The Homecoming Trilogy:
Disclaimer: Buffy and Angel, Sunnydale, Slayerettes, etc. are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, The WB, yadda yadda yadda. No profity, no suey.
Dedication: To Sarah McLachlan, for writing haunting tunes that
seem tailor made for Angel and Buffy.
For my Beta Readers & Regulars: Anja, Carrie, Garnet, Moon
Lemming, Sarah, Ashiza, Megg, Sharon, and everybody - Without
you, I wouldn't bother writing... okay, so maybe I would... but
still, your support drives me on!
Note: About two years after Angel left Sunnydale... BOLD print is Angel's POV, Plain Italic, Buffy's. Normal Print contains scenes from the past, being remembered by one or both of them...
The sunset sky was the color of strawberries on fire -- a fuscia so bright, it seemed to burn my eyes as much as the sun itself might... but, of course, it wasn't the sun, only the end of it, and it didn't have the power to turn me to dust, only to make me want to weep at its beauty...
I'd been in San Francisco for three days, following a lead on a supposedly nasty gang of demons who, rumor had it, were threatening to decimate the forces of good residing on the west coast... which, of course, included Buffy... But it turned out to be just a rumor, a bunch of pierced, raven-clad gothic punks chanting Marilyn Manson lyrics, trying to conjure chaos. Disconcerting, maybe, more than a little bizarre, but hardly my line of work.
So I decided to make it into a bit of a vacation lay low for a while, get some rest, take in some sights. San Francisco is a beautiful city, full of majestic old houses perched precariously at sharp angles on hills that seemed to go straight up to the stars And the Marketplace was my favorite part. I came here every evening for dinner when I was in town, browsing the tables of exotic goods, watching the gawking tourists, observing the young hippies dance in the street in all their scruffy glory The marketplace was a teeming with the colors, the odors, the sheer sensation of life. I could get lost in it so easily almost feel alive myself, sometimes
I took in the smells of the food vendors the Greek, the various Asian, the South American and Mexican in combination with the odors of free and joyful humanity, made for a heady adventure of the senses
And that sky that burning sky seemed a backdrop, a bit of scenery against which something momentous might happen
My instinct wasnt wrong. There was a sudden charge in the air that was familiar to my keen hunting sense. A particular bouquet of honeysuckle and vanilla, of shampoo and soft cotton, of smooth, clean skin and sunshine it settled over me and stirred me, forcing me to look up and around, searching the throngs for its source
It was her. Buffy.
But, it couldnt be. She couldnt be here, just like that, not ten yards away
I was frozen for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably more like ten seconds. My god, she was beautiful her hair, long and soft, hanging loose over her shoulders, the slope of her finely muscled back, the curve of her round hip draped by a tiny black dress that flowed over her like a silk waterfall She was rifling through a table covered with scarves, examining one absently, then tossing it aside repeating the movement again and again.
I swear, my heart thumped at the sight of her. I was utterly unprepared for her appearance.
Then, she stopped raised her head looked around
Her eyes met mine
I almost jumped right out of my skin. He was standing there, only a little way away, looming dark and tall over the crowd, staring at me
Angel. My beloved Angel, so long lost I blinked to make sure I wasnt seeing things, but he was moving, walking toward me through the crowd
Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod my mind was babbling. He was gorgeous - more so than even I remembered, with those huge shoulders, those piercing eyes, his trademark black jeans and jacket.
If I was any other woman, I probably would have fainted on the spot from the intensity of the look he wore as he approached. As it was, I was the Slayer he was once my lover. We shared blood. I was ready for him. So, so happy to see him
I was in his arms in a split second, hugging him like he was a dear friend I hadnt seen in years which he was, and I hadnt. Almost three, in fact.
He smelled so good like the smoky Tibetan incense he liked to burn and his arms, his strong arms, clutching me as though his life depended on it. Like he was drowning, and I was a life preserver. I hugged him back, with all of my might, feeling exactly that.
So, so glad
I held her away from me, my hands still gripping her shoulders as if I were afraid she would run away
"Buffy " It was the only sound I could manage to make the only idea that formed in my mind.
