Title: Beneath the Veil of Darkness
Chapter Title: Tears From Heaven
Author: Baby Blues
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com
Rated: R
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.
Summary: Three months after Buffy's death . . . Angel's bitterness and anger fogs his views as well as his hopes and dreams.
Dedication: To Jay, for being my number one bad boy. *LOL*
Excerpt:
~Angel: I don't want to talk about it, Cordelia.
~Cordelia: Well . . . you're gonna have to 'cause I'm not letting this go . . . Angel, the love of your life just died . . . but it doesn't mean you have to join her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn, and Fred walked towards Angel with hesitation, eyeing each other wearily as the vampire ignored them. They gazed at each other nervously and with question as to what they actually wanted to happen . . . what they wanted Angel to say.
For months now, the vampire had been eerily quiet and distant. But not in the way he was remote when Darla started appearing in his dreams, but mysteriously distant. He continued fighting the fight with his head held high . . . but since Buffy's unexpected death . . . he had become emotionally cold. It was like his heart had died along with the Slayer that fateful day that Willow was found sitting on the couch, her face stained with tears.
They could still remember the powerful cry of anguish he screamed as he fell to his knees and sobbed. No words had to come from Willow. It was just the feeling that had suddenly come rushing into him.
The red head had gotten up and ran over to Angel, throwing her arms around him as they cried together. And the rest of them stood quietly in the background, shocked and confused . . . but from the heartache the pair was sharing, it was obvious that it had to do something with Buffy.
After Willow explained everything and left, silence had permeated the hotel as they stared at each other uneasily. No one knew what to say. Angel had been so happy to be home . . .
And then this happened.
He rarely talked to them anymore, and when he did, it was usually a one word thing. They were lucky to hear two words . . . sometimes three or maybe even four.
The Bat Pack had let him brood for the first few days, knowing that he needed some time to absorb what had happened. But when Angel refused to attend Buffy's funeral . . . they were not only shocked, but worried about his well being.
They had been trying to work up the courage to finally talk to him, discussing what they should say or shouldn't say. And this was it . . .
Lightning struck outside, and thunder rolled in the skies . . . causing a small vibration on the ground.
They gulped nervously as they advanced towards their boss.
"What?" Angel practically growled, not taking his eyes away from the book he was reading on his lazy-boy chair in the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel.
The group stared at Cordelia. She shook her head, her eyes wide. She was not going to be the leader of their group. No way.
The others urged her on and non-too-gently pushed her forward, clearing their throats, looking else where, and scratching the backs of their necks.
Cordelia glared at them and turned to Angel, forcing a smile on her face. "How are you?"
"Fine," Angel answered tersely.
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Not much of a talker are ya?" she tried to laugh off.
"Guess not," he replied, turning a page from his book.
Cordelia got impatient and sighed. "Angel . . . "
"I don't want to talk about it, Cordelia," he warned, his jaws clenching as he tried to keep his disorderly emotions in control.
For months now, he had tried to keep everything in check, tried to deal with Buffy's death alone and in silence . . . because he knew that if he didn't, he would break down and his emotions and thoughts would run with him. He couldn't surrender . . . couldn't die along with her, to finally be with her devoid of the burdens of losing his soul and the natural order of Slayer killing Vampire. And through these thoughts of admittion of defeat, he knew he had to be stronger than that. For Buffy, for the security of the world. He had to be strong.
"Well . . . you're gonna have to 'cause I'm not letting this go," Cordelia said worriedly and with much more confidence this time, "Angel . . . the love of your life just died . . . but it doesn't mean you have to join her."
Angel slammed his book shut and threw it on the ground, causing the group to jump in surprise.
Why couldn't they just let it go? He was dealing. He was trying. Why couldn't they just stay out of it?
"I'm still here aren't I?" he growled dangerously, gazing at them angrily.
Cordelia sighed, "You're existing . . . but you're not living."
He chuckled dryly. "How would you know anyways?" he asked and got up from his seat and began walking up towards the stairs. "Oh, yeah! I remember . . . you know all, right?"
Cordelia gaped at him in silence.
"Know?" the brunette asked, shocked and entirely insulted, "I can't believe you, of all people, would say that. 'Cause I certainly remember someone I lost and really cared about." Tears brimmed her eyes as she stared at his back in pain, "I remember him dying . . . I remember having to kiss him goodbye," she said, chocking on her words as the grief consumed her heart and soul, "His name was Doyle. You do remember Doyle, don't you?" she mocked.
