him, Buffy joined in his laughter. When it gone and they fought to catch their breath, Buffy looked at Angel once again. He was looking at her, grinning from ear to ear. He was so beautiful when he smiled. It made her almost loose her resolve to keep things between them within the realm of friendship.
Her own bewildered heart was enough of a problem for Buffy to contemplate. She didn't need to think about how Angel had been strong enough to defeat her, too.
At some point in their sparring, Buffy had stopped holding back, and Angel had defeated her.
That…well, that was a problem for later. Definitely later.
Part Nine
Buffy was late. Juggling the bags she had brought, she reached for the door to Angel Investigations. It was locked.
She frowned. Since the first couple of days that she had been making the trip to Angel's she had never found the door locked. No matter how early she arrived, it was always open. Angel was always sitting in one of the office chairs waiting for her. Today Buffy was late, having gone to buy groceries first, and the locked door concerned her.
Placing her bags on the ground, Buffy fished for the spare key Cordelia had given her. It slipped easily into the lock and the door opened with a gentle push. Lifting her grocery bags again, she entered the faintly lit office. No one was there.
"Hello?" she called, kicking the door shut behind her. "Angel?"
There was no response. He must have slept late, Buffy told herself, but she was still worried. She put the bags down in the elevator and descended into the basement apartment.
It was completely dark. Fumbling for a light switch, Buffy called out again. "Angel?" Again, there was no response.
Buffy's stomach twisted with worry as she put the bags on the kitchen table. As she took a deep breath to calm herself, she finally heard a noise other than the panicked beating of her own heart. It was a barest whisper, incoherent, coming from the direction of Angel's bedroom. That was followed by a sharp, terrified cry.
Fearing that something had come to attack Angel in his sleep, she dashed into his bedroom. Angel was still asleep, tangled in the bedcovers. He was tossing slightly and what Buffy could see of him was covered in sweat. He was mumbling something Buffy could not understand. She had no trouble deciphering his occasional panicked cries and the look of fear on his face.
Nightmare.
Buffy was at his side in an instant. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she seized his bare shoulders in her hands. "Angel!" she cried loudly. He thrashed in his sleep, trying to get away from her. She let go, not wanting to make his nightmare worse. "Angel, wake up!"
He sat up suddenly, the blankets falling to his waist. His eyes were wide with panic and he was breathing heavily. A final cry died in his throat.
"Shh," Buffy whispered as if placating a small child. "It's all right." She placed a gentle hand on his arm. "It was just a nightmare."
Suddenly he clasped her in a fierce hug. His breath came in relieved sobs that made him shake. Buffy held him tightly to her, her hand moving gently on his back until his fear subsided.
Angel pulled away eventually and looked at Buffy a bit sheepishly. "Sorry," he muttered.
"It's alright," Buffy replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Nightmare?" she asked.
Angel nodded but would not meet her eye.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Buffy prompted.
"I'd rather not," Angel said quickly. He shrugged out of her grip and slipped from the bed.
Buffy watched as he busied himself pulling clothes for the day out of the closet. Something was wrong. "Have you had these nightmares before?" She could see the muscles of his back tense but he said nothing. He just stopped mid-motion of putting on his shirt. Buffy stood quickly and went to his side. She felt him trembling slightly when she touched his arm. "I want to help," she said. "I can't help if you won't tell me."
Angel sighed. The release of air made him seem smaller. "Every night," he whispered.
"Angel!" Buffy said sharply. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Angel shrugged. "Couldn't," he whispered.
"Of course you could!" Buffy replied. "You can tell me anything," she continued in a softer tone.
"Could I?" Angel asked a bit sharply. She could see the fear still lurking in his eyes. This nightmare had really shaken him. "Do you really want to know?"
"I do," Buffy said firmly. She knew what it was like to have nightmares night after night.
Angel finally met her eyes and saw the sincerity and concern within them. He sat dwn wearily on the edge of the bed. "Where do you want me to start?" he whispered, sounding defeated.
Buffy sat next to him easily. "Why don't you start with what you dreamed last night?"
He looked at her blankly, then stared straight ahead and began his tale. "There was a girl," he began slowly, "a young woman, wearing a long blue dress. It was…old fashioned. We were outside and it was nighttime; very dark out…and I remember the air was damp like it might start raining any minute. The girl…one minute she was smiling, and the next she got this horrified look on her face. I … the dream me … loved that, because I was the one that terrified her. She began screaming…" Angel shifted uncomfortably and his gaze drifted to his lap. "I…bit her neck. I tasted her blood."
