The Night Remembers - Part 25
Hushed voices were all Wesley could hear from behind the curtain marking the
entrance to Angel's bedroom. The former watcher wanted to kick himself for
his careless words. Explaining about the Gate of Hell, about the danger they
would face, in short going into full watcher mode, had made him forget all
about Buffy's amnesia.
The rest of the group was exchanging concerned glances, while Tara and
Willow were holding hands.
Everyone staring at her followed Buffy's shocked gasp. Before anyone had been
able to say a word Angel had pulled his girlfriend towards his bedroom, closed
the curtain and was now obviously trying to explain.
How could he have been so stupid to let something like that slip, Wesley
asked himself again and again. It was probably Buffy's most traumatic
experience throughout her time as a slayer. Sending a person you loved to
the demon's dimension, like it had happened with Angel, would be more than
most people could bare. The former watcher could only guess what it meant to
her.
Wesley had only heard stories about Buffy missing for the whole summer, and
that when she returned her eyes had been serious and sad, and grown up all
of a sudden. She'd lost all her innocence, her youth, and that even when
Angel miraculously returned from Hell she never got it back. It had changed
her life forever.
Of course, at one point, she would've remembered, or they would've told her,
but not now. Now was a bad moment. With an inward sigh, Wesley looked
around, catching Giles' gaze. There was concern in the watcher's eyes but no
accusation and strangely it made Wesley feel even worse. If someone had been
shouting at him, he would've known why, but nobody blamed him and for this
it seemed as if he had to blame himself even more.
A shocked gasp was to be heard from behind the curtain, then a muffled
shout, then silence, and then sobbing. Buffy's sobs. At the same time
Angel's soothing voice. Only seconds later the curtain was pulled open,
revealing slayer and vampire, the blonde's face puffy and red from crying,
her eyes red-rimmed, her hand was firmly clasped into her lover's, she
couldn't quite meet the eyes of her friends.
"We're going on patrol," Angel announced, looking around. "It might need
some time. Xander could you please take care of Dawn?"
"Sure," he answered, nodding towards the slayer's sister, who smiled quickly
in return, and then fixed her gaze back on Buffy, who seemed very small and
fragile at the moment.
"Spike," he addressed his grand-childe, "Could you and Faith patrol as
well?"
The bleached blond vampire grinned at the brunette slayer, and nodded.
"Yeah. Might be fun."
"Good," Angel said, looking at Giles, "We'll be back in a few hours. Make
yourselves at home. Cordelia knows where everything is." He glanced at the
former cheerleader, who gave him a smile. He thanked her with his eyes then
pulled Buffy with him into the night.
*
Riley had followed the whole situation in bewilderment, sensing that there
was a lot more history between Angel and Buffy than he had guessed. Sure,
Xander told him one day and later Buffy explained even more, but this
particular, and obviously peculiar, subject never came up.
From all he observed it was clear that the subject was very painful and that
nobody in the room felt comfortable with it. Nobody, who knew what was
actually going on, that is. The police lady and Tara seemed as lost as he
was. But of course none of them had been close to either Buffy or Angel, or
at least not in the way he had been, or rather made himself believe so.
If Buffy's reaction behind the curtain were any hint, Riley wasn't so sure
he wanted to know what had caused the shocked gasps and the concerned
glances of friends and family or why the girl he was still in love with had
looked so fragile in a way he'd only seen her when her mother had been
diagnosed with a brain tumor.
But curiosity and that nasty feeling of jealousy got the better of him and
the question had left his mouth before he was able to stop it, "What was
this all about? What do you mean Angel had experience with the demon's
dimension?" his gaze was on Wesley.
"It's a long story," the former watcher replied, not willing to tell Buffy's
ex-boyfriend private details of her life with Angel. "And frankly not my
place to tell. If you want to know, ask Angel."
Spike grinned seeing the commando narrow his eyes. He could smell anger.
Anger for being left out. It gave the bleached blond vampire another kick to
see Captain Cornbread's face when his grand-sire had pulled the slayer
behind the curtain, making it quite clear that this was *their* private
space. A room with a large bed - the Poof always had it with them - was his
and the slayer's private space. Eat that soldier boy, he thought. And guess
what they're doing there.
Not that Riley didn't know already. The way Angel and Buffy were acting
around each other would tell any idiot what kind of relationship they
shared. But then, soldier boy wasn't the brightest person on this planet and
giving it to him with the sledgehammer couldn't harm. If Spike couldn't get
the slayer for himself he would at least make sure that Riley got the
message as well. Once and for all.
