Part 8: For Better or Worse
#
Angel descended the steps to his apartment at the slowest pace possible. It was not just because of the numerous bruises he had received, the ones that were not healing as quickly as he was used to. If it was just those he could have dealt. It would take some getting used to, but he could.
It was all the things that had happened these last 24 hours that made him reluctant to enter his own home. How could so many things change so very fast?
Thinking back he should have known that Xander and Willow would not be able to come up with a convincing lie for Buffy. The redhead especially had never been able to keep a secret. Buffy had no doubt heard the shotgun blast, had seen the dust of the destroyed vampires in the courtyard, had seen the mess made when Angel had blown out half of Spike's chest with his own weapon. In the end the two teenagers had spilled the beans and Buffy had learned that Angel had been in her town.
He had not expected her to follow him to Los Angeles, though, had not expected her to walk into his office in the middle of the day. Seeing her then, framed by sunlight, anger on her face as she looked at him, had nearly torn him apart with conflicting feelings of joy and dread. He did not want a confrontation with her, had done his best to avoid it while still being there to keep her safe from Spike.
It was just too painful.
The bleached vampire had been but a short side topic in their conversation. Buffy had wanted to know whether he was dead. Angel had told her not to worry about him. He was not dead, no, but by now he probably wished he was. He would be wishing for death for a very long time. Thinking about it now made Angel a bit queasy. Dealing with Spike had definitely been a job for Angelus, not Angel, and the demon had been about it with a lot of enthusiasm. Things had changed since then, though.
Once assured that Spike would not be a danger any longer Buffy had then gone on to chew him out for his lurking ways. Why was he allowed to see her but not the other way around? They had talked in circles, finally resolving that staying apart was easier, when suddenly they found themselves under attack again.
The demon, as he learned later, was a Mhora. Buffy and Angel had followed it through the sewers, finally splitting up to cover the daylight areas as well. Angel had found the demon deep in the tunnels and had defeated it, but not before something extraordinary had happened. Something he would never have believed possible.
The thing's blood had turned him human. Human. After nearly 250 years he felt his heart beat again, felt his lungs draw in needed air, felt the warmth trailing off his own skin.
Felt the pain of every single bruise he had gotten today.
Things had happened so quickly then. The Oracles had released him from their service, telling him that he was no longer a warrior. Doyle had asked him what he wanted to do now and he had known exactly what he wanted. He had found Buffy, found her out in the sunlight, and kissed her without thinking.
They had almost managed to rationalize their way out of going further than that kiss when their hands had touched, putting an end to rationality. The hours spent together in his apartment seemed like a dream to him, the most wonderful dream he ever had. Never in all his years had he known that it could be like this. Liam had never loved anyone with such a burning intensity. Angelus had never loved at all. And Angel, well, Angel the vampire had never been allowed to love except that one all-too-short night he had lost his soul.
Now, though, they could be together, together like a man and a woman should. No curse stood between them now, not sunlight nor immortality. They were free to play, free to do everything he had ever wanted to do with her.
Like all dreams, though, it had to come to an end. Doyle had had a vision of the Mhora coming back and Angel had realized that, simply because he was now human, it did not absolve him from his responsibilities. He found himself incapable of letting it go. He knew the things that went bump in the night, had been one of those things for centuries, and could not stop fighting them simply because he was not a strong as he used to be. He also knew that, if there was to be any future relationship between him and Buffy, he had to be able to hold his own.
Unfortunately determination alone had not proven to be enough. The Mhora had nearly killed him before Buffy arrived and even then it had been a close affair. More than that, though, it had been the demon's words that had chilled him to the bone.
"Together you were strong. Alone you are dead."
He had gone to the Oracles as soon as he could stand again, had gone despite Buffy's protests that he needed to rest. He had asked them whether the Mhora's words had been true and they had confirmed it in their own cryptic fashion.
Buffy would die because he was not there to fight at her side.
He had then asked them to change him back. Give him back the strength to help her even if it cost him his newly regained humanity. None of it meant anything if Buffy had to die because of it. The Oracles had been impressed with his resolve, had complimented him for it. It had not changed anything, though.
"What has been done can not be undone," the male Oracle had said.
"You are what you are," the female had agreed. "Your time as a demon has passed."
"I need to be able to help her," Angel had pleaded. "There must be something you can do."
The two had conferred silently for a long moment, then the female had spoken to him once more.
"There will be new opportunities, warrior. If it is truly your intention to continue aiding our cause, to aid the Slayer, then you will be given a chance very soon."
"What kind of chance?"
"Be vigilante, warrior. It will be your only chance."
With that they had dismissed him, refusing to answer any more questions. He did not know what it meant. Another chance? A chance at what? He was still human, still too weak to help Buffy fight. What could they possibly have meant?
