Chapter 15: Closed Eyes
Author's thanks at end.
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'My world was on fire and no one could save me but You
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do
I never dreamed I that would love somebody like You
And I never dreamed I that would lose somebody like You
No, I don't want to fall in love
This world is only gonna break your heart
No, I don't want to fall in love
This world is only gonna break your heart
With You.'
- 'Wicked Game' by Chris Isaak
X
In the end it was not thoughts of worthiness or of humanity that made the difference. It was not dreams of a world with lesser evil or of triumphs over evil, but her. His hope was not futile, his fight not a false illusion as long as she was there. As long as Buffy was in the world, there was a reason to keep fighting. As long as Buffy was there, he had a reason to believe in a better world.
Angel wondered whether she knew. Maybe she did. Maybe she did not.
He was no longer certain it even mattered. Perhaps he would tell her someday.
Angel had found it best to spend the drive home ensuring Giles that Wolfram and Hart would cover all costs of the damages that the demon had inflicted upon his property. And still the Watcher fell threateningly silent upon seeing his front door occupying the middle of the dark street, and his mood hardly improved as he followed the neat route Helhesten had laid throughout the house by mowing straight through wall after wall.
'Zoey!' Xander remarked breathlessly, as he stared into the study from the living room where Helhesten had burned straight through the wall.
'Trendy,' Buffy nodded in accord.
Willow padded the former Watcher comfortingly on the shoulder. 'Positive thinking is the key to success,' she said. Giles just stared in shocked silence. 'Now it'll be much quicker for you to get a book when you need it.'
'Red's right,' Spike said. 'Much more practical, really.' He had placed a cigarette between his teeth and flicked the lighter, when Angel plucked it out of his mouth. 'Oi!'
'Don't smoke,' Angel said and pocketed the cigarette, ignoring the younger vampire's articulate grimaces and gestures. 'And go get the front door.'
Spike stared at him for a second, his expression clearly saying he did not believe Angel could be serious. 'No, no, no,' he shook his head. 'No soddin' way. The bleedin' pony bites me bloody arm half off and you want me to play Bob the bleedin' Builder? No chance, Peaches.'
'Wimp,' Angel scoffed.
Spike looked delighted. 'Tossing nonce!'
'Enough!' Giles yelled. 'Or you can join the darn door!'
'I'll make tea,' Willow said, sudden and shrilly, and Angel saw the look Buffy shot her. Willow waved her hands as if to say 'Well you didn't do anything!' before disappearing into the now door-less kitchen.
From his spot in one of the chairs, Xander suddenly became alive. 'And I'll go and get doughnuts!'
'Oi! And Scotch!' Spike exclaimed and Angel glared at him. 'No party's a party without excess alcohol, Peachy-dear.'
Wesley had slumped into one of the chairs, his eyes closed and his fingers gently massaging the area underneath his eyes. Giles had disappeared upstairs, probably to change into something dry.
The door was not particularly enthusiastic about being placed back on its hinges and did its best to convince Angel that it did not fit in the frame. However, a violent jerk later, which resulted in tiny flakes of white paint and dust drizzling down upon him from the ceiling, Angel turned and headed back into the living room. He had hardly stepped into the room, before he felt Spike's hand upon his arm.
'Is it supposed to do that?' He was no longer wearing his long leather duster but a dark tight-fitting T-shirt, and as he held his arm forward, Angel saw how the flesh had blackened around the ghostly white markings of Helhesten's teeth. Frowning, Angel pulled the sleeve of his blouse aside to expose similar markings on his own arm. There was no sign of the demon's teeth having pierced the skin, only the pearly white markings surrounded by black, and the muscle had gone numb.
Wesley stepped up beside him. 'Intriguing,' he muttered.
Buffy wrinkled her nose at the former Watcher. 'Gross,' she corrected him. 'What is it?'
'Uh...' Angel managed. She cocked an eyebrow at him.
'Will it go away?' Spike glowered at Wesley as though it was his fault.
'I can't really tell, before I know, what it is,' the other answered bluntly.
Spike glared at him for a moment. Then he strode to the table, grabbed a book and slammed it against the Watcher's chest. 'Then work it out.'
Wesley yanked the book out of the vampire's hands, shot him a withering look, and dropped down in a chair without a word.
'Well,' Buffy crossed her arms before her uncertainly. 'I think some dry clothing would be nice. So...you guys just sit tight, and, and I'll be back.' After a fleeting glance at Angel, she turned and ran up the stairs. He watched her go, listened to the rhythm of her steps, memorizing. Willing himself to remember. They would have to leave for LA early in the morning. The minutes were ticking by, drawing the moment where he would have to let her go again closer, ever closer.
