Author's Notes: This is a really *really* short part! Sorry! The next
one is a little longer.
AN2: Thank you to those of you who sent feedback for Part 4: Christine, Lauren, Buffy friends fan, Kendra, Tariq, Ashleigh, TK, and Emma.hopefully I didn't miss anyone!
AN3: Any mistakes are my fault since this wasn't beta'd.
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Part 5 - Relentless Guilt
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For nearly an hour, Angel and Willow sat in silence at the table on the patio. Neither knew what to say. One because she didn't know how to comfort her friend who had just heard devastating news, and the other because all he could do was find ways to blame himself.
Willow knew that Angel still thought Buffy's condition was his fault even thought she'd told him that the blame did not lie squarely on his shoulders. The look on his face told her all she needed to know. The sad part was, that she could see how he could place the blame on himself. Buffy had been a happy, carefree person up until Angel left her. His actions all those years ago had set in motion the downward spiral.
At the same time, she had truly meant what she said to him: that Buffy was responsible for her own choices. No one forced her to retreat into a shell after Angel left, no one made her stay with an abusive boyfriend. Those choices were hers, and hers alone.
In the end, though, no one, and everyone was to blame. Buffy's situation was the culmination of many different things, some of which Willow was sure she didn't even know, and may never know. The only way they would find out the whole story would be if Buffy woke up, and although she still hoped for it, it got harder and harder to do so each day.
For now, she realized, Angel just needed some time to let everything sink in. The guilt would probably always plague him, as it did all of them. Some days it was harder than others to not let it overwhelm her, but she deep down she knew that no one person was responsible for all that had happened.
"Hey Willow, just wanted to let you know I'm finished for the day and heading out." The now familiar male voice brought her out of the past and back to the present.
"Okay, thanks. Did everything go well?" she questioned as she turned to face the man talking to her.
"Yeah, same as usual," the new man replied, his gaze falling on Angel.
"Oh, I should introduce you. Angel, this is Riley Finn, Buffy's physical therapist. Riley, this is Angel Malloy, an old friend of ours and Buffy's," spoke Willow tiredly. The conversation with Angel seemed to have drained all of her energy.
Angel looked up to find a tall, stiff looking man with dark blonde hair, and a goofy smile. He made no effort to shake the man's hand, just said hi and looked back down to the nonexistent spot on the ground he had been staring at. He didn't know why, but he didn't like the oafish physical therapist.
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After speaking with Willow for a little longer, finding out anything else pertinent to Buffy, Angel helped her clear the dishes from breakfast before retreating back to Buffy's room. Part of him never wanted to leave her side again, wanted to be there to do anything he could to help her, wanted to be there in case she woke up.
As he sat there by her bedside, Angel stared at her still form. He couldn't help but notice the differences in her appearance from the last time he had seen her five years earlier. She was much thinner, her face boney, her eyes sunken. Her hair was still blonde, but it was shorter and lacked the luster it had always had.
Morbid curiosity caused him to pull back her covers and lift the hem of her shirt revealing her taut stomach. His eyes closed in sadness, tears welling in them at the sight. Five rough, jagged lines marred her once perfect skin. Not even eight months had made the scars from her attack disappear. They probably would remain forever.
Gently, his fingers traced each and every mark on her stomach. The tears in his eyes fell as he wished he could take them away, take it all away, and go back to when they'd been happy. Why had he been so stupid?
She should be out enjoying life, happy. She should be married to him, as she had wanted to be so long ago. Not lying in a bed, oblivious to the world around her. The echoes of blame just would not stop sounding throughout his head. If he'd never left, none of it would have happened.
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A few hours later, Angel returned to his apartment. He was mentally and physically exhausted. Seeing Buffy as he had rattled him to the core. The memories he had of her and the sight of her lying on the bed, unconscious, just did not match. It was as if they were two completely different people. But unfortunately, the reality was that they were one and the same. His beautiful, wonderful Buffy was the one in that bed.
His fingers grazed over a photograph of Buffy and himself at their junior prom. That had been one of the best nights of their lives. They'd danced, and laughed, and had fun with their friends. Afterwards, he'd taken Buffy to his parent's beach house. There, underneath the moonlight on a blanket on the sand, they had both made love for the very first time. The experience had been magical, one he was not likely to ever forget.
Letting his hand fall to his side, Angel stood and stared at nothing. He felt completely lost. When he had moved back to Sunnydale, he had had a goal: to find some way for Buffy to forgive him and take him back. Now, he didn't know if that would ever be possible. No one knew if she would ever wake up.
Running a hand through his hair, Angel decided to take a shower. He hoped that it would help clear his head a little. But as he stood there, letting the hot water crash into his body, he found himself silently weeping for his beloved. Images of her from their time together flashed through his head, coupled with the sight of her comatose body. This outcome was not what he had wanted at all. She was supposed to be happy. That's why he left her, so she could flourish and live, but instead he'd pushed her into darkness.
The unspoken reverie of guilt persisted until the water began to run cold. He quickly finished his shower, dressed, and then sank down on to his bed. His thoughts again, or rather still, were on focused on Buffy. The last five years of her life may damn well be his fault, and he could never take them back, but he could do whatever possible now to help. He vowed to himself that he would be there in whatever way he could for Joyce and Giles, for the gang, but mostly for Buffy. He owed it to her.
