Angel felt like he was losing the battle to not shove all of these goddamn people as far away from him as he could manage, unhook whatever tubes and lines they had running in and out of him at the moment, and rush his way into the bathroom hanging off to the right side of him, jump into the shower to try and wash that fucking bitch off of him, to scrub and scratch at himself until he was bloody and raw.
Truthfully, he doubted with all that he had that it would help a damn thing even if he did. It didn't take the urge to do it away knowing that either.
So, instead, he sat there at the edge of the damn hospital bed in a daze. He sat there through the endless questions the hospital staff members asked him, the ones the two police offices had as well, as his blood and urine and what felt like an endless string of other tests were being handled, as a full sexual assault forensic exam was underway.
He sat there as a young woman came in and tried to go over his insurance information before she was quickly but quietly shooed right back out of the room by one of the nurses. He sat as a priest and a number of people from the mental health division of the hospital tried to check in with him.
He was pretty sure he had thrown up on at least three of these people by now.
Angel did his best to answer all of their questions, to remain calm and collected when he was anything but, he tried to remember his own damn self what had even happened. His mind had cleared a little but he was still foggy and he easily got frustrated as he grasped at straws and came up with nothing more often than not.
He barely remembered anything after Buffy even left the house with her friends right now, and it only got more confusing from there... it was all in bits and pieces... Then he had fallen asleep there on the couch... Angel felt bile rise up in his throat once more as he pictured what must have happened next and tried to shake it all right back out of his mind.
He knew he would have to talk about this time and time again but right now... he needed the break. He needed to not imagine what happened, to remember the small flashes that he could... And then... then there was Buffy... and how he was laying there hearing a voice that sounded muffled but sounded like Darla and it must have shaken something inside of him to wake up a little... and how was Buffy... how was she across the room when...
Angel started to shake and started gasping for air again. One of the nurses rushed over and placed a hand cautiously on his knee. "You're okay," he was told.
Angel shook his head, he was anything but okay.
OoOoO
His phone in his hand, Angel's fingers floated over Buffy's name on the screen and began to instantly tremble. "Sh-she walked in on you fucking Darla," he whispered out loud to himself. His mind rushed with a back and forth battle of to call her or to not, to beg her to listen, to say he was sorry a million times over... also telling himself that it wouldn't matter, nothing ever would after this... his lips had been on hers, his fucking dick inside of her... and that was all Buffy would ever see when she looked at him was one thing that kept repeating over and over inside his head. "There's no coming back from this," he whispered.
His thumb moved away from Buffy's name and found Lindsey instead, quickly pressing the button to call him and praying with all he had that he'd answer his fucking phone.
A few moments later, Angel felt his only sense of relief when Lindsey's voice came on the other end, making some joke that Angel really didn't have the ability to follow right now. "I need you to come here," he barely whispered.
"What's wrong?" Lindsey immediately asked. "Did something else happen to Buffy? Is the baby okay?"
Angel knew he couldn't do this over the phone, he couldn't try and explain what happened like this, his throat already wanting to close up on him. "I-it's not about her, Lindsey. Please don't call her...don't bother Buffy... please... Just... please come to Sunnydale...to the hospital. I-I'm at the hospital."
"What the hell is going on? You're in the hospital? Why?"
"Lindsey, please," he begged, just barely keeping it together. "Just call me when you land tomorrow."
He hung up the phone letting it drop on the hard bed beside him. Utterly defeated, he tried his best to tone out the chatter of the many nurses, and doctors. Answering only when he was asked a direct question, he was pretty sure he heard one of the detectives say something about having caught Darla on their ring doorbell sneaking into the house.
He didn't remember much, but he'd had enough sense about him to make sure that she hadn't made an escape after he'd called 911. Shoving her across the room, she landed against the corner of the entryway, grabbing her by the arms he picked her up and tossed her onto the chair in the corner of the room. Adjusting his shorts he tossed what he presumed were her clothes at her as he picked up the phone to call the cops. The rest of it was still pretty blurry, but he did remember hearing Darla's cries as they put her under arrest.
