Reunited We Stand - IV
'It's really good to hear your voice saying my name, it sounds so sweet,
Coming from the lips of an angel, hearing those words it makes me weak'
- Lips of An Angel by Hinder
"Buffy…"
Just hearing that voice, like liquid chocolate, still made her tremble and seemed to set her whole body alight from somewhere deep within. Buffy reached out a hand to prevent herself from swaying but found nothing but air beneath her fingertips. Then he was before her and Buffy no longer needed steadying as Angel drew her into his broad chest.
His clothes hung from him in tatters, his shirt ripped open to the naval and his black leather pants torn along both thighs. Buffy clung to him like a child, enjoying for a few brief moments her own vulnerability as she wept into his shoulder.
She inhaled his new scent; sweat mingled with blood and death. She drew back slightly and swept the length of his body with her gaze. She paused every now and then in order to stroke her fingertips soothingly across each gash or nick she encountered. His body had been ravaged to the point that any truly living being would no longer be standing. Buffy's heart bled for him, for she knew that the only pain he would have felt was on behalf of those he had watched fall around him. That was the nature of his curse, and also the nature of the man himself.
"Hush my love," Angel whispered, his lips brushing her earlobe. Buffy shuddered and held on tighter to the vampire, not caring for the time being that the cross suspended from her neck was likely branding his skin. Angel seemed neither to mind nor notice as he gently rocked the Slayer in his arms.
"I thought you were…" Buffy trailed off, unable to finish. The faint dripping of water somewhere was the only sound to pierce the silence that followed. Buffy wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered against the chill in the air, which had only now begun to bother her. Angel suddenly and inexplicably drew away.
"There isn't much time, my love," he said earnestly. His dark eyes never wavered from Buffy's face, allowing her too much time in which to experience the wealth of sorrow and even fear that existed within them.
"Angel…" Buffy began, desperation overcoming her as she longed to be back within the comfort of his arms once again.
"They're coming for me, Buffy," he interjected, extending a hand to Buffy in the gloom. "Please, my love, don't try to stop them."
"How can you ask me that?" Buffy demanded, her voice rising a few octaves as fury washed over her in waves. After so many months of searching, she had only just found him again, and yet he was asking her to relinquish him to the darkness once more. In that moment, she despised him for being so selfish and yet selfless at the same time. Her head ached with the weight of what was being asked of her.
"Buffy, they will kill me, and they will kill you, and then they will swarm the face of this Earth like a plague," Angel continued, his jaw set in grim determination as he continued, despite Buffy's sobs, "you have to stop looking for me. You have to fulfil your duty as the Slayer. What's happening here is bigger than either you or I know how to handle. Don't come to L.A., I'm begging you…"
Buffy opened her mouth to reply but within the second it had taken her to find the words, Angel's screams were already tearing from his chest. The vampire threw his head back so far that Buffy feared his neck might break.
"Angel!" she yelled, unable to do more than back away from him as his body began to convulse. Then, within the dank tunnel, Angel combusted and a shower of ash rained down upon Buffy's head.
The Slayer awoke screaming, lashing out at thin air and suddenly finding herself flung backwards by a restraint that she scarcely remembered being applied. Her fingers clawed at the thick rope and she felt a small stab of pain as a fingernail snapped off below the quick.
"Buffy!" a familiar voice implored, whilst gentle hands found Buffy's shoulders and held her back with obvious difficulty. Buffy forced herself to relax, and finally opened her hazel eyes.
Willow was before her, the witch's expression fraught with weariness and more than a little anxiety.
Buffy realised that the minivan they had been riding in had drawn to a halt, and Giles was now peering over the headrest of the driver seat to gaze at her in evident concern.
It was Dawn who finally spoke in a quiet, trembling voice.
"Buffy, we're here."