The Scooby gang was at a standstill.
They had spent the whole day researching.
Looking at the hospital records, the cemetery, a few of Angel's known favorite hangouts.
Other than what Xander and Oz told them about the fight, and what they found in the hospital room the night before, no other signs of Angel could be found.
No friends, enemies or acquaintances had seen him, none of their local informants had heard about anything, there was nothing in the police logs or the slayer patrol reports; he was just…gone.
Everyone in the room was sadly but seriously considering the dust pile they found to be to the final whereabouts of their vampric friend.
"No" Buffy said as she ran her hands through her tussled blond locks, "We have to be missing something, someone, somewhere knows something."
"I'll try a tracking spell." Willow announced, grabbing the ingredients out of her bag and accepting Angel's ring from Buffy to use as the catalyst.
It took a few minutes to set up the spell, but once it was in motion Buffy ended her restless pacing to watch the map of LA. The little white circle appeared as it should, hovering in mid-air before it would point to the location of the missing.
The circle began to move, as if sniffing along the map for the trail.
Willow frowned as the ball of light spun before winking out, "That's odd."
"What? Do you know where he is?" Buffy asked, not having seen a location.
Shaking her head, Willow looked confused, "It didn't work, the spell flopped."
The slayer blinked at her friend, "What does that mean?"
"I don't know, but I'll try another one." The Wicca said as she collected the ingredients for a slightly different tracking spell.
Buffy was getting for nervous as she watched the second spell, her gut dropping as that one too failed to complete.
"Okay, this is weird." Willow expressed, trying to figure out what was wrong with her magic.
"Try tracking someone else, so see if it's a problem with Angel or your magic." Dawn suggested, trying to help troubleshoot.
"Here, use Dad's watch, Liam 'borrowed' it when we last had dinner with dad." Buffy opened a drawer in the coffee table and pulled out a man's watch.
Willow took the item and reset the spell, but was even more confused when the white light succeeded in tracking the owner, hovering over the area on the map where Hank Summer's lived. "Huh, maybe it's the ring?" She questioned, unsure why it only failed for Angel.
"Try this." Buffy handed Willow Angel's torn and bloody shirt, from the hospital bag.
After three more attempts with different spells that all failed, Willow gave up. "I don't understand, it's like he can't be tracked."
Xander asked the question that no one else wanted to voice, "What happens if you try to track someone who doesn't exist?"
Willow's silence was enough for them all to understand the answer, the spell would flop, as all those directed at Angel had.
Buffy broke the silence, "It doesn't prove anything, we keep trying."
...
Angel was led into an underground chamber, about ten additional vamps lingered in the shadows watching him as he passed into the main room.
It was dark, but the low light didn't bother him, his keen eyes picked up on talismans decorating the low stone walls, and what looked like spells written on the walls.
An enchanting chamber, different from the usual dungeon motif most vampires favored.
A lone figure sat on a carved stone throne, a figured he known a long time ago.
Angel's memories were intact until about the last decade or so, the past was very vivid to him right now. It was the very recent past he couldn't remember, like why he was alive...and why his heart hurt.
The demon on the throne called himself Deimos, a name representing 'dread' in Greek mythology. He'd been a nobody in the past, Angelus only remembered him at all because he was sired by an enchanting Vampiress named Phobos, meaning 'fear' or 'terror' also in Greek mythology.
Angel never understood the need for villains to adopt the names of ancient gods or creatures, but to each his own he figured.
In typical Angelus fashion, he had seduced Phobos only for a cheap thrill and to dually piss off Deimos and Darla. Angelus had been fighting with his sire and he knew she had been jealous of the beautiful vampire. He had figured two birds with one fling. After he had his fun, the girl ended up dusted, he never really thought about it since. 'Guess Deimos still isn't over his old girlfriend.'
Angel stood before him now, a cocky smile on his lips, "Deimos, how good it is to see you. How's unlife been treating you?" 'Well I called it in the sewer, trap...promise you won't be harmed...Ha! what a crock of shit'
Deimos narrowed his eyes, "It was great, until I met you. You killed my Phobos, you murdered my sire. I have waited a long time for revenge Angelus. And it will be sweet to watch you die in agony for what you took from me."