"You killed her," Buffy said in sudden understanding.
"Yes," Angel whispered. He dd not raise his gaze.
Buffy sighed softly. Memory…it had to be memory, disguised as a dream. Angel had no clue of that. The second day that Buffy had visited she, Wesley, and Cordelia had a long discussion about what they should and should not tell him. His memories, they decided, would have to come again on their own, or with Buffy's presence as the prophecies said they would. As far as vampires and demons went, they would only tell him what was necessary for their own safety.
Thus far, that was nothing.
Angel finally returned his gaze to Buffy. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Buffy answered with a question of her own. "You've been dreaming that every night?"
Angel shook his head. "Not exactly. Similar dreams, though." He said that as if to make her feel better.
"How long have you been having these dreams?"
Angel shrugged, indicating that he didn't know. Probably, then, as long as he'd been back. Buffy wondered at that. She'd have to talk to Wesley, but it sounded like his memories weren't actually gone, simply blocked instead. Only when he was asleep did they appear.
So many terrible years…
Angel looked at Buffy seriously. "You know something, don't you?"
Buffy bit her lip. "I'm not sure," she replied. Before Angel could look at her suspiciously she rose from the bed. "Enough of this talk. How about some breakfast to get your mind off of this?"
Angel came along without a protest.
When Cordelia and Wesley arrived a bit later in the morning, Buffy and Angel were hanging out in the kitchen. Angel was sitting in a chair, leaning back and watching Buffy with a small smile on his face. Buffy was putting most of the food she had bought that morning into a backpack.
"What are you doing?" Cordelia asked from the bottom of the stairs, Wesley standing just behind her.
Buffy looked up and grinned. "Good morning, Cordelia," she said. She sounded just a bit like one of the orphans in _Annie_ greeting Miss Hanigan.
"Good morning," Angel said softly as well a beat behind her.
Wesley came into the kitchen a second later. "I trust you both slept well?" he said by way of greeting.
Angel frowned and Buffy grimaced. "Let's not talk about that," she said. Wesley opened his mouth to speak again when Buffy snapped, "Later, okay?" At the look of hurt in the ex-Watcher's face, Buffy softened. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean it like that."
"Yes, well…" Wesley swallowed. "I was merely going to reiterate Cordelia's question," he said.
Buffy looked blankly at Cordelia. "I'm sorry. You had a question?"
Cordelia gave a long-suffering sigh. "I asked what you were doing," she said, gesturing at the mostly packed bag.
"Oh!" Buffy glanced briefly at Angel and broke into a grin. "We're going on a picnic," she declared happily.
Wesley paled. "Are you sure that's the best idea?" he asked.
Buffy frowned at him. "Oh, come on!" she said, slightly angry. "Aren't you sick of being closed in here all the time? It's about time Angel got to have some fun. Besides," she grinned again, "I want to see what he looks like with a suntan."
Cordelia chuckled.
Wesley frowned at them both. "You are forgetting," he said sternly, "that the police are looking for him. I simply don't think…"
"You're right; you don't!" Buffy interrupted him loudly. "Do you really think the police are *really* looking for him? That's just words. Besides, they think he's dead! They are not going to go out of their way looking for a dead man wanted for some piddly crime!" She took a deep breath. "I almost wish they would," she said, her voice deadly quiet. "I've got a lot to get back at them for."
The room went dead silent in the wake of her pronouncement.
"Uh, I'm confused."
All eyes went to Angel, seemingly having forgotten he was there. The three of them shifted uncomfortably and would not look at him.
Angel looked at them all in turn. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked very softly.
Buffy slowly sank into the chair beside him. Ignoring the looks both Cordelia and Wesley were giving her, she sighed. "You made some enemies…or, one enemy, actually…in the police department."
Angel looked thoughtful. "How? What did I do?"
"You helped a wanted murderer," Buffy said after a moment, slowly and without emotion.
Angel winced.
"Mostly, she just doesn't like you," Cordelia chimed in.
Now Angel looked even more confused, if that was possible. "What? Who?"
"Cop lady," Cordelia explained. "Kate."
"Oh," Angel said, though he looked just as confused as before. "And they think I'm dead? The police?"
Cordelia and Wesley came and sat at the table as well. "Not the police, actually," Wesley began. "They believe you escaped. Kate believes you are dead."
"But she's the only one that really wanted you captured," Cordelia added quickly.
