Chapter 6
Lorne watched silently from his position by the now closed door. The sight before him wasn't just beautiful, it was heartbreaking. Buffy stood before Angel, her small trembling hand cupping the vampire's cheek, re-familiarizing, or just searching, he wasn't to sure.
From what Lorne could see, even at her worst, underweight (at least he gathered as much) and tired, she was perfection, easily the most beautiful woman that the demon had ever seen. But to have seen her at her best... God, no wonder Angel was crazy about her.
He was right about that too, as Angel watched Buffy, felt her hands exploring him, tears welled within his dark eyes. The way he had looked at Cordelia years ago, didn't even hold a candle to this. Lorne wasn't just going of what he could see; he was going off what he could feel. The love that burned between the pair brought about a warmth to the otherwise cold and dark institution. When they were in the same room together, without a doubt an undeniable electricity flowed through every living thing within reach.
"Demon!" Buffy suddenly roared, pushing aside the fact that for a moment she'd began to lose what was left of her former self in his eyes. Bringing her other hand up, she also pushed Angel away, sending him a few steps back until he collided with Lorne who stood not that far behind the vampire.
And she'd forgotten again. Forgotten that it was Angel, the man that loved her, was willing to do anything he could to make things right, to take her away from this place. Initially that was what Angel had figured had been the reason for the slayers outburst, but as he regained his footing and followed her line of sight, he realized his suspicions were way off.
It was Lorne, he was a demon after all, and all the slayer had to go off was appearances, there was no longer that understanding and compassion towards creatures of night that were on her side. Or at least if there was, Buffy no longer understood it. Cautiously she backed away; too afraid if anything to make her move when she didn't have a weapon for use in defence, in fact she didn't have anything but her withering fists. If he came any closer though, she would go straight for the neck, breaking it, hoping it would be enough to kill him.
Looking up towards the window it appeared as though she were considering it as an escape. But it was quite a stretch away; something that even if she were to stand up a pair of strong broad shoulders, access to the outside world would still be unattainable. Maybe that was for the best. After all, that world had already hurt her so much.
Her mind was muddled, those voices had returned, they were all speaking to her again, telling her what to do, who to kill, and how. But she had no idea who's voice it was that she was meant to listen to.
"Buffy." A new voice spoke up. It was faint, like a distant train gliding across steel tracks, approaching a town filled with people, traffic, and fire.
Fire was all she could remember, death was all that surrounded her, death and demons.
"Buffy, it's Angel." Her head snapped up, her miserable eyes looking into deep molten pools of chocolate.
"Angel." A gentle whisper escaped her lips, his name was familiar, she knew Angel. Reaching out again, her slim fingers sought out his face. "Cold." She said for the second time that night.
"Yes." He returned, his own shaky hand slowly coming up and taking hers within his grasp. The vampire was afraid that she would push him away again, and it was something he really didn't want her to do.
"No, no, no! Angel... gone, dead." She sobbed, tearing her hand away. He'd been there... somewhere, she wasn't exactly sure... but they were happy, then he'd walked away, and taken everything she'd held dear with him.
Stepping back, as she raised her hands to her face, she began pounding her clenched fists against her brow. "Dead, dead, dead, DEAD!" She repeated, continuously hitting herself, harder and harder. It was almost as though she were trying to convince herself more so than anyone else.
"Buffy... I'm right here, I'm not dead." He offered as he cautiously took a few steps closer, catching her at the last second as she fell back onto the bed. Looking up at his demon friend, Angel voiced exactly what he was thinking.
Lorne quickly and quietly caught on and made his exit, leaving the vampire and slayer alone together. A least for a little while.
Lorne spent most of the night outside, sitting on the cold and hard concrete steps that led up to the entrance of the institution. What he had just witnessed was without a doubt the saddest thing he'd ever seen.
Angel torn.
Not once, had he ever felt so much pain and longing, so much heartache and desperation radiating off the vampire. After everything that the green demon had watched his friend endure, this had to be the worst.
This was the sort of thing that he had put behind him, that was why after pulling the trigger and watching Lindsey slump to the floor, the dark blood seeping through his shirt, Lorne had taken off, destination unknown.
It had been that way for months; he'd been searching the world for himself, only to find that that person could never again be found. He'd come to that realization in a dingy little bar in New York, after he'd downed a deadly amount of sea breezes and whatever other alcohol had been set before him. That night he'd realized that taking a life, although the victim had been evil, had taken a piece of him.
That one piece had been very significant, it had after all been his own happiness, and now anything akin to joy he was robbed of, as his guilt would never let him go on as though nothing had ever happened.
He didn't sing anymore, didn't do much of anything but sit in his tiny little basement apartment and read fortunes by day, the only thing he could think of to make what little amount of money he needed to get by.
