Aftermath
Chapter Four: Who Wants To Live Forever?

They had been silent for ages, just sitting on the grass, staring up at the stars. Their fingers were still entwined.

When Buffy first saw him, he had stepped towards her slowly. His face had been illuminated by the dull orange spilling from the bikers' diner. He had stared at her like she was some kind of beautiful dream, with a hesitant smile on his face, like he wanted to break into a huge grin, but wanted to wait until he was sure. He had approached her slowly and Buffy watched him, not sure how she felt.

Until he had reached out and closed his hands around her shoulders.

With a sob of relief, she had thrown herself into his arms, clutching desperately at his shirt, throwing her arms around his neck. She had pressed herself close, forgetting for a moment the horror of this world as she savoured the feel of him.

It had felt so good to see him again, knowing she had never said goodbye, never said all the things she needed to. Not that it mattered now, now she was alive, he wouldn't want to hear the things she wanted to tell him. They would sound too much like goodbye.

Angel had continued to clasp her hand as they walked towards the grassy area in front of the diner. His fingers grazed against her wrist, feeling the pulse thud. He had sucked in a deep breath and felt his eyes prick with tears. All because she was alive. His girl. His beautiful, strong, wonderful, brave girl was alive.

Buffy glanced at him; saw that his eyes were still fixed on the sky above them. She shifted her fingers to feel the cool grass beneath their hands and he glanced sideways at her.

Her silence felt like she was lying to him, like she was pretending she was happy. She wanted to tell him, wanted to explain that everything in this world was harder, duller in colour, more violent and full of insistent, unnecessary noise. But as he turned to smile at her, she couldn't do it. He looked so happy, a smile constantly hovering at the corners of his mouth, his eyes alive with stunned, joyful disbelief.

She thought telling him might break his heart.

"Angel, can I ask you something?" she asked softly.

"Sure," he answered.

"What's it like? You're immortal, you've been around forever. Always fighting, always having to get up every day and live through it. What's it like to know it's never gonna end? That you're never gonna get to lie down, close your eyes and rest? You're never gonna get any peace. What's that like?"

"That's kinda bleak," he commented, attempting humour. But her solemn expression made him clear his throat and start again. "I don't know. I've never thought about it. Sometimes I get sick of getting up everyday, knowing that it's gonna be the same as the previous day. But then I don't mind, because I've got friends, I've got a purpose. Life's not so bad, Buffy. The stuff that sickens you, reminds you that you're alive, so make the most of it," Angel shot her a quizzical look. "Why?"

Buffy laughed, trying to sound like the girl he remembered, but finding that the laughter echoed inside her, shaking her ribs.

"I guess I feel like I'm gonna live forever," she replied. "Every time I die I wake up again. You think I'm ever gonna die and find peace?"

"Don't talk like that," Angel said tightly, his smile fading for the first time.

"Sorry," she muttered, looking up again at the sky. There was silence, until she spoke again in a low voice. "You know, when you gave Giles the Codex and Giles found out I was going to die, I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. I was sixteen years old and there was so much I wanted to do. I wanted to be Homecoming Queen. I wanted to bungee jump, I wanted to see the Grand Canyon and put a huge bet on in Las Vegas. I wanted to see the world."

"And now?" he asked. "What's changed, Buffy? You sound like someone who didn't want to come back."

"I think I was in Heaven. And now I'm not. I was torn out of there. Pulled out… by my friends. Everything here is… hard and bright and violent. Everything I feel, everything I touch… this is Hell."

The memory of what she had told Spike reeled through her head. She could tell Angel, could tell him everything. If she could tell Spike, she could tell Angel. But he was looking at her, with despair blooming in his eyes and she couldn't. She couldn't do that to him, she couldn't say it knowing it would break his heart.

So she just shook her head.

"I am glad," she lied. "But I just can't help wondering when it's gonna end, y'know?"

He nodded, but didn't answer.

It was strange really, he supposed, that now, now when they could never go back, never be together ever again, now would be the time they understood each other completely.

We're both dead, he thought. But he shook it away, shivering. It was a chilling thought, one that should have had no place in his mind when he was sitting with the woman he loved. The woman who was back after three months in the ground.

"It's nice out here," Buffy commented after a moment.