Angel rolled his eyes, 'Obsess much?' "It's been over 200 years Deimos, here's a thought, get over it!"
Deimos fumed. "How dare you! I'm not some weak newbie anymore Angelus! I have power you couldn't imagine! Prepare yourself for a taste of the agony you've cause me!" He signaled to some of his men and they charged at the dark haired living vampire.
Angel sighed, 'Seriously? Do guys like this get together and rehearse lines?'
Six of the lackeys attacked him, displaying a lack of the power-bullshit their leader had been spewing as he was making short work of them.
Deimos got even angrier as his men were being dusted beneath Angel's fists, using a handy stake he'd pried from one of his slayed.
'Ok thirteen from the tunnel, ten in this chamber, plus Mr. Boo Hoo, that's twenty four, minus those last six. Eighteen remaining…yeah, no problem, my odds are great... Angel scowled, 'Maybe I should have fought back in the tunnel...'
Deimos in his rage had a sporadically good idea, "To the cage!" he yelled to all his lackeys at once, signaling the group to change tactics and capture the prisoner instead.
'Crap' Angel thought as the fight erupted in earnest. He knew he was completely surrounded; these guys weren't top of the line but in large numbers even pushovers could be lethal. 'I guess it doesn't really matter. Maybe death is what I deserve. What do I have to live for anyways?'
Instead, he fought, and he fought hard. He wasn't sure why, but it just felt right. However he knew he was going to lose. There were just too many. He felt his body slowing down with each new wound, his ribs were cracked, he had felt a stake rip into his left shoulder at one point, he ducked a club swing, but it connected the second time.
Angel was about to play a risky card, but a club hit him in just the right spot, and darkness flooded his vision.
When his eyes next opened, he found himself chained to the cold stone floor in a cornered off section of the crypt. Deimos stood at the bars, a mocking grin of his fanged lips, "I do hope you like your accommodations Angelus, I've decided to keep you a while. As you were once so fond of saying, 'You'll be begging for death by the time I'm done."
With a sinking feeling, Angel let out a breath and laid his head back down against the cold rocky floor, preparing for a torturous last few days in existence. 'He'll try, but that son of a bitch won't hear me scream.'
...
The day came and went, and still nothing was found on Angel.
Willow tried the spells again, but to the same result.
It had been several days now, and all their research, patrols and searches were indicating the same thing.
Xander stepped forward, the only one willing to say the words they were all thinking. "Buffy, you pulled his ring from the ashes. No one wants to believe it either, but look at the facts here. The tracking spells all failed, we have proof Angel was in that room but there's no evidence he left the hospital...face it, he's not coming home this time, he's not coming back because he's dust."
Buffy shook her head in denial and pushed him roughly away from her. "Shut up Xander!"
Deep down, she knew what he said made sense; it tore her to pieces to think it. The moment Willow tried the first locator spell, and the little white light failed to find him... 'If he was alive, the spell would have worked...we would have found a lead to follow, or he would have come home by now.' Fighting back tears, she held herself as her control began to weaken. 'Stupid pregnancy hormones.'
A second later Dawn was hugging her tight and rubbing her hand down her back in soothing circles, and the elder sister lost her carefully maintained composure.
...
Pain.
Hunger.
Thirst.
Repeat.
That's what the following 24 hours were for Angel.
His wrists were bound; chained to the floor, or to the wall, or from a hook hanging from the ceiling.
It depended on which torment he was receiving, to maximize his misery.
For the most part, he endured.
But the waiting was worst.
When would they come back, and what would they use?
Whip? Beatings? The club?
At least the holy water and crosses weren't a big deal anymore.
Fighting his bonds only left his wrists chaffed and bloody.
At he hung is the darkness, he wished it would end.
He was tired of pain.
It was all he knew, yet, he felt like the physical pain was only a small part of his agony.
'Why, why do I feel this ache in my chest? Why wont it go away?'
He sighed, they were returning, he could smell the leather of the whip.