Angel stopped in his tracks. "I remember him," he said lowly and turned to look at her with blood shot eyes, "But it's not the same."
Cordelia chuckled. "What's not the same?!" she asked him, "I loved a man and he died . . . you loved a woman and she died!"
Angel shook his head in denial. He knew, deep down that she was right. He just didn't want to hear it. That was long ago. This was now. It wasn't the greatest excuse for his behavior, but it would do for now. "I don't have time for this."
"Fine!" she yelled after him, "Go brood in the dark! Run away from this and continue pretending she's not dead!"
He jerked towards her, his eyes glowing dangerously. "She *is* dead, Cordelia!" he yelled at her, "I know that!"
"Then what's bothering you so much?!" she shouted back.
"That I wasn't there when it happened!" he yelled at her in sorrow and fury, "That I wasn't there to hear her last words! That I wasn't there to hold her and tell her how much I loved her!" he cried, holding back his tears of pain and loss, "You had your last words with Doyle . . . I didn't even get to see Buffy . . . "
Cordelia was crying, and for once in her life, she was speechless.
"While I was off in another dimension, enjoying seeing my reflection in the mirror and being underneath the light of *two* suns, she was here!" Angel said fiercely through clenched teeth. "Fighting for her life . . . fighting for the world and her sister," he whispered, "And I wasn't even there to help her . . . "
"Angel . . . "
The vampire held up a hand. "Don't," he advised.
"But Angel . . . " Wesley began.
"I mean it, Wes," he said and turned to walk back up the stairs.
It was over. Buffy was dead and his heart was broken.
The one person in this entire world and in his entire lifetimes who had finally taught him and gave him love . . . trust . . . and happiness. She was his life, yet he was so foolish to not see it. Blinded by the thought that she would always be there if he came back . . . and he had left her.
Angel always knew that death was something Buffy couldn't possibly run away from, but he had always pictured her old and withered when she did. With her hair white and gray . . . her face wrinkled, her eyes full of wisdom and love. And he had always believed that he would be there when she took her last breath, sitting by her bed, kissing her hand and knowing that she had died happy.
But that wasn't possible . . . because she had died young . . . and he had not been there by her side. He never got to hold her . . . never got to know if she had no regrets. Never knew if she died with her still loving him.
And not knowing hurt more than he could possibly say.
But before he could take another step, Cordelia cried and fell to her knees . . . clutching at her head as an intense wave of pain exploded in her head.
The group stared at her expectantly.
"What did you see?" Wesley asked.
"Ligpit demon," she gasped, "At an alley close to the shopping center." She closed her eyes tightly, "We're gonna need everybody on this one . . . he's strong and looking for a mate."
"Let's go," Angel said, his mask back on as he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, stepping out into the pouring rain.
A demon to kill. It will take his mind off of other things.
The others stared after him, helping Cordelia back on her feet before heading out the door and following the vampire.
The sight of him, in his black jacket with rain pouring down on him, was a sad one. And their hearts broke for the en-souled vampire who had just lost the woman he loved more than anything else. Nothing they could say or do would be able to ease the vampire's heart. For the loss of a soul mate, the other half that completed you, was worse than the end of the world . . . because without that significant other, life was too incomplete to go on. And Angel was obviously trying to fight that urge to just finish it . . . no matter how much he wanted the pain of loss of Buffy Summer to end.
Gunn shook his head sadly and turned off the lights of the hotel before closing the door behind him.
Lightning crackled outside the quiet and lonely building. The shadows playing across the walls and floors of the hotel as the storm continued to rage on outside. A sudden burst of blinding white light spread through the lobby, surrounding each corner with an ethereal luminosity that consumed the entire hotel.
It slowly faded into darkness once more, and all was left was a naked form lying in the middle of the cold hotel floor.
It was shivering uncontrollably . . . tears streaming down her smooth and tanned cheeks. She was confused, and the sudden soreness her body was feeling was both numbing and excruciatingly painful.
But her trembling didn't end, nor did it show any sign of stopping. She didn't understand any of this. She didn't know where she was, how she came to be there, or why she was even there.
She gazed up at the ceiling, shaky and more than a little bewildered. But one thing was clear in her mind as one name escaped from her quivering lips, "Angel . . . "
Continued . . .
