by: VanessaSky
disclaimer: Joss Whedon lucky bastard
distribution: my site, anybody else want, take, let me know you have
paring: b/a
rating: pg-14
summary: His love for her did kill him.
an: I was watching reruns of Angel and saw Heartthrob, the things James said about his love for Elizabeth and the things Angel said about how he felt for Buffy made me right this fic. Very sad.
spoilers: Heartthrob AtS S3
feedback: please please let me know what you think
It was close to first light. That time in the morning when the sun shone it's first rays of a beautiful day. The horizon was a swirl of light blues and purples. It was one of the more beautiful things Angel had seen in his life.
But not as beautiful as Buffy was.
A tear drop slipped out of the corner of his eye and he swallowed the last drop of whiskey that resided in the bottom of his glass.
Cordelia was wrong.
He needed her to live. To survive. She was his redemption. If she wasn't there what was he fighting for.
He took the bottle of almost empty whiskey, and poured the rest of it into his empty glass. The light blues and purples of the sky gave way to light oranges and reds.
The morning sky was ever closer to becoming complete.
He knew he felt something off when they arrived through the portal in Caritas. Something was missing from this dimension. This world. And it only took walking into the Hyperion and seeing Willow's big green eyes filled with un-hushed tears to know the truth.
She was gone.
His Buffy, his girl, his light, was gone.
And now there was nothing left to do.
He watched the sun come up over the now orange and yellow sky. He watched and felt the sun cover him, from the open window, in it's warm embrace. It was almost comforting.
The past months had been so cold.
He felt his body give way to ash and sighed out the only name he could think of. The only name that kept him sane in the hundreds of years of torment in hell.
Buffy.
Later that day Cordelia brought up a mug of blood to see if it would get Angel out of his room. He had been up there all day long, and she knew she had maybe been too hard on him the day before when she told him he was needed here, and needed to move on.
Angel needed a little more time to grieve. And they would give him that. She knocked lightly on the door, and walked in. "I'm not staying, I just thought I'd bring you some...."
Her sentence came to a stop as she noticed the open window filling the room with natural light. Noticed the wind coming in from that open window blowing around dust that was imbedded into the chair.
Noticed a glass of whiskey lying on the floor on it's side, it's contents spilling onto the rug.
She let out a mangled cry, dropping the mug of blood, as a vision washed over her. A vision not of the future, but the now past.
The vision of Angel's final moments.
She laid on the floor, and wept until she could no longer cry. And she cried on after that. She laid there understanding the true meaning of undying love.
End
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