Buffy nodded. Everyone had forgotten her; they had had to. Buffy turned to look at Angel. He weakly smiled.
Why did you stay?" Buffy questioned
Angel eyed Giles, and Giles left the room. Buffy sat down on the couch. Angel flopped down into a chair across from her. "I knew you were still alive somewhere. I could feel you. I had to stay, I knew you would come back." His voice caught in his throat, and Angel coved his face with his hands. He couldn’t let her see him cry. He couldn’t. Buffy got on her knees in front of him, and pulled his hands away. A tear fell down his cheek. She was real, he had felt her touch him. This wasn't just some drunken stupor, this was real, and she was right here in front of him. Buffy looked into his eyes and smiled.
"You shouldn’t hide your face. It’s such a nice face," she commented.
"How can you be so strong? I have been so weak; I couldn’t even find you. I couldn’t, and here you are trying to save me now."
Buffy ran a hand through her blonde hair.
"Who said anything about saving anyone?" Angel laughed, and Buffy became serious. "If you fight long enough, you always fight. It’s what you have to do. I am strong because I have to be. It’s not by choice, believe me. There were many days where I said to myself, ‘Okay, Buffy, you need to give up and die.’ But I never did. So, here I am talking to you about the woes of my life." She stood to her feet and walked back to the couch. Angel was silent.
"I love you still. I do. I couldn’t let you go. I can't let you go. Every night I dreamt about you coming back. And now you are back, and I have no idea what to do."
"Can I touch you?" Angel timidly asked.
Buffy nodded. Angel slowly moved to the couch she was on. He touched her face. She closed her eyes. Flashes of the vampires danced across her mind, and she sucked in her breath. She jumped off the couch, and Angel looked back at her stunned, and a little hurt. "Angel, I look a mess. I want to get a shower, change my clothes, and brush my hair." Angel nodded. "Please don’t go anywhere. I just want to look like a person when I talk to you."
He weakly smiled and Buffy went towards the bathroom.
The Past
Willow looked blankly at the book. It was three in the morning and still no information on the big bad that took Buffy. She was so tired. The book’s words started to meld into one black blot. Willow rested her head on her palm, and her eyes closed. Bliss, pure black bliss. A sudden knock on the door woke Willow. She drowsily wiped her eyes, and opened the door. She yawned."Hello?" she called. No answer. Just the dark night, and the crickets humming in the distance. Willow looked to her feet. An elegant letter was sitting innocently on the doormat. It read:
Dear Friends of the Slayer,
Your search must come to an end. We have killed your savior. Your searching will be fruitless. We have enclosed a chunk of her pretty flesh to show you that she is no longer among the living. Telsan, and the seekers have dismembered her and buried her in different states. Have a nice day, the Slayer sure as Hell won’t.
Love,
Your faithful enemies
Willow’s hand shook violently as she read the letter. Blood stained the white envelope that enclosed Buffy's flesh.The phone rang. She ran to pick it up. "Hello?" she sobbed.
"Willow, did you get a letter?" Angel pried. Willow replied yes, and Angel hung up. This couldn’t happen. Not to him. Not to the love of his life. He was supposed to protect her. But it had been four months since they had seen her. Was she really dead? He fell onto his couch. If she was dead, then why could he still feel her, so near? He shook his head. Hope was fruitless.
The Present
She stripped her clothes off. The shower water steamed in an inviting way. She smiled. The water ran down her scars, and she winced as the fresher ones got wet. Angel knocked on the door and brought her a towel. He could hear her sobbing. He wasn’t even sure if she knew he was in there.
"Buffy?" he worriedly called out. She stopped making noise.
"I’ll be out in a minute," she called in a panic. Angel set the towel on the counter and went into the living room. Buffy went into her guest room at Giles’. Strangely enough her clothes were still faithfully waiting for her in the closet. She put them on. She was skinnier now, and they were a little baggy. A brush waited for her on the dresser. She trembled as she took it into her hands, and dragged it through her hair. She felt normal for the first time in a long time. But somehow she still felt as if everything was an illusion, and that as soon as she slept it would all disappear. And she would be back in her prison.
Angel knocked on her door. She turned her head."Are you okay?" he asked. Buffy nodded and looked back at the mirror.
The Past
Xander stared blankly at the wall. She was gone. He had loved her, and now she was gone. Xander felt wetness on his cheek. He touched his face, and felt a tear. He was crying. Everybody was walking around like they had no purpose in life. He had to admit it. Buffy had become more than just a friend for all of them; she had given them purpose.
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