At least he could take some solace in that.
OoOoO
She was numb, completely, totally and utterly numb as she sat in Willow and Tara's living room. Willow had let her borrow a change of clothes since she had gotten vomit on her shirt in her haste to make it back to the car. She barely even remembered the car ride, or dropping Cordy off. Her mind running nothing but a steady loop of images, the way his hands had gripped her waist, the sound of his mouth meeting hers, the sight of him thrusting deeply inside of her, the sound of their moans echoing off the walls around them.
The three of them sat silently on the sofa, even Willow, one of Angel's biggest defenders couldn't come up with anything to say. Tara had simply wrapped her arms around her once they had got out of the car, whispering how sorry she was.
Sorry.
What did that word even mean anymore. Her mind was so muddled, as hard as she tried to come up with an explanation, she just couldn't seem to put the pieces together. Checking her phone for probably the hundredth time, she sighed not even knowing how she should feel that he hadn't so much as attempted to call.
She wasn't even sure how much time had passed, how long she had stared blankly at the little black dot on Willows wall. Gently rubbing a hand down her stomach, she tried to calm her acrobatic daughter, who seemed to be extra active due to all of the stress. She was it, that little girl growing inside of her was the only thing that kept her from killing that bitch. She was the only thing keeping her from going back to that house right now and burning that mother fucker to the ground.
Memories be damned.
"You know you can have the bed Buffy, it's really not a big deal," Tara told her sweetly as she dug out a couple extra pillows from one of the closets.
"This is fine," she replied, shaking her head ever so slightly. "I don't think I'd get much sleep either way."
The two lovers shared a worried glance between them, "Buffy, you should really try to-," Willow began but stopped speaking when Buffy's hand shot up in the air, a silent plea for her to just stop.
"I think I just need to be alone for a little while," she whispered flatly, her voice void of all emotion.
Nodding her head in understanding, Willow softly patted her knee before standing from the couch. Taking the pillows from Tara, she sat them next to her, along with one of the quilts she'd got out. Grabbing the remote she tried to hand that to Buffy as well, but her friend had simply shook her head.
There was no television show that would distract her from this.
OoOoO
Lindsey wasn't sure what the hell was going on but he knew it had to be bad just from the way Angel had sounded on the phone. His mind raced as he contemplated the endless list of possibilities, constantly circling back to worst case scenario, he just prayed that baby was okay. Angel had said he was at the hospital, and asked him not to bother Buffy, that could only mean one thing…
Swallowing the bile in the back of his throat he looked out the window of the plane in an effort to distract himself. He'd tried calling Angel back this morning before he boarded, but there wasn't an answer. Normally he would have just continued to call until the mother fucker answered but being that he didn't exactly know what they were dealing with, he hadn't wanted to intrude.
Looking at his watch, it seemed as though this was the longest flight of his life, feeling like it had been hours since they took off when in reality they'd just barely reached a cruising altitude. Thankfully he'd been able to catch one of the first flights out, but once he landed he still had the drive to Sunnydale to worry about. Not to mention, the time it would take to shuttle over to the car rental place. He only hoped he could get a hold of Angel once he was back on the ground, at this point he wasn't even sure where he should go first, the hospital or their house.
OoOoO
Having checked himself out of the hospital, much to the doctors distress, he'd had to call a cab to get home since he'd been transferred to the hospital by squad car earlier before the cops got everyone's story sorted out. He'd barely made it through the front door before he simply collapsed, his legs falling out from under him, he landed with a thud as he leaned back against the door.
As he watched the sun creep over the horizon he suddenly remembered Lindsey, checking his voicemail, he listened as his friend simply said he'd be landing at ten. Hanging up he opened his contacts once more, his thumb hovering over Buffy's name for the countless time tonight. He just needed to know that she was okay, he was sure that she'd went to Willow's, but still his mind raced with worry. Alternating between thoughts of what she saw, to nightmarish images of her going into labor, swallowing his fear he touched her name, placing the phone next to his ear, he waited with a bated breath as it continued to ring.