His feet finally finished their way down into his apartment and before he even knew it a blonde whirlwind was upon him, closing her arms around him in a painful hug.
"Thank God you're back," Buffy held him close as if her life depended on it.
'It does,' a voice reminded him. 'She will die if you are not there.'
"I'm here," he just said, holding her close as well, ignoring the pain of his bruises. "I'm here."
"What was the big idea, mister?" she asked him when they finally let go, giving him a stern look. "You can barely stand. What was so important that you had to go out right now?"
He looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "Nothing. I ... it wasn't as important as I thought, Buffy."
She looked at him quizzically for another minute, but then seemed to resign.
"Okay, but that's enough heroics for today. You're getting right back into bed and you're gonna stay there until you are healed and have promised me that you'll never go off like that again, okay?"
He was about to protest, tell her not to worry about him, but finally thought better of it. She was right, he did need to heal. She was also right that he had been stupid to go after the Mhora by himself. He was human now, vulnerable, no longer her equal.
You will be given a chance very soon, the Oracle had said. What kind of chance? What would happen? How could a mere human have a chance to be strong enough to fight by the Slayer's side?
Buffy manhandled him into bed and tugged him in, lying down beside him with an air of worry on her face.
"I don't want to lose you, okay?" she whispered to him, the love and worry in her voice causing his newly revived heart to ache. "Not now, not when we can finally be together."
Her small hand tenderly touched his chest and he closed his eyes, unable to meet her gaze. Somehow this was all going wrong. He had been so ecstatic at first. Being human he could be with her, like he had always dreamed but never believed it could happen. Now, though, he realized that being human entailed almost as many, if not more problems than being a vampire.
Buffy was the Slayer, would be as long as she lived. She had human friends who helped her, yes, but no one to fight by her side as an equal. He had been that equal until circumstances had forced them apart. Now those were gone, but he was no longer her equal. He could be with her now, but only to a point. She would have to go into battle alone and it would kill her sooner rather than later.
"We will be," he whispered back, wrapping an aching arm around her slender form. "No matter what happens, we will be." The alternative was unthinkable.
Exhaustion began to claim him, his wounds and the warm presence by his side pulling him under. There had to be some way to solve this, some way he could be with her in all ways, in all things, for better or worse.
"You will be given a chance very soon", the Oracle's words echoed through his mind as he finally fell asleep in Buffy's arms.
TO BE CONTINUED
#
Angel descended the steps to his apartment at the slowest pace possible. It was not just because of the numerous bruises he had received, the ones that were not healing as quickly as he was used to. If it was just those he could have dealt. It would take some getting used to, but he could.
It was all the things that had happened these last 24 hours that made him reluctant to enter his own home. How could so many things change so very fast?
Thinking back he should have known that Xander and Willow would not be able to come up with a convincing lie for Buffy. The redhead especially had never been able to keep a secret. Buffy had no doubt heard the shotgun blast, had seen the dust of the destroyed vampires in the courtyard, had seen the mess made when Angel had blown out half of Spike's chest with his own weapon. In the end the two teenagers had spilled the beans and Buffy had learned that Angel had been in her town.
He had not expected her to follow him to Los Angeles, though, had not expected her to walk into his office in the middle of the day. Seeing her then, framed by sunlight, anger on her face as she looked at him, had nearly torn him apart with conflicting feelings of joy and dread. He did not want a confrontation with her, had done his best to avoid it while still being there to keep her safe from Spike.
It was just too painful.
The bleached vampire had been but a short side topic in their conversation. Buffy had wanted to know whether he was dead. Angel had told her not to worry about him. He was not dead, no, but by now he probably wished he was. He would be wishing for death for a very long time. Thinking about it now made Angel a bit queasy. Dealing with Spike had definitely been a job for Angelus, not Angel, and the demon had been about it with a lot of enthusiasm. Things had changed since then, though.
Once assured that Spike would not be a danger any longer Buffy had then gone on to chew him out for his lurking ways. Why was he allowed to see her but not the other way around? They had talked in circles, finally resolving that staying apart was easier, when suddenly they found themselves under attack again.
The demon, as he learned later, was a Mhora. Buffy and Angel had followed it through the sewers, finally splitting up to cover the daylight areas as well. Angel had found the demon deep in the tunnels and had defeated it, but not before something extraordinary had happened. Something he would never have believed possible.
The thing's blood had turned him human. Human. After nearly 250 years he felt his heart beat again, felt his lungs draw in needed air, felt the warmth trailing off his own skin.
Felt the pain of every single bruise he had gotten today.
Things had happened so quickly then. The Oracles had released him from their service, telling him that he was no longer a warrior. Doyle had asked him what he wanted to do now and he had known exactly what he wanted. He had found Buffy, found her out in the sunlight, and kissed her without thinking.
