CHAPTER 18: A MILLION REASONS TO HATE YOU
Buffy played with the straw from her soda in the hospital's cafeteria. She tried to keep her thoughts off of Dawn, Giles, and Angel, and focus her concentration on the straw.
She thought about what the cops had questioned her about. Of course she had lied about everything. She had given them a false composite of the so-called assailant – she couldn't let them know it was Angel. She had to protect him. She would always do that, no matter how much he hurt her. She loved him... and for better and worse, that would never change.
It would be easier if she didn't. She almost wished that she could just hate him for the things he-his demon had done, but she couldn't. At the same second that soul re-entered his body, she loved him with all her heart again, even though she felt as if she shouldn't. He had killed so many, including several people that she loved. Should there really be any going back from there?
Her conflicted thoughts made her head hurt, and she realized that no matter what she tried to keep herself occupied with, it always trailed back to him. What was he doing right now? What was Xander doing right now? He had been gone for almost two hours now.
"Buffy?" Cordelia asked, looking at her from across the table. When she didn't get an answer she called out to Buffy again while waving a hand across her face.
Buffy shook her head and looked up at her. "Cordelia," she said, realizing that she hadn't even noticed when Cordelia sat down right opposite her. Anya sat a few chairs away. "I was just…" she shrugged, hoping that Cordelia wouldn't nag on her for being a little off.
"Maybe you should go home and get some sleep," she suggested, almost looking worried. This certainly wasn't the Cordelia Chase from two years ago, Buffy thought.
"No... No, I can't do that. I have to stay here and watch Giles," she replied, shaking her head a few times, quickly stopping when the headache grew stronger. Her body was tired. She was banged up from the fight with Angelus, and she was mentally exhausted, but she knew she couldn't relax enough to sleep now. "I don't want to leave him, what if something happens when I'm gone," she said silently.
"Well you're down here with us right now. What if something happens to him while you're with us?" Cordelia argued hoping that Buffy would realize that she couldn't be everywhere at once, but that statement seemed to do more bad than good.
"You're right," she said, furrowing her brow. "I better go back up there." She stood up, ready to hurry back upstairs. Gunn and Wesley approached.
"Whoa, Blondie. You have got to learn to stop pushing yourself," Gunn said. "You have been sitting up there for hours, you needed a break. You've been away from him for ten minutes. Nothing's gonna happen to him, he'll be fine. Don't worry. What good is it to get another person out of commission? Sit. Eat. Rest," he ordered gently as he pulled out Buffy's chair for her again.
"You know, he's quite right Buffy. We can't have you getting sick," Wesley replied softly.
"Yes. You should at least drink your soda instead of just playing with it. No one feels better if you walk around dehydrated," Anya cut in, caring in her own way.
Buffy just glared at them all. How old did they think she was? A few hours ago they were willingly handing her the responsibility to bring down Angelus completely on her own. Suddenly she couldn't even decide when she should eat and sleep, where she should sit?
Of course, deep down she knew they were just concerned and caring for her. She should be appreciative. Here was Anya, not known as the most tactful person, and three people that weren't her closest friends – Gunn, who she barely knew, Wesley, who she had never treated very well when he was her watcher, and Cordelia, who she never had gotten along that well with. And still, they cared about her.
"At least eat something," Cordelia suggested pushing Buffy's tray back in front of her. She stared at it. It just held a simple eggplant sandwich, still wrapped in plastic. She should be able to eat it. She could even feel hunger clawing at her from within – she hadn't eaten in many hours now, but still, she didn't feel like it.
Before Cordelia had time to say anything else, they were interrupted by Xander and Angel who walked through the doors and came towards the table. Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn and Anya looked at them as they approached.
Anya mostly looked at Xander. Cordelia and Wesley didn't look quiet straightly at Angel. It was hard, and things would be awkward for a while… they knew that. Gunn was the only one that actually looked tense and a little suspicious in Angel's company. It was difficult for him of course, this was the first time he met a newly re-ensouled Angel. He was still in his typical Angelus attire, and even though everyone with healthy eyes should see the difference between Angelus and this guilt ridden persona instantly, Gunn wasn't completely at ease with the situation. Well, he wasn't alone about that. Angel looked like he would be more comfortable in a tub filled with holy water.
Buffy didn't even have to turn around to see who it was. She could feel him there. So Xander had went to get him? Why? She looked up at him. Xander looked deeply into her eyes, his silent gaze telling her that he was sorry all the harsh words he had spoken during the last week. She wasn't sure if she should be angry because he was using Angel as some sort of peace offering… but she realized that she didn't have the strength and energy to be mad him for that. She nodded simply, answering him without any uttered words.