Chapter Title: Tears From Heaven
Author: Baby Blues
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com
Rated: R
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.
Summary: Three months after Buffy's death . . . Angel's bitterness and anger fogs his views as well as his hopes and dreams.
Dedication: To Jay, for being my number one bad boy. *LOL*
Excerpt:
~Angel: I don't want to talk about it, Cordelia.
~Cordelia: Well . . . you're gonna have to 'cause I'm not letting this go . . . Angel, the love of your life just died . . . but it doesn't mean you have to join her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn, and Fred walked towards Angel with hesitation, eyeing each other wearily as the vampire ignored them. They gazed at each other nervously and with question as to what they actually wanted to happen . . . what they wanted Angel to say.
For months now, the vampire had been eerily quiet and distant. But not in the way he was remote when Darla started appearing in his dreams, but mysteriously distant. He continued fighting the fight with his head held high . . . but since Buffy's unexpected death . . . he had become emotionally cold. It was like his heart had died along with the Slayer that fateful day that Willow was found sitting on the couch, her face stained with tears.
They could still remember the powerful cry of anguish he screamed as he fell to his knees and sobbed. No words had to come from Willow. It was just the feeling that had suddenly come rushing into him.
The red head had gotten up and ran over to Angel, throwing her arms around him as they cried together. And the rest of them stood quietly in the background, shocked and confused . . . but from the heartache the pair was sharing, it was obvious that it had to do something with Buffy.
After Willow explained everything and left, silence had permeated the hotel as they stared at each other uneasily. No one knew what to say. Angel had been so happy to be home . . .
And then this happened.
He rarely talked to them anymore, and when he did, it was usually a one word thing. They were lucky to hear two words . . . sometimes three or maybe even four.
The Bat Pack had let him brood for the first few days, knowing that he needed some time to absorb what had happened. But when Angel refused to attend Buffy's funeral . . . they were not only shocked, but worried about his well being.
They had been trying to work up the courage to finally talk to him, discussing what they should say or shouldn't say. And this was it . . .
Lightning struck outside, and thunder rolled in the skies . . . causing a small vibration on the ground.
They gulped nervously as they advanced towards their boss.
"What?" Angel practically growled, not taking his eyes away from the book he was reading on his lazy-boy chair in the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel.
The group stared at Cordelia. She shook her head, her eyes wide. She was not going to be the leader of their group. No way.
The others urged her on and non-too-gently pushed her forward, clearing their throats, looking else where, and scratching the backs of their necks.
Cordelia glared at them and turned to Angel, forcing a smile on her face. "How are you?"
"Fine," Angel answered tersely.
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Not much of a talker are ya?" she tried to laugh off.
"Guess not," he replied, turning a page from his book.
Cordelia got impatient and sighed. "Angel . . . "
"I don't want to talk about it, Cordelia," he warned, his jaws clenching as he tried to keep his disorderly emotions in control.
For months now, he had tried to keep everything in check, tried to deal with Buffy's death alone and in silence . . . because he knew that if he didn't, he would break down and his emotions and thoughts would run with him. He couldn't surrender . . . couldn't die along with her, to finally be with her devoid of the burdens of losing his soul and the natural order of Slayer killing Vampire. And through these thoughts of admittion of defeat, he knew he had to be stronger than that. For Buffy, for the security of the world. He had to be strong.
"Well . . . you're gonna have to 'cause I'm not letting this go," Cordelia said worriedly and with much more confidence this time, "Angel . . . the love of your life just died . . . but it doesn't mean you have to join her."
Angel slammed his book shut and threw it on the ground, causing the group to jump in surprise.
Why couldn't they just let it go? He was dealing. He was trying. Why couldn't they just stay out of it?
"I'm still here aren't I?" he growled dangerously, gazing at them angrily.
Cordelia sighed, "You're existing . . . but you're not living."
He chuckled dryly. "How would you know anyways?" he asked and got up from his seat and began walking up towards the stairs. "Oh, yeah! I remember . . . you know all, right?"
Cordelia gaped at him in silence.
"Know?" the brunette asked, shocked and entirely insulted, "I can't believe you, of all people, would say that. 'Cause I certainly remember someone I lost and really cared about." Tears brimmed her eyes as she stared at his back in pain, "I remember him dying . . . I remember having to kiss him goodbye," she said, chocking on her words as the grief consumed her heart and soul, "His name was Doyle. You do remember Doyle, don't you?" she mocked.
