Conversations In Rome-Underneath
Summary: Takes place after Ats episode Underneath.
I pace my room, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. If I stop I fear what might happen. I honestly don't know. Maybe I'll break down, curl up in a fetal position and spend a few years rocking myself and making high pitched keening noises. Maybe I'll lose the ever tenuous hold I have on Angelus, I'll let him out and he will burn the world around us to ash.
I can't do that, no matter how badly I want too, so I pace. I lost another one tonight. It took so long to earn his trust, trust I obviously didn't deserve, and I lost him. I let him go to a Hell dimension because I needed some one who had more information then he did. I traded a friend for information and someone I hate. A few years ago I would have found that unthinkable, unforgivable and beyond comprehension, yet I did it without a second thought. I used to save souls, now I leave them behind to be tortured, to have their hearts ripped out, literally.
The phone rings and I know it's her. I know because I need her. She's always there when I need her.
"Hello," I answer the phone.
"Angel,"
"Buffy," just saying her name eases this steel band that has tightened around my chest.
"I needed my Angel fix," she confesses with a little chuckle.
I want to weep. My knees buckle and I catch myself on the arm of a chair. I ease myself into the chair. The beautiful creature on the phone needs me, just like I need her. It has never failed to amaze me, particularly now that I find myself so despicable, so unworthy. I swallow the sob barely contained. "Happy to oblige," I somehow manage to get out.
"Tell me," she says. It's a gentle request, almost as if she knows, almost as if she can feel my pain even across an ocean. Somehow it doesn't seem as far fetched as it sounds. She's my soul's mate. Is it any wonder she would realize its dying, or maybe more appropriately being murdered a little every day.
I take a deep breath. I consider denying that anything is wrong but I can't bring myself to do it. I need to tell her. Something deep and primal inside me knows that telling her will somehow ease the pain. Then I consider not telling her for a different reason, I deserve to feel this way. I deserve to be tormented for an eternity just like Gunn will be.
"Gunn," just choking out his name is hard. "I lost Gunn," I stop and take ragged breaths.
"Breathe Angel, in and out, deep breaths. It's going to be okay. I'm right here, just breathe," Buffy says.
I start to tell her I don't have to breathe, but she knows that. She doesn't want me to breathe because I have too. She wants me to breathe because she knows it's calming. "He-I had to go get this lawyer. I needed him. He knows about the senior partners. He was in a Hell dimension. Gunn insisted on going with us. He'd just gotten out of the hospital. I shouldn't have let him go. He knew-he knew that in order for someone to leave, someone would have to stay. He stayed, Buffy, and they kill him, everyday," my voice breaks.
She's silent for a moment and I can hear her breath trembling over the line. "Angel," just that one word and somehow it's more comforting then any of the platitudes anyone else could ever give. I close my eyes and soak up the sound of her heartbeat, the weight of her breath. There was nothing anyone could say to make the events of the past few weeks better, but somehow Buffy's silence helps.
"I screwed up, Buffy. I screwed up so bad. I thought I could change things from here but it's all been a distraction. They couldn't bring me over to their side completely but they figured out a way to keep me occupied while they started the apocalypse," I say.
"So it's an apocalypse, between the two of us we've stopped over a dozen of them. We'll stop this one too," she says.
I shake my head. "No, this isn't an apocalypse, it's the apocalypse, the world ending one and I let it happen because I was too stupid and too high and mighty to realize what was going on right in front of my face."
"So we'll stop the apocalypse, no big. We can do this together, Angel," Buffy says.
"No, you asked me to be your second front once, now I'm asking you. No matter what you hear, don't come here. I need you there. I can't fight this thing and know you're at risk. I can't risk you, Buffy," I close my eyes and wonder if she realizes she is the only thing keeping me from walking into the sun right now.
There is a long silence. Finally she says, "I feel useless, Angel. You're dealing with the apocalypse, the big one, you're hurting and I feel useless."
I chuckle and it is a sad forlorn sound. "What you're doing right now, it's saving my life, Buffy. It's keeping me fighting when all I really want to do is walk outside and greet the sun. You're not useless. You couldn't be useless if you tried."
"It's that bad?" She asks and I can hear the beginnings of tears in her voice.
I sigh. "It's that bad, but I'll handle it, somehow I'll handle it because I have too but I'm tired. I'm so tired of fighting and I'm tired of being alone. Why am I always alone?"
"You're never alone, Angel," her voice comes quiet, hushed and reverent over the line. "As long as you walk this earth my soul walks with you and you are never alone."
I take a long, deep breath. "Thank you," I whisper.
"I'm always here, Angel, if you ever need me. Forever, that's the whole point," she says.
I close my eyes and I'm standing on a beach that I've never seen in a sunset, my arms wrapped around Buffy, "If I were blind, I would see you."
"How did you know?" She asks.
I shake my head, forgetting for a moment that she can't see me. "The same way I've always known."
There is silence on the line. I don't know if it lasts a heartbeat or a week, time is irrelevant.
"Angel, I need to go but remember when you're done fighting this apocalypse, I'll be right here waiting for you." The phone clicks in my ear.
I set the cordless phone back in the cradle. I pull the curtains on the windows shut and crawl into bed. I close my eyes and I dream of that beach that I've never seen, a sun that doesn't kill me and a girl that's been mine since the beginning of time.
