Chapter Thirteen
His scent still lingered on the pillow. Buffy burrowed her face into it, closing her eyes, desperately trying to convince herself that the pressing emptiness she felt was not real. That he was still here. That if she called his name, he would come to her, hold her close to him and everything would be fine. Her eyes slowly opened, and she focused on the ceiling up above. Her Angel was gone. The one downstairs was an unknown quantity, one she was not sure she could trust.
She could hear footsteps on the stairs. Instinctively she knew it was Willow. It was always Willow. Whenever Buffy's heart was breaking, it was Willow who understood, who accepted, who knew the pain Buffy was feeling without needing to ask. Now was the time. Platitudes and the unconditional allegiance of her best friend were not what Buffy needed right now. There was nothing that anyone could say to allay Buffy's fears, nothing. She was about to lose everything all over again, in slow and painful detail. If that was the inevitable, Buffy wanted to postpone it for as long as possible. She knew as soon as she saw Angel's face, it was over. In this room, she was immune. Angel couldn't break her heart.
Willow entered without knocking, sitting down on the edge of the bed. For a long time she said nothing, waiting for her friend to become accepting of her presence. "He's waiting for you," she said simply.
Buffy nodded, then closed her eyes again, hugging the pillow to her. "You can't hide up here forever," Willow quipped, hoping the lightness would jolt a response from her inert friend. "Okay, maybe you can, but it would be a seriously bad idea."
Buffy finally looked up at Willow, her eyes taking in the concern so evident in her friend's face. It was all too much right now, and Buffy just wanted to shut down, to push her friends away and forget she was hurting. But she knew she couldn't. The pain she was feeling would not go away. Nor would Willow, Xander, Dawn, the LA gang or most importantly, Angel. She was an adult now. She had to deal. They expected strength from her: they expected slayer. But this wasn't a situation for the slayer; this was one for Buffy Summers. And she knew she wasn't always strong, although she always tried.
"Please, Buffy, talk to me," Will pleaded.
"I'm sorry, Will, I don't know what you expect," Buffy replied tiredly, pushing the pillow to her knees. "I've just lost Angel, the love of my life. And for all I know, it's going to get much worse right about the time the Angel down there tells me he's going back to LA with my heart in a paper bag."
A flash of defiance crossed Will's face, and she shook her head firmly. "You don't know that Buffy…"
Buffy stood abruptly, flinging the pillow across the room. "I do! It always ends the same way with Angel," she spat heatedly, as Will regarded her with compassion. "He leaves." Her voice was small, her eyes wide and beginning to water. Willow gently placed a hand on her shoulder, comforting Buffy into a hug.
"Please come down, Buffy," Willow coaxed. "Angel really wants to talk to you."
Suddenly a spark of hope flared in Buffy and she gazed at Willow in wonder. "Really?"
Willow nodded, continuing to hug her friend. What she had told Buffy was not a lie, but she worried the hope Buffy was feeling might be. She only hoped things went differently this time.
**********************
It had all happened so quickly. One minute Angel had been standing like an outsider watching this tragic love story unfold between Buffy and other Angel. The next he had felt all that pain, longing and love thrown into him, as the other Angel had merged with him and the full strength of his own emotions had tumbled out, flooding into his every pore. He had looked up and the only thing he could think of was her: his Buffy. Then he felt such guilt, such tremendous guilt. He remembered every conversation, every kiss, every promise of loving her forever, then the look in her eyes when he left without so much as a goodbye. It was unbearable. He had repressed how intense, how gnawing the pain of losing her was, of how much agony their separation had caused him. His eyes filled with tears as the memory of their reunion after her resurrection flitted through his mind. If only he had known what had happened, that she had been torn from heaven. He would have done anything, anything to have been with her. To comfort her. He had believed her when she said she understood nothing had changed; why did he have to believe her? Why couldn't he have seen the truth? Maybe then she wouldn't have turned to Spike. Maybe she could have been saved.
That was besides the point and he knew it. He had no right to make those judgements, no matter how jealous he felt. He could feel the other Angel within him, spreading a sense of calm through him, and somehow he felt more whole than he had for years. Whatever Wolfram and Hart had done, it had made him realise just how far from his true path he had been. He had been so consumed in trying to bury his pain and protect his soul that he had forgotten about his redemption. He had become too concerned with the pettiness of everyday life, of jealousy and thinking all the answers to his problems lay in the arms of Cordelia Chase. He could not believe how close he had been to totally and utterly losing the plot - something that was, bewilderingly, avoided thanks to Lilah Morgan.