Angel stood at the end of the table and kept his gaze down at the floor.
"You guys can…" Angel started but was quickly cut off by Cordelia.
"Say no more. We'll leave you two alone." Cordelia said as she stood. This prompted the others to stand too. They all slowly walked off.
"Yeah, I want to check on Willow anyway. See if there's any change," Xander said as he took Anya's hand and walked out of the cafeteria.
As Wesley walked by he patted Angel's shoulder. "Good luck." Angel nodded slightly, appreciating the gesture.
Buffy and Angel were now alone at the table. Buffy didn't look at him. Instead she opted to stare at her straw again.
The straw in the bottle reminded her of her relationship with Angel. As long as she kept him at a distance, refusing to let him get to her, or as long as she kept the straw out of the bottle, everything was fine. The soda was safe, as was her heart. But as soon as that straw entered the bottle, it cut through the still liquid, making the carbonic acid react and causing commotion in the bottle. Making it vulnerable, as whoever held the straw could drain it quickly and smoothly. Still, what the straw really was doing was turning it to life, giving it purpose – because what was a bottle that no one drank from? Useless. Boring. Bottled liquid that in time would evaporate, or get old and thrown out.
"Buffy? I know you're mad at me. And… you have every right to be. But I-I need you to talk to me."
He cupped her chin in his hand. She flinched under his touch but didn't pull away. This wasn't him, this was Angel. But that hand… that hand had held down her mother when she was murdered. It had snapped Tara's neck and beaten Riley to death… She looked deep into his eyes. His soulful eyes. She had lost herself looking into those eyes so many times before. He pulled out a chair and sat down, somewhat carefully.
"I don't think I can talk to you right now." She replied painfully not pulling her gaze from his.
"Why?" He swallowed. Not the most tactful question, but what else was he supposed to say?
"Because right now, I don't know whether I love you or hate you," she replied in a toneless voice.
Angel sighed deeply. That was all he needed to know. "Then I'll leave you." He made a move to get up, but didn't have time to before she talked again.
"I didn't say I wanted you to go," she said in a loud whisper. Angel looked at her, trying to meet her gaze. There was so much suffering in her face, and it was his fault. He had dogged her, tormented her, killed her family and a few of her friends. Of course she was worn and tired. So she wanted him around, but she didn't want to talk to him? He wasn't sure Buffy really knew what she wanted.
"You're going to have to choose, you know," he said.
"Choose what?" She looked up.
"Whether you want me around for a while or want me out of your life right now. Just say the words… and I'll go."
She shook her head slowly, warily reached over the table and put her hands over his. It had hit her hard, harder than she had realized. She had never had any problems to make the distinction between Angel and Angelus, and she didn't now either… but it was hard. It was hard not to see flashes of the past few days when she looked at him. Flashes of him cutting Giles' throat… holding her sister…the look on his face when he cut the cord to Dawn's respirator… all that hate and evil. Where did all that go when he got his soul back? It had puzzled her last time, and it did now as well.
Then again, she thought, if she was having unpleasant mind flashes, what was he having? How did it feel for him to look at her, remembering perfectly every single detail of tormenting her and enjoying it? She wasn't the only one in pain, she knew that much. Angel had never been the happy-go-lucky type… but judging by the look on his face now, he was really suffering, not sure what to do to make things better.
"I don't want you to go," she said. I never did, she added in thought, but she didn't say it. Surely Angel too had thought of what would have happened if he had stayed in Sunnydale instead of moved to L.A. – she knew she had. At least things couldn't have been worse, could they?
"Then I'll stay. For a little while." They looked at each other in silence, both of them knowing that "a little while" meant just that. He would stay… maybe until things had started going back to normal. Well, that could take months… maybe just for a few days. But he wouldn't stay forever; she knew that, no matter what she wanted. She could tell him about her feelings, that she still loved him, but what would that change? They couldn't be together. Stirring up old feelings… would be bad, for both of them.
They sat there in silence for a long while, just looking at each other, neither of them knowing what to say. They didn't want to talk about everything that had happened, it was way too soon, but it was just that which stopped them from talking about anything else. Meaningless chats about little things just didn't feel right when Willow and Giles were fighting for their lives… when Angelus havoc had just destroyed so many lives.
