Chapter 4
/ Angel. I do... sometimes think that far ahead.
Sometimes is something
Be a long time coming. Years, if ever.
I ain't getting any older. /
His memory had not failed him, or so it seemed. It was strange that he could recall their last meeting with such clarity, but it was what followed that seemed to be fading. Maybe that was because it was a moment so pure, and perfect that he had pushed it down, burying it so deep within, where it had no chance of resurfacing... until now.
Just before the sun rose over the city, the vampire lay there, thinking of her and everything he'd seen in the last day. That was when he started to remember, as slowly his mind began to unravel something he'd kept locked away for so long.
What Angel remembered was not listening to Buffy when she demanded that he return to L.A and set up that second front. Well not right away. Instead he'd trailed behind, as he drove along, following her back to her home. Then he'd led her up to her surprisingly vacant room, and told her that if this was the last night of their lives, than consequences weren't about to matter.
Little had Buffy known that before taking her upstairs, he had given Willow the heads up on his intentions, and when the Wicca had protested, telling the vampire that it was too dangerous. Angel told her that for once he didn't give a damn, and was willing to be selfish.
The red head gave in, silently agreeing. She wanted her best friend to have one night of happiness before a day where everything could be taken away. The Wicca then prepared the ingredients, so she would be ready to perform the restoration spell early morning if need be.
Behind the locked door of her bedroom, Angel worshiped her. Laying her body down on the bed. Not a single inch of her golden skin was spared from his attention. It was one night where nothing mattered to him but his love for the slayer, and it was also the last time Buffy told him that she loved him.
Then tomorrow came, and Angelus didn't stand a chance against the powerful Wicca, who had been awaiting him. Buffy had also played her part, chaining the sleeping demon to the bed as soon as she woke that morning. But the slayer had refused to stick around as Willow performed the spell, something about not being able to face Angelus again.
It took the Wicca about thirty minutes to bring Angel's soul back to his body. And only then did Buffy return to him.
Their goodbye was bittersweet, because with it, it carried something that told them that this was the end of their time together. Whether they survived this battle or not, somehow they both knew that their chances of ever crossing paths again, were slim to none. So that was another reason why that last night had been so special, it was a beautiful way for them to let go.
With a blanket over his head, he ran to the shelter of his new car. Fit with necrotempered windows, Angel sat there for a long minute holding her gaze, before she was called inside as the SIT's were ready to be given their orders.
Angel then drove back to L.A in record time, and with the second front in place, he waited... and waited.
Nothing.
He smiled. She was fine, he could still feel her.
A few hours later he got the call. The first stop they had made, Buffy had called to tell him she was ok. After that he'd received emails and postcards usually every month or so. But it would have been two months short of a year since their last meeting that everything stopped. No postcards, no emails, no answers to his question when he asked her about the Immortal.
That was when Angel gave up, even though he never wanted to admit that it really was over, or let go of the wonderful memories they had made in the years she'd been a part of his life.
Then came the news of her death, and that was when Angel himself died.
At first he refused to believe it, as the vampire kept telling himself and just about anyone that would listen that she was still alive. He searched the world for her, but every lead turned out to be a joke, as the underworld seemed to think that watching him run around on a wild goose chase was amusing.
Still he didn't give up, wouldn't. He swore over and over that she wasn't dead, as he could still feel her, and her heartache. As time went on, and a few hundred worlds later, finally Angel gave in. She was dead. The heartache he thought he'd felt, was his own. There had been nothing left for him to do but accept it and move on.
To begin with, alcohol seemed the best idea to forget, and he joined Gunn on his drinking binges. The end result was that he would only drink himself sober.
After that he tried Buffy's own remedy, of kicking ass being comfort food. Ironic that he had used something she had taught him, to forget her. But it worked. As each day passed and with each demon slain, slowly he started to forget. The only time that she would pop back into his head was if he worked a case that reminded him of her, saw a glimmer of blonde hair, or when he retired for another day, and found her in his dreams.
Dreams that he forced himself to forget the moment he was conscious.
Now years later, after finding out she was in fact alive, like he had originally thought her to be when he'd first heard of the accident. Angel was trying to do the same thing. Forget her.