Now he was desperate, absolutely desperate to see Buffy. The last time his eyes had locked with hers, her expression had twisted in such pain that he had felt physically sick. Then she had fled, running up the stairs to the sanctuary of her room, where no one had dared to follow. Except for Willow, after a little while. She still had not come down. Why not? What if Buffy never wanted to see him again? The thought was almost unbearable, but still he mulled it over and over, his mind becoming ever more bleakened by the thought of no more life without Buffy. But what right did he have to her anyway, after all he had done? Maybe it was better to leave well alone, to leave now, before he scarred her heart irrevocably. Cordelia had been right. Things never ended well between them. He could not bear to hurt her again.
He stood, his mind in a daze, as Dawn and Xander looked up at him in dulled surprise. The room was heavy with anticipation; he could sense their fears that Buffy's world was about to be left in tatters again. They said nothing, their eyes already confirming the worst. Then he heard a sharp voice.
"Going somewhere?" Angel turned and came to face with his childe. Spike glared at him openly.
"None of your business," Angel snapped distractedly, his eyes focused on the door and getting out of Buffy's life as quickly and painlessly as possible.
Spike put himself in front of Angel and stood his ground. "Oh, I think it is. The lady has a right to speak to you and you are going no where until she does."
Angel swatted him out of the way, and moved towards the door. "It won't put any notches on your bedpost, Spike, so give it up. She's too good for you."
"I know," he levelled, his eyes registering a glimmer of pain. "But I've already got those notches, Peaches, so there's need to try."
Angel shook his head in disgust at Spike's blunt honesty, and went to open the door.
"Angel?" He turned and saw Buffy, her eyes red from crying, gazing at him with a mixture of confusion and unreality. Then unable to hold back his emotions any longer, he went to her and put his arms around her, his body sagging against hers.
"I'm so sorry, love," he whispered into her hair, clinging ever tighter to her waist. "I'm so sorry."
And then all over again, Buffy had no idea what to say. The only real thing to her right now was Angel, his arms around her, his lips kissing her hair. She did not notice the others leave, or the last look of hope Willow flashed them both. Or realise this was the time for them both to talk.
**********************
Lilah Morgan knew she was in the deepest of all troubles. The Robed Demon was gone, and for all the surveillance in this place, there was no way of determining for sure who had took him or where he had gone. All she had was her intuition, which was strongly telling her that she should look closer to home. What did they say? You always hurt the ones you love. She was beginning to think that worked in reverse too, for she knew the feelings she had for Wesley were far from love. Still he was great in bed.
She gazed again over LA, out of her big office window, and wondered how she had travelled from white picket fences to all this. One time she had been the American dream: all shining white teeth and pom poms. So she still had the teeth but the wholesome aspect was gone. Oh well, life goes on.
"Hello, Lilah," Wesley intoned, perching himself on the edge of her desk.
She smiled to herself wanfully, her eyes still focused on the city's skyline. "I wondered when you would turn up."
Ignoring her comment, Wesley picked up a file on her desk, making a show of flicking through it casually. "The Angel casefile - interesting," he mused, his voice dangerously low. Then he banged the file onto the desk, glaring at an unmoving Lilah. "Nice to know it involved trying to kill my friends."
Lilah turned round then, regarding Wesley with slight amusement. "What did you expect, Wesley? I'm no choir girl. If you want pure and untainted, try looking up the Texas Twig," she taunted lightly, holding up her hand when he opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, I forgot. She doesn't want you. Not to worry, Wes. For people like you and me, all of this, it's just a game. It just depends what side you're playing for." She paused then, studying him with an evil grin curving her lips. "Unless of course you're hedging your bets."
"We're done with that," he bit back harshly. "I've known your game all along, and I've played you as much as you've played me. But it's over. We're over, Lilah."
She smiled at him, a little coquettishly, running her hand gently along the curve of his cheek. "Oh come on, Wesley. We both know what you want, what you really need." His hand suddenly fastened on her wrist, stopping its slow trail down his chest. She glanced up at him in uncertainty when she caught the hardness in his eyes.
"What I need is to do the right thing," he responded, pushing her hand away from him firmly. "What you need to do is leave Wolfram and Hart."
Lilah shook her head, a small laugh escaping her lips. "I'll never do that. This is my life," she told him with conviction.
"Even when they take it from you," was his rejoinder.
Lilah's face steeled, and she stood up straighter, folding her arms. "I'll take my chances."
