Chapter 3
It had been so long since he'd felt the warm rays of the Californian sun, or any for that matter, on his bare flesh, and that was what woke him. Startled Angel jumped up in bed thinking that at any second now he was about to combust. To his surprise that wasn't what happened.
"Hey, bad dream?" She sat up beside him on the bed, holding the sheets to her chest.
"Huh?" Angel whipped his head around only to come face to face with the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, that creature being Buffy.
"Buffy, I ah... how?" He didn't understand, they weren't in the institution anymore, and she wasn't the distraught girl he'd found yesterday. No, now instead they were together in a king size bed, the warm sun finding its way in through the opened window which Angel noted had a beautiful view of the ocean. But a view so much more beautiful than that seemed to have caught his attention. That view being Buffy.
There she was, golden skin, long blonde tresses falling past her shoulders, and white cotton sheets pulled up and around her bare chest.
"I was thinking wow, but maybe we're not on the same page here." Buffy smiled, scooting closer and running her fingers through his dishevelled dark hair. "And I was also thinking that I should thank you again for calling in sick today." Buffy purred before closing the distance between them and sealing his lips with a kiss.
Angel couldn't seem to get his head around what was happening. But a moment ago she was so lost and frightened, and now she was kissing him. For just one moment he decided he didn't want an explanation, all he wanted was her. So he returned her kiss, with as much passion as she showed him. Using his tongue to separate her lips, he plunged it inside her mouth, only to stifle a moan from Buffy.
He smiled against her mouth, it was just like it always was between them, she had always been so responsive to his kisses and touches. As he laid her back down on the bed, Angel tugged at the sheets covering her naked form, prying them away before blanketing her body with his own.
He figured this was a dream, why else would he have the chance to make love to the only woman in his world? And that was why he didn't stop.
But as he started to give way to the feelings sweeping over him, he was pulled away, by what he wasn't sure.
Whatever it was, it happened in the blink of an eye, and there he was, standing by the opened window, dressed in his usual heavy black clothing, and watching the image of himself make love to Buffy on the bed.
Before he could question what was going on, she appeared beside him. His love, or at least someone who wore her same beautiful face. Cautiously Angel looked her up and down, before turning slightly and taking a small step closer. "Buffy?" He asked.
A small smile graced her lips, and she returned his greeting "Angel." She said with a nod of her head.
He took it as a signal, that it was okay, and that he could come closer. "Are you a dream too?" He questioned, hoping against hope that she wasn't.
"In a way, I guess." She replied, the small smile slipping away, as she turned her attention to the bed, watching herself with Angel.
Following her gaze, Angel wondered why the sight before them seemed to upset her. "What's going on?" He asked, maybe he could get some answers to her condition, and find a way to bring her back to him.
"We're so happy here; I don't want to go back." She said, her eyes still locked with the image of the bed and the life they had here, even if it was only in a land of dreams.
Angel agreed, wherever they were they did appear to have everything they had ever wanted. But it wasn't real, if anything it served as a cruel reminder to something that would always be unattainable. "I don't understand Buffy, here everything's perfect, but when we wake up..."
"Please Angel." She turned her attention back to him, tears shimmering in her emerald eyes "Please don't wake me. Back there everything's so damn hard, and it hurts, it hurts so much." Her tears slipped out past her lashes, and gently tumbled down her cheeks.
Reaching out he cupped her cheek and smeared them away with the pad of his thumb. "How do I make it right, how can I make you better?" He almost begged.
"Don't wake me." Was the last thing Angel heard her say before his eyes snapped open, those three words still echoing in his mind as he found himself lying beside a sleeping Buffy in the institution.
And that was his breaking point.
Angel ran, ran as fast as he could, in fact he could never recall having run so fast in his life. Skidding through the institutions halls at every twist and turn until he was met with closed double glass doors. Reaching for the handle he turned it quickly and pulled it open; glad to see that the sun had set on yet another day in L.A. the city that had brought nothing but pain into his life.
Running for his car, he quickly jumped inside and fumbled with the keys until he had the right one. Frantically he shoved it in the ignition, kicking the engine over and flooring the gas pedal. Speeding off towards the bright lights of Los Angeles, Angel vowed that he would never set foot in the institution again.
Buffy, the love of his eternal life, the only woman that would ever mean anything to the vampire, was now so broken and cut of from the real world that just being near her, tore his cold dead heart into a million little pieces.
As he drove away he kept telling himself that he couldn't be put through this, after everything he'd seen over the last few years, this would be the thing to kill him, and he couldn't allow that. It was better when he didn't care, life was easier. Lonely sure, but he was used to that. He could deal with having no-one so much more than he could deal with the idea of Buffy pushing him away as she sunk deeper and deeper into the never ending pit of her own misery.
As his tears streamed down his face Angel knew that staying away from her, and shutting himself down, was the only way that he could ever deal with his own existence.
One that without the old Buffy being a part of, meant nothing at all.