"They make quite a couple, don't they," Spike said almost casually, grinning
at Faith. The brunette slayer was more serious than Spike, but she had a
special dislike for Riley and caught on very quickly.
"Yeah," she said, leaning back against the wall, "She so petite and blond,
he so dark, and... big. Night and day, sun and darkness," she sighed,
"vampire and slayer. It's really romantic."
Riley gritted his teeth. He hadn't expected a warm welcome in Sunnydale.
Hell, the way he acted just before he left he even expected some hostility,
but he would be damned if he'd take such crap from an evil hostile, chip or
not, and some psycho-bitch who had once tried to screw up his relationship
with Buffy. He was about to reply, when he suddenly felt a hand on his arm.
"Please don't," a soft voice said and gazing down he found himself looking
into Dawn's huge blue eyes. "We all need to work together now," she said,
"I've lost my mom, and then Buffy, I don't want to lose her again." Her gaze
then shifted towards Spike and the bleached blond vampire felt himself
forced to nod with a gruff noise.
He turned to Faith, signaling her to follow him. "Yeah, let's go," she
agreed, grabbing a stake from a bag Angel had shown her. "I really need to
hit something." With a quick grin at Kate, she added, "Only if it's dead or
rather un-dead or ugly, slimy..." she trailed off. Seeing Kate smile, she
smiled as well and she and Spike left without another word.
*
"Are you feeling any better?" Angel asked Buffy after they'd dusted six
vampires. They were now walking through Restfield, her hand firmly clasped
in his. She hadn't said a word since they left the mansion.
"Not really," she replied, a frown appearing on her forehead, she tried to
pull her hand from his grip, but he wouldn't let her, wouldn't allow her to
retreat, feeling overwhelmed by the things Angel had told her. She'd seen
the pain on his face while he had been telling her how he'd reverted into
Angelus, had tormented and killed and how she finally had no chance but
sending him to hell.
And she just knew that he hated her for it. How could he not? She condemned
him to a fate worse than anything she could imagine and he would still be
there if some miracle hadn't brought him back. He had tried to talk to her,
but she had refused to listen, so he'd just taken her hand and pulled her
with him out of the mansion.
And here she was, standing beside him, feeling worse than she remembered,
which actually didn't say anything in her particular situation, but still...
"I don't blame you." His quiet, firm words destroyed the silence that had
settled over them. "I never did. To tell you the truth, I was, and still am
incredibly proud of you. You were acting like the slayer. To do what you
did... You were so strong, so wonderful and I loved you so much... still do.
Please don't blame yourself."
"How can I not?" she cried, finally managing to pull her hand from his,
whirling around to face him, "What I did to you..."
"I did worse to you before," he argued stubbornly.
"That wasn't you," she shouted, anger flaring in her eyes, "You told me it
was your demon. I know enough about vampires to understand that you had no
control about what he did."
"No, I didn't. But the reason he was tormenting you, trying to get to you,
was because I allowed myself to feel for you, to get close to you and worse,
I hadn't managed to prevent you from falling in love with me. That was
pushing the doors open for him, you were open for the hurt he inflicted on
you," he reached out, grabbing her shoulders. "So you see, if anyone is
guilty here, it's me or maybe the Romani for creating such a stupid curse,
not thinking about the danger, but not you. Do you understand? NOT YOU."
"God, I drove a sword right through you," she cried, still not able to look
at him. "I hurt you..." a sob tore from her throat, shaking her whole body.
"God, Angel. I killed you."
With a strangled sound her pulled her to him, held her close. "We both hurt
each other," he told her quietly, not trying to hide the pain in his voice,
"And I never saw this as some sort of competition, but I'd say I win in the
department. Although I never wanted to hurt you - not intentionally, but
that doesn't change the facts, Buffy."
Finally her arms came to encircle his waist. "What else?" she asked after a
moment. When he didn't react, she said, "I need to know, Angel. I know Giles
and the shrink think I should get my memory back piece by piece but I need
to know. What else happened?"
"I'm not quite sure what you remember," he began hesitantly. "I came back
from the demon's dimension. I have no memory of it. I just found myself back
on earth."
"But you do remember hell, right?" she asked, raising her head and looking
at him. "How was it?"
"I... I don't know how to explain it," he said carefully, for the first time
talking about his experience there, "It's a place without love, without
mercy, without any emotions besides hatred and joy of torture. The average
demon's suffer..." he hesitated, not quite finding the right words, "Some of
them enjoy the torture. Especially the vampires do. But I... I was the
perfect victim."