And so now, being back here stirred up memories, dangerous memories, ones that could push him back to the dark place he'd been five years ago, when he'd pulled out that gun, and…
Quickly shaking the thought away, Lorne knew then that the moment he read Buffy, and gave Angel his answers, he would go back, and beg the world to leave him alone as it had for the past five years.
For long and painful hours the slayer pushed the vampire away, clawing and screaming at him whenever he was close. Did she know that but a day ago Angel had walked away, leaving her to suffer all on her own?
That was the only conclusion that Angel had drawn, she was just so mad, so upset, heartbroken, saying that he was gone, dead, and then just screaming at him in frustration for the countless things she couldn't interpret.
But nothing seemed to hurt as much as what she did to him next. "Go!" Buffy screamed, her open hand coming up to slap him across the side of the face, as her fingernails dug in, scratching him in the process. Instantly the blood rushed to the surface, as the three fine lines of his dark crimson blood appeared, contrasting with his alabaster skin.
It had hurt too. Physically without a doubt, after all she was the strongest woman in the world. But it was his soul that cried out in pain, wishing that for one moment she wouldn't just push him away. Right now, more than ever before Angel wanted to hold her in his arms, to smooth a kiss against her brow, and reassure her that he would make everything in her world better.
But that was just a fantasy, something that the vampire had to let go of, as it was going to take so much more than appearing out of nowhere to make her trust him again. He was without a doubt in for one long night.
Hours after he'd left her room, Lorne returned when Angel had come looking for him. It seemed that Buffy was right in the middle of some dream, and sobbing to herself.
After taking a seat in the far corner of the room, he watched as Angel eased himself down beside her, and twenty long minutes later, they were both fast asleep.
All the doors and windows were wide open, and the cold night air whisked through the house, blowing the sheer white curtains back and forth as Angel approached it.
From what he could remember from their last shared dream, this was where they lived; this was the foundation for the only happiness Buffy now knew.
"No..." suddenly a strangled cry tore through the otherwise quiet night. It had come from inside the large beach side home. In a heartbeat Angel tore through the house, searching for her.
"Buffy." Angel yelled, frantically darting in and out of each dark room, trying to find his love.
Every room offered him nothing, but open space that stank of misery. No Buffy, no heartbeat. There wasn't a single light on in the house, and it was cold, so very cold.
Calling her name out over and over, Angel began to panic, he couldn't find her anywhere. It wasn't until he entered the only room that had previously escaped his attention that he saw her.
There she was, blood dripping from her recently slit wrists as the rest of her body had slumped under the freezing bath water.
"BUFFY!" Angel screamed as he came to his knees beside the tub, and reached inside pulling her lifeless form out. Pushing aside the hair that had matted against her pale face, he started to shake her. "What have you done? Buffy, what have you... Oh God." He cried, clinging to her, hoping that this wasn't happening. Although some part of him knew this was just some horrid nightmare, when it came to Buffy, her dreams had always held such great meaning, that and the fact that it all felt too real.
All he could do was hold her, even though there was nothing left, she had completely slipped away. No heartbeat, no warmth, nothing but a shell.
"You're back." A whisper came from behind him, and he looked up just in time to see the light above him begin to flicker on and off repeatedly. Turning slightly he saw who it was that had addressed him.
His love.
But if that was her, than who was he holding? No one, or so it seemed as he looked back down to where a lifeless Buffy had been but seconds ago. She'd disappeared, nothing but the stain of her blood had remained across the edges of the tub, and his grey shirt.
"You have to leave." Buffy said, looking down at him.
Angel turned again to face her, rising to his feet; he took a few cautious steps towards her, before he finally broke. "Buffy." He said as he chocked back a sob. Reaching out he gently grabbed a hold of her wrists, turning them around only to see she was in fact bleeding. "Why?" Angel whispered, unable to believe that she would ever harm herself like this.
She couldn't look at him, not now. And so Buffy's eyes fell upon the floor as she pulled her hands away. Her wounds dripping, her life slowly being drained away. "Please just go." She almost begged, unable to let him watch her die.
"No." Angel stepped in, not letting her go on, he would never leave her again, never. "Everything's going to be okay, I just need to understand." He pled with her.
Buffy brought her head back up to look at him, he couldn't be serious, he couldn't really think that everything would be okay. There was no way that she would ever get over what she'd seen, what she'd done. "It will never be okay Angel, there's nothing left for you to understand. You should have stayed away. Please, just let me die alone." Buffy pled; there was nothing left for her here, not anymore. No family, no friends, and no escape into dreams she would give anything to spend forever in. More than ever she welcomed death, but she didn't want Angel around to witness it.