He'd been just about to hang up when he heard the saddest sniffle from the other end of the line. "Hello," she croaked, her voice barely audible as though she had been crying all night.
All the air rushed from his lungs, it felt just like when Lindsey use to gut check him. Clearing his throat, he tried his best to compose himself, not wanting to add anymore stress to her than she was already carrying. "I'm so fucking sorry, Beautiful."
Sorry, there was that word again. That stupid meaningless word, everyone was always sorry. How was such a tiny word able to make her so furious? How was it supposed to help? She regretted not checking the name or number on her screen when she reached over to grab her phone, doubting she would have answered had she realized it was in fact him. "You're sorry?" she barely managed to choke out. "For which part Angel? Because I'm utterly fucking confused on how I could come home to find-"
"I know," he breathed out in a rush, unsure where to even begin or how much she would even listen to. "Buffy, I don't even know what all exactly happened."
She barked out an unamused laugh. "I have some ideas," she spat out.
Angel felt like he was going to throw up again. "Buffy," he quietly begged. "You know that I would never-"
"But you did!"
He closed his eyes and pulled his legs up closer to his body. He started to try and explain about what he knew, about what he'd done after she had left with her friends, wanting to explain about the drugs found in his system and everything else that had been put together so far but she barely let him get to any of it. He could hear the anger, the tears in her voice as she again cut him off and told him that she just couldn't do this right now.
Then, there was just silence as she hung up. He felt a panic inside of him raging on, telling him to call her back, to keep calling and leaving messages, doing whatever he could to get the words out, to get out his side of what had happened, to explain that he hadn't done a damn thing with Darla on his own accord, but he just couldn't seem to follow through with it. He let his phone lower into his lap and just stared at it for the longest time, defeated.
OoOoO
Lindsey didn't know what in the hell he was walking into, he'd talked to Angel briefly and had been told he was back at the house now but not much beyond that. Not bothering to knock, Lindsey turned the doorknob and opened the door to find his best friend completely disheveled, standing there as if in a daze as he stared at the couch in the living room.
"Angel?" Lindsey breathed out when he hadn't even acknowledged his presence.
"I need this out of the house," Angel told him, his voice making a chill rush right through his entire body.
Lindsey's forehead crinkled up in confusion. "The couch?" he asked. "Angel, what's going on? Where's Buffy?"
Somehow, Angel began to look more lost. "I need this out of the house," Angel repeated.
Lindsey let out a heavy breath, staring around the house. "One second, okay?" he asked before hurrying to go through the house for any sign of Buffy or maybe a clue as to what in the fucking hell must have happened but he came up with absolutely nothing. Back downstairs, he came to stand a short distance from Angel... who'd yet to move an inch. "Okay... um... we get this out of the house and then will you sit down and talk to me about what's going on?"
Angel's head barely nodded, then his finger pointed to one of the chairs. "That too."
"Okay," he agreed. "We can get that out of here, too."
OoOoO
After starting with the smaller of the two jobs, the couch landed on the grass just before the sidewalk, about a foot away from the trashcan and that was when Angel completely lost his shit. Lindsey just stood back and let it ride out at first, the rage, the tears that overtook the large man, the wild look on his face.
When Angel went back inside, Lindsey followed. Angel sat down on the bottom step of the stairs in a careless heap while Lindsey went to grab him a cold bottle of water from the fridge. When he came back, Angel was shaking so bad he was afraid the house might start cracking around him.
"Angel, where's Buffy?" he asked as calmly as he could manage.
"I don't know... probably Willow's."
"Isn't she supposed to be on bed rest? Is she okay?" Angel laughed hysterically, shaking his head. "Did something happen to Buffy? Is the baby okay? What's going on?"
His laughter grew more manic as he tried to speak. "She isn't okay, she's not going to be okay. No one is."
"Did something happen with the baby?"
"No. Not that I know of."