He knew it, and yet the mere thought of it froze him from within.
'Ah!'
He blinked. 'What?'
Wesley turned another page. 'Well, according to these texts, all who set sight upon or touch Helhesten will die before the following dawn.'
Spike did not look as though this gave him reason to cheer. 'I seriously hope there's a twist ending to this.' And when Wesley still did not speak: 'So?'
Wesley smiled dryly. 'Technically, you are both dead.'
'And discoloured, pal!' Spike snapped acidly, throwing out an arm.
'You could always try some of the stuff you abuse your hair with,' Angel suggested.
'You're such a twit.'
Angel turned to Wesley. 'So, what is it?'
Wesley stood up, carefully pulling his wet overcoat off. 'Technical version?' He walked into the tiny reception hall and hung it beside Spike's coat. 'Helhesten has infected you. What appears black is in fact scorched muscle, and had you been mortal this would have taken a couple of hours to spread throughout your body.' Calmly, he strode through the room, slumping into the small couch. 'However, since you are demons yourselves with advanced regenerative powers, and dare I say it, no beating heart to pump the infection around your body in your blood, you should be absolutely fine in a week or two.'
Angel and Spike exchanged a look. Angel did not know what to think of this, but then Spike shrugged. 'Hell, that works for me.'
A loud slam made them all jump and spin around, but Angel relaxed upon seeing Xander's face in the door. 'Doughnuts!' he announced gleefully. 'Er...and I think I kinda took the front door off again...'
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Buffy sat upon the floor with her eyes closed, the knees pulled up before her and with her back against the cool, plain surface of the wall. The corridor was dark and no light struck her closed lids, allowing her to sit in utter blackness, just breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
God, she was a fool.
Out.
What was she thinking? Because that was really the problem. She was not. Why else would she allow that tiniest flicker of hope to live inside?
Breathe.
One would think she had been through enough, that he had put her through enough, to keep her from trusting in the hope ever again. Then why did she still miss him so much? Why did she still feel sick when she thought of him and he was not there?
And why, God why, could she not tell him when he was?
She was a fool, and proof was the fact that she was still in love with Angel. She still wanted to touch him, to be with him, to hear him say her name. To see him.
'Stop it!' she hissed, slamming her palms against her forehead, and was not too surprised when it did not help. From below, a cosy, muffled humming of activity travelled through the floorboards, and Buffy slowly opened her eyes. The corridor was still dark and empty. Where it curved around a corner a couple of metres from her, faint light from the stairway a further dozen or so metres down spilled across the floor and struck the opposite wall. For a moment Buffy stared at the passive, peach-coloured hues as they were swallowed by the shadows trying to reach her. The light could not reach her; the layers of shadow and darkness ran too deep to be passed.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. Sighing, she pushed herself onto her feet and stood for a moment feeling the soft carpet's gentle touch against her bare feet. She had to go. Angel would be gone in a matter of hours. She would not let him go without a proper farewell.
She turned around the corner and ran straight into some tall person's chest.
'Angel.'
He stood with his back to the faint light and most of his face was shrouded in shadow, making it hard for her to read his expression. He looked down and swallowed.
'We're leaving in an hour,' he said quietly. 'For L.A.'
She looked at his bowed head. 'I didn't think you meant McDonalds.' The moment the words left her, Buffy desperately wanted to kick something. Why did she always do that? Say things that hurt him to cover the fact that she was breaking apart inside. That she was hurting so much she could not think clearly.
He did not look at her, and she felt her eyes beginning to burn. 'I'm so screwed up, Angel.'
Now he did meet her glance, and his dark eyes bored into hers, asking without speaking.
Buffy felt empty inside. 'I can't even say 'don't go' anymore.'
For a moment that felt like years, Angel stood there as though he was afraid of how she would react. But when his arms slowly drew her into a hug, she closed her eyes and willingly allowed her body to fall against his. She did not know for how long they stood like that. Angel just allowed her to stand, his arms around her, and from time to time she felt him let out a shaking breath.
'Angel?' Her whisper was so low she doubted that even he would hear it. Yet he did, his eyes meeting hers as she ran a caressingly hand down the side of his face. 'You look older.'
'You look sadder,' he just replied, and something gave a painful jolt in her chest.
From his eyes, her fingers trailed his cheekbone, drawing the line between the faint light that brushed over his pale skin and the deeper shadows that rested by his cheek, until they reached his lips and paused. He narrowed his eyes in doubt.
