Part 5

It's amazing, the things you remember. Sometimes Angel couldn't even remember what he had eaten for dinner the previous night or his friend's birthday. He could never remember what time his meeting was when his secretary had reminded him virtually ten minutes ago, yet he could still feel…her. He could feel her skin against his, and if he closed his eyes, he could see her staring up at him, her eyes boundless as they bore into his. He shivered because she was dragging a path with the very tips of her fingers across his back. His arms still ached for he had held himself up because…he could never hurt her. Not ever. If he ran his tongue across his lips, he savored her distinct taste, and he breathed in her fragrance that never ceased to make him feel irrational and utterly bewildered. His head was overflowing with her, and nothing could fill the painful gap in his heart.

Angel twisted around in bed for the billionth time that night. Glancing at the clock, he wondered how he was going to survive the night without screaming. He got out of bed and stalked out of his bedroom. He gulped down a glass of water and stood there staring into his bathroom mirror, his eyes full of self-loathing. The words 'What have I done' nagged at his brain and he still couldn't find the answer. God, he didn't know! He didn't know anything! Had she…no. He clenched onto the glass and was sure in would implode if he didn't release his death grip. His hand cramped up but he still wouldn't let go. What had he done! This wasn't what he did!

He pulled his arms back and flung the glass against the mirror. The jagged pieces few in every direction and he doubtlessly couldn't have cared less when they slashed cruelly across his face. One of them could have landed in his eye and he probably wouldn't have made any move to remove it. Angel looked up into the destroyed, fragmented mirror and at his damaged face. His chest heaved up and down and his whole being was trembling with a composite of so many emotions what even he couldn't even begin to untangle from his mind.

He was cursed. And it was all his fault.

~~~

Buffy stared callously at the scene spread before her. For the past three hours she had seriously become confident that she really had gone crazy. Those two days in the hospital most have gotten to her more than she thought…

She grabbed a carrot and hurriedly stuffed it in her mouth. After washing it down with a gulp of milk, she took a large bite out of her apple and crunched. And the cycle continued of her cramming herself with the healthiest food she could dig up. As she took a swig of her orange juice, she noted morosely she'd gone so overboard with the doctor's advice that she was positive she had never scared herself as much as she was doing now.

The doorbell chimed from the hall, and the prospect of standing up when she infused herself with so much food was kind of distressing. But whomever it was waited not even ten seconds before ringing again. Mourning her poor stomach, which carried far too much than its purpose was, Buffy hobbled over to the door and opened it. When she saw who it was, she mouth parted slightly and her jaw went slack.

"Daddy?"

Hank Summers' beamed at her, and she was almost positive that there was a hint of tears gathering in his eyes. "Hi, honey."

"Daddy? W-what are you…? Why are you…? Hi."

The man smiled a little. "Mind if I come in?"

Buffy hastily admitted him in and they headed silently to the kitchen.

Hank raised a delving eyebrow at her when he caught side of the mass of food. "Preparing for a marathon?"

Buffy reddened as her father took a stool next to the never-ending sea of health food and supplements. "You could say that." At the wave of his arm, Buffy too was seated and a rigid stillness settled that had her shifted on her chair.

"Well…" Hank began, his tone that of one that was really trying to lighten the atmosphere. "I guess you're wondering why I'm here, huh?"

"It had crossed my mind."

"Well, I…I was wondering in you wanted to spend some time with me. In LA. Like…visit."

Buffy met his eyes, gauging his understanding of the situation. "Uh…I-I don't think I can. I mean…I'd like to but…you see, I have this thing…well, its not really a thing its…never-mind. I can't."

"If it's because of the baby, trust me, I wouldn't be keeping you away from your home for too long."

Buffy's eyes swelled in shock. That was certainly the last thing she'd expected to hear. This day was getting weirder and weirder… "You know… How do you know…?"

"Your mother called me a couple days ago and told me about…what happened," Hank said and Buffy averted her eyes.

"You must be so disappointed," she murmured, more to herself than to him.

"No, Buffy. I'm not. You're my daughter and well, even though I'm not particularly good at showing it, I do love you."

"How can you say that?" Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears of pure self-hatred and disgust. "How can you…" Her voice fluctuated dangerously and she swallowed. "How can you say that when you know what I did? This entire town is completely repulsed by me and I don't blame them."

"I could never be repulsed by you. Never."

Buffy an almost microscopic laugh and said, "That's not how Mom feels."

"Buffy, I'm sure your mother doesn't think that."

"Well, you sure haven't been around so how would you know?" Buffy snapped. As Hank sunk back a little, the spirited look gone from his face. Buffy closed he eyes momentarily as she blamed her hormones. "Sorry. I…I'm sorry."

He gave her a regretful smile and said, "You're not wrong about that. I haven't seen you in…God, almost two years. I'm the one who should be apologizing, not you."

"It's not your fault," she dismissed, not exactly interested in his remorse right now. Hormones, she noted again with a mental nod. This conversation was starting to very similarly parallel the one she'd craved for so long. "You have to work a lot. I understand."

"That's no excuse. I should have at least called."

Buffy met his eyes deliberately and hesitantly asked, "Did you want to? Did you just not have time?"

Hank rubbed her eyes ruefully and shook his head. "I don't know, Buffy. It's just… I remember a time when we used to be really close. Yes, I wanted to call you but…every time I picked up the phone, all I could think about was the time and space that separated us. And so I didn't call. I felt like I couldn't be in your life because…you don't deserve a father like me. I'm no example, and I didn't want to get in the way."

"Then why are you here now?" Despite the simmering resentment at his confession, she held no anger in her tone; she merely wanted to know.

"I want to make things right. I know it'll be hard but… I think we can make things different than they are now."

"I'd like that."