Angel stopped in his tracks. "I remember him," he said lowly and turned to look at her with blood shot eyes, "But it's not the same."
Cordelia chuckled. "What's not the same?!" she asked him, "I loved a man and he died . . . you loved a woman and she died!"
Angel shook his head in denial. He knew, deep down that she was right. He just didn't want to hear it. That was long ago. This was now. It wasn't the greatest excuse for his behavior, but it would do for now. "I don't have time for this."
"Fine!" she yelled after him, "Go brood in the dark! Run away from this and continue pretending she's not dead!"
He jerked towards her, his eyes glowing dangerously. "She *is* dead, Cordelia!" he yelled at her, "I know that!"
"Then what's bothering you so much?!" she shouted back.
"That I wasn't there when it happened!" he yelled at her in sorrow and fury, "That I wasn't there to hear her last words! That I wasn't there to hold her and tell her how much I loved her!" he cried, holding back his tears of pain and loss, "You had your last words with Doyle . . . I didn't even get to see Buffy . . . "
Cordelia was crying, and for once in her life, she was speechless.
"While I was off in another dimension, enjoying seeing my reflection in the mirror and being underneath the light of *two* suns, she was here!" Angel said fiercely through clenched teeth. "Fighting for her life . . . fighting for the world and her sister," he whispered, "And I wasn't even there to help her . . . "
"Angel . . . "
The vampire held up a hand. "Don't," he advised.
"But Angel . . . " Wesley began.
"I mean it, Wes," he said and turned to walk back up the stairs.
It was over. Buffy was dead and his heart was broken.
The one person in this entire world and in his entire lifetimes who had finally taught him and gave him love . . . trust . . . and happiness. She was his life, yet he was so foolish to not see it. Blinded by the thought that she would always be there if he came back . . . and he had left her.
Angel always knew that death was something Buffy couldn't possibly run away from, but he had always pictured her old and withered when she did. With her hair white and gray . . . her face wrinkled, her eyes full of wisdom and love. And he had always believed that he would be there when she took her last breath, sitting by her bed, kissing her hand and knowing that she had died happy.
But that wasn't possible . . . because she had died young . . . and he had not been there by her side. He never got to hold her . . . never got to know if she had no regrets. Never knew if she died with her still loving him.
And not knowing hurt more than he could possibly say.
But before he could take another step, Cordelia cried and fell to her knees . . . clutching at her head as an intense wave of pain exploded in her head.
The group stared at her expectantly.
"What did you see?" Wesley asked.
"Ligpit demon," she gasped, "At an alley close to the shopping center." She closed her eyes tightly, "We're gonna need everybody on this one . . . he's strong and looking for a mate."
"Let's go," Angel said, his mask back on as he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, stepping out into the pouring rain.
A demon to kill. It will take his mind off of other things.
The others stared after him, helping Cordelia back on her feet before heading out the door and following the vampire.
The sight of him, in his black jacket with rain pouring down on him, was a sad one. And their hearts broke for the en-souled vampire who had just lost the woman he loved more than anything else. Nothing they could say or do would be able to ease the vampire's heart. For the loss of a soul mate, the other half that completed you, was worse than the end of the world . . . because without that significant other, life was too incomplete to go on. And Angel was obviously trying to fight that urge to just finish it . . . no matter how much he wanted the pain of loss of Buffy Summer to end.
Gunn shook his head sadly and turned off the lights of the hotel before closing the door behind him.
Lightning crackled outside the quiet and lonely building. The shadows playing across the walls and floors of the hotel as the storm continued to rage on outside. A sudden burst of blinding white light spread through the lobby, surrounding each corner with an ethereal luminosity that consumed the entire hotel.
It slowly faded into darkness once more, and all was left was a naked form lying in the middle of the cold hotel floor.
It was shivering uncontrollably . . . tears streaming down her smooth and tanned cheeks. She was confused, and the sudden soreness her body was feeling was both numbing and excruciatingly painful.
But her trembling didn't end, nor did it show any sign of stopping. She didn't understand any of this. She didn't know where she was, how she came to be there, or why she was even there.
She gazed up at the ceiling, shaky and more than a little bewildered. But one thing was clear in her mind as one name escaped from her quivering lips, "Angel . . . "
Continued . . .