'Great, maybe it will distract me from the pain...'
...
The next following afternoon, the search for Angel had been officially called off.
Buffy couldn't bring herself to say anything to the kids yet, but she could tell they knew something was wrong.
Dawn had been doing an excellent job keeping them distracted for the last few days, but she couldn't keep it up forever.
'Tomorrow, I'll tell them tomorrow. I'll break it to them slowly; give them time to let it sink in.' Buffy knew she had been delaying for the sole reason that once they knew, it would make it real for her too.
She sat on the couch, legs pulled up against her, as close as the baby bump would allow, and she cried. She was so furious with herself, all she did was cry lately. 'What happened to the strong as steel Slayer I used to be? What happened to the emotionally controlled woman?'
She knew what happened, that girl married her love, had children with him, grew to depend on him, and then he went and died on her leaving her alone with two children and one on the way.
For a single second, she cursed Angel's name, for doing this to her, for making her weak.
As soon as she did she chased the anger away, she couldn't hate him, not for what he had given her. She loved her children, more than anything, even more than him. That wasn't a crime, she knew those kids were the most important things in his life too. It was the price you paid for parenthood, unconditional and absolute love.
Her head hurt, but her heart hurt worse.
At some point, they would have to hold a small service for him, a wake/funeral.
She desperately wished she could see his body, to really know he was gone.
Even now, he didn't truly feel gone, but where could he be?
If he'd just been missing, it wouldn't have been so bad, but he couldn't be found...not even with magic. The tracking spell would have found him, but that would only fail if he wasn't alive to be found.
She thought after everything he'd been though, he deserved to have his physical body laid to rest properly. The dust pile from the hospital had been vacuumed up by the janitor that first night. The idea that Angel's only remains were in a hospital dumpster made her physically sick.
Over and over, she replayed the last time she saw him in her mind. He had kissed her cheek, told her to have fun with the girls, he said not to worry, and he would be back soon.
She'd had fun, hadn't worried, but soon never came, he didn't come back.
Now it seemed it was time to face the facts...he never would.
Angel lost track of time as the days passed, his body was weakening from thirst and hunger, but he refused to give in.
The pain was terrible, but torture was only so much physical agony. He'd lived long enough with the mental version that the actual physical discomfort wasn't so bad anymore.
Not to mention he was getting his kicks pissing off his tormentors by not screaming and asking for more.
Deimos at last became aware the beatings weren't having the intended effect of his prisoner and had the naked dark haired vampire brought before him.
Angel felt like falling down, his whole body ached and his strength was next to nothing, but there was some deep burning fire in his soul that somehow kept him on his feet.
He stood there before the blond vampire, not actually listening to the long and boring speech about how he'd ruined the other man's future and blah, blah, blah about staking Phobos.
"Oh just kill me already." Angel snapped, "It'll be more merciful that listen to you drone on about something that happened two centuries ago. I mean seriously, you only spent what, a decade with your precious sire? What's ten years in the 200 you've been existed without her?"
Vampire by design were already dead, and didn't have much in the way of blood flow. Despite that fact, Deimos's face went beet red in anger.
"How dare you!" The master vampire snapped as he violently backhanded the dark hair living demon, causing Angel to fall backwards a few steps.
Blood welled in his mouth, and from that last and final straw, his demon awoke in a blinding rage. Angel lost himself as the instant to survive kicked in, growling as he leapt back onto the throne pedestal and gripped Deimos tightly around the neck. Before the love crazed vampire could react Angel snapped his neck, and ripped his head clean off.
As their leader dusted the remaining vampires and demons slowed to a halt, eyes transfixed on the raging living demon before them, unsure what to do without direction.
Roland cried out as he attacked, hoping to become the new leader in his former master's absence by avenging his death.
Almost like a well rehearsed dance, Angel spun sideways kicked his foot out, catching the attacking vamp in the shin and knocking him off balance. As he fell, Angel wrapped his claws around his neck and gave a hard tug as he twisted, separating the skull from the spine and causing the vampire to crumble to dust.