Perhaps this was the wrong thing to do, but right now she could not have cared less. Buffy shifted her hand so it rested by his jaw, and tilting her head, her lips brushed against his, the touch light and uncertain. A tremble went through him and he responded, one of his hands travelling to the side of her face to brush against her cheek, his mouth seizing hers, carefully and passionately. Buffy closed her eyes and allowed everything but her and Angel to disappear, to be swallowed by all the evil that meant nothing right now. The world meant nothing. There was only her and Angel.
He broke it off and she remembered she had to breathe. It was strange how she always seemed to forget trivial details like that because of him. She felt Angel's face brush against her hair, his voice a ruffled, husky mumble. 'God, Buffy, you feel...'
Burning warmth and an icing numbness was fighting for possession of her body. A tear ran down her cheek and Buffy closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his chest. 'You have to leave?' She did not know why she asked; she knew what the answer would be anyway.
'Yes.' It came short and sharp, as though he did not have enough air to speak.
Buffy fell silent at this, knowing he had no choice. Her thoughts were chasing themselves in ever smaller circles of grey and white, making her dizzy. The words left her mouth before she had finished debating the thought in her muddled mind. 'Angel? Can I come with you?'
Angel pulled away at this, studying her face with a confused look in his dark eyes. 'I thought...'
Buffy cocked her head, attempting a smile. She felt pretty confident that she failed miserably. 'I'm not the only slayer anymore, so it's hardly the twenty-four seven gig it used to be. Good thing 'cause it got a bit of a drag in the end, too.'
Blinking, he took a short step backward, looking completely wrong-footed. 'You would – you could do that?'
'Sure. Warm weather, alcohol and fast cars –' she frowned at her own words '- all...of...which...I can get here – but never mind. What's not to like?'
Angel stepped up to her again, a coy smirk playing upon his face. 'And a fortieth-floor, centrally heated office?'
Buffy recognised her own words and rolled her eyes. 'Am I ever going to live that one down?'
Angel tilted his head, and gave a small, playful shrug. 'Nope.'
'Kiss me,' she said and smiled at him. Angel's face split into the first, real smile she had seen since he arrived in Rome.
'Happy to oblige,' he managed huskily before their lips met again.
In Buffy's stomach the butterflies resumed their energetic jig, and she felt Angel's hands around her arms as he pulled her closer. She snuggled closer to him, suddenly desperate to feel his body against her own, and Angel's hand found the ribbon that forced her hair back in a pony tail and pulled it off. Buffy felt her back connect with the smooth surface of the corridor's wall, which was a bit surprising since she had not even realised that she had moved. The kiss was deepening, becoming hungrier, and Buffy just had time to register that she was frantically unbuttoning Angel's shirt, when he darted backwards, slamming forcefully against the adjacent wall, which came quicker than he had anticipated.
'We can't,' he mumbled, hurried breaths stumbling over themselves in rapid succession.
Half of Buffy's mind was pondering just how her blouse suddenly had manoeuvred itself off her left arm. The other was slowly realizing what Angel was saying. 'What?'
'Willow,' he managed. 'You can't leave her, not now.'
Not after what happened.
Angel closed his eyes and Buffy could see the mental war that waged inside his mind. 'They need you.'
The butterflies were quickly giving way to the freezing numbness. 'More than you?'
The question hurt him, she knew it would, and he looked down, biting his lower lip, the light from behind him blazing fleetingly in his dark eyes, as he laid his head back to stare into the ceiling, his manner an image of defeat.
'No,' he finally said, and the answer surprised her. 'But your place is with them.'
Something inside her wanted to scream at him, cry, yell, hit, for telling her what she had to do, what she could not do. What she could not have.
Yet, somewhere deep within her mind a little voice of reason whispered in her ear and Buffy realized that she could not argue with what he was saying.
'So,' she tried, fighting the choking sensation that was rising in her throat making her unable to breathe properly for not to mention speaking. 'Can I come and visit sometime?'
He was crying now, too, she could hear it in his breathing. 'Buffy...' he pleaded desolately, though she was not too certain for what. Angel did not move as she closed the distance between them, her eyes never releasing his. The breaths were catching in her throat, reducing her breathing to near inaudible sobs, but she did not care. She stepped close enough for her to lean her forehead carefully against his muscular chest, and grabbing his arms she drew them around her waist in an embrace. Angel did not pull away.
Slowly, Buffy began to realize the growing noise of voices rising from below.
'You...you have to go,' she murmured, not wanting to let him go.
'I know.'
