The Lighter Side of Shadows
By Amy
Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, as much as I wish they did.
They belong to Joss Whedon, the WB and Mutant Enemy. Grrr, Argh.
Author's Note:Angel's pov after B2
Feedback: Please! It's what I crave...
Pain clawed at my skin. I felt my eyes roll back in agony. I was waking
up from a slumber full of terrors. I frantically grabbed for the support I
used. My memories. Even Hell could only touch
me slightly there.
I slipped quietly in, and could almost feel cool air touch my face as I wore my memories
as a shield for the day. Like I had been doing for at least a hundred years.
I tired not to think of how long I
had been there, though, knowing that even my beloved couldn't have lived for a hundred
years. Immortality denied to her was one of Fates crueler tricks. It
was always playing mean games with us.
So, instead of thinking the truth, I thought of the world of pretend that we had
built for ourselves. The world of pretend that, though was full of honesty,
*did* deny what we didn't like. *Did* deny
what our hearts couldn't handle knowing. I slipped into my world with Buffy.
I started, like I did every day, remembering the first time I had set my eyes on
her face. The first time I would ever see her, the only time with the sun hitting
her hair. I treasured the light of it,
stroking her hair in love, playing with her smiles. I recalled thinking that
she would make an exceptional Slayer. Something on the inside that the others
I had faced simply didn't have. She walked
with her friends, giggling like an innocent girl and I was immensely sorry that her
innocence wouldn't last as long as she thought it would.
That night, as I watched her face her first vampire and win, I felt the first good
feelings stirring inside of me in the last ninety years. Trying to push them
back-- after all, I was a monster, who didn't
deserve feeling like that -- I watched anxiously as she slayed her first vamp and
came to the realization that the world as she knew it was over. No more happy,
innocent days. I was overcome with
emotion, unsuccessfully denying that we were already tied. That I had sealed
both our fates by looking upon her face that day for the first time.
I walked her home that night, for the first time ever, not knowing then how many
nights in the future I would make sure she got safely home. I looked at her
through her window and watched those
precious tears fall, wishing I could catch them on my fingers and make sure she never
shed them again. Alarmed, I turned away, not knowing what to do with these
rapidly blooming feelings I was
having for this young girl. Trying my best not to know that the feelings were
the very first stirrings of true love. It never worked.
I made my way down to the sewers that night, fully intending to tell the Whistler
that I couldn't take the job. It seemed far too dangerous for me to be around
someone who made me feel so-- who
made me feel. My acceptance slipped out of my mouth, though, unheeded. And
before I could take back what I had said, we were off and running, buying me clothes
to fit the part, training my body
for the fighting it would inevitably require. And of course transferring the
funds of eight dead rich men into an account of my own to sustain anything that I
would need. The Whistler never did
acknowledge the meaning of "enough."
Then, later, when I first talked to her. I stayed cryptic, listening to the
words of caution the Whistler had given me to not become a part of her life.
The only thing the demon was ever really serious
about, and it continued to break my heart, denying me real contact. Making
me have to disappear into the shadows as soon as my job for the night was done.
Especially when I actually started talking
briefly with her, noting her raise in body heat when I was around. Almost torture
to leave. But I always did.
Until the night I saved her from the Three. Breaking all rules, I decided to
stay over, if only for the one chance I would ever get to listen to her heart beat
while she slept. To smell her perfume on my
pillow. And then the next night for me, pure heaven and hell, knowing I should
leave before things got out of hand and I kissed her. I wanted to kiss her
so much. The smell of her hair, the
strength radiating off of her in waved. I denied all doubts in a flash of hazy
passion.
Her lips on mine were sheer heaven. I felt the smallness of her body, fitted
perfectly to mine and snuggled her closer as she wound her strong arms around my
neck, pressing her hands to my skull.
I felt the change, though, and panicked. I almost smile now at the amazing
turn of events. How she found out and accepted me. Our searing kiss at
the Bronze. Stepping out of the shadows for a
brief moment in time to touch her light.
I tried not to be around her, after that. I still followed her home every night,
making sure that she was safe, but I couldn't talk to her. It hurt too much,
knowing that how wrong it would be if she
was mine. A Slayer and a vampire. I was sure Fate was laughing his butt
off.
So many things. So many things that were left unsaid, though everything was
felt. When the Taraka assassins were after her. I remembered when we
decided to go skating together. And then
later, as she reached up to touch my cut eye. I turned away, embarrassed and
ashamed of what I was, not for the first time. With her words, though, I allowed
my world to fall away.
"Oh. I didn't even notice." And as she reached up to touch
my brow with her bared fingers, I stood in awe for a moment, realizing that, truly,
love was blind. It moved me as I swept her into my
arms, that a Slayer could love a vampire so much that she would not even realize
when he was in his vampire state. We kissed and I felt my long since dead heart
thump, in recognition of love.
Our lives continued to pass in the shroud of love, making us feel invincible from
all harm. Though things still came against our unique romance, we fought them
all back, and succeeded. It felt like
nothing could stop us. I remember vividly placing the ring on her finger, pledging
my love to her, but having my heart be too full to say it. I wish she had gotten
to hear it more.