Angel just barely caged the animalistic part of him and stepped forward, hiding the pain he felt and yelled out threateningly to the other demons surrounding him. "So whose head do I rip off next?"
The vamps exchanged looks, their Master was dead and so wasn't his second in command, both dead within a minute. Angelus was not as weak and washed up as they'd expected... so they scattered.
Once he was alone in the chamber, Angel collapsed heavily onto the throne, 'Holy shit, I can't believe that actually worked.'
He sat for what he intended to be a few minutes, to regain his breath and to let his heartbeat level off, but the weariness overtook him and he drifted off to a restless sleep as his body demanded rest.
Today was the day.
Buffy couldn't believe it, but it had been five whole days since she pulled her husband's ring from the ashes.
Five whole days of not sleeping at night without her Angel blanket.
Five whole days of hell.
The gang had looked, researched and spelled all over LA to find him, and even all the slayers at Angel Investigations combined hadn't been able to come up with any evidence that Angel was actually alive.
Tonight, they would make it official.
Angel would be declared dead, and they would all get together to say goodbye.
They would have a larger mass the following day, but tonight would be a private service for immediate family and friends.
Buffy had spent the majority of the morning and afternoon in a fog.
Her body moving, talking, eating...all on autopilot.
Inside, she was still searching for her missing love, trying desperately to fool herself into thinking this was all wrong, that somehow they messed something up and that Angel needed to be rescued from somewhere.
Except all evidence still pointed to Angel no longer being alive to save.
With her left hand tightly gripping his ring, she looked though a shoebox of photos, a mix of happy and sad tears burning her eyes as she scanned her lover's smiling face. There was a snapshot of their first Christmas, one she took of Angel holding a newborn Katie, Angel playing with the kids in the yard, one of him building a snowman when they were still in Ohio, and sketches, so many drawings created by her husband's hand and a charcoal pencil... so many happy memories.
'And now I'll never get the chance to make more with him.'
At the thought, she moved the box quickly away from her, as grief began to rain down in droplets over the precious photos.
'Why Angel, why did you have to leave me...you promised me you wouldn't.'
Angel awoke some time later, un-refreshed from the fitfull sleep and the empty cavern was starting to give him the creeps. Plus he was in desperate need of food and water, so he forced himself to stand and headed into the cage for the clothes that had been torn off him for the beatings. The trench coat was beyond wearing, the rest weren't in much better condition but the torn shirt, matted pant and dirty shoes were as good as he was going to get at the moment. After dressing, which was a torment in itself due to his numerous injuries, he slowly made his way back to the surface.
The days of starvation and beatings had left him drained, he was exhausted, hungry, and had no idea where to go.
The sun was high in the sky, 'When did that happen?' he wondered as he looked out into the bright sunlit world.
He couldn't remember much of his life beyond getting his soul back and spending 100 years being miserable for it, but he wondered if having his soul was what made him more human. He reached a tentative hand out from the shadows of the sewer tunnel he was standing in, the light warmed his cool skin, but didn't burn.
Satisfied he wouldn't become the human torch, slowly he stepped out into the light, savoring the feel of it.
He had forgotten what the sun felt like.
He wandered into the day, meandering around, he was starving, but didn't have any money and he wanted to avoid people; he wasn't feeling particularly sociable at the moment.
Nor did he look the part, he could feel the bruises and smell the blood covering his dirty clothes.
His thirst was quenched at a public water fountain on the outskirts of a park, and he managed to snag a handful of hotdogs from a vendor when the guy wasn't looking, but the numerous people milling about in the July heat drove him to a more secluded area.
A short time later he found himself in a cemetery, figuring it was as good a place as any to eat and rest; but it was strange being there in the light.
After wolfing down his meal, he walked deeper onto the grounds, sensing something; he wasn't sure what it was but decided to check it out.
'What do I have to lose?' He wandered up to a mausoleum, noticing it looked like something had recently crashed into it, the stone was freshly cracked. He could see dried blood on the wall. 'That's funny…it smells like my blood…' His hand rubbed a spot on his forehead that was sore for some reason.