Angel looked thoughtfully between the three of them. "And this person I helped?" he prompted.
It was Buffy who answered this time. "You…felt she deserved a second chance," she said slowly. She sighed. "She was a friend once."
Both Cordelia and Wesley looked surprised at this admission, but Angel did not notice. "And this is why you did not want me leaving here?" he asked them.
Wesley nodded. "Yes," he agreed. "But now I feel that Buffy is right."
"I am?" Buffy asked in surprise. Then she grinned. "Of course I am." She looked at Wesley. "Do you want to come with us?"
Wesley shook his head. "No…Cordelia and I will mind the office. You two…have a good time."
Cordelia stood and grinned. "Get a suntan for me," she said to Angel. "The never-seen-the-sunlight look is so out."
Angel's confused look disappeared to be replaced with a grin.
Part Ten
Buffy and Angel were holding hands as they walked along the pier. They hadn't even realized they'd done it. Or, at least, Buffy didn't seem to notice. Angel was very much aware of her small hand in his. Though it was a surprise, it felt right, so he did not mention it.
They had happily eaten the picnic Buffy had brought on the edge of the sand. Though few words were exchanged, they were both content in each other's company. Now, still silent, they walked along the sunlit pier.
It was wonderful to be outside, Angel decided. They had been confined in the two-story apartment and office for far too long. Though when he'd first stepped into the sunlight he'd had to squint until a headache passed, now he reveled in the feeling of it on his skin. It felt nice…different…
Angel looked up suddenly, feeling Buffy's eyes on him. She was watching him, he realized, and he could not begin to decipher the look on her face. "What?" he asked softly, breaking the silence between them.
Buffy jumped in surprise, her hand pulling away suddenly. "Huh?" she asked.
Though he missed the contact between them, Angel made no move to take Buffy's hand again. "You were staring," he said softly.
"I was?" Buffy asked in surprise.
Angel nodded.
"I'm sorry." Buffy quite purposefully looked away from him, staring at the expanse of beach and water.
"I didn't say I minded," Angel muttered. "I was just…surprised."
Buffy looked at him, startled. "It's just…nice. To be outside, you know?" She looked away again quickly. "I like seeing you in the sunlight," she said very softly.
Angel couldn't help but stare at her while she was looking the other way. The sun was turning her hair into strands of gold. She seemed to gather the sunlight around her until she glowed. "I like seeing you in the sunlight, too" Angel whispered back.
Buffy spun to face him again. They were suddenly only centimeters apart. Buffy's eyes were very wide, the sunlight making them sparkle. Angel's breath caught in his throat. "Have we been here before?" he asked huskily.
"What?" Buffy asked, blinking at him. She came out of her daze slowly and stepped back. "I mean…what?"
Angel swallowed as she took a step back. "You…me…I think…" He blinked. He cleared his throat again and his voice took on an urgent tone. "Buffy, have we been here before?"
Buffy looked at him oddly. Perhaps she saw something in his eyes, for she answered him seriously, "No, Angel, we've never been here before. Not together, at least."
"Oh." Angel looked down at his feet, uncomfortable under Buffy's intense gaze. He could see this place in his mind's eye. He could see Buffy's startled gaze as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately…right there, only a couple of paces down the pier. Seeing as how she would barely hold his hand, though, he must have been mistaken. Maybe it was simply the memory of a dream.
"What is it?" Buffy asked, concerned.
Angel shifted slightly, disturbed. He hated his lack of memory. Especially in moments like this, when he didn't know where he stood with Buffy. But he couldn't tell her how he saw her, even in his dreams, without knowing that. "Nothing," he replied softly, not looking at her.
Buffy ducked into his line of sight, forcing him to look at her. "It's not nothing, obviously. You're a terrible liar," she tried to tease.
Still Angel said nothing. Instead he began to walk along the pier again.
"Don't do that," Buffy said quickly. "Don't shut me out. Please, tell me what's wrong."
Angel stopped and sighed. "It's just…I thought…"
"Was it memory?" Buffy asked suddenly.
"I thought it was," Angel said after a moment. "I hoped… I saw the two of us, on a beautiful, sunny day like today, kissing right here." He waited apprehensively for Buffy's response.
"I'm sorry," she said after a moment. Her voice was filled with regret. "That…never happened." She sighed. "That couldn't have happened," she added to herself, obviously not meaning for Angel to hear. She was moving away from him again.