That night, she gave me the remains of her innocence, and I gave her my soul.
We took each other to the height of passion and back again, pushing our bodies to
exhaustion with our need to express
all the love we could in one night. Selfishly, even knowing what would come
later, I would do that night over again if I could. I regret not a moment of
what happened in my warm bed with the
woman I considered my wife. She made me truly happy, and content, and no matter
what anyone says, no one really finds the place of pure joy that we did. Her
kisses littered on my mouth, the
offering of her neck when it was time. The trust she gave, full and open and
I sank my fangs into her neck and we finished together. The blood of the Slayer
who loved me running through my veins
and we snuggled together and whispered words of love to each other. I try never
to think of the next part, even the acknowledgment of the things that happened in
the next five months bring me back
to Hell.
I think, instead, of our last moment together. I dream of her face moving towards
mine, and her tears on my neck. I think of the warmth in that last embrace.
I wish hard that it could happen again.
But it doesn't, and I am denied in my hopes. I think of our last kiss, and
of her warm mouth seeking refuge against my own. I would've sacrificed myself,
I hope she knew. I would've given
everything. I hate thinking that she would blame herself, though I know she
did.
My memories come to an end, and I slip back into the shadows, the heat pulling at
my eyes once again. Just like being in the sunlight for a vampire, but there
is no end to this torture. I try to get back
into my dreamworld again, but it evades me, and I know it's another joke being played,
giving me a taste of something sweet, and turning it into vinegar.
Suddenly, though, something is different. Different from all of the countless
days I have been there, something that shocks me. A light invades the dark
torment of where I am, and I use all my
strength to run to it. I run, faster and faster, but I seem to be staying in
the same spot. Suddenly, I collapse on the ground and cool air wafts over my
face. A comforting hand reaches for me and
runs lightly over my brow. The pain is far less, and though it hurts, I rejoice
at knowing that I am back on earth.
A bleeding wrist pushes in front of my face and I latch onto it, feeding with passion.
The familiarity pushes it's way into my mind, and I know whose blood I am taking,
again offered to me in a
moment of trust and joy. I thought she was dead! It couldn't have been
a hundred years... Of course Hell would make it seem so! My mind rejoices
in the knowledge. I let go after taking
enough, and open my eyes, realizing that I'm in no more pain. I look at my
hands first, and I am shocked to realize that it is normal. No burn marks,
nothing. I am shocked again to see a small
twitch in a vein on the top on it. I breath in deeply, not knowing what to
do. It registers, and I stop breathing, long enough to realize that I can't.
I need to breath. Oh my God.
I look up into Buffy's face, she is watching me with hooded eyes. I am in shock,
realizing that I will never have to feed again. That Buffy's offer to me was
a way of making me... human. I look
back down when she says nothing, knowing that she is blaming me for everything, knowing
that she will never forgive what I have done, and I get shakily to my feet.
I stare at the ground, not knowing what to say. Xander, Willow, and Giles stare
at me, as if trying to gauge whether or not it worked. I can't meet Giles's
eyes, and I turn toward the door,
mumbling the only thing I can think of. "I'm sorry." And a
whispered, "Thank you." I start for the exit, not able to be in the
same room with her knowing she hates me.
But I stop when I hear her heart cry out. Her heart speaking to mine, so new,
and yet I don't question it. So right. "Angel!"
I turn slowly around, not knowing how, but knowing that I was wrong. I look
into her wet eyes and my tears spill over. For lack of knowing what else to
do, I open my arms to her. She looks at
me, slowly processing that I'm not leaving, and then runs into my waiting embrace.
I fold my arms around her and we sob together, clinging as if for dear life.
I murmur softly in her ear,
incoherently, soothing her with my voice. I step into the light of her soul,
and for the first time, I'm not burned at all, not stung my the harsh reality of
vampire and Slayer. Our hearts say more
words than our mouths do.
"Shh, It's okay, it's okay."
"Oh, Angel..."
The others watch in silence, and I look up briefly, silently thanking them with my
eyes. Giles nods, looking tired and proud, and smiles at me. I know that
he forgives me, and I'm so grateful, I
nearly collapse. Instead I crush Buffy closer to me. They turn and go
into Giles's office, giving us time to be alone.
Buffy continues weeping against my chest, not loosening her grip on my waist.
I nearly laugh.
She sniffles and giggles, slightly loosening her hold. I lift her chin up for
a kiss and she meets me halfway. My Beloved... Our lips meet, and she
leans up to get closer. The intimacy of the kiss is
the final step to my humanity. To knowing I'm forgiven.... I smile against
her mouth and lift her up, spinning her around as she continues to press my hot mouth
with kisses. We laugh in joy, the
sound ringing in our ears and through the library. No time for sadness or questions
now. I set her down gently, and let my eyes rest on her face, filled with light
from the sun spilling in the
windows. I always knew she would be more magnificent in the sunlight.
She places her hand in mine, and we wordlessly leave the library and the school,
heading towards the daylight. I squeeze her hand, and she grips mine back as
I feel the sun hit my face for the first
time in 243 years. We head out, not knowing where to go, but I know one thing.
She nods, and we walk under the sun together, into our future.
The End