"Yeah," he answered. "Uh, Faith said hi. No, wait, she said that was lame. She said she was glad that you're back, she said it's a good thing."

"How's she doing?"

"Ok. As well as you can when you're in prison. Why don't you go see her some time?"

Any other time and Buffy would have laughed, said that she wasn't going to see Faith until Faith had done her time and paid for her crimes. But, for some reason, Buffy found herself nodding.

"Will you take me?" she asked.

"What? Now?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

Angel shrugged and stood up slowly, pulling his hand out of hers as he did so. He reached out for her and she slid her fragile hand into his and she allowed him to help her to her feet. He led her back to the car and opened the door for her.

He started to walk away, to go to the driver's door, when Buffy's fingers tightened sharply in his hand. He looked back at her with a frown. She reached out for him, cupping his face in her hand, tiptoeing slightly to kiss him.

He pulled her close and deepened the kiss until Buffy had to pull away to gasp for air. He tucked her hair behind her ears and watched the spark fade from her eyes.

And he mourned her all over again.

They pulled up in front of the prison early the following morning and they said their goodbyes in the car.

"I'm sorry," Buffy whispered, folding her arms around her waist. "For being so quiet. I'm sorry I wasn't more… upbeat."

"It's ok…"

"No, it's not. You deserved something more."

"Like what?" he asked, genuinely perplexed.

"Like… I don't know," she sighed and closed her eyes, looking more tired than he had ever seen her. She reached across to take his hand. "Thank you for being there."

Thank you for making just one night that much easier to bear.

"I enjoyed it," he answered.

I loved being with you again. Sitting there, just holding your hand.

"It was good to see you," she said.

Good to see someone who had no idea what was going on. Good to see someone who didn't drag me back here.

"You too," he answered. "I… I really missed you, Buffy. I missed you so much."

So much I thought I might die. I didn't know how to fight for a world that didn't have you in it.

"I love you, Angel," she said gently, squeezing his hand. "Always have, always will."

"I love you too," he answered. "And I'm sorry. For not being there, for not being able to save you."

"It's all right, it doesn't matter," she gulped. "Not now."

"No," he agreed, nodding.

There was a silence, with both of them staring out of the windscreen, fingers only gently touching.

"Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?" she asked after a moment.

"Goodbye?" he repeated. "Don't you want a lift back to Sunnydale?"

"I can get the bus," she said.

He nodded again, feeling something like relief surge through him as he leaned across and kissed her gently. She pressed her forehead against his for a moment, before she pulled away, grabbed her purse and opened the door of the car. He shifted out of the way of the shaft of sunlight.

"Buffy," he said as she started to close the door.

She leaned back in, pulling the door closed slightly to block the sunlight as she watched him fumble for something in his pocket.

"Here," he said, placing something in her hand. "Dawn gave it to me after... But it's yours."

She blinked at her claddagh ring and closed her fingers tightly around it.

"Thank you," she whispered.

And Angel watched as she closed the door and walked away.

Faith had never felt so popular. Angel had visited the previous day and now she had another visitor. She knew her visitor was Angel because, with the exceptions of Wes and Cordelia's one grudging visit each, Angel was the only visitor she ever had.

So it was a shock to see a tiny blonde woman sitting on the other side of the glass. But Faith hid her surprise and slid into her seat with an impassive expression.

The sound of Faith reaching for the phone made Buffy look up and take hold of her phone.

"B," Faith greeted warily. "Angel coulda passed on a message if you had something pressing to say."

"Hi, Faith," Buffy replied weakly, ignoring Faith's greeting. "How are you?"

"I'm surviving," Faith answered with a shrug, eyeing Buffy with a raised eyebrow. "Bit like you."

"What?" Buffy asked sharply, looking at Faith directly for the first time.

Faith shrugged and settled back in her seat. Her slouch was casual; she hoped it softened the awe that crept into her voice as she answered.

"You survived, B. You clawed your way back again. Only you coulda done that."

"It was Willow," Buffy answered shortly. "She did it. I didn't have to do anything."

"So, uh, why she'd do it? Why'd she decide to bring you back?" Faith asked, leaning forward again and peering curiously at Buffy. "I know Cordelia said they really weren't doing well, but… seems kinda selfish."