Angel placed a careful kiss upon her shoulder and Buffy raised her head, her eyes catching his before their lips meeting again. The kiss was lighter this time, slower. Now, they were calling her as well.
'We ought to -'
'No...' Angel leaned his forehead against the top of her head and remained standing like that for a long while. 'I love you,' he whispered finally. His arms loosened as Buffy's head jerked upward to catch his eyes. Suddenly she could breathe again, although it only lasted for a moment before something else, a different feeling, rose in her throat.
'I love you,' she echoed sincerely, her voice refusing to rise above a whisper. He closed his eyes and a trembling breath escaped him.
'I have to go,' he said, though he sounded anything but insistent. When she said nothing, he turned and started down the corridor, and he had almost reached the top of the stairs before Buffy found her voice.
'Tell Wes I'm sorry,' she said quietly.
He paused and turning around, he tilted his head in confusion. 'You're not coming down?'
'If you thought I would, you wouldn't have sought me out an hour before you were due to leave,' she just replied.
The light spilled across his face, the shadows changing as his eyes narrowed. 'Yes, I would,' he said, and for a moment he just stood there looking at her. 'What about Spike?'
Buffy felt the shadow of a smile cross her face. 'He'll prefer it this way too. Trust me.'
Outside, a car engine went on with a roar.
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'Everything sorted and loaded and ready for takeoff, Captain Forehead.'
The bleached blonde vampire seemed in good cheer and had used the occasion to stuff a cigarette between his teeth again. Angel stepped awkwardly into the street, only too aware of Giles' hard glare. He walked up to Wesley who was busy readjusting equipment and bags on the back seat, when Willow's hand upon his arm made him pause.
Angel stared into her large eyes, wondering whether she intended to land a punch across his face. Yet, she did not look as though that was her objective.
'I'm sorry, Willow.'
She just nodded and drew him into a hug. Pulling free, she adjusted her sweater self-consciously. 'It's okay, really. I-I mean, it wasn't your fault so don't feel so bad. And I can do magic again, like really big stuff and I didn't lose control...' She trailed off and lowered her eyes. 'But then, you saw...so I'll just shut up now.' Recognising her former trademark shyness, Angel hugged her again and slowly her shoulders relaxed.
'Goodbye,' she murmured and stepped away from him. 'So...Buffy's not coming down – to-to say bye?'
Angel lowered his glance, feeling Spike's and Giles' eyes burn holes in his forehead. To his utter bewilderment, it was Xander who came to his rescue.
'Sorry, about the whole betrayal-thing.' He smiled awkwardly, clapping his hands together repeatedly as his eyes darted everywhere but Angel's face. Angel got the sincere impression it was either Buffy or Willow who had put him up to it.
'It's cool,' he answered.
The young man nodded. 'Good. But I would probably do the same thing again.'
Angel shrugged. 'Figured.'
Giles merely gave a formal nod of his head, and Angel turned towards their vehicle, sensing the approach of dawn in the fresh air. Willow shook hands with Wesley.
'You're good enough, you know.' She flashed him that broad smile that had used to be so common, and Wesley's lips carved upwards in return
'Thanks,' he said, but Angel knew that he was aware that Willow's gratitude ran deeper than words. She turned to Spike as the two former Watchers shook hands approvingly, and Angel disappeared into the car.
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From the house, the airport was no more than a short hour's drive away. Wesley sat at the wheel with Spike comfortably slumped in the passenger's seat, though the Watcher by some supernatural force had succeeded in preventing the vampire from smoking. Instead, the younger demon was passing time by playing with the vehicle's radio, occasionally coming across something that made Wesley groan and say something, which as a rule had no effect whatsoever.
A familiar tune rolled off the stereo and as if by reflex, Spike's voice immediately joined in.
''I get around round round get around...''
Angel sat in the back, silent. He had not looked at the house as they took off and the building disappeared around a corner. He did not participate in the two others' hectic karaoke, which was rapidly spiralling into a frenzied battle of the voices, but was too busy with brooding to even notice what they were actually singing.
''My buddies and me are getting real well known
Yeah, the bad guys know us and leave us alone.''
His mind was elsewhere, his thoughts lingering with a blonde slayer who had not forgotten him.
Who had not lost faith in him.
Whom he still loved so much, he hurt inside.
'Are you still my Angel?'
The light had caught the path left behind by her tears, and her eyes had been uncertain as they had bored into his, searching, pleading.
Years ago, lifetimes ago, he had asked her similarly and he had smiled as he remembered her reply.
'Always.' And with that he had turned and walked away and she had not spoken again.