"Because of your soul," she said. It wasn't a question.
"Yeah," he answered it anyway. "The goal was to destroy me - my soul - and
they almost succeeded. Then I was suddenly gone, finding myself back in
Sunnydale," he told her and then added softly, "with you."
He was glad when he saw her nod, glad that she didn't ask any more
questions, because there were things he didn't want to tell, didn't want her
to know. Ever. "And after you came back? I remember some things. I even
remember the night you told me you were leaving," she said and saw him
wince. "Why?"
"There were lots of things. I already told you that. Part of it was the
danger to my soul, part of it..." he took a deep breath and run his hand
through his hair in a helpless gesture. "I was so sure they were all
unselfish reasons, wanting you to be happy, to have more beside darkness and
slaying, but I think I was also afraid that one day you'd wake up and hate
me for holding you back. And that I wouldn't be able to face."
"I would never hate you," she said fiercely, tightening her arms around him,
stepping on her toes and kissing his jaw. "I love you so much. And I have
one last question," she pulled slightly back and touched the scar on her
neck. She could almost see him cringe. "You gave me this, didn't you?"
She saw him struggle; saw shame entering his eyes, almost felt his
withdrawal and held him tight. "Didn't you?" she asked again, softly,
lovingly.
Slowly he nodded. "I..." he closed his eyes. "I drank from you." The words
were choked, colored with pain, shame and self-hatred.
"What happened?"
Her voice was still gentle, loving, and he managed to open his eyes, "I was
shot with a poisoned arrow," he told her. "The only cure was a slayer's
blood."
"And I guess I had to beat you half-unconscious to make you -" she stopped
mid sentence seeing him wince, "It's the truth," she exclaimed
incredulously. "You refused to do it. That's just so like you," she scolded
gently. She laid her cheek against his chest, "I love it. The scar, you
know. I love it. It's like showing that I belong to you. And I love it even
more knowing it saved your life."
"Oh, Buffy," he whispered in awe, marveling the fact that she loved him like
this. "I love you," he said, tilting her head up with a finger under her
chin, "I love you," he repeated, covering her lips with his.
... to be continued
Hushed voices were all Wesley could hear from behind the curtain marking the
entrance to Angel's bedroom. The former watcher wanted to kick himself for
his careless words. Explaining about the Gate of Hell, about the danger they
would face, in short going into full watcher mode, had made him forget all
about Buffy's amnesia.
The rest of the group was exchanging concerned glances, while Tara and
Willow were holding hands.
Everyone staring at her followed Buffy's shocked gasp. Before anyone had been
able to say a word Angel had pulled his girlfriend towards his bedroom, closed
the curtain and was now obviously trying to explain.
How could he have been so stupid to let something like that slip, Wesley
asked himself again and again. It was probably Buffy's most traumatic
experience throughout her time as a slayer. Sending a person you loved to
the demon's dimension, like it had happened with Angel, would be more than
most people could bare. The former watcher could only guess what it meant to
her.
Wesley had only heard stories about Buffy missing for the whole summer, and
that when she returned her eyes had been serious and sad, and grown up all
of a sudden. She'd lost all her innocence, her youth, and that even when
Angel miraculously returned from Hell she never got it back. It had changed
her life forever.
Of course, at one point, she would've remembered, or they would've told her,
but not now. Now was a bad moment. With an inward sigh, Wesley looked
around, catching Giles' gaze. There was concern in the watcher's eyes but no
accusation and strangely it made Wesley feel even worse. If someone had been
shouting at him, he would've known why, but nobody blamed him and for this
it seemed as if he had to blame himself even more.
A shocked gasp was to be heard from behind the curtain, then a muffled
shout, then silence, and then sobbing. Buffy's sobs. At the same time
Angel's soothing voice. Only seconds later the curtain was pulled open,
revealing slayer and vampire, the blonde's face puffy and red from crying,
her eyes red-rimmed, her hand was firmly clasped into her lover's, she
couldn't quite meet the eyes of her friends.
"We're going on patrol," Angel announced, looking around. "It might need
some time. Xander could you please take care of Dawn?"
"Sure," he answered, nodding towards the slayer's sister, who smiled quickly
in return, and then fixed her gaze back on Buffy, who seemed very small and
fragile at the moment.
"Spike," he addressed his grand-childe, "Could you and Faith patrol as
well?"