"And you'd know all about that," Buffy snapped back. Faith recoiled slightly and Buffy felt guilty. Like Angel, this wasn't Faith's fault. She sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Faith. Willow brought me back because they thought I was in Hell."

"Were they right?"

Buffy was startled by the direct question. She had forgotten how fearless Faith was in an awkward situation. She toyed with the idea of being completely honest here, telling Faith just how wrong her friends had been.

But she didn't.

She hadn't told Angel and she wasn't going to tell Faith, just like she wasn't going to tell her friends.

Spike didn't count. Telling Spike was a fluke, she had needed to get it off her chest, but that was the end of it.

"Yes," she said, not even caring anymore how easily the lies came now. "They were right."

"Oh."

Faith was silent. That would explain that look on Buffy's face. The pinched, pale look on her face, the dark circles under her wide, haunted, I've-faced-death-head-on eyes.

"But you're ok, right, B?" Faith asked, struggling for confirmation.

Buffy had always been in the one constant thing in Faith's life.

Faith's Watchers died and fucked up as monumentally as both her parents combined.

Buffy's friends had only ever been distant influences, even Xander, who was distant even when Faith had her thighs clamped around him.

Angel's input in her life was erratic at best, jumping from barely noticing her, to wanting to help, to playing her, to hating her, to fighting her, to being the only person that cared enough to try. And even now, Faith couldn't count on a weekly visit.

But, Buffy…

Buffy was the one thing in Faith's life that never changed. When Faith first met her, Buffy was a stubborn, prim yet passionate, fiery warrior. Right from the very beginning, Buffy had been the lighter side to Faith's dark. And that's how Buffy remained.

When Faith joined the other side, Buffy remained strong, stubborn and focused on the fight, on saving people.

When Faith was in a coma, when Faith went to LA, all while Faith was in prison, she knew that somewhere out there, Buffy was as stubborn as ever, as prim, as passionate and as great an example of a Slayer as she had always been.

"Yeah, I'm ok," Buffy answered after a moment and even after all this time, Faith still knew her well enough to be unconvinced.

"Everybody hurts, B."

"Was there a reason for that statement, Faith?" Buffy replied wearily.

"Just, y'know, there's always someone worse off."

"Huh," Buffy snorted and Faith smiled.

This wasn't the Buffy that lived in Faith's dreams. That Buffy laughed and danced in the sun, joyful at her second shot at life. As Faith dozed, Buffy chuckled and joked about her good luck. In Faith's imagination, Buffy was never this flat and defeated and it wasn't until Buffy snorted that Faith saw a glimmer of her old Buffy.

"Have you seen Angel?" Faith asked.

"Yeah. He gave me a lift here."

"What did you guys talk about?"

"Faith," Buffy warned.

Faith laughed and held up a hand in defeat and shook her head.

"Ok. Yeah, I know. I probably wouldn't want to hear it anyway," Faith smiled. Buffy didn't answer and Faith lowered her voice as she continued. "Thanks for coming to see me, Buffy."

"That's ok."

"No, I mean it. I'm sorry, Buffy -"

"Don't. Don't say you're sorry. You know it means nothing. Save your apologies for the day you get out of here. Words don't mean a thing. You'll prove yourself one day. I know you will."

Faith opened her mouth, then snapped it closed and nodded.

"I should go. I've gotta catch the bus back to Sunnydale."

"Yeah."

"See ya, Faith."

"Maybe."

Buffy stood up to leave, reaching out to put the phone away, but Faith gestured to her not to. With a frown, Buffy put it back to her ear.

"B."

"Yeah."

"Who wants to live forever, huh?"

Faith's mouth quirked in a shrewd smile. Buffy didn't answer, just gave Faith a grim smile and put the phone away. She stood and watched as Faith was led away, holding one hand up in farewell.

Buffy placed her hand over the pocket of her jeans, where she had put her ring. It would go back in her jewelry box when she got home. A reminder of something beautiful that had passed. She thought vaguely there was irony in that somehow, given her current situation.

She turned slowly and sighed, shaking her head as she muttered:

"Who wants to live forever?" she pushed through the door, out into the corridor towards the light at the end. She sighed as she squinted into the brightness. "Not me."

The End.