The strange feeling in his gut intensified, so he pushed open the door and walked into the crypt. It was larger inside than it looked from the outside. Stairs led down a level and it expanded out underground. When he got to the center of the room, he noticed the body of a demon lying in the corner, it resembled a mutated gorilla with horns and claws.
Curious he went over to it, he noticed the head had been severed.
A shadow passed behind him and he turned quickly, whatever it was stuck to the shadows.
A deep throaty voice roared into his ears, it echoed off the stone walls, making its location hard to determine. "My mate is dead! I smell her on you! You killed her! You will die!"
He couldn't believe it. 'Again? Are you serious? What is this, national 'Angelus killed my mate I want revenge' day?'
"Listen it sounds like you're having a bad day, I'll just leave you to it." He called out looking around. 'I really don't have the strength for this right now, can't I just take a nap?'
Before he could make it to the steps the dead demon's angry mate melted from the shadows. It looked exactly like the dead demon in the corner, except this one was much bigger, and had a lot more pep.
The maddened demon charged, Angel barely avoided getting disemboweled as a clawed hand swept inches from his abdomen.
He knew his strength wasn't back yet; the previous days of torture had taken a lot out of him to heal from the more serious wounds.
The demon didn't seem to mind thought as it raked its claws at him time and time again.
He could only dodge so long; sooner or later this thing was going to connect, and as it turned, it was sooner rather than later.
Angel screamed as the clawed hand stabbed into his left shoulder, reopening the last battles wound and added another one. Thankfully only two of the three claws pierced him, but two was two too many for his liking.
He growled and kicked the demon in the face, sending it backwards into a stone pillar. Panting and tasting his blood in his mouth, he righted himself knowing he had to finish this fast. He ignored the pain in his screaming shoulder as he pried a cast iron torch from the wall and wailed on the demon.
Still beserked, the demon swatted at Angel, catching him in the chest and sending him flying into a stone coffin. He felt a few already cracked ribs give way as he landed. 'Oh god, forget later, this hurts now.'
He rolled quickly off the tomb as the demon's giant clawed fist slammed down on it, the cover cracked in half.
Scrambling for the dropped torch to use as a weapon, as he picked it up he saw a flash run thought his mind, "Buffy" he whispered, and in a whirl the missing years of his life returned in an instant.
His eyes refocused on the real world just in time to get knocked backward into the wall again.
Coughing up blood, Angel felt his broken ribs burn with each breath.
Part of him wanted to just lay down and give up, make the pain stop with death, but instead, he pulled Buffy's face back into the forefront of his mind, 'I told her I would be back, and I'm not letting her down.'
Picking his broken body up, he felt a wave of renewed strength enter him, his demon giving him the last of its reserve strength.
Angel ran at the creature, his bruised knee protesting violently, but he ignored the agony as he jumped into the air. He flipped over the demon and came up behind it; he slammed the torch into the creature's spine.
It screamed and lashed out wildly, but the living demon just managed to dodge the clumsy attack and painfully kicked the creature's legs out from under it.
Glancing around, he looking for something to behead the thing with. At least he knew making it headless worked.
A stone statue of a woman, ironically an angel, holding a sword in front of her was carved into the wall. "Sorry, need to borrow this." He muttered as he broke the stone sword from it and hoped it would be sharp enough to finish the job.
There was probably something cool and heroic he could have said as he held the weapon above his head and swung it at the demon, but he didn't have the extra energy for words.
The blow connected and the severed head rolled off to the side, actually hitting the already dead demon and causing that head to drop to the ground beside the second.
The two headless demons were then reunited in death, but Angel paid it no attention at all.
Dropping the marble sword, the living vampire collapsed to the ground, his whole body screaming at him to rest.
He coughed again, blood flowed down his chin and a fresh wave of pain shot through the broken ribs.
Rest, that what he needed right now, to just close his eyes and sleep for a week.
But there was one thing he wanted more than food or water or sleep.
'Buffy.'
He wanted, no needed, to get home to his family.
It took a few tries, but he finally rose shakily to his feet and began the grueling two mile walk home.