''None of the guys go steady cause it wouldn't be right
To leave their best girl home now on Saturday night.
I get around.''
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Charles Gunn sat upon the edge of the desk in the office of the law firm's CEO, watching as Angel paced the width of his office, his steps slow and arduous, whilst he ruffled through the large stack of papers in his hand. Wesley was sitting relaxed and comfortable on the couch, albeit with a slightly exhausted expression upon his face. Angel had noticed the reprehensive glare the former watcher had shot him upon stepping into the law firm's polished entrance hall, reminding Angel that he knew what had happened. People had been scurrying to and fro, the entire place buzzing with hectic activity, and Angel found nothing to indicate the fact that he had been gone for the better part of two weeks. Nothing, but a larger pile of papers upon his desk.
'So, it all worked out, huh?'
Angel did not look up but left it for Wesley to answer Gunn.
'Eventually.'
Gunn sounded relieved. 'Good, 'cos I had a right ball supervising our Italian division and making sure the whole deal was covered up nice and neatly.'
The couch squealed in high-pitched protest as Wesley laboriously pushed himself to his feet. 'Is – Fred still here?'
A moment of pointed silence went by before Gunn answered. 'Left an hour or so ago. Probably won't mind a bust in, though, if you're the one doing the bustin'.'
Angel stared out of the windows and not at the others, as Wesley's footsteps sounded behind him, before they paused at the door. 'I will see you two at work tomorrow.'
'Bet on it,' Gunn answered, his voice followed by the sharp snap as the doors slammed shut.
'So,' the black man began. 'All back to normal now?'
Angel frowned at this. The sun was setting and the last glow of its dying fire crept across the endless ocean of rooftops that extended as far as he could see, bathing them in the same orange gleam that engulfed the evening sky. He had not seen a sunset in two weeks, had not seen sunlight in weeks, and yet he did not see it now. His mind wandered and he saw her face in the setting sun and her voice echoed in his soul.
'I wanted to be with you again, when sometime in the future we'd both worked out how this world works and seen all the aspects of vampire and demon slayage that are really worth seeing. The suburbia-placed slayer-vampire couple; kinda cute, huh?'
'Can I come with you?'
She raises her head and the golden gleam falls across her beautiful face, burning in her hazel eyes and the shining path the tears have carved down the cheek. 'I love you.' Something gives a painful jolt in his chest and for a short moment he could have sworn he feels his heart beat. He wants to hold her and never ever let go again. Never leave her again.
'No,' Angel muttered, feeling a strange lightness to his soul. Gunn flashed a confused look at him. Everything was not the same, because he was not alone anymore. The Shanshu did not matter anymore, because he had Buffy, his only saving grace, the only path to redemption he had ever truly believed in. The only person he had ever loved, the only person who could make him believe even when he had lost all faith.
And somehow things would work out.
'No,' he repeated staring once more out at the setting sun and feeling a slow smile creep across his face. 'Everything's different.'
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'Close your eyes, give me your hand
Do you feel my heart beating, do you understand?
Do you feel the same, am I only dreaming?
Is this burning an eternal flame?
I believe it's meant to be
I watch you when you are sleeping, you belong with me
Do you feel the same, am I only dreaming
Or is this burning an eternal flame?
Say my name, sun shines through the rain
A whole life so lonely, and then you come and ease the pain
I don't want to lose this feeling'
- 'Eternal Flame' by Bangles
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Author's thanks: to all those who reviewed! Nimwen, Wesfan1234 (wrap up here. Hope you liked it :-) Thanks so much for your support, you have been absolutely magical!!), kargrif (Thanks so much! I love new reviewers :-), stephanierb (thanks so much for your continuing support! I hope I have answered your questions :-), AngelicDreams, legolasgal, Omar Mahmood (I would love to do a season 6, I have just been afraid that there were so many of them already that nobody would read...well, I promise I'll give it a shot for your sake! Thanks so much for the support!), UberWicca (thanks so much! I would actually love to do another part, turn it into a trilogy...I was just afraid I was going to bore someone to death :-), shahid (thanks so much for your review and for your continuing support of this story!), a2zmom ( I thought about the whole witch-Willow thing, but since we know she has had problem with controlling it before, I think she and Wesley agreed it would be better if he took the tougher deal. Considering the death of Kennedy, which might wind her up a bit :-) Thanks so much for your review, and your brilliant comments throughout this story!).
A/N: the song at end of chapter is 'I get Around' by the Beach Boys and I really don't own that either, if you wondered...
Epilogue coming up.