As he entered the apartment, Angel made his presence known by slamming the door behind him. Then he waited, but he got no response.
Flicking on the lights, he wasn't even shocked to find that the living room floor had become the dumping ground for another day of alcohol abuse.
Kicking empty beer bottles out of his path, the vampire headed straight for his friend's room. A dry chuckle escaped his lips at the thought alone. Some friend Gunn had turned out to be.
A simple message, that's all he had been asked to do. But no, he was too busy drinking and finding the cheapest whore he could to make him feel anything akin to a warmth he hadn't felt in years.
When Angel reached the door, he didn't even need to open it to know that Gunn had passed out, his heavy breathing told the vampire that much. However the fact that he was unconscious wasn't about to stop Angel. Bursting through the door he found that Gunn had rolled off his own bed where a brunette was sound asleep, and onto the floor.
Picking his friend up by the collar, with incredible force Angel threw an intoxicated Gunn into the nearby wall. And it was only then that Gunn awoke.
"You bastard! All you had to do was pass on one message, but no you were too busy getting drunk and screwing anything that would accept what little money you have." Angel said gesturing to the brunette that was now wide awake, thanks to the commotion brought on by the angry vampire. "The girl in the institution, it's Buffy, she's really sick, and if I had of known in time, there's a very good chance that I could have spared her from becoming what she is." That was all that came out of his mouth before once again the mist of tears that had been so visible to even the drunkest of the drunk, spilled over and fell down the vampires face.
Why was it that the tears always seemed to come when they weren't welcomed? He couldn't afford to cry now, he was angry, and ready to attack, blubbering like an idiot wasn't about to help.
But the thought of Buffy being so sick, did that to him.
"Angel you got the message didn't you?" Gunn asked as he slowly and painfully rose to his feet. The room seemed to be spinning at an incredible pace. His head was pounding, and the urge to vomit was so strong. At no point did he show any kind of empathy towards the vampire. Sure it was sad that his ex was in the Looney bin, but Gunn had bigger things to worry about... like getting this whore out before she stole all his money and God knows what else. And of course getting his hands on some aspirin... aspirin would really help.
"No thanks to you." Angel bit out. "Tell me Gunn; if I hadn't of found the message scribbled down on the back of the phone book three months later at that, how much longer would you have made me wait, how much worse would she have been?" Angel snarled, and for one second he was so damn close to baring his fangs, and possibly even sinking them into Gunn's throat.
No he couldn't think like that, he was good, he had a soul. So that meant no killing humans... right?
"I'm sorry." That was it, that was his lame attempt of making it up to his friend. Enhanced hearing or not, anyone would have been able to tell that there was no sincerity in his apology, that if anything it was a little forced.
"Not good enough." the vampire hissed, before backing away and heading for the door he had only entered but minutes ago. "I want you gone, you've become worthless, and just seeing you right now makes me want to do somethi-"
"That you might regret?" Gunn finished, knowing where the vampire was going with this.
Turning to face his once friend, Angel couldn't help but speak the truth, even if this was the same friend that had fought by his side time and time again. None of it mattered, not when it came to Buffy. "That's just it; I don't think I would regret it." Angel calmly stated before making his exit, only to find some peace in his own room.
Margaret watched from the monitor in the reception as the blonde woke, and frantically went about searching her room. The nurse hoped that maybe Buffy would bring out the book she had snatched from them months ago.
Margaret was relying on the fact that the camera in the slayers room would aid the staff in seeing who it was in the photograph she kept hidden. One that they all had a feeling would be the solution to helping her get better. Maybe it was because of the fact that whenever the slayers eyes feel upon the person in it, there was a look of love so pure that it out-shadowed her pain and heartache, at least for a minute.
But no such luck.
As the hours passed, and they once again sedated the blonde, Buffy whispered something to them as the drug slowly set to work. "Angel... dead." Was the last thing she said before she was out cold.
It was then that Margaret came to realize that it wasn't something that Buffy was searching for, it was in fact someone.
That was when it finally hit her. Buffy wasn't so much dreaming of a guardian angel in the spiritual sense, she was searching and dreaming of Angel, the private investigator that had spent the previous day with her.
After waking to find him gone, Buffy seemed so much more lost than Margaret had ever seen her before. And after she'd made it through another night of bruising her already battered fists; screaming nothings that obviously were so much more than that. Margaret noticed that this time even when Buffy slept, peace never found her. Now it was so much worse, now there were nightmares in its place.
Although the sudden change in dreams would give them the chance to learn so much about the young woman, like what had happened to her, it wouldn't exactly help not only her mental condition, but her physical one as well. One that with each passing day was getting worse, to a point where the medication was failing and the only thing the Doctor's could do, was watch it slowly take her whole.
That was why Margaret couldn't help but hope that after today Angel would come back, even if he had hung up on the nurse when she had tried to reach him the moment Buffy woke. Maybe he would come to realize that this girl needed his help so much more than any of the other helpless out there, in the cold and dark city that was Los Angeles.