Buffy sat on the couch, feeling lost. Close friends and family were casting sad glances at her every few moments, to the point she felt like screaming or stabbing their eyes out.
The only one family member not present was Connor, he was unreachable at the moment, away on a camping trip with friends.
Telling the young man his father was dead wasn't a conversation Buffy was looking forward to.
The small group milled about, no one really sure what to do. Mostly they were just there to support Buffy and pay their respects to their fallen friend.
Giles sat looking into the burning flame of the memorial candle, 'Buffy can't handle this right now. I'll have to come up with a story for the official death certificate, why there wasn't a body, why there was nothing in the paper, why we knew he would never come back. Next week, I'll have a real memorial service planned for all those whose lives Angel touched.'
He felt heartbroken over his son-in laws untimely death, and it wasn't just for Buffy and the children's sakes. He genuinely had grown to love the vampire, had admired him immensely for all the things he had gone through and was amazed at the man he had become.
He often wondered how someone could live as long as Angel had, with as much guilt and negative history, and still be able to love unconditionally and raise a family.
The biggest heartache was the youngest of his children, Angel would never get to meet.
...
Xander paced, he hated this.
He felt responsible, he felt like everyone was holding him responsible. He just stood there while Angel got impaled, he caused the delay in locating him at the hospital because his phone hadn't been charged, and he had tactlessly crushed Buffy's hope of seeing her husband again.
'I'm am ass.'
It was no secret that he and Angel had never gotten along, but he certainly wasn't happy the guy died. There was Jenny's death, and he'd helped Angel get sucked into hell as payback. There'd been the rebound from that in Oz's van a few years ago, when he'd offered his blood to Angelus, then the verbal slap in the face from Angel after his soul merger, calling him out on why he treated him like crap when he had never blamed Anya for her digressions as a demon. After everything, he figured that all debts had been paid in full but he and Angel would always hold a mutual dislike.
Xander's heart was really crushed for Buffy, he couldn't imagine what she was going thought, and the kids, he loved his niece and nephew like his own children, if he had them.
Shaking his head, 'Maybe I should have treated Angel better, he made Buffy so happy, and all I ever did was give him a hard time. Yeah, ok so he went crazy homicidal maniac a few times, most people in this room have at one time or another. I never treated any of them as badly for it.'
Casting a glance over towards Buffy, his heart twisted further at the mask of utter despair she wore.
Debbie, his girlfriend, put her hand on his shoulder as a sign of comfoty, and he leaned into her warm embrace.
He suddenly felt guilty; Buffy couldn't feel this kind of comfort anymore.
...
Dawn was upstairs, she had been watching the kids for the last three days; she knew Buffy needed time to come to terms with Angel's death so she kept them as distracted as possible.
However, as the days wore on, Katie especially had been getting more and more upset about being told 'Daddy is away but will be back later.' In a moment of weakness, Buffy had broken down and allowed her father Hank to take the kids to his house to get them away from the hectic search and high emotional tension.
As the brunette moved around the empty rooms, picking up toys and tidying up, she thought about Angel.
It wasn't like the thought of Angel dying had never occurred before; Angel hadn't exactly led a safe and injury free life. Nearly dying was a common event in the Summer's home.
But this time was different, no one actually saw it happen, they didn't have a body, yeah they had strong evidence, but it still didn't feel real.
She missed him already.
He had been a part of her life for so long now, in her memories anyways. She could remember him back when Buffy and Angel were on and off dating in Sunnydale; the way they interacted had been so cute. Buffy had been so happy, and when Angel left, she had shared Buffy's pain, sort of hating him too for a while for breaking up with her sister.
However, Angel had always been good to her, treating her like his own sister. She had been ecstatic when she'd first learned they had gotten back together and he was 'human'.
He had continued with the 'big brother' routine when he came back into her life, even stepped into a 'fatherly figure' roll when she needed it. They felt like a real family when he was there, and since she had missed out on growing up with both a mother and father since the divorce, seeing Buffy and Angel happily married had given her hope that relationships really could last a lifetime.