"How is Willow?" Angel asked finally, breaking the silence. He didn't know much of what had happened to her, just that she was in pretty bad shape and still unconscious. And that she had been hurt bringing his soul back…
"I-I don't know," Buffy admitted. "I mean, I know what happened, but not how… or why… She's not awake yet, and the doctors don't know what to do. They don't understand what's happened to her." Angel shook his head.
"Neither do I." He looked away. "And… what about Giles?"
"They've given him transfusions and tried to repair the damages," Buffy recalled the doctor's words. She swallowed. "But it doesn't look good." She looked at the watch above the door in the cafeteria. "It's been almost forty minutes since I checked on him…" Angel nodded.
"Then we'll go do that."
As soon as Xander had gone with Angel to the cafeteria and explained to the others in as few words as possible why he had dragged him there, he had gone back to Willow's room. The doctors had been reluctant to let him in – it wasn't exactly visiting hours, and they thought she needed to be alone and rest. Xander had assured them that he just wanted to sit by her side. How could that affect her badly, after all she wasn't even awake?
Before he went back to be at Willow's side, Cordelia and Wesley had told him about Dawn and Giles. That was a little too much for his mind to come to terms with right now.
Buffy's little sister, the happy and willful girl that had a crush on him, was dead. Giles was possibly on his deathbed, his throat gashed and damaged. Angelus certainly had gone out with a bang. Xander felt bad for having yelled at Buffy before. Not only had she just lost her mother and Riley and lived through another horror of murderous ex, she had been forced to watch her sister go into shock and die in front of her eyes. He couldn't imagine what she felt right now.
Xander gently picked up Willow's right hand, the one that didn't have a tub attached to it, which the left one did. He wasn't sure what it was. Maybe some sort of medicine, or just a drip. The doctors had done everything they could for her, given her supplements and a blood transfusion, they had examined her thoroughly in search for inner bleedings and otherwise, but they had found no obvious cause for her condition.
Of course they hadn't, Xander thought. Willow wasn't sick, and she hadn't been in an accident. She'd had her live force drained by an ancient gypsy spell. Maybe not the first thing they taught the doctors to treat at medical school. He squeezed her hand lightly.
"Oh Will… it's a mess. Dawn is dead. Giles is really bad. Guess the plan didn't work so smoothly after all. But Angel's back, so Buffy's gonna be alright. It did something good. But why? Why did you cure him when you knew the price?" Xander bit his lip, holding back emotions he was unwilling to let out.
"You see, I'm not really asking here. You simply have to wake up. The gang's kinda spread thin right now, not many of us left. Guess the LA gang is going back to the big city soon, and Buffy's gonna be a wreck for a while. You can't leave us."
Xander fell silent. Did she even hear him, or was she too far gone? He looked at his watch. It would be sunrise in a few hours.
Was that a twitch? He was sure he saw a twitch. He stared intensively at her face, trying to figure out if he really saw something or if it was just his tired eyes playing tricks on him. After a minute or so he was pretty much convinced that it was just imagination.
Then he saw it again.
"Willow?" he squeezed her hand again as if trying to pull her back. "Will, can you hear me?" He felt a light squeeze.
"Xander?"
Willow's face twitched a little and she squeezed his hand.
"I'm here Will." Willow swallowed, trying to get enough saliva in her dry mouth to be able to utter a few words.
"Xander… is that you?" She mumbled, almost incomprehensively without opening her eyes.
"It's me… Just hang on; I'll go get a doctor."
Angel stood outside Giles' room, staring in at him lying in his bed, and Buffy, who sat next to him. Giles was hooked up to several machines and had a large bandage around the wound on his neck. He was still unconscious. The damages had been severe, and they didn't know how well it would heal. If it would heal. At least he was breathing on his own.
Angel swallowed. He did that. He'd killed Buffy's mother, her sister, her boyfriend, Willow's girlfriend and several other people that had just been food or amusement. And still Buffy cared about him. He was pretty sure she even loved him even if she hadn't said it out loud. She probably wanted to save them both the pain of digging into old emotions. After all they both knew that it could never be.
Was he really doing either of them a favor by sticking around? Sooner or later he would have to leave her and try to go back to his own life again. The pain would be great no matter if he did it now or in a little while… Buffy had other things to take care of, other than worrying about him. Her sister's burial and all the work surrounding it… helping her damaged friends back to their lives. Getting back to her life herself, a life without family and boyfriend.
"You." Angel barely had time to register who came at him from the side before he was shoved into the wall hard. With an instinctive grown he looked up.
"Spike?" He got to his feat. "What are you…?"
Spike lunged at him, hitting him squarely across the face. The second time he swung at him Angel caught his fist, shoving him backwards.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"You killed her, bloody bastard." Spike was seething with anger.