"What happened, Angel?"
He laughed again. "She... she went to a movie, the doctor cleared it, she was excited to go... it was supposed to just be a fun evening for her, Linds. She left and I... I got cleaned up, I took a shower... and I came downstairs... and before I knew it I was barely able to stay awake... I laid down on the couch and..." he opened and closed his mouth a few times as the words wouldn't come. Lindsey stayed quiet, letting him figure it out.
"Buffy came home and... and I was fucking Darla."
Lindsey's eyes shot wider than he thought possible. He sputtered out noises that didn't even come close to words.
Angel tried to explain about how they'd found a mixture of drugs in his drink, how he had been disoriented and still could only remember flashes of what happened before the shock of realizing the body on top of him wasn't Buffy's. He explained how confused he was over Darla having looked like Buffy if you just glanced at her, the hair, how her eyes were green, how she smelled exactly like Buffy with all the lengths she'd taken to pull this fucking shit out. He struggled trying to get through what it was like to barely make the sight of Buffy actually standing right there in the doorway like he had when he first got here and the look on her face.
Angel started mumbling on about the police and the hospital but Lindsey was reeling from this whole fucking thing.
"Angel, Buffy knows you wouldn't do something like this. With Darla no fucking less." It came out more as a question given how fucked up he was.
"Obviously not," he whispered.
Lindsey felt rage boil up inside of him so fast it could've made his head spin. He wanted to rush out of here and storm over to Willow's but that would have to wait. He knew he needed to be here right now, get Angel a little more together before leaving him alone.
OoOoO
Lindsey talked with Angel for awhile and tried his best to keep his own emotions in check and reassure him that everything was going to get figured out. "Come on," he said gently. "You smell like hospital and look like shit."
Angel had gotten a fresh pair of clothes from the hospital but once they were off, he put them in a small Walmart bag from under the sink and asked Lindsey to get rid of them before starting up the shower to as hot as he could take it and trying to finally get all that remained of Darla Pratt from his body. Scrubbing everywhere within his reach, he was positive that certain areas were sure to be raw, but he didn't care. The only thing he could think about was ridding every molecule of her DNA from his body. His hands braced on the shower wall as he let the water continue to run over him until the temperature had cooled so much that he trembled from the cold.
Drying off, he tied the towel around his waist, physically he felt a little better, but mentally he was fucking drained. He'd never felt so empty, so hollow, as much as he tried to think of something he could do, something he could say, he just couldn't seem to force his mind to come up with a solution to this. She'd finally done it, Darla had fucking won.
Hearing his phone go off, a small spark of hope surged through him as he thought that maybe just maybe it was Buffy finally calling him back. Unfortunately it had just been one of the detectives, calling to inform him that he couldn't say anything officially yet, but he just wanted to let him know that he shouldn't have to worry about Darla Pratt for a good long while.
The detective, the first one of the Sunnydale police department that had even seemed to have a lick of sense, explained that not only did they have the video evidence from the doorbell last night, he had also gone back over the surveillance footage from when Buffy had been in the accident. He couldn't say anything on the record, but he was fairly certain once all was said and done, all the charges officially pressed, that it would be a number of years… if ever before Darla was free to join society. The detective, having seen how utterly broken Angel had been last night, thought just maybe this bit of news may bring him some small bit of comfort.
Toweling of his hair, he stared at all of the hair products and makeup Buffy had left strewn about yesterday. Yet again he couldn't believe how so much terrible shit could be confined to a single twenty-four hour time span. He was exhausted, looking in the mirror he noticed the shower had done little to help his appearance, he still looked like hell, his eyes sunken and dark. He needed sleep, he needed his wife, he just needed to fucking turn back time.
Grabbing the clothes he'd laid out, he quickly dressed before walking into his room and collapsing on his bed. Pulling her pillow over to him, he bunched it up under his arm, inhaling deeply, he tried to imagine that she was still here next to him. Knowing it was pointless but unable to stop himself, he picked up his phone and typed out a quick I'll always love you, before hitting send. Knowing there would be no reply, he powered his phone off, needing to just shut the fucking world out for a little while.