The bleached blond vampire grinned at the brunette slayer, and nodded.
"Yeah. Might be fun."
"Good," Angel said, looking at Giles, "We'll be back in a few hours. Make
yourselves at home. Cordelia knows where everything is." He glanced at the
former cheerleader, who gave him a smile. He thanked her with his eyes then
pulled Buffy with him into the night.
*
Riley had followed the whole situation in bewilderment, sensing that there
was a lot more history between Angel and Buffy than he had guessed. Sure,
Xander told him one day and later Buffy explained even more, but this
particular, and obviously peculiar, subject never came up.
From all he observed it was clear that the subject was very painful and that
nobody in the room felt comfortable with it. Nobody, who knew what was
actually going on, that is. The police lady and Tara seemed as lost as he
was. But of course none of them had been close to either Buffy or Angel, or
at least not in the way he had been, or rather made himself believe so.
If Buffy's reaction behind the curtain were any hint, Riley wasn't so sure
he wanted to know what had caused the shocked gasps and the concerned
glances of friends and family or why the girl he was still in love with had
looked so fragile in a way he'd only seen her when her mother had been
diagnosed with a brain tumor.
But curiosity and that nasty feeling of jealousy got the better of him and
the question had left his mouth before he was able to stop it, "What was
this all about? What do you mean Angel had experience with the demon's
dimension?" his gaze was on Wesley.
"It's a long story," the former watcher replied, not willing to tell Buffy's
ex-boyfriend private details of her life with Angel. "And frankly not my
place to tell. If you want to know, ask Angel."
Spike grinned seeing the commando narrow his eyes. He could smell anger.
Anger for being left out. It gave the bleached blond vampire another kick to
see Captain Cornbread's face when his grand-sire had pulled the slayer
behind the curtain, making it quite clear that this was *their* private
space. A room with a large bed - the Poof always had it with them - was his
and the slayer's private space. Eat that soldier boy, he thought. And guess
what they're doing there.
Not that Riley didn't know already. The way Angel and Buffy were acting
around each other would tell any idiot what kind of relationship they
shared. But then, soldier boy wasn't the brightest person on this planet and
giving it to him with the sledgehammer couldn't harm. If Spike couldn't get
the slayer for himself he would at least make sure that Riley got the
message as well. Once and for all.
"They make quite a couple, don't they," Spike said almost casually, grinning
at Faith. The brunette slayer was more serious than Spike, but she had a
special dislike for Riley and caught on very quickly.
"Yeah," she said, leaning back against the wall, "She so petite and blond,
he so dark, and... big. Night and day, sun and darkness," she sighed,
"vampire and slayer. It's really romantic."
Riley gritted his teeth. He hadn't expected a warm welcome in Sunnydale.
Hell, the way he acted just before he left he even expected some hostility,
but he would be damned if he'd take such crap from an evil hostile, chip or
not, and some psycho-bitch who had once tried to screw up his relationship
with Buffy. He was about to reply, when he suddenly felt a hand on his arm.
"Please don't," a soft voice said and gazing down he found himself looking
into Dawn's huge blue eyes. "We all need to work together now," she said,
"I've lost my mom, and then Buffy, I don't want to lose her again." Her gaze
then shifted towards Spike and the bleached blond vampire felt himself
forced to nod with a gruff noise.
He turned to Faith, signaling her to follow him. "Yeah, let's go," she
agreed, grabbing a stake from a bag Angel had shown her. "I really need to
hit something." With a quick grin at Kate, she added, "Only if it's dead or
rather un-dead or ugly, slimy..." she trailed off. Seeing Kate smile, she
smiled as well and she and Spike left without another word.
*
"Are you feeling any better?" Angel asked Buffy after they'd dusted six
vampires. They were now walking through Restfield, her hand firmly clasped
in his. She hadn't said a word since they left the mansion.
"Not really," she replied, a frown appearing on her forehead, she tried to
pull her hand from his grip, but he wouldn't let her, wouldn't allow her to
retreat, feeling overwhelmed by the things Angel had told her. She'd seen
the pain on his face while he had been telling her how he'd reverted into
Angelus, had tormented and killed and how she finally had no chance but
sending him to hell.
And she just knew that he hated her for it. How could he not? She condemned
him to a fate worse than anything she could imagine and he would still be
there if some miracle hadn't brought him back. He had tried to talk to her,
but she had refused to listen, so he'd just taken her hand and pulled her
with him out of the mansion.