Angel glared at him. Killed who? Oh, of course… Dawn. Spike had a soft spot for Buffy's little sister. Maybe it was just a simple excuse for getting to hit him, but frankly, Spike looked genuinely pissed off. Just as he was about to take another swing at his re-ensouled grandsire, Buffy came out of the room. She had heard the commotion outside.
"Spike, what are you doing?" Buffy said with an edge of annoyance when she saw that Angel was bleeding from Spike's attack.
"What, you're gonna protect him now?" Spike spat. "The right bastard killed your sis. If no one else is willing to execute a little physical punishment for that, sign me up as a volunteer."
"It wasn't him," Buffy said, trying to be patient. Spike was actually angry at Angel for what happened to Dawn. It was fascinating in its own way.
"Yeah, right," Spike scoffed. "So what are we up to now? Blasting home now that the damage is done, or is the beefcake's prone to hang around until we get another appearance of the big swingy, swaggerin' around, barkin' evil schemes…"
"That's enough Spike," Buffy said, shaking her head. "Why don't you do what you do best, go outside and wait for the sunlight like a good creep." Spike shrugged.
"Whatever. Remember what I said." With a final evil glare at Angel, Spike turned and stalked off. Buffy sighed and turned back to Angel.
"Are you hurt?" He shook his head.
"I'm fine."
"Spike can be a real ass sometimes," Buffy muttered. Angel shrugged.
"So how is he?" he nodded in the direction of Giles' room.
"The same. Stable, I guess, but still not awake. But all the machines are beeping and blipping like they're supposed to."
"If I could do anything for him, you know I would."
"I know."
"What are we going to do now?"
"I thought we could go see if there's any change with Willow," Buffy suggested. Angel nodded slightly, and they began walking down the hall.
"He can be right sometimes too, you know," Angel said after a while, fumbling, regretting his words as soon as he had uttered them.
"Who?" Buffy looked at him.
"Spike." Buffy stopped abruptly.
"What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously. Angel didn't meet her demanding gaze.
"I just mean… maybe he has a point." Now there was something he never thought he would say about Spike.
Buffy felt her face flush in anger and frustration. What was he talking about?
"A point… in what?"
"Maybe I should just go home right now." Buffy just stared at him, so he continued.
"Really, Buffy. What good will come out of it if I stayed?"
"Yeah, that's great," Buffy said silently, turning away from him, surprising even herself with how disappointed she sounded. "Be Mr. Killing Spree and then skulk away into the shadows."
"I'm not… I don't… I just mean, if I leave now, at least I won't hurt you anymore. I wouldn't be staying long anyway. We're done, we agreed that… that we have to be over a year ago."
Buffy stared into the wall. "Yeah. I'm sure you're right. So go." She turned to face him. "I have grieving friends to look after, my sister's funeral to arrange and attend." She swept passed him and went back to stand outside Giles' door. With a small sigh Angel followed her.
"Buffy…Sure I could stay for a while, if that's what you really want… but I don't see how that will do any good to either of us. You know I can't stay."
Why? She wanted to ask him, but she didn't. She knew why, there were a number of reasons. God, probably about a thousand of them. She didn't even know why she had expected or thought even for a second that maybe he would hang around for a little longer than a few days. It was foolish or her.
"What about this new curse of yours?" she asked. "I have no idea how it works. You should stay close, in case…"
"New curse?" He frowned. Now there was something Xander hadn't told him.
"Yeah, didn't you know? That's why Willow is hurt, because it was some dangerous spell. The usual curse didn't work, didn't you know that?" He nodded. "I don't know how this one works," Buffy continued. "I mean, these things don't come with a guarantee, right?"
"Then that's just another reason why I shouldn't stay," Angel said, trying to adjust to the notion that what had brought his soul for the third time wasn't the same curse as the first two times. What did that mean? "If it doesn't hold up, I can't be anywhere near you."
"Oh, I think you've already demonstrated that if you loose your soul, it doesn't matter where you are. You'd come running anyway," Buffy said bitterly. Angel looked down. What was he supposed to answer to that? She was right.
"But my people have a better chance of controlling it, if it happens," he argued. "I don't want to put you through it again."
"Fine. Do whatever you want. I'm going to see Willow now," she said in an discouraged voice as she darted away without looking at him again. Angel remained standing there, gazing after her as she disappeared alone down the hallway.
"Well. I handled that brilliantly," he muttered to himself before he began walking after her at a considerably slower pace.