"Why not?" Angel asked quickly. "Why couldn't that have happened?"
As he expected, Buffy gave no reply. She simply looked at him and walked on.
When Cordelia came back to the office to check on Angel that evening, she was surprised to find Buffy still there. She was sitting in one of the office chairs, looking down with her head in her hands.
"Are you all right?" Cordelia asked gently.
Buffy jumped in surprise. When she saw who it was, she relaxed considerably. "Cordy," she said in greeting.
"I didn't mean to startle you," Cordelia said quickly. She was surprised that she'd managed to startle Buffy at all.
Buffy sighed. "It was my fault. I was…thinking."
"Should I leave you to your difficult task, then?" Cordelia asked. Buffy glared at her. "I'm sorry. That was unnecessary." She looked around the office, uncertain of how to proceed. "So, how did your picnic go?" she asked at last.
Buffy did not answer at first. She looked down at her hands, then back at Cordelia. "Did you know that Angel's been having dreams?" she asked suddenly.
Cordelia just looked at her, confused at the change in subject. "Most people do," she replied. The look on Buffy's face said there was more to it than that. She sat on the edge of the desk next to Buffy. "What sort of dreams?"
"Nightmares," Buffy said with a sigh. She looked up at Cordelia pointedly. "Memories, I'm pretty sure."
Cordelia swallowed. "Does he know?" she asked.
Buffy shook her head. "He thinks they're just nightmares. And I couldn't tell him otherwise. How could I tell him that he really has killed more people than I could ever care to count?" She shuddered.
Cordelia said nothing in response and Buffy sighed again. "And worse, today he thought he remembered something."
Cordelia looked at her in confusion. "How is that worse?"
"Because it wasn't real," Buffy said sadly.
"Oh." Cordelia could understand her disappointment; she felt it, too. "What did he think he remembered?"
Buffy thought for a second. "he thought we'd been there before. Him, me, sunlight…" She looked at Cordelia for a second, daring her to see how ludicrous it was.
At first Cordelia was nodding along with her, then she stopped abruptly as a thought struck. "I don't know how to say this, but I sort of have to since Angel can't…" she began slowly.
"What is it?"
Cordelia swallowed. "There is a…slight possibility that it was a memory."
"Cordelia…"
"I know it sounds ridiculous," Cordelia said defensively, "and it really should be Angel who tells you since it's his mess, but he can't. I don't even know the whole story! So you have to forgive me for leaving out details." She made a face. "So glad I don't know the details…" she muttered.
Buffy was looking at her with a worried expression. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this story?" she asked.
"I have no idea," Cordelia muttered sarcastically. "You remember when you came here right after Thanksgiving?"
"Yes," Buffy said slowly, wondering where this was going.
"Well, apparently there were two versions of that day. The first one only Angel remembers…or would remember if he could remember anything. The rest of us just remember the rewrite," Cordelia tried to explain.
"I am now horribly confused," Buffy muttered.
"So am I," Cordelia said.
"But you're saying this could have been the memory of a day that only Angel remembers?" Cordelia nodded. "Us, together in the sunlight?" Buffy's breath stuck in her throat.
"It's possible," Cordelia acknowledged.
"No, it's not, remember?" Buffy said loudly. "What aren't you telling me?"
Cordelia sighed. "I told you; I don't know much. I don't know all of the hows and whys. I just know that somehow in that day Angel became human. And I know that for some reason he got the day started over so that it never happened."
Buffy sat back in the chair, stunned to speechlessness.
Contrary to what he'd said he was doing when he descended into the apartment, Angel was not resting. It was too hard to rest when the mind would not still. He kept seeing the same image from this afternoon – Buffy and himself, standing on the pier, locked in a passionate kiss. The more he thought about it, the more real it became until he could taste her lips and feel the warmth of the sunlight.
But it wasn't real. The blurring of the line between the fanciful and the real was beginning to scare him. He so wanted his memories to return, but maybe he was trying to hard. Maybe he was creating false memories instead.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs startled Angel from his thoughts. He stood up quickly, looking to see who it was. He watched as Buffy descended slowly, a troubled expression on her face.
"What's wrong?" Angel asked hurriedly, forgetting his own concerns.
Buffy proceeded the rest of the way down the stairs before she spoke. She stopped and slowly met Angel's gaze. "We need to talk," she said softly.
Angel nodded. "We do," he acknowledged. Buffy sighed and nodded to herself, then opened her mouth to speak. Angel stopped her. "Wait."