But to do that it meant that he would have to let go of everything all over again. Her smile, her laugh, her eyes, her blonde hair, her loving heart, and now her broken soul. Was he wiling to do that? Could he just give up on her so easily when she needed him now more than ever?
Bringing his clenched fists up to his brow he let out an unnecessary breath. He had to do this... he had to let go once and for all. She was gone, dead. Whoever that girl in the institution was, it wasn't Buffy.
"Mommy? Killed them, mom, killed them." Buffy murmured as she tossed and turned in her small single bed. "No, bad slayer... not here. Can't stay... Must go down, hot, burn. Die."
Margaret took notes as she watched the small blonde sleep. It seemed that Buffy was having a dream about her mother, possibly even talking to her? But none of her ramblings seemed to make sense. Regardless the nurse took note of every word, maybe she'd be able to get through to Angel, and he would be able to work them out.
"Dead, mom, dead!" The slayer called out, and then she was silent once again.
Margaret had just proved herself wrong. Because whatever this was it wasn't a dream, as she noticed the silent tears seeping through Buffy's closed eyes. This was a nightmare, so much so that the nurse was tempted to wake her. To free the blonde from the hell she was in. But she didn't, because they needed to find out as much as they could to help her.
He should have known that shoes were a necessity. How else was he going to be able to cross all those burning coals? Angel stood on the edge of the precipice, and stared down at the angry flickering flames beneath. The only way he was going to be able to make it to the other side was if he walked across the scorching coals.
It was either taking the coals to heaven, or falling and drowning in hells flames. Neither looked appealing, it was basically either suicide, or sprinting across the burning bridge and possibly falling anyway.
Then there was always the fact that he wasn't sure if he truly even deserved heaven. Regardless of that fact, the vampire knew he had to attempt it at the very least.
It was just as he had begun his journey over the hot coals that he noticed her. She stood on the other side of hell, looking down, taking in what was awaiting her.
"Buffy." He yelled as each step brought him closer to her.
She looked up, she was dirty, the grime from the underworld thickly dabbed across her face. Her self inflicted gashes oozing with red blood, marring her features. Her emerald eyes held her sorrow, her tears almost spilling over. Looking away she glanced into the only afterlife she deserved. Taking the next three steps as quickly as she could, Buffy plunged to a death she had longed for, for the past two years.
"Buffy no..." Angel howled as he watched her gracefully dive into hells welcoming flames. His tears rushing forward when he saw the sparks flying, and the inferno consuming her.
It wasn't a moment of blind panic; it was a moment of pure love, where his heart told him what he had to do. As he ran, already having cleared half of the coals, Angel veered off to the left. Springing of the edge, he dove in after her.
Angel's eyes shot open.
A dream, it was just a dream. And she was there, Buffy was right there dreaming with him. How was he meant to escape her when she wouldn't let him? It was hard enough dealing with the fact that she was in the institution. It was bad enough living with the guilt of turning away and denying her the help she desperately needed. But to have her there, in his dreams, was just torture.
Peeling away the sheets that were pretty much glued to his sweat covered form; Angel threw his bare legs over the side of the bed. Leaning forward, using his elbows to brace himself on his knees, Angel sat there, his head in his hands.
He wished he could take back the past forty eight hours, and just wipe away everything he had seen. He wasn't that same person anymore; he didn't go out of his way to help the helpless. It was only when they sought him out that he gave a damn. But this was different. This was Buffy.
This was the one and only person that could pull him out and make him face the real world, with nothing but a look from her sad green eyes. It was hard, he'd just spent the entire night putting those walls back up, that a single night with her had torn down.
And now they were crumbling all over again.
Because for the first time in years, he could feel, really feel. It was love, and love was warm, a contrast to the chilling cold that had become his life. If anything he needed her just as much, if not more than she did him.
The idea of losing her again, having her die when he had only just found her, made his cold blood boil.
/ What's-
It's Buffy /
No, he couldn't do that again... thinking he'd lost her three times, was three too many. To know that she was a short drive away and needing him like he'd needed her when he had been brought back from hell all those years ago, made him realize what he had to do.
Getting up and out of his bed, Angel headed for the shower. Then he'd go back, and hopefully this time, he'd be able to work some kind of a miracle.
