A. N. - Once again, the paragraphs written in bold are intended to be 'flashbacks'.
Therapy (Pt. II) - XXXVII
'Words of comfort, skilfully administered, are the oldest therapy
known to man' - Louis Nizer
He was nothing more than a random demon; a red-skinned, two horned atrocity of slight build and average height that she had stumbled across during a sweep of the cemetery intended to relieve just a fraction of the tension coiled inside her. He was unarmed and not overly strong, yet Buffy kept the punches raining down with determined vigour. The demon stumbled backwards and landed hard against a tombstone with his arms spread out either side of his body in an almost angelic pose. His eyes practically rolled around in his head as he struggled to focus once more upon his enemy. Truly, there was nothing exceptional about him from his inexpert fighting style to the inappropriate slogan t-shirt he wore; and yet Buffy was not to be deterred from her goal. Destruction was the one thought that prevailed in her mind.
Buffy whipped a stake from her back pocket and buried it deep into the creature's heart, hoping for an effect beyond the one she received. The demon groaned, agonised, but as Buffy retrieved her stake with a mere flick of the wrist he simply sank to the ground panting. With a shrug, Buffy delivered a roundhouse kick to the demon's jaw that sent his head snapping backwards.
During the inevitable silence that followed, Buffy became aware of the steady sound of Angel's breathing. After a few moments, a bizarre gurgling noise also found its way to her ears. It took Buffy several seconds to realise that this was the sound of her own hysterical laughter bubbling from her lips.
"I'm sorry, I thought you just said…" Buffy paused, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye before dissolving once more into fits of helpless giggles. She bent double over the bench, one arm wrapped around her stomach as her entire body rocked with the effort of her laughter.
"Buffy…" Angel murmured, his gaze sweeping Buffy's face in a concerned manner. Abruptly, the Slayer's mirth dissipated, and in the next instant her balled fist shot forward. The movement was almost invisible to the eye due to the speed at which it was executed, leaving Angel with little hope of extracting himself from the line of fire.
Buffy's knuckles connected with the wall a fraction of an inch above Angel's head. The stone splintered with the impact but did not shatter beyond the cloud of dust that filled the air suddenly. The miss was wide and evidently deliberate but nonetheless Buffy's features had hardened into a mask of pure fury. Angel bowed his head, beginning to prepare himself both mentally and physically for what was yet to come.
"Please… no more…" the demon pleaded, leaning to the side and spitting frothy blue blood onto the soil. His eyes narrowed as he peered up at the Slayer, who had yet to so much as break a sweat.
Buffy clenched her jaw, stealing herself against the demon's plea. She had no desire to feel even the slightest pang of sympathy for the creature, whom she had discovered unearthing a grave with a view to ingesting the internal organs of the recently deceased occupant. If truth be told, Buffy had swung by the graveyard in the hope that she might happen upon some unsuspecting minion of Hell upon which she could vent her frustration. Unfortunately, Buffy had found that despite her best efforts, her impending victory was not providing her with the release she so desperately sought.
"You want it to stop," Buffy replied coldly, "then tell me how to kill you. Otherwise, I got no place else to be tonight."
"Come on, Slayer," the demon whined, his face crumpling in a combination of defeat and intense pain, "have a heart. What did I ever do to you, hey?"
"You can hit me if you think it will help," Angel offered quietly, his gaze slipping to the ground. He drew in a deep steadying breath and noted Buffy almost simultaneously doing the same. She remained unmoving, however, expressing no desire to take Angel up on his offer.
"You should know that I have wanted to tell you for so long," Angel said, his voice wavering in a betrayal of the emotions that threatened to overcome him at any moment. "After a while things became too complicated and the lies became too many to keep track of."
"What's his name?" Buffy demanded, barely allowing Angel time to complete his sentence. Her eyes remained trained on her knees, which were locked tight together whilst her palms rested on her thighs. Angel noted that the knuckles of her right hand were torn and bloodied but, as he made a move to examine the wounds, Buffy recoiled from his touch somewhat violently.