And here she was, standing beside him, feeling worse than she remembered,
which actually didn't say anything in her particular situation, but still...
"I don't blame you." His quiet, firm words destroyed the silence that had
settled over them. "I never did. To tell you the truth, I was, and still am
incredibly proud of you. You were acting like the slayer. To do what you
did... You were so strong, so wonderful and I loved you so much... still do.
Please don't blame yourself."
"How can I not?" she cried, finally managing to pull her hand from his,
whirling around to face him, "What I did to you..."
"I did worse to you before," he argued stubbornly.
"That wasn't you," she shouted, anger flaring in her eyes, "You told me it
was your demon. I know enough about vampires to understand that you had no
control about what he did."
"No, I didn't. But the reason he was tormenting you, trying to get to you,
was because I allowed myself to feel for you, to get close to you and worse,
I hadn't managed to prevent you from falling in love with me. That was
pushing the doors open for him, you were open for the hurt he inflicted on
you," he reached out, grabbing her shoulders. "So you see, if anyone is
guilty here, it's me or maybe the Romani for creating such a stupid curse,
not thinking about the danger, but not you. Do you understand? NOT YOU."
"God, I drove a sword right through you," she cried, still not able to look
at him. "I hurt you..." a sob tore from her throat, shaking her whole body.
"God, Angel. I killed you."
With a strangled sound her pulled her to him, held her close. "We both hurt
each other," he told her quietly, not trying to hide the pain in his voice,
"And I never saw this as some sort of competition, but I'd say I win in the
department. Although I never wanted to hurt you - not intentionally, but
that doesn't change the facts, Buffy."
Finally her arms came to encircle his waist. "What else?" she asked after a
moment. When he didn't react, she said, "I need to know, Angel. I know Giles
and the shrink think I should get my memory back piece by piece but I need
to know. What else happened?"
"I'm not quite sure what you remember," he began hesitantly. "I came back
from the demon's dimension. I have no memory of it. I just found myself back
on earth."
"But you do remember hell, right?" she asked, raising her head and looking
at him. "How was it?"
"I... I don't know how to explain it," he said carefully, for the first time
talking about his experience there, "It's a place without love, without
mercy, without any emotions besides hatred and joy of torture. The average
demon's suffer..." he hesitated, not quite finding the right words, "Some of
them enjoy the torture. Especially the vampires do. But I... I was the
perfect victim."
"Because of your soul," she said. It wasn't a question.
"Yeah," he answered it anyway. "The goal was to destroy me - my soul - and
they almost succeeded. Then I was suddenly gone, finding myself back in
Sunnydale," he told her and then added softly, "with you."
He was glad when he saw her nod, glad that she didn't ask any more
questions, because there were things he didn't want to tell, didn't want her
to know. Ever. "And after you came back? I remember some things. I even
remember the night you told me you were leaving," she said and saw him
wince. "Why?"
"There were lots of things. I already told you that. Part of it was the
danger to my soul, part of it..." he took a deep breath and run his hand
through his hair in a helpless gesture. "I was so sure they were all
unselfish reasons, wanting you to be happy, to have more beside darkness and
slaying, but I think I was also afraid that one day you'd wake up and hate
me for holding you back. And that I wouldn't be able to face."
"I would never hate you," she said fiercely, tightening her arms around him,
stepping on her toes and kissing his jaw. "I love you so much. And I have
one last question," she pulled slightly back and touched the scar on her
neck. She could almost see him cringe. "You gave me this, didn't you?"
She saw him struggle; saw shame entering his eyes, almost felt his
withdrawal and held him tight. "Didn't you?" she asked again, softly,
lovingly.
Slowly he nodded. "I..." he closed his eyes. "I drank from you." The words
were choked, colored with pain, shame and self-hatred.
"What happened?"
Her voice was still gentle, loving, and he managed to open his eyes, "I was
shot with a poisoned arrow," he told her. "The only cure was a slayer's
blood."
"And I guess I had to beat you half-unconscious to make you -" she stopped
mid sentence seeing him wince, "It's the truth," she exclaimed
incredulously. "You refused to do it. That's just so like you," she scolded
gently. She laid her cheek against his chest, "I love it. The scar, you
know. I love it. It's like showing that I belong to you. And I love it even
more knowing it saved your life."
"Oh, Buffy," he whispered in awe, marveling the fact that she loved him like
this. "I love you," he said, tilting her head up with a finger under her
chin, "I love you," he repeated, covering her lips with his.
... to be continued