OoOoO
After waiting for nearly an hour, Lindsey ventured up the stairs to check on his friend. Thankfully he seemed to of passed out, lord knows he needed the fucking rest. Hell he was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around what had happened, and he wasn't even directly involved in the mess. He couldn't even imagine what he was going through, or Buffy for that matter. Surely she had to understand that no matter what she had walked in on or seen, Angel would never hurt her like that.
He needed to go find her, Angel had said something about her staying at Willow's, but unfortunately he wasn't exactly sure where that was. Figuring Angel would be asleep for a while, he took out his phone as he quietly made his way back down the stairs. Dialing Buffy, he wasn't surprised when she sent him straight to voicemail, too bad he didn't fucking care.
He was already in the car, having lost count how many times he re-dialed her number, he was almost shocked when he finally heard her voice on the other end of the line. "What do you want Lindsey," she spat out, her tone far from friendly.
"Well about fucking time," he spat right back, not afraid to throw her own shit right back at her.
"Usually when someone doesn't answer that means they don't feel like talking."
Rolling his eyes, he was already afraid this conversation wasn't going to end up going the way he was hoping it would. "Just give me the damn address to Willows."
"I don't want to see him right now," she argued.
God this fucking woman was as stubborn as they came, "He's not with me, he's at the house sleeping off whatever fucking drugs that psycho slipped him last night.".
There was such a long stretch of silence on the other end of the line, for a second there he thought she'd hung up, "I swear okay, he didn't send me, he doesn't even know I left. You're my friend too, I just want to check on you and the little bit."
She should have known that he was here by now, he really was Angel's best friend. Which was exactly why she knew he was full of shit, Angel may not have sent him, but there was no doubt he was coming on his behalf. Knowing she didn't have much of a choice, it was Lindsey, he would figure it out one way or another, she reluctantly gave him the address, and the access code to the gate of the complex before hanging up without another word.
OoOoO
As she expected she hadn't gotten much sleep, there were a few times that she dozed off, but she would jerk awake moments later overtaken by the panic of the images that refused to leave her mind. She'd been staring at the words Angel had sent her when Lindsey's name began flashing across her screen. Quickly ignoring the call, she nearly tossed the stupid device into the wall when he'd refused to take the hint.
She loved Lindsey, but there was no doubt in her mind that he was going to back Angel in this no matter what. Sunnydale was small, no matter where he was it wouldn't take him long to get here. Getting up, her legs trembled as she stood to unlock the door, he could let himself in… or not. Luckily Willow and Tara both had a few things that they needed to take care of, each of them had offered to push it off and stay with her, but she'd refused their request. She just wanted to be alone right now, at least this way they would be spared from whatever was about to go down with Lindsey. Sure, they were friends but over the years they'd damn sure had their rounds with one another, especially where Darla was concerned.
OoOoO
Lindsey paused for a second outside the second story apartment door, taking a deep breath he attempted to calm himself before knocking on the door. When there wasn't a response, he knocked a second, then a third time, before reaching for the damn doorknob. He'd break the fucking thing off or kick the damn door in if need be he thought just before he found it twisting easily to the side and he was able to step inside on his own accord. It didn't take long to find her and he couldn't help but notice she didn't look much better than her other half. Buffy stiffened as her eyes locked with his and Lindsey made sure to keep a good distance between the two of them as they just stared at one another.
"How's the baby?" he finally asked.
Her jaw clenched a little as soon as he spoke. "She's fine, Lindsey."
"And how's Mom?"
"Take a wild guess on that one," she spat out. "How do you think a woman might feel if she walked in on her husband going to town with a woman who he swore there was nothing going on with, a woman who ruined your first marriage, and, oh, not to mention just put her in the hospital mere weeks ago and nearly killed their child?"
"I get that you get to be angry, hurt, and confused and anything else you need to right now, but don't for a fucking second act like he would even do that to you."