"Connor," Angel simply replied.
Buffy gritted her teeth and, before she could even begin to contemplate the cruelty of the act, her foot connected once again with the soft belly of the demon. He collapsed to one side, coughing and spluttering pathetically. The demon's resolve was clearly flagging and yet his battered body seemed excruciating hours away from the mercy of death.
"That all you got?" Buffy demanded. The muscles in her jaw flexed as she fought to suppress the sorrow that would surely ebb away at her anger if given the opportunity. Buffy struggled to hold onto her fury like a drowning man would a life preserver, knowing that it was the only thing keeping her afloat for the moment.
The demon's mouth opened and closed although no sound beyond a pained gurgle seemed to escape. The fingers of his limp right hand twitched, beckoning Buffy closer to his body. The Slayer moved forwards unconcerned and crouched by the side of the demon in order to lower her ear to his blood smattered lips.
"Sever… limbs…" the demon choked out with some effort, his eyes widening in pleading. Surprised, and more than a little dismayed by her own zeal for violence, Buffy turned to regard the demon.
Angel sat obligingly in what he hoped was a desired silence, on Buffy's part at least. The Slayer had remained mute for almost five whole minutes now and Angel found himself growing increasingly anxious as the time amounted.
"I know there's nothing I can say to fix this or make it right," Angel said, his voice gentle and carrying undertones of remorse, "I'm not about to insult you by trying. I just need you to know the truth."
Buffy's head whipped up and, finally, she consented to look upon her lover's face with eyes that blazed.
"Oh God…" Buffy whispered, her hand fluttering to her mouth as she drank in the appearance of the creature before her. Buffy's stomach twisted into a sickened knot as she realised that her hands were bathed in the blood of the demon, whom she had been only too eager to offer the most ugly of deaths to. Buffy's disgust was reserved entirely for herself.
"I… I'm sorry…" Buffy murmured, wiping her hands down the legs of her pants in an effort to remove the royal blue liquid that stained her skin. She tentatively reached forwards and, wincing in sympathy, hauled the demon into a half sitting position. The creature groaned as the movement exacerbated over a dozen wounds all sustained within the last twenty minutes.
"Just do it quick, Slayer," he hissed, his breath escaping through his pointed teeth. Buffy faltered, unsure of how to react to the demon's request, which was so filled with agony that it brought Buffy renewed anguish.
"I'm not…" Buffy began, shaking her head vehemently and chewing on her bottom lip, "I won't hurt you again."
"You think that will help?" Buffy snarled, her upper lip curling back to expose her bared teeth. "You think that if I know the hows and the whys of this that I may come around quicker?"
"No, I…" Angel stammered, his eyes growing wide.
"Well let's hear it, Angel," Buffy prodded, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a gesture that was both simultaneously angry and defensive, "you want to tell me how you slept with Darla? Somehow created a child with her? Did you raise him together? One great big cuddly, happy family with fangs? Is she still out there somewhere with him… come on, I'm intrigued."
"I never meant to hurt you Buffy," Angel sighed, deflated in the wake of her wrath, "I just can't seem to do anything but."
The demon blinked back the moisture that had pooled in the corners of his eyes and stared askance at the Slayer who knelt in front of him. His expression was mistrustful and his entire body stiffened as Buffy reached out a hand.
"You know, if this is some kind of game…" the demon said, eyeing Buffy warily, "then I ain't interested in playing. I told you what you needed to know so just…"
"I'm not going to kill you," Buffy replied in a rush, her cheeks colouring in shame as she surveyed the demon. Softly she added, "What's your name?"
The demon grimaced, whether pained or embarrassed Buffy could not tell, as he answered, "Roy."
"You were my moment of one true happiness… the first in over two hundred and forty years," Angel murmured, poising with his hand partially extended to his lover, yet refusing to close the gap between their bodies for fear of igniting a spark of anger. "Darla; she was an act of despair."