Wesley gazed at her carefully, taking in her smart suit, her flawless makeup and glossy hair. It was all just for show. Inside Lilah there was a chasm of nothingness, an abyss that could never be filled. She would set herself with empty challenges all her life, and give it all for a cause she cared nothing about. His heart stung at her vulnerability and fatalism. Whatever he said, whatever he did, Lilah would refuse to see there was another way. She was destined to be a slave all her days. "Take care, Lilah," he murmured sincerely, as he scooped up the file and left.
As the door shut, Lilah felt a small shiver deep inside. A tear almost formed, but as quickly as it appeared, she had already shrugged it off, and was sat at her desk, looking at a new casefile. She may have failed this time, and no doubt she would again, but this was not a battle: this was a war. And bit by bit, she would chisel away at Angel's defences as rapidly as he could rebuild them, until there was no resistance. When the End of Days arrived, Angel would be fighting on Wolfram and Hart's side. As for Wesley - maybe he would learn the real difference between black and white. Until then, she had a lot of work to do.
**********************
Buffy nervously twiddled with her hair, trying hard to look casual while looking at Angel from the corner of her eye. Unwittingly she caught his eye and smiled awkwardly at him. He returned her smile thankfully, and turned to her.
"Buffy," he began slowly.
"Time to talk, I know. Time to wake up and smell the coffee," she babbled, wringing her hands anxiously. "Big Buffy-Angel chat time. It's just like old times. All we need is a sewer and a demon and yay." Angel glanced at her gently, and she finally stopped bumbling. "So what are we going to do, Angel?" The words came out slightly choked and Angel swallowed hard.
"I don't know," he told her honestly.
"Oh." She looked away quickly, but the disappointment was clear in her voice.
He reached for her hand and encouraged her to look up at him. "It doesn't mean I don't love you. It's just that a lot has been going on for us both, Buffy. I don't want to rush into anything we might both regret."
Sighing heavily, she slowly withdrew her hand from his. "Sometimes declarations of love just aren't enough, Angel," she answered quietly. "I've been through hell and all I know is since coming back from heaven, the time I spent with Ang-, the other one of you, has been the happiest of my life. I need someone in my life, someone I love. I need you, Angel, you, because it's you I love. I never stopped, never."
Angel looked down, slightly guiltily. He wanted so badly to tell her that he could be that person, but he was not sure he could be. All his life, she had been the only woman he had ever loved; she meant everything to him. As he thought back through their time together though, all he could remember was the pain he had caused her, the tears she had cried in his name. How did he know it would be any different this time? How could he risk hurting her again? More than that, how did he know his soul would be safe? He knew that if they let themselves become involved again, there would be no way to stop things progressing further. That was ultimately why he knew he could not stay in Sunnydale right now. She was his weakness: he needed to be strong.
Still he felt a force inside of him pushing back, telling him how wrong he really was. His love for Buffy was strong, so strong that it could overcome any obstacle. He had to stay, he had to fight for her. She was the only thing that had ever given his life real meaning - how could he throw that away. Something could be done about his soul; surely there was a way to anchor it. There had to be some way to make sure that he did not have to again go through the agony of being so close to having a future with Buffy, only to have it cruelly snatched away. He squashed that emotion down, ignoring his gut instinct. He reasoned he had no right to take risks - not with her heart.
He felt her eyes upon him, her gaze heavy with anticipation and the teensiest speck of hope. Right now, he did not want to face her. But he had no choice. She was here, waiting for an answer.
"I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. "Right now, I can't stay."
With seeming calm, she eyeballed him, making Angel feel she could see into the depths of his being. "Why?"
Angel shifted uneasily, avoiding her eyes. "Because I love you too much to risk hurting you again."
Suddenly Buffy stood, and began to make her way up the stairs. Quickly he followed her, placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Buffy, wait," he pleaded, a little frantically.
"No," she snapped, whirling round and pushing his hand from her. "There is nothing left to say. I've heard the speech before where you make out you know best and make all the decisions for me. You know, I really thought it would be different this time. He promised me he would yell harder, that he would make you listen, but you're just ignoring him!"
"It's not like that," he replied slowly, hoping she would not notice the trembling of his body. "There is no way I can keep you safe. If we get involved, we'll both want more, and my soul-"
Buffy gaped at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Is that why you want to break my heart again?" she questioned him harshly. "Have you so little faith in us that you couldn't just let us try? We could get through this, we could search for a cure. But you won't even try."
