Chapter 2 - Letting Go
"Thank you," Cordelia said, to Gunn, who handed her a tissue. The sun was already setting, and everyone had had a considerably rough day. They had made it in time to catch Buffy's funeral. It was something Cordelia didn't expect. Buffy still looked so young and full of life as she lied in the opened casket. The candles and white roses that surrounded her deceased body made the Slayer looked like a sleeping beauty...waiting in vain for her prince to come and give her the kiss that would stir the life back into her. Now, as everyone stood outside near a tree in the graveyard, they didn't know what to say. Giles had taken Dawn home earlier, and Xander and Anya had headed back home as well. Willow and Tara were sitting near a tree, holding each other and having conversations on how Buffy's soul was with the Goddess, resting in the peace that Buffy had deserved. Wesley, Fred, and Gunn were standing beside Cordelia as she suddenly glanced towards a tree near the tombstone that marked Buffy's freshly dug grave. The familiar black sillouhette of a man gave Cordelia comfort as he stepped into the now-glowing twilight. The only tragedy about the funeral was that the one person that wanted to be there the most couldn't make it. Not to make anyone at the church suspicious, they of course, had to hold Buffy's funeral during the daytime hours, which automatically ruled Angel out of the picture. Now, as he drearily stood before the tombstone, it made Cordelia feel even worse. Her eyes watched Angel sadly, who was now kneeling on the dirt. "Let's go," she told the others, motioning for them to start for Angel's car, which was still parked on the street on the outskirts of the graveyard. She knew that if there was one thing Angel deserved, it was time alone...to let go.
Tears continued to travel down Angel's cold cheek as he played with a white rose that rested across the dirt on Buffy's grave. He hadn't been there to help her. He SHOULD have been there to help her. With everything that was going on in L.A, and Buffy having her own problems with the Hellmouth in Sunnydale, they hardly had time to be together. The last time they had had the chance to hold each other was when Joyce had passed on. Thankfully, he was there for Buffy. She really needed him, and he was there. Bittersweet memories filled his mind as he remembered when he was sitting in the exact same position with her before, over Joyce's grace. The only difference now, was that Buffy wasn't in his arms and close to his heart. Now, she was in the earth, resting in an eternal sleep that she would never awaken from. "I should...I should have been there for you," Angel sobbed out, scratching at the dirt, as his head lowered down, and he started to breathe through his tears. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want to cry anymore. He had to accept the fact that Buffy was dead. There wasn't anything anyone could do about it. She had to die...it was part of her mortal life. But did she have to die so young? Angel pushed his hand deep into the pocket of his coat, and his finger's searched for a small object that rested at the very bottom. He pulled it out slowly, as his eyes continued to stare out in a daze. It was a necklace, with a very unique charm. Buffy had given it to him a long time ago. She had told him that it was something she had back when she first learned she was the Slayer. She had told him that it meant a lot to her, and she wanted him to have it, because he meant a lot to her, too. But now, as thoughts filled his head of her never returning, he set the necklace out on the edge of the tombstone. "I'll, never...forget you," he whispered, as his hand moved away from the tombstone and the necklace. He slowly stood up, while continuing to read Buffy's gravestone over and over. "She saved the word a lot." A small came across Angel's face as the last tear fell from his ear. "That she did," he said to himself. "And I love her for it."
He turned around, and found the Fang Gang sitting in his car at the edge of the graveyard. He felt a little better. He hadn't said goodbye when she was alive, but at least he got to say goodbye now. The dirt made sounds as he walked slowly away from the grave, and back to the car. He had finally...let go.
"Thank you," Cordelia said, to Gunn, who handed her a tissue. The sun was already setting, and everyone had had a considerably rough day. They had made it in time to catch Buffy's funeral. It was something Cordelia didn't expect. Buffy still looked so young and full of life as she lied in the opened casket. The candles and white roses that surrounded her deceased body made the Slayer looked like a sleeping beauty...waiting in vain for her prince to come and give her the kiss that would stir the life back into her. Now, as everyone stood outside near a tree in the graveyard, they didn't know what to say. Giles had taken Dawn home earlier, and Xander and Anya had headed back home as well. Willow and Tara were sitting near a tree, holding each other and having conversations on how Buffy's soul was with the Goddess, resting in the peace that Buffy had deserved. Wesley, Fred, and Gunn were standing beside Cordelia as she suddenly glanced towards a tree near the tombstone that marked Buffy's freshly dug grave. The familiar black sillouhette of a man gave Cordelia comfort as he stepped into the now-glowing twilight. The only tragedy about the funeral was that the one person that wanted to be there the most couldn't make it. Not to make anyone at the church suspicious, they of course, had to hold Buffy's funeral during the daytime hours, which automatically ruled Angel out of the picture. Now, as he drearily stood before the tombstone, it made Cordelia feel even worse. Her eyes watched Angel sadly, who was now kneeling on the dirt. "Let's go," she told the others, motioning for them to start for Angel's car, which was still parked on the street on the outskirts of the graveyard. She knew that if there was one thing Angel deserved, it was time alone...to let go.
Tears continued to travel down Angel's cold cheek as he played with a white rose that rested across the dirt on Buffy's grave. He hadn't been there to help her. He SHOULD have been there to help her. With everything that was going on in L.A, and Buffy having her own problems with the Hellmouth in Sunnydale, they hardly had time to be together. The last time they had had the chance to hold each other was when Joyce had passed on. Thankfully, he was there for Buffy. She really needed him, and he was there. Bittersweet memories filled his mind as he remembered when he was sitting in the exact same position with her before, over Joyce's grace. The only difference now, was that Buffy wasn't in his arms and close to his heart. Now, she was in the earth, resting in an eternal sleep that she would never awaken from. "I should...I should have been there for you," Angel sobbed out, scratching at the dirt, as his head lowered down, and he started to breathe through his tears. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want to cry anymore. He had to accept the fact that Buffy was dead. There wasn't anything anyone could do about it. She had to die...it was part of her mortal life. But did she have to die so young? Angel pushed his hand deep into the pocket of his coat, and his finger's searched for a small object that rested at the very bottom. He pulled it out slowly, as his eyes continued to stare out in a daze. It was a necklace, with a very unique charm. Buffy had given it to him a long time ago. She had told him that it was something she had back when she first learned she was the Slayer. She had told him that it meant a lot to her, and she wanted him to have it, because he meant a lot to her, too. But now, as thoughts filled his head of her never returning, he set the necklace out on the edge of the tombstone. "I'll, never...forget you," he whispered, as his hand moved away from the tombstone and the necklace. He slowly stood up, while continuing to read Buffy's gravestone over and over. "She saved the word a lot." A small came across Angel's face as the last tear fell from his ear. "That she did," he said to himself. "And I love her for it."
He turned around, and found the Fang Gang sitting in his car at the edge of the graveyard. He felt a little better. He hadn't said goodbye when she was alive, but at least he got to say goodbye now. The dirt made sounds as he walked slowly away from the grave, and back to the car. He had finally...let go.