"What? You expect me to feel sorry for you?" Buffy spat, raking her hands through to the ends of her hair and chuckling dryly. "You betrayed me, Angel."
"I don't and I know," Angel replied patiently, "and I wish that it wasn't true. I love my son but he would have been better off without the life having me for a father afforded him- which is why I did what I did."
Buffy frowned at Angel in response but a faint spark of interest flashed within her eyes. Angel continued, heartened by the momentary lull in the venting of her rage.
"I was in a bad place and I believed I had lost everything. I couldn't see the point anymore in searching for a redemption that would never come, and so instead I decided to give myself over willingly…" Angel paused to glance at Buffy, who appeared to be contemplating his words with an unreadable expression. "When I realised my mistake, everything suddenly became clearer and for a while things were as they should have been. Then she came back and… it was impossible… but before I knew it Darla was dead… again… and he was there. I was a father."
"Well, bully for you," Buffy seethed.
"I gotta hand it to you, Slayer," Roy said in an almost conversational tone as he worked to even out his breathing, "you got one humdinger of a right hook there."
Buffy nodded and replaced the bloodied stake into the back pocket of her trousers without a word. She had surprised even herself with her actions and she was now unsure as to what the next logical step should be. With her anger now fragmenting, she was left feeling as though a gaping hole had been punched in her abdomen. Buffy sank down onto the slightly sodden grass verge at the side of the demon and affixed him with what she hoped was a companionable smile.
"It didn't last long," Angel placated, his expression dark as he allowed himself to relive those memories that had remained comfortably buried for many months now, "he was taken from me and when he was finally returned he could see me for the monster that I was. And I couldn't blame him."
Buffy blinked in confusion as she attempted to process the cryptic meaning behind Angel's words. He stared intently at his lover, allowing Buffy to draw her own conclusions for the time being.
"I took over at Wolfram and Hart for him," Angel explained, "to give Connor a better life… a life with a father that could teach him to ride a bike, take him to baseball games, talk to him about girls. The only thing that a life with me would have given him is nightmares."
"You gave him up?" Buffy queried, something about her tone different now, almost gentle. She peered at Angel through hooded eyes, her bottom lip trembling despite her best efforts to check her grief.
"I did."
"So…" Roy began, the smile he returned wavering in a demonstration of his nerves, "you always this uptight, Slayer?"
"Buffy," interjected Buffy, her cheeks colouring. "And I've had a bad day."
"You and me both kid," Roy quipped, a genuine grin breaking out across his crimson face as he nudged Buffy gently in the ribs. Buffy laughed despite the truly bizarre nature of both the situation and her companion. She felt herself relax just a little and decided to embrace the sensation that had become almost alien to her now.
"This may not be my place and- please don't beat me to within an inch of my life if it ain't but… do you wanna… maybe… talk about it?"
"With you?" Buffy queried, glancing at Roy in evident surprise. The demon shrugged and then instantaneously winced as the slight gesture of raising his shoulders sent a spasm of pain throughout his body.
Immediately guilty, Buffy nodded.
"Sure thing."
"There was a spell," Angel began after another detached pause had elapsed, "to remove all traces of Connor from the memories of the people in my life. New memories were made for him with a new family. They're good people… they could give him what he deserves."
Buffy glanced down at her fingernails quietly, unsure as to how to interpret the wealth of emotions that warred within her.
The story had poured out with less effort required than Buffy had anticipated. Roy had listened raptly to the intricacies of the tale without interruption, patiently waiting for Buffy to draw to a close. His attentive expression never once wavered but Buffy's gaze wandered to anywhere but the demon's face, which had already begun to heal from his injuries.
"So…" Roy said finally, the word accompanied by a long and awed whistle.
"So?" Buffy repeated, the bridge of her nose wrinkling in confusion.