Angel gazed after her as she walked up the stairs, unable to comprehend that he was losing the love of his life yet again. But he had to. It was the only way he could make sure she had the normal relationship she truly deserved. Normal like the one she had with Spike, he taunted himself. He thought how ridiculous that notion was in light of that, but he refused to change his mind. It was done now; there was no going back. Still he could not shake the feeling he was doing something very wrong.
"Buffy," he called up the stairs, not really sure what he was going to say. She turned brokenly, her eyes dulled. "I'm just going to go. Not say goodbye."
Without responding, she continued up the stairs to her room, shutting the door quietly behind her. He sat on the stairs, his head in his hands, the finality of it all sinking in. Then he began to weep.
**********************
"I can't believe him. What a jackass!" Buffy stared at her best friend in surprise, to which Willow shrugged her shoulders defiantly. "I stand by what he said: he is a jackass."
From the floor, Dawn smirked, cuddling Mr Gordo tightly. "I agree with, Willow," Dawn chipped in. "Could you turn him into a toad?" Will's face momentarily brightened, but at a sharp look from Buffy, she tried to look a little contrite. However she failed dismally and continued to glower at the thought of Angel's leaving.
"He's really scared," Buffy said softly. "He can't help it. He thinks he'll lose his soul."
"Like last time you two got pelvic," Dawn interjected helpfully, tossing Mr Gordo playfully into the air.
"Dawn," Willow said quickly. "That's not really the point."
Buffy flashed Willow a grateful smile. "No, it's not. There's so many reasons why me and Angel should be together, but he's not paying attention to any of those right now." A tear slipped down Buffy's face and Willow realised how quickly she needed to act. Something she had read in her research about the splitting of Angel had piqued her interest. Until now she had not given it any serious thought. It was the idea of balance, of how for two things to peacefully co-exist there needed to be an elimination of conflict. It had vaguely alluded to a method of restoring balance, and thus cleansing a person. At the time, she had took it in the context of the need to restore the two Angels to one, but now she saw a whole different, more revelatory meaning. What if it meant she could remove Angel's curse?
"What is it, Will? Buffy asked her, noticing the far away look on Willow's face.
"Nothing," Will answered hastily. "Look, you and Dawn need some quality Summers sister time and I gotta make sure Spike and his two stooges are behaving themselves."
Dawn looked perplexed for a second. "So what are you going to do with the demon?" she asked. "It did try to hurt Angel and raise a big bad."
Buffy shrugged nonchalantly. "I think we'll leave that to Spike. He seemed to be having fun sorting him and Vince out."
**********************
Angel began to sort through his clothes halfheartedly. It was amazing how long it was taking to pack them into an overnight bag when it had only taken a few minutes to throw them in there. Maybe it had something to do with the fact his heart really was not in leaving. Or that he was in excessive brood mode, proof positive of the other Angel's powerful influence.
"Wow, you really do suck at packing," Will commented, standing at the doorway with Xander.
"Yeah," he replied tiredly, casting a glance at the redhead and Xander.
"So, Angel, is it really true you are about to break my friend's heart again or is that just a vicious rumour?" Xander asked snippily.
Angel zipped the bag shut roughly, giving Xander a steady glare. "Since when was what happens between me and Buffy any of your business?" he demanded.
"When you're making the biggest mistake of your life," Willow stated emphatically. Angel stared at her in askance, surprised she had intervened in an exchange between himself and Xander. "We can't just let you go without letting you know how wrong you are."
Angel looked pained, and concentrated for a moment on collecting some errant papers together. "This is hard for me, Willow," he told her finally. "Please don't make it harder."
Xander guffawed, causing Angel's steely gaze to fall on him again. "Oh, enough with the melodrama! Can you hear yourself? You just can't stand to hear the truth can you? You're being a stupid jerk, a stupid jerk who needs to listen."
"And you're getting yourself closer to feeling the full force of my fist," Angel countered tersely.
As the stand-off between the two men started to heat up, Willow laid a calming hand on Xander's arm. "That's enough," she said firmly, giving them both a stern eye. "We're going to go now. But I think you should know that all the answers are not set in stone. Things do change, Angel. And sometimes you should trust your friends to know better than you. Because sometimes there's things they know that will change everything."
Angel watched Willow leave arm in arm with Xander, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of some plan he had no idea about. It was entirely unlike Willow to be so cryptic, as she was normally so bad at keeping at secret. He had no energy to question her any further.
Suddenly Cordelia appeared behind him and without turning around he knew she would be wearing a grin laced with self-satisfaction and frank relief. "Ready?" she asked brightly.