"What?" Buffy asked, looking even more troubled.
"I need to ask you something first," Angel said, trying to sound more certain than he felt.
Buffy's expression was slightly wary, but she nodded. "Alright."
Angel swallowed. He needed to know this one thing, and his memories didn't seem to be exactly forthcoming. But to just ask… "Were we…involved…before?"
Buffy was obviously uncomfortable and would not meet his gaze. "Angel…" she muttered.
"Please, Buffy," Angel said strongly. "I need the truth."
Buffy sighed and looked him straight in the eyes. "Yes," she said softly. "We were involved. On and off for nearly three years, actually, until about a year ago."
"Oh," Angel whispered, unable to think of more of a response. He stepped back from Buffy and lowered himself back into his chair. He rested his hands on his knees and did not speak.
"You don't seem surprised," Buffy said after a moment.
Angel thought for a second. "I'm not," he explained. "Not really. It feels right."
Buffy nodded to herself. "Yeah," she whispered. "It often did."
"But not always?" Angel asked, not looking at her.
"But not always," Buffy acknowledged.
Neither of them said anything after that. For Buffy, there was nothing else to say. For Angel, he knew that any other discussion on the subject would have to wait, preferably until he got his memories back. *If* he got his memories back. That brought Angel back to his darker thoughts from earlier, and he turned to Buffy to think about something else. "You said we had something to talk about," Angel reminded her.
"Oh," Buffy said. "That's right, I did."
When she didn't say anything, Angel looked at her pointedly. "What is it?"
Buffy bit her lip. "It's about…what you remembered at the beach today. What I said never happened."
"Yes," Angel said reluctantly. Just what he'd tried not to think about.
"I…I shouldn't have said that," Buffy said uncertainly. "It…I may… That is, you may have been right."
"What?" Angel asked, confused.
Buffy sat in the other chair and looked at the ceiling. "I was speaking with Cordelia," she said. "Very short version, there's a day that was erased that only you carry the memories of. What you thought you remembered may have been from that day."
"But I don't carry the memories of that day!" Angel protested. "I don't carry the memories of any day. At least, not before…"
"Angel," Buffy interrupted him firmly, sitting forward and staring him in the eyes, "you do carry those memories. Those memories and many more. They'll return to you in time."
"But how do you know?" Angel said back, trying to hide the terrified, uncertain feelings behind it.
Buffy smiled very slightly. "I know," she said.
Angel looked at her suspiciously. Part of him was sure she was only saying this for comfort's sake. Another part of him took any hope that was offered, but wondered at the source. "Does this have anything to do with my dreams?" he asked, slightly frightened at the prospect.
"Some," Buffy answered, seeming to watch him closely for a reaction.
Angel flinched. The images of blood and death flashed through his mind again. "How could that…" He left the sentence hanging.
"It's a strange world we live in," Buffy said calmly. "Until you remember more on your own, I can't tell you more. It's too hard."
"On who?" Angel demanded.
"On both of us," Buffy replied firmly. "I'm not ready to tell you, and I don't think you're ready to handle it."
"Ready?" Angel asked, his voice rising. "What if I'm never ready? What if my memories never return?"
"But they will," she affirmed. "You have to trust in that."
"How can I?" Angel demanded. "How can I trust in that when the only thing I've thought I remembered never happened? No one can tell me for sure if what I think is true, because it's all part of some 'erased' day." He paused then, his own words registering. "Erased day?"
Buffy couldn't help but smile slightly at that. "I told you – it's a strange world we live in." her smile faded after a moment and she looked at him intently. "Would it make you feel better if I made you a promise?" she asked.
"What sort of promise?"
She thought for a second. "If your memory is not making an obvious improvement by the time I have to return to school, I will tell you everything I can."
Angel sighed. Part of him wanted to know everything right now. But maybe there was a reason he didn't remember. Maybe Buffy was right and he wouldn't be able to handle it right now. "I would like that," he said at last.
Buffy smiled. "Then that's a deal."
"Wait."
"Hmm?"
"One more thing," Angel pressed. "If I have questions – not big 'tell-me-everything' questions, but yes-or-no questions or little things, would you try and answer them honestly for me?"
Buffy clearly thought that over for a second. "Do I have the right to tell you there are certain questions I can't answer?"
Angel nodded.
She smiled reassuringly at him. "It sounds like we have a plan."
Angel smiled back, suddenly feeling incredibly relieved. "Yeah," he agreed, "I think we do."
Continues...