Scared

Author's Note: This is the first fanfic I have ever written despite the many I think up in my spare time. I actually drempt this story soon after watching the season finally. Please respond, let me know if I should write more or if I should change parts of this one. It would be much appreshiated. P.S. Please don't worry about being kind.

(This story takes place soon after Prophecy Girl, Buffy's mother has forced her to take some summer school classes. Xander's parents have forced him to do the same. Willow took the extra classes by choice. They both thought she was nuts.)

Buffy sat down on her bed, diary in hand. She stretched her shoulders and rubbed her neck. Balancing the book in her lap, she bit off her pen's cap. She let out a long relieving sigh and began to jot.

Dear Diary,
Today was a total bust! That's why I took the night off to get some rest. Every class I had today got me in trouble. I kept zoning and I guess the teachers all tattled 'cause Snyder wanted to chat. Even Giles got ticked, in his own calm British way, when I spaced during training. I tried to cover, but I think he noticed something was up when he mentioned Angel giving him help. I was zapped right back to the real world. How am I supposed to do anything right with Angel on the brain. Why a vampire? I mean couldn't I at least get the hots for someone with a pulse!?… I just can't believe how much I want to be with him,… and how much I can't. Life's just too ironic. No guy I've ever known has made me feel this way before, I'm so scared not to be with him.

Buffy glared down at the words she just wrote. As a panicked look struck her features she slapped the pages of the journal together and recapped her pen. The expression began to fade. She exhaled and stood leaving wrinkles in her once flawless bedspread. She placed her diary on her dresser and turned out the light. As she climbed into her warm bed she gave a long weary stare at the shimmering cross on her desk. She closed her eyes and went to sleep. She had once thought that this was her only escape, but he soon found his way into her dreams as well.

LATER THAT NIGHT

With one swift, silent movement Angel was peering through her open window. Her deceivingly small figure lay resting, illuminated by the moonlight… Her head was gently positioned on her lace pillow. His shadow's form fell across her skin. It comforted him to watch her sleep, to know she was safe. He tried so hard not to care, but he couldn't fight his feelings. He could hear her heartbeat fill the silence of the room and he sat. For hours he watched her covers rise and fall with each breath she took.

He ran the back of his hand down her cheek and she smiled at his touch. The name Angel came through her lips as a soothing whisper. He grinned, knowing he was in her thoughts, but soon the aching pains in his heart slowly returned as he was forced to face reality,… and their fates.

He closed his eyes and turned away. A single tear rolled down his cold, pale skin. So many would be wishing to die at this moment, all he could do was wish to live. He felt a small hand being delicately placed on his knee. He turned toward Buffy only to see her tear filled eyes gazing back. He stroked her cheek once more, "I'm sorry."

"Stay." Her quivering voice pleaded with him, but he was already gone. She pulled her knees to her chest and began to shake. She wept calmly not quite understanding the intense pain, which was consuming her body.

Unknown to her, he had heard her request and he did remain. In his head he knew he should leave, but to his heart she was the only thing that mattered. He knew he had caused her pain and his body would not let him run. He sat on her roof resting against the same wall as she did, praying she knew he was near… Listening to her muffled sobs, another tear slid down his soft, white flesh.

EARLY SATURDAY AFTERNOON

When Buffy woke, her body was sore and her eyes struggled to focus. She could still feel his touch residing beneath her dried tears. She washed her face and got dressed in an old pair of jeans and her favorite tank top. She slid on the coat despite the warm weather. Her skin begged for his touch which although was cool, had the ability to warm her body. She placed the cross he had given her around her neck and clasped the charm in her hand. She walked silently downstairs and straight out the door. Her mother suggested something about food, but Buffy didn't respond.

She was already in another world, one of so many that plagued her life. Buffy walked with empty eyes and a racing mind. The more frustrated she became, the tighter she wrapped his jacket around her body. She felt a stake from the pocket jab her side.