"I fucking saw it first hand! So apparently he would huh?"
"You saw what the fuck she wanted you to see, Buffy! Nothing more than that!"
"I don't want to talk about it, Lindsey. I just really don't."
"And that's fine. But I'm going to say my goddamn peace either which way, and you're going to listen," he growled at her. "I think you accused this shit into existence. You saw exactly what she wanted you to the first time around too, she played everybody like a goddamn fiddle. And I let the shit slide because as much as you should have known better, she did a good job of fucking with everyone's heads back then. So I got it... kind of. I stayed out of it pretty much because he begged me to and I respected that, but you were in the fucking wrong back then, too. Don't forget that. You two eventually get back together and that's all fine and dandy... except it's not. Because even though you have all the proof in the world that nothing ever happened, you still don't really believe him. You chose not to, you still chose when it was convenient to throw it back in his face, like when you two got into that fight and he disappeared for a couple days... and you decided to act like a fucking brat. You knew none of the shit in the past happened, you knew nothing was going on at any point between the two of them, and you still fucking threw an uproar the first chance you got all this time later. The first opening you had to you started in on the shit all over again. And that was a big red ass flag. About you."
Buffy's eyes widened. He continued on, cutting her off before she had the chance to actually say anything back to him though.
"I motherfucking told you do not marry him if you were going to start this shit up again. I told you do not fuck up your life again, his life again. I told your ass to not fuck up the life of that damn baby you just motherfucking had to have! I'm pretty sure you and I had a conversation before you decided to go and get married again that no matter what, Buffy, no matter what you would believe him in case something like this or really just any issue came up between the two of you. That you would understand that there was no way he would have ever done what you once thought he had, that he never fucking would-"
"Yeah, I remember that conversation, Linds. And maybe you were just setting shit up for him to have some sort of pass-"
Lindsey growled, fighting the urge to punch a wall or something. "That fucking woman terrorized you both for how many years? She's set out to ruin your marriage twice, and has managed twice. Her brother fucking raped you! Darla, as you pointed out, tried to kill you and that baby. She tried to harm his fucking kid, Buffy! And you seriously want to be over there throwing any of this shit out? You honestly fucking think he would go anywhere damn near someone who tried to hurt that baby growing inside of you right now?"
Never in his life would he understand the hold she had over his best friend or why out of all the damn people on this planet it had to be her he got mixed up with. Not for the first time, he also wondered how in the hell he managed to put up with her hard headed bullshit.
"The simple fact of you even giving thought that he was doing any of that by choice tells me everything I personally need to know. And once he gets past the shock of what went down, I hope he sees what I do as well."
Lindsey walked over and placed the stack of papers that he'd been holding in his back pocket down on the table closest to him before walking back to the spot he'd been in this whole time.
"She ruined his life, she took away everything he'd had with you once. She's harmed you how many times, nearly made you lose your child. He wasn't going to suddenly think of her and go oh yeah, that's the ticket, gimme some of that! She broke into your house, Buffy. She drugged your husband, and there's proof of that in the mix of those papers, and then she raped him. All for the purpose of what is happening right now. He had a rape kit done at the hospital, he made a police report over what she did, her ass is sitting in jail right now... And if that wasn't enough... here you are."
Lindsey swallowed hard. "So, I had better only have to say this once. And I hate that I have to, but I swear to God, Buffy, you need to leave him the fuck alone. You two deal with whatever legal proceedings you need to about ending things, about Darla, whatever you absolutely have to but otherwise you both need to fucking realize you're just as fucking toxic as Darla. You move the fuck on with your life and let him do the same. And... and I will tell you this. If you try and pull any goddamn shit out of your ass to try and make it to where you screw him over about the baby, if you even attempt to have it to where he can't be in his daughter's life... don't for a second think I will not bury you in the fucking ground with that shit. I promise you I will go at you with absolutely everything I have and turn the whole thing around on you to make sure it's you who loses everything."
ButImBroken:
Cowritten with Scribes1015!