"Well, if my hunk of an ex-vampire boyfriend announced he had a secret mutant-super-baby lovechild squirreled away somewhere in the continental U.S., then I may go around graveyards whaling on defenceless demons too."
Buffy stared at the demon aghast and swallowed hard, her discomfort evident. Roy simply shook his head and dissolved into soft chuckles, which were undeniably good-natured. He clapped a palm to Buffy's shoulder and winked.
"Don't sweat it kid," Roy insisted, "you got it rough. Especially with the whole Slayer gig going on."
"Thanks… I think…" Buffy mumbled, rubbing her eyes wearily and grimacing as she glanced at the face of her watch. Her thoughts drifted momentarily to Dawn and how she would be spending the remainder of the evening in the wake of the gang's failure to return. Buffy would have given anything to be curled up on the couch with a DVD and nothing more than a bowl of popcorn separating her from her kid sister, but too much had occurred over the last few weeks to make real that desire in the near future.
Buffy glanced up as Roy finally pushed himself to his feet and began brushing the clumps of soil and grass from his clothing. He held his body perfectly upright now, no traces of his injuries remaining present in the slightest. Buffy's eyes widened as she marvelled at the demon's apparent self rejuvenation, and her guilt began to ebb away somewhat.
"Did it help?" Roy asked softly, returning his attention to Buffy.
"I guess," Buffy nodded with a small smile, curling her legs into her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees. Roy grinned brightly and turned his back on the Slayer, beginning to amble towards the gate of the graveyard at an easy pace. He paused after several feet and, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he shot Buffy a curious glance.
"So, what you gonna do, kid?"
"This doesn't change anything, you know," Buffy whispered huskily as she peered at Angel through a film of unshed tears. Swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat, Angel nodded his understanding. From its position on her left hand, the diamond in Buffy's engagement ring glinted in the rays of afternoon sunshine that filtered into the courtyard. Buffy ran the tip of her index finger over the stone but her eyes remained fixed to the ground at her feet.
"Where do we go from here?" Angel inquired, his voice barely audible but still evidently shaking. Buffy blinked rapidly in order to dispel the excess moisture in her eyes before returning her gaze to the expectant face of her lover.
Reaching out a shaking hand, Buffy caressed Angel's cheek with her fingertips and shuffled closer to him across the bench. After a moment, Buffy leaned forwards and brushed her lips against Angel's. He moaned softly but resisted the urge to draw Buffy into his chest, knowing that her forgiveness had yet to be gifted to him.
Drawing apart with a kind of slow reluctance, Buffy affixed Angel with a sad smile. In the few seconds that followed, Angel's deep russet eyes widened slightly in a subtle gesture that signified his understanding.
"I need some time," Buffy managed, her eyes desperately sweeping Angel's features as though recommitting his new human visage to memory once more. When she spoke again, the emphasis on her words was clear.
"We need some time."
Buffy glanced down at her fingernails and stared at the chips that had formed in her French polish during the course of the fight. Finally, when it could be avoided no longer, Buffy returned her attention to the demon waiting before her.
"My job," Buffy murmured in reply.
Buffy walked towards the parking lot of the apartment block with her head bowed and her hands clasped in a knot before her. She barely recognised the thud of her own footsteps against the tarmac, but the sound of Angel's voice calling after her suddenly hauled her back to reality as it could never fail to.
"Buffy!" Angel cried, still seated on the bench upon which he had shared his terrible revelation. A beat and then his voice once again, soft and hopeful, "You still my girl?"
Buffy paused for a moment in contemplation and then with a saddened smile, she replied with familiarity, "Always."
Then, Buffy Summers turned on her heel and walked away.
Roy nodded once in understanding before raising a hand to the side of his head in order to offer Buffy a slightly skewed salute.
"See you around, Slayer," Roy said, his tone kind and his responding expression nothing less than sympathetic.
"Yeah," Buffy whispered, as the demon disappeared into the night, "see you around…"