A vampire grabbed her from behind. Buffy awoke abruptly from the intense trance and flung the vampire over her head and to the ground, plunging the stake that once pained her side into it's heart. She dusted her hands as the realization that the sun had set soaked in. The thought that Angel's day had begun creep hesitantly into her thoughts.

Soon she felt another hand on her shoulder. Without a second thought she rammed her elbow back. The sound of cracking ribs rung in her ears. The vampire fell to the ground at the unexpected force of the blow. Buffy spun around to face her opponent, "Angel." She crashed to her knees in disbelief. "Oh God," she saw the blood pouring from his body, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,... I thought..."

"I know."

She allowed her fingers to follow the contours of his chest and he winced in pain. The bone had pierced his skin. Her eyes grew wide and still in horror. "I'm sorry," was all that could escape her winded body. She tried to fight them but the tears began to well up in her eyes.

"I'll be fine." He put his hand to her face and ran his thumb across her cheekbone.

"I better go." His hand slipped away and his eyes fell to watch her finger tips sweep over the blades of moist grass.

His eyes lifted. "Wait."

Still crouched, she turned back, his bleeding seemed somehow worse. "You should lay down," her hand hovered over the wound, "but here isn't the best place." She helped him up as he clenched his teeth. The rib slid back into his body.

He stumbled at first, but as their strides continued, his balance began to return. Her gentle yet firm embrace never left his arm. When they reached his apartment she was surprised to find it above ground. He noticed her puzzled look. "Only one window, it's covered." The look didn't leave her face, not because he had not answered her unspoken question, but because he had.

"I better go," she repeated and began to turn away.

"Do you want to come in?" He couldn't believe what he was saying. The words had left him before he had a chance to think.

She looked at him, her eyes told of her confusion. "Sure," managed to come out under her breath.

She entered through the steel doorway and began to roam the room allowing her nails to skim the surface of various items. Of these included the glass which surrounded a statue of the Buddha and several dozen spines of his hundreds of books.

"Do you... want some thing to drink?" He had finally broken the unnerving quiet.

She inhaled sharply at the unexpected sound of his voice. "Water would be nice," she said. She followed him into his kitchen.

She sipped her water and again, there was no noise. "I'll be right back," he stated, then left.

She let out all the breath she could trying to slow her pounding heart. She put down her glass and leaned against the counter forcing herself to relieve the tension in her limbs. "I think I'm going to faint."

Once he had left the room his eyes closed, but kept walking. One thought raced through his subconscience; *what am I doing?* He went to his wardrobe and pulled out a clean shirt. The one he was wearing was torn and covered in blood. He unbuttoned it and took it off. He suddenly felt her warm touch on his bare back. It trailed down his shoulder blade and rested on his side when he faced her. Their eyes met for a moment and then parted. She brought a wet rag to the still healing, jagged tear of his rib cage.

"You should really clean your wounds despite... I mean, you don't want to get scars." Her voice was trembling.

"I can't... scar." "Oh." She let her arm drop to her side, the stained cloth grasped tightly in her hand.

Their eyes locked and unknowingly their bodies grew closer. Their lips touched and they shared a kiss that would ruin all others in years to come. Buffy's hand released and the rag dropped to the floor. His arms found their way around her drawing her near. She begged to God he would never let go,...but he did. She couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't face him knowing what he was going to say.

"Buffy..."

"Please, don't." Her voice was still shaking.

"You live and I exist. You can not deny that."

She looked him straight in the eyes. "But we can except it." Another chilling calm arrived in the room and it was like a stake through both their hearts.

"The day I came to know you, was the first day I didn't despise my curse. It was also the day I hated that curse more than anything I've ever encountered, because it is what keeps us apart... I wouldn't be able to bare watching you grow old and die. I'm terrified of that; it would destroy me." The tears were now freely streaming down Buffy's face and he couldn't look at her any more. Silence was upon them once again and although it seemed to last an eternity it had only lasted a few moments. "But I'm more scared of living with out you."