They had almost managed to rationalize their way out of going further than that kiss when their hands had touched, putting an end to rationality. The hours spent together in his apartment seemed like a dream to him, the most wonderful dream he ever had. Never in all his years had he known that it could be like this. Liam had never loved anyone with such a burning intensity. Angelus had never loved at all. And Angel, well, Angel the vampire had never been allowed to love except that one all-too-short night he had lost his soul.
Now, though, they could be together, together like a man and a woman should. No curse stood between them now, not sunlight nor immortality. They were free to play, free to do everything he had ever wanted to do with her.
Like all dreams, though, it had to come to an end. Doyle had had a vision of the Mhora coming back and Angel had realized that, simply because he was now human, it did not absolve him from his responsibilities. He found himself incapable of letting it go. He knew the things that went bump in the night, had been one of those things for centuries, and could not stop fighting them simply because he was not a strong as he used to be. He also knew that, if there was to be any future relationship between him and Buffy, he had to be able to hold his own.
Unfortunately determination alone had not proven to be enough. The Mhora had nearly killed him before Buffy arrived and even then it had been a close affair. More than that, though, it had been the demon's words that had chilled him to the bone.
"Together you were strong. Alone you are dead."
He had gone to the Oracles as soon as he could stand again, had gone despite Buffy's protests that he needed to rest. He had asked them whether the Mhora's words had been true and they had confirmed it in their own cryptic fashion.
Buffy would die because he was not there to fight at her side.
He had then asked them to change him back. Give him back the strength to help her even if it cost him his newly regained humanity. None of it meant anything if Buffy had to die because of it. The Oracles had been impressed with his resolve, had complimented him for it. It had not changed anything, though.
"What has been done can not be undone," the male Oracle had said.
"You are what you are," the female had agreed. "Your time as a demon has passed."
"I need to be able to help her," Angel had pleaded. "There must be something you can do."
The two had conferred silently for a long moment, then the female had spoken to him once more.
"There will be new opportunities, warrior. If it is truly your intention to continue aiding our cause, to aid the Slayer, then you will be given a chance very soon."
"What kind of chance?"
"Be vigilante, warrior. It will be your only chance."
With that they had dismissed him, refusing to answer any more questions. He did not know what it meant. Another chance? A chance at what? He was still human, still too weak to help Buffy fight. What could they possibly have meant?
His feet finally finished their way down into his apartment and before he even knew it a blonde whirlwind was upon him, closing her arms around him in a painful hug.
"Thank God you're back," Buffy held him close as if her life depended on it.
'It does,' a voice reminded him. 'She will die if you are not there.'
"I'm here," he just said, holding her close as well, ignoring the pain of his bruises. "I'm here."
"What was the big idea, mister?" she asked him when they finally let go, giving him a stern look. "You can barely stand. What was so important that you had to go out right now?"
He looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "Nothing. I ... it wasn't as important as I thought, Buffy."
She looked at him quizzically for another minute, but then seemed to resign.
"Okay, but that's enough heroics for today. You're getting right back into bed and you're gonna stay there until you are healed and have promised me that you'll never go off like that again, okay?"
He was about to protest, tell her not to worry about him, but finally thought better of it. She was right, he did need to heal. She was also right that he had been stupid to go after the Mhora by himself. He was human now, vulnerable, no longer her equal.
You will be given a chance very soon, the Oracle had said. What kind of chance? What would happen? How could a mere human have a chance to be strong enough to fight by the Slayer's side?
Buffy manhandled him into bed and tugged him in, lying down beside him with an air of worry on her face.
"I don't want to lose you, okay?" she whispered to him, the love and worry in her voice causing his newly revived heart to ache. "Not now, not when we can finally be together."
Her small hand tenderly touched his chest and he closed his eyes, unable to meet her gaze. Somehow this was all going wrong. He had been so ecstatic at first. Being human he could be with her, like he had always dreamed but never believed it could happen. Now, though, he realized that being human entailed almost as many, if not more problems than being a vampire.
Buffy was the Slayer, would be as long as she lived. She had human friends who helped her, yes, but no one to fight by her side as an equal. He had been that equal until circumstances had forced them apart. Now those were gone, but he was no longer her equal. He could be with her now, but only to a point. She would have to go into battle alone and it would kill her sooner rather than later.
"We will be," he whispered back, wrapping an aching arm around her slender form. "No matter what happens, we will be." The alternative was unthinkable.
Exhaustion began to claim him, his wounds and the warm presence by his side pulling him under. There had to be some way to solve this, some way he could be with her in all ways, in all things, for better or worse.
"You will be given a chance very soon", the Oracle's words echoed through his mind as he finally fell asleep in Buffy's arms.
TO BE CONTINUED