I meant for this to be a super short chapter, but it turned into a normal length one. Title comes from something Spike said during the episode "Fool For Love".

Things to know/remember: Buffy still died and was resurrected (as in canon). Joyce is still alive and is married to Greg (introduced in an earlier chapter of my story) so he is Buffy's stepdad. I think that's all you need to know for this chapter!

Enjoy!

He got me. This is it, I'm going to die. I fought so hard, and yet it comes to this.

Angel felt Buffy squirm in his arms. He sleepily opened one eye and saw her shifting in her sleep.

I can't move my arms. I need my arms to fight. I can't fight if I don't have my fists. Where is my Watcher?

Buffy twitched more in her sleep. Angel drowsily pulled her closer, unconsciously trying to soothe her.

The blade cut smoothly into the skin of her cheek. He pulled the knife back and examined the blood before slowly licking it off the metal. She looked at him in disgust. He laughed at her.

"I've got you Slayer. You're going to die here," he taunted her.

She knew he was telling the truth.

Buffy began to move restlessly in her sleep. By now Angel was fully awake. He looked at the girl in his arms and tried to rouse her from her troubled sleep.

"Buffy," Angel whispered.

He got no response.

"Buffy," he said with a bit more force, grasping her shoulder.

He smiled cruelly at her, admiring the many cuts he adorned on her battered body. He twirled a curved blade in his hand as he paced the stone room.

"I wonder, what does a Slayer hold dear?" he asked absentmindedly.

She pulled herself up straighter as best she could, given that she was chained to the wall and severely injured.

She spit out a mouthful of blood. "I have no one. Even if you kill me, another will come for you," she spat at him.

He raised his eyebrows at that. "I'm well aware of the Slayer lore," he stated coolly. "But that's not why we are here."

His mouth twisted into a manic smile. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, his putrid breath causing her to hold back a gag.

"I just want to play."

She screamed for what seemed like hours.

Eventually the pain ceased, and a stillness came over her. He was still inflicting his torture on her body, but she had mentally moved passed it.

She knew she was going to die.

She didn't feel hurt anymore.

She didn't feel the crushing responsibility of being the Slayer anymore.

She felt peace.

She welcomed Death.

She was relieved.

Buffy awoke with a strangled gasp and shot upright in the bed.

She breathed heavily, adrenaline pumping through her system as she looked at her surroundings. She didn't recognize them at first, but she quickly realized that she wasn't in a stone dungeon in the 1600s. A vampire wasn't torturing her for days. She took a few deep breaths, familiarizing herself with the bedroom she was in.

Angel, who was awake by now, leaned up and gently touched Buffy on her bare shoulder. Buffy gasped and jumped at his touch. She clutched the sheet to her bare chest and tried to control her breathing.

"Sorry," Angel whispered. "Another dream?"

Buffy, still breathing a little heavy, nodded. She reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the glass of water that was sitting there, taking a few sips. She put the glass down and remained upright, still trying to calm herself.

Buffy had been having Slayer related dreams ever since she was Called, but recently they had been different. It begun when the Potential Slayers started showing up in Sunnydale. The dreams were more intense, more vivid. They tended to focus on past Slayers deaths, and Buffy was reliving them. It was taking a toll on her already limited hours of sleep.

When Angel insisted she get away from Sunnydale for a weekend and come to LA, Buffy refused. She had too much to deal with on the Hellmouth, too many responsibilities to attended to.

Buffy finally agreed when her own mother, stepfather, and sister, not to mention her friends and Giles practically kicked her out of town for the weekend. Even Spike offered to patrol for the weekend.

Not wanting to be too far from their respective homes in case of emergency, Angel booked a weekend at a cozy Bed & Breakfast in a sleepy seaside town in between Sunnydale and Los Angeles. His caseload in LA was at an all time high, and Buffy was dealing with a literal Apocalypse, so their alone time together had been seriously lacking in the past few weeks.

Buffy settled back into the comfy bed in their room at the Bed & Breakfast, and tried to focus on the sound of the crashing waves coming in through the open window. Although she was beyond stressed, she felt a rush of gratitude and love towards Angel for insisting on this weekend away. She truly needed it. Even if they didn't leave the bedroom…

Angel turned on his side facing Buffy and brushed his hand gently over her shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?" he whispered, referencing the dream she just had. He knew from her phone calls to him that the dreams were getting worse.

Buffy turned towards him and burrowed into his chest. Usually the dreams were about how past Slayers had died, and Buffy could feel every emotion they were going through as it happened.

Angel rubbed his hands up and down her back for a few minutes, trying to calm her back into sleep, before she spoke.

"That one was the worst so far," she whispered into his chest.

Angel furrowed his brow. "Why," he asked gently.

Buffy was silent for a few moments. "She was so scared. And in so much pain. But then she felt nothing. And she was okay. She felt relief."

Angel continued to rub her back, occasionally drifting his hand through her hair. Finally he asked, "Why does that make it the worst?"

Buffy stiffened for a second before answering. "Because I know that feeling. I know that relief. The peace. And it's so tempting to want that again. I know I have so much to live for, but it's so hard…"

Angel froze for a moment before clutching her body to his even closer. He knew she was thinking of when she was on that tower during the battle with Glory. He shuddered at the memory of the total calm and peace she exuded while telling him that she had to jump, to save the world, how she accepted Death, that it was her Gift. She was done. She was going to be okay.

He rained kisses in her hair, murmuring words of love and reassurance to her in Gaelic, which always seemed to sooth her.

He felt privileged that he could see all sides of her. The strong fighting Slayer, and the vulnerable girl. Sides that she would never tell her friends. After all these years he had truly accepted that his role in her life was not only the vampire soulmate, but also the boyfriend that loved every facet of her being. Even though it was over a year since her resurrection, Buffy was still dealing with the aftermath of being pulled from Heaven. Her friends didn't know, her mother didn't know, Giles didn't know. Only Angel did. So he was the only one who could guide her through these Slayer-death dreams she was having.

He hated that he didn't know how long these dreams would last. He hated that she had to experience them first-hand. And mostly he hated how selfish he was for loving that she was here in his arms, a living, breathing person instead of Heaven, where he knew she was at peace.

And in that instant, Angel knew that he would sacrifice everything he had just to keep her safe, just like she had sacrificed her life to save the world.

Utoh...did I just foreshadow something? Find out in the next few chapters!