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TBC.feedback happily accepted!
AN2: Thank you to those of you who sent feedback for Part 4: Christine, Lauren, Buffy friends fan, Kendra, Tariq, Ashleigh, TK, and Emma.hopefully I didn't miss anyone!
AN3: Any mistakes are my fault since this wasn't beta'd.
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Part 5 - Relentless Guilt
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For nearly an hour, Angel and Willow sat in silence at the table on the patio. Neither knew what to say. One because she didn't know how to comfort her friend who had just heard devastating news, and the other because all he could do was find ways to blame himself.
Willow knew that Angel still thought Buffy's condition was his fault even thought she'd told him that the blame did not lie squarely on his shoulders. The look on his face told her all she needed to know. The sad part was, that she could see how he could place the blame on himself. Buffy had been a happy, carefree person up until Angel left her. His actions all those years ago had set in motion the downward spiral.
At the same time, she had truly meant what she said to him: that Buffy was responsible for her own choices. No one forced her to retreat into a shell after Angel left, no one made her stay with an abusive boyfriend. Those choices were hers, and hers alone.
In the end, though, no one, and everyone was to blame. Buffy's situation was the culmination of many different things, some of which Willow was sure she didn't even know, and may never know. The only way they would find out the whole story would be if Buffy woke up, and although she still hoped for it, it got harder and harder to do so each day.
For now, she realized, Angel just needed some time to let everything sink in. The guilt would probably always plague him, as it did all of them. Some days it was harder than others to not let it overwhelm her, but she deep down she knew that no one person was responsible for all that had happened.
"Hey Willow, just wanted to let you know I'm finished for the day and heading out." The now familiar male voice brought her out of the past and back to the present.
"Okay, thanks. Did everything go well?" she questioned as she turned to face the man talking to her.
"Yeah, same as usual," the new man replied, his gaze falling on Angel.
"Oh, I should introduce you. Angel, this is Riley Finn, Buffy's physical therapist. Riley, this is Angel Malloy, an old friend of ours and Buffy's," spoke Willow tiredly. The conversation with Angel seemed to have drained all of her energy.
Angel looked up to find a tall, stiff looking man with dark blonde hair, and a goofy smile. He made no effort to shake the man's hand, just said hi and looked back down to the nonexistent spot on the ground he had been staring at. He didn't know why, but he didn't like the oafish physical therapist.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^
After speaking with Willow for a little longer, finding out anything else pertinent to Buffy, Angel helped her clear the dishes from breakfast before retreating back to Buffy's room. Part of him never wanted to leave her side again, wanted to be there to do anything he could to help her, wanted to be there in case she woke up.
As he sat there by her bedside, Angel stared at her still form. He couldn't help but notice the differences in her appearance from the last time he had seen her five years earlier. She was much thinner, her face boney, her eyes sunken. Her hair was still blonde, but it was shorter and lacked the luster it had always had.
Morbid curiosity caused him to pull back her covers and lift the hem of her shirt revealing her taut stomach. His eyes closed in sadness, tears welling in them at the sight. Five rough, jagged lines marred her once perfect skin. Not even eight months had made the scars from her attack disappear. They probably would remain forever.
Gently, his fingers traced each and every mark on her stomach. The tears in his eyes fell as he wished he could take them away, take it all away, and go back to when they'd been happy. Why had he been so stupid?
She should be out enjoying life, happy. She should be married to him, as she had wanted to be so long ago. Not lying in a bed, oblivious to the world around her. The echoes of blame just would not stop sounding throughout his head. If he'd never left, none of it would have happened.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^
A few hours later, Angel returned to his apartment. He was mentally and physically exhausted. Seeing Buffy as he had rattled him to the core. The memories he had of her and the sight of her lying on the bed, unconscious, just did not match. It was as if they were two completely different people. But unfortunately, the reality was that they were one and the same. His beautiful, wonderful Buffy was the one in that bed.
His fingers grazed over a photograph of Buffy and himself at their junior prom. That had been one of the best nights of their lives. They'd danced, and laughed, and had fun with their friends. Afterwards, he'd taken Buffy to his parent's beach house. There, underneath the moonlight on a blanket on the sand, they had both made love for the very first time. The experience had been magical, one he was not likely to ever forget.
Letting his hand fall to his side, Angel stood and stared at nothing. He felt completely lost. When he had moved back to Sunnydale, he had had a goal: to find some way for Buffy to forgive him and take him back. Now, he didn't know if that would ever be possible. No one knew if she would ever wake up.
Running a hand through his hair, Angel decided to take a shower. He hoped that it would help clear his head a little. But as he stood there, letting the hot water crash into his body, he found himself silently weeping for his beloved. Images of her from their time together flashed through his head, coupled with the sight of her comatose body. This outcome was not what he had wanted at all. She was supposed to be happy. That's why he left her, so she could flourish and live, but instead he'd pushed her into darkness.
The unspoken reverie of guilt persisted until the water began to run cold. He quickly finished his shower, dressed, and then sank down on to his bed. His thoughts again, or rather still, were on focused on Buffy. The last five years of her life may damn well be his fault, and he could never take them back, but he could do whatever possible now to help. He vowed to himself that he would be there in whatever way he could for Joyce and Giles, for the gang, but mostly for Buffy. He owed it to her.
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TBC.feedback happily accepted!