"Won't be long," he mumbled, waving her away. Slipping a hand in his pocket, he drew out a miniature picture of Buffy he always kept with him. Looking at it wistfully, he gently kissed it and put it back in his pocket. It was time to go.
**********************
As Wesley pulled up outside Buffy's house, he was taken aback to see the LA Gang making their way towards Angel's car. Jumping out of the car quickly, Wesley headed towards the house, trying to see where Angel was. He should have known.
Huddled on the doorstep were the figures of Angel and Buffy, tears rolling down both of their faces. It was a typical scene for them: huge emotion and biting angst. Wesley watched, fascinated by the scene that played out in front of him. Buffy was tearfully begging him to stay and he was playing the martyr, telling her had to go. Wesley had always been dismissive of their relationship, not buying the depth of feeling they professed to have for one another: but now he was almost in tears himself. He could not believe that Angel would give up the love of his life yet again. The past few weeks had been a rollercoaster ride for all of them, especially Angel and Buffy. After all of that, he could not believe that Angel would just walk away.
"Please Angel, please at least say goodbye," he could hear Buffy begging.
Angel gently shook his head, instead pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before turning round and heading for his car. Wesley watched as Buffy sobbed into Willow's arms, and Xander, Dawn and Spike glared at the retreating back of Angel. Then suddenly Angel was right in front of him, and Wesley had to find something to say.
"Wesley," Angel greeted coldly.
"You're leaving," was the only answer Wesley could muster.
"Yes," Angel said dryly. "And this is not unlike a conversation I've had a thousand times already tonight."
"Angel, I knew what Lilah was up to right from the start. You were right. But I also stopped her," Wesley explained. "I'm sorry it nearly cost you and Buffy your lives."
"You're sleeping with her," Angel observed flatly.
"Yes," Wesley answered simply. "I was." He handed Angel the case file he had retrieved from Lilah's desk. "This is everything on the stunt she pulled - from the spell, to the amended plan she made to kidnap Buffy. I thought you should have it."
Angel looked at the file disinterestedly, and made to leave. "That's nice, Wes, but I really have to go now."
"Are you sure?" Wesley pressed suddenly. "Are you sure you're doing the right thing?" Angel shook his head in disbelief, and began to walk away. "Sometimes Angel, you only get one shot. Some mistakes are unforgivable," Wesley continued. "I should know."
Angel turned and looked at him, giving him a strange smile, before sprinting off towards Buffy's front door. Fred came over to Wesley, her face confused. "What's he doing?"
Wes gave her a small smile. "Putting things right."
**********************
Buffy could hear hammering on the door, then yelling. She stood at her door, watching Angel pound at her door, unable to move. It was not until Willow stepped around her and opened the door, that Buffy finally budged.
"Buffy," Angel gasped, his voice breathy. She saw his dark eyes fill with tears, and his arms begin to snake towards her, but still she could not respond. Everything felt so unreal, as if Angel's lips were moving towards hers in slow motion.
"Is this real?" she asked in a small voice.
Angel stopped dead, gazing at Buffy in concern. Gently he put a finger under her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Yes, it is. As real as the love I feel for you," he answered, his voice thick with emotion. "I have been so wrong, Buffy, so wrong. I just need you to tell me that we've still got a chance."
She looked at him in shock for a moment, trying to comprehend what he had just said. Without answering, she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him tenderly. As the kiss deepened, her fingers knotted in his short dark hair, bringing him closer. Then they heard the sound of clapping from behind them, and they broke the kiss off, both panting, and turned to see a beaming Willow and Dawn.
"I knew you'd see sense," Willow told him. "Especially since I've got some really good news for you two lovebirds." A flash of hope crossed Buffy's face, as she clung tightly to Angel's hand. "I've found a spell to anchor Angel's soul."
"How?" Buffy asked, stunned, as Angel's eyes were glittering in wonder.
"Just a little balancing here and there," Will dashed off. "You know, just to make Angel and his housemate dwell in there a little easier." She pointed to Angel's chest, indicating the evil Angelus. "If we balance the soul and the demon, there should be no more curse."
Suddenly Angel threw his arms around Willow, and she blushed, a little taken aback. "That is so amazing. Thank you, Willow, for everything," he gushed.
"That's okay," she replied, smiling happily. "Just take good care of her."
"Yeah," Dawn retorted. "Or else."
Angel nodded soberly to them both, then turned back to Buffy. "I guess we have a future to think about," he said huskily, taking her hand.
Buffy gazed at him, her lips curving into a gentle smile. "Yes, we do."
The End.