When the kid's rooms were clean enough, Dawn went downstairs to sit with her suffering sister.
...
Oz stood off to the side, his mind flooding with emotions that would never make it to the surface.
Angel had been his friend, really his friend. He was feeling that loss now, as he stood watching the others.
There were things he'd wanted to ask Angel about, like how to handle a pregnant wife, expectations for having a more-than-human baby, and just plain having someone who understood living a duel existence to talk to. Angel had a demon just like Oz, and it had been that kind of demonic connection the werewolf had come to depend on for guidance from the more experienced man.
His mind kept replaying the fight over and over again, 'Why didn't I react sooner? I should have known the demon wouldn't die from a single sword blow to the back, why didn't I behead it first? It's my fault.'
He shuttered motionlessly as he remembered the feeling of Angel's blood pooling beneath his knees, the warmth fleeting as his friend's blood soaked into his jacket.
'Damn. Angel you were a cool dude, you didn't deserve to die like that, I'm sorry I failed you.'
...
Cassidy couldn't believe what she'd come home to.
For years now she'd been struggling to keep Angel alive, and then she arrives back at Angel Investigations with a whole new arsenal of life-saving techniques to find the building in mourning, to learn the one week she went out of town her worst patient went missing and supposedly died.
The lack of body really through her for a loop. Cassidy was a hands on kind of girl, and without that physical evidence, no autopsy or physical remains to inspect, this whole event felt too surreal.
There was sadness in her heart over losing Angel, there was a bit of anger too, at him for vanishing without a trace, but mostly at herself for not being here.
'If I'd been here, I would have treated him, he wouldn't have died because I wouldn't have let him. He would have been safe with me in the Med-Ward...I wouldn't have let him go.'
Snagging a tissue from of the numerous boxes, she dabbed her eyes, 'Damn it Angel, why did you have to die when I wasn't here to save you?'
...
Willow sat glumly in the corner, she had been thinking about spells, if there was something she could do to bring Angel back.
She had quickly pushed the idea way when she glanced at Buffy, 'I pulled her out of heaven, and I couldn't do that to someone else. The price they pay is too high.'
She had felt miserable since the first tracking spell failed, seeing the little ball of light hover over the map and just flicked out instead of pointing to a location. There were 5 other spells she'd tried, none have given her any readings on the missing living vampire, concluding he must actually be as dead as they had feared.
She had really thought Buffy and Angel would be together forever; they had always beaten the odds before. Their love had stood up to; separation, anger, soullessness, pain, loss and even heaven and hell. They always came back to each other in the end, at least until now.
Angel had always been special to her, he had been her first; her first spell that is, his re-ensoulment.
She had spent years wishing she had been able to perform the spell faster, if she had, maybe Buffy wouldn't have had to send him to hell.
During the spell, she had felt his soul pass thought her as she pulled it from the ether, she never told anyone about it, because frankly it had scared her.
For one crazy second, she had felt him; she had really felt his soul. Because of that, she had been able to see the difference between Angel and Angelus; she could understand the difference in them.
She couldn't sense him like Buffy could, but she knew she could trust Angel. She knew he wasn't the demon, he was the soul.
The soul merger hadn't mattered, Willow had still known better than anyone, besides Buffy, what was in the former vampire's heart.
A tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly. The redhead felt strange crying over him, it just felt so unreal. Plus what right did she have to cry, her pain was nothing compared to what Buffy felt.
She almost felt like she was insulting Buffy if she cried for Angel.
She got up, Dawn was sitting with Buffy on her right, so she sat on the her friend's left, pulling her hand into hers and giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
Buffy didn't react to it.
...
Buffy sat frozen on the couch, Angel's ring hung on a chain above her heart, or at least it would have if her right hand wasn't holding it in a death grip.
'This can't be real life. This can't actually be happening. I can't say goodbye.'
Willow sat on her left, Dawn on her right, both women trying their best to help Buffy thought her grief, but both knowing nothing besides Angel walking thought that door was going to pull the Slayer out of this depression.
And they both knew that wasn't going to happen.
TBC...