Angel thought over her words for a second, trying to think of a way to make her see that he was going to make her life worth living again. But the fact that she didn't want him around, that she wished he'd never returned, hurt him more than he'd expected it to. But that was what she was trying to do, hurt him only to push him away, so that she couldn't be saved.
"I'll never leave you Buffy, I can't. I love you too much." He whispered, reaching out for her again and this time successfully pulling her into his arms.
"No, no... please, just let me die. I want to die." She sobbed, her head buried in his chest as he gently soothed her by stroking her golden hair.
"I'm here Buffy. I'm here, I'm here, I'm here..." Angel repeated over and over, not stopping even when she begged that he did. Instead Angel kept saying the two words that even though Buffy didn't realize it at the time; she had been in need of hearing.
All he could offer her was his undivided attention, his shoulder, and himself. It seemed like he'd been holding her for hours, as she cried. But when she had quieted down and all that could be heard was Angel's voice telling his beloved that he would never leave, a sudden change occurred. Life was suddenly breathed back into the house. It was no longer cold and empty, and the distraught slayer was no longer in his arms.
Turning in search of her, his eyes fell upon the bath, and he noted that it was crystal clean, not a drop of blood anywhere. Checking his shirt, he also noted that even that had reverted back to its plain grey color.
Slowly and carefully making his way out of the bathroom he wandered through the house, following the soft melody of an Angel's voice to the kitchen. Coming to a stand still, he froze at the sight of her, as she stood there preparing dinner.
"Hey." She smiled, as she looked up at her husband, while tossing the salad. Stepping away from the food for a brief moment, she wandered on over to him, and reached up on tip toes as she gave him a kiss. "How was work?" She asked but was immediately silenced as Angel placed a finger upon her lips.
As much as he wanted to give into the moment, and play out the wonderful dream with her, he had to do what he was there to do originally. "Keep singing, I just want to watch you." Angel smiled, and then gestured for her to get back to what she was doing.
Blushing slightly, Buffy gave in, thinking that this was just Angel having one of those moments where he wanted to see her doing the normal everyday things she used to always dream of doing, like prepare dinner for them. So Buffy returned to her task, and as she did the blonde also continued to sing along to the song playing on the radio.
Angel just watched, not just glad that his friend would get a chance to read her, but he was completely mesmerized, everything about her made him fall deeper and deeper in love.
The vampire woke from his dream content, a smile gracing his lips. It was true that the dream hadn't started of in the best way possible, but in the end he'd saved her, well he'd at least returned her to that same peace that she only ever found in her unconscious state. For the first time in years he felt like he had a purpose, and for the first time since finding Buffy, he felt like he had a really good chance of saving her.
Carefully sitting up on the bed, Angel rose trying not to wake the slayer as he did. The vampire wanted nothing more than to let her have her peace for as long as possible.
Running a hand through his disheveled hair, for a moment he'd forgotten that anyone else was in the room, until he saw Lorne, sitting there, his head hanging low, as he looked on at the vampire. The look on his friends face said it all, and whatever happiness he'd felt for that brief moment was replaced with fear.
"Lorne?" He asked, not sure he wanted to know what it was that the demon had read from Buffy. "It worked didn't it?" He wasn't sure why he had asked the question, the vampire knew it had worked. He was almost a hundred percent sure that when she had been singing in her dreams, that she'd also been doing it out loud in her sleep.
With a nod the green demon answered yes. "It worked." He faintly replied.
Angel was relieved to hear that, not that he hadn't been certain of it already. But as he now watched his friend an indescribable fear settled within the pit of his stomach. "Well, what did you see?" He asked, panicking slightly.
Lorne rose to his feet, and slowly made his way over to the door. "I can't do this Angel... this world isn't for me anymore. It's too depressing, and I'm not strong enough for it." Turning to Buffy he sighed as he watched her sleep, she just looked so peaceful when lost in her dreams. "I can see how much you love her; in fact I've never seen anything like it before. I could tell you it's hopeless, that she's too lost for you to ever be able to get her back, but I know you won't listen. I know you'll try regardless of that fact."
Angel knew all this, he knew his own feelings and he didn't need to be reminded of that, if anything it was frustrating. All he wanted to know was where to start when it came to helping her. And no matter what Lorne had seen in her, there was no way that it could all be hopeless, that was a possibility that Angel couldn't even accept.
As much as he hated hearing all this, to be fair, it was obviously something Lorne had to get off his chest, and after dragging him all the way to Los Angeles, for a personal favor, he could at the very least give him an answer. "I'll never stop trying." He whispered.
Lorne thought as much, and so he gave Angel the only answer he needed. "Find that photo." He said before walking out and closing the door behind himself.