Summary: Takes place after Ats episode Underneath.
I pace my room, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. If I stop I fear what might happen. I honestly don't know. Maybe I'll break down, curl up in a fetal position and spend a few years rocking myself and making high pitched keening noises. Maybe I'll lose the ever tenuous hold I have on Angelus, I'll let him out and he will burn the world around us to ash.
I can't do that, no matter how badly I want too, so I pace. I lost another one tonight. It took so long to earn his trust, trust I obviously didn't deserve, and I lost him. I let him go to a Hell dimension because I needed some one who had more information then he did. I traded a friend for information and someone I hate. A few years ago I would have found that unthinkable, unforgivable and beyond comprehension, yet I did it without a second thought. I used to save souls, now I leave them behind to be tortured, to have their hearts ripped out, literally.
The phone rings and I know it's her. I know because I need her. She's always there when I need her.
"Hello," I answer the phone.
"Angel,"
"Buffy," just saying her name eases this steel band that has tightened around my chest.
"I needed my Angel fix," she confesses with a little chuckle.
I want to weep. My knees buckle and I catch myself on the arm of a chair. I ease myself into the chair. The beautiful creature on the phone needs me, just like I need her. It has never failed to amaze me, particularly now that I find myself so despicable, so unworthy. I swallow the sob barely contained. "Happy to oblige," I somehow manage to get out.
"Tell me," she says. It's a gentle request, almost as if she knows, almost as if she can feel my pain even across an ocean. Somehow it doesn't seem as far fetched as it sounds. She's my soul's mate. Is it any wonder she would realize its dying, or maybe more appropriately being murdered a little every day.
I take a deep breath. I consider denying that anything is wrong but I can't bring myself to do it. I need to tell her. Something deep and primal inside me knows that telling her will somehow ease the pain. Then I consider not telling her for a different reason, I deserve to feel this way. I deserve to be tormented for an eternity just like Gunn will be.
"Gunn," just choking out his name is hard. "I lost Gunn," I stop and take ragged breaths.
"Breathe Angel, in and out, deep breaths. It's going to be okay. I'm right here, just breathe," Buffy says.
I start to tell her I don't have to breathe, but she knows that. She doesn't want me to breathe because I have too. She wants me to breathe because she knows it's calming. "He-I had to go get this lawyer. I needed him. He knows about the senior partners. He was in a Hell dimension. Gunn insisted on going with us. He'd just gotten out of the hospital. I shouldn't have let him go. He knew-he knew that in order for someone to leave, someone would have to stay. He stayed, Buffy, and they kill him, everyday," my voice breaks.
She's silent for a moment and I can hear her breath trembling over the line. "Angel," just that one word and somehow it's more comforting then any of the platitudes anyone else could ever give. I close my eyes and soak up the sound of her heartbeat, the weight of her breath. There was nothing anyone could say to make the events of the past few weeks better, but somehow Buffy's silence helps.
"I screwed up, Buffy. I screwed up so bad. I thought I could change things from here but it's all been a distraction. They couldn't bring me over to their side completely but they figured out a way to keep me occupied while they started the apocalypse," I say.
"So it's an apocalypse, between the two of us we've stopped over a dozen of them. We'll stop this one too," she says.
I shake my head. "No, this isn't an apocalypse, it's the apocalypse, the world ending one and I let it happen because I was too stupid and too high and mighty to realize what was going on right in front of my face."
"So we'll stop the apocalypse, no big. We can do this together, Angel," Buffy says.
"No, you asked me to be your second front once, now I'm asking you. No matter what you hear, don't come here. I need you there. I can't fight this thing and know you're at risk. I can't risk you, Buffy," I close my eyes and wonder if she realizes she is the only thing keeping me from walking into the sun right now.
There is a long silence. Finally she says, "I feel useless, Angel. You're dealing with the apocalypse, the big one, you're hurting and I feel useless."
I chuckle and it is a sad forlorn sound. "What you're doing right now, it's saving my life, Buffy. It's keeping me fighting when all I really want to do is walk outside and greet the sun. You're not useless. You couldn't be useless if you tried."
"It's that bad?" She asks and I can hear the beginnings of tears in her voice.
I sigh. "It's that bad, but I'll handle it, somehow I'll handle it because I have too but I'm tired. I'm so tired of fighting and I'm tired of being alone. Why am I always alone?"
"You're never alone, Angel," her voice comes quiet, hushed and reverent over the line. "As long as you walk this earth my soul walks with you and you are never alone."
I take a long, deep breath. "Thank you," I whisper.
"I'm always here, Angel, if you ever need me. Forever, that's the whole point," she says.
I close my eyes and I'm standing on a beach that I've never seen in a sunset, my arms wrapped around Buffy, "If I were blind, I would see you."
"How did you know?" She asks.
I shake my head, forgetting for a moment that she can't see me. "The same way I've always known."
There is silence on the line. I don't know if it lasts a heartbeat or a week, time is irrelevant.
"Angel, I need to go but remember when you're done fighting this apocalypse, I'll be right here waiting for you." The phone clicks in my ear.
I set the cordless phone back in the cradle. I pull the curtains on the windows shut and crawl into bed. I close my eyes and I dream of that beach that I've never seen, a sun that doesn't kill me and a girl that's been mine since the beginning of time.