"Hi." She smiled. That smile, that brilliant smile, as bright as the sun, framed by those petal soft lips
"What are you doing here?" We said together, and laughed. Always thinking alike, she and I well, almost always
"I want my life to be with you!" |
"Im shopping, duh!" She said, the laughter still edging her voice.
"Oh. Right. Stupid question." I knew that Id been watching her. She hadnt changed, not really. Still the same sweet Buffy
"And..." she said, "You?"
I returned the smile. "Dinner." I said.
Her smile drooped a little. I realized what it sounded like...
"Food, Buffy, not people."
She chuckled, "That's a relief."
"Care to join me?"
"Sure. What's on the menu?"
"What do you feel like?"
She shrugged. It was beautiful, and so funny, to see such a tough gesture made by her tiny shoulders.
"Whatever. Mexican?"
Hot and spicy. Like her.
"Mexican it is."
I offered her my arm. It was corny, but one of those "gentleman's" habits I never could shake. Escorting the ladies... Not that I was ever a gentleman in life, or escorted many who could be considered "ladies"...
She accepted, tucking her little hand in the crook of my elbow. We walked an easy pace...languid, relaxed in one another's familiar company. After over two years of separation, after all the things that had happened between us before that, shouldn't this be awkward? It wasn't. I felt like I was walking with my life's mate...
"How are you?" she asked, smiling up at me.
"Fine. Great. Business is booming. I've been up here for a couple of days checking out a lead."
"And?"
"Nothing. Just a rumor..."
"That's why they call it the 'rumor mill'."
I smiled at her.
"Funny." I said.
"I know." She grinned. So self-assured...
We walked in silence for a few minutes. A million thoughts jumbled in my head, and I couldn't wrap my mind around a single one. At least, not one that I could express without embarrassing myself, or her, and ruining this perfect moment...
I'd forgotten, almost, how strong he is. I could feel it, like a current, as I gripped his arm. But he was so gentle... always such a gentleman... always thinking of me, of my comfort, my safety...
Walking like that, with him... it was the first time I'd felt safe... felt supported, in years...
"How's the Hellmouth?" He asked. Safe territory. Smart Angel. Dodge the tough stuff, stick to shop-talk.
"Hellish. Well, actually, lately it's been kind of slow. I talked the Warden into granting me a reprieve..."
"Good for you. How is Giles?" His tone was light, but I could hear the guilty edge, the self-reproach, that he tried to hide. It always snuck in when he talked about my Watcher.
"Like Giles. Only more so. He's been rebuilding the library, reading dire prophecies, drinking tea... You know..."
He nodded. We went down a short hill, and he steered us to a cute little restaurant, painted outside in bright blues, reds, yellows and greens, down in the basement of one of the shops.
"Leave it to you to find a Mexican place underground " I joked.
"They serve a good lunch " he shot back.
Days were long for him, cooped up and sleepless. He liked to be active. Always found places to go and things to do where daylight couldnt touch him if he wandered out before sunset.
The door tinkled as he opened it, holding it while I passed through. The restaurant was dimly lit, the air filled with the sounds of soft Spanish guitar music and the low conversation of the patrons.
"I like it." I said, savoring the smell of frying meat, tomatoes, chilies and tortilla.
"It beats Taco Bell." He said, choosing a table and holding out a chair for me. I shot him a look, and sat.
A fat little lady with shining black hair and a greasy apron approached us, speaking rapid-fire Spanish that left me, after four years studying it, without a clue.
Boca Del Inferno only Spanish that jumped right to my mind. I stared dumbly at the waitress. She stared at me, obviously waiting for my response.
But Angel was speaking to her smoothly, his accent perfect... Id forgotten that Spanish was one of the five or six language he spoke fluently
The little woman laughed at something he said, and chucked him under the chin before handing him a menu and waddling away.
I watched her go, then turned to look at him, "What did you say?"
"I told her the food must be extra good tonight, considering how beautiful she looked."
A charmer, Angel. But when had this effusive public-him appeared? He used to be so quiet, so introspective, so pensive. Friendly, but guarded and certainly never a flirt
"Uh huh." I said
I dont know where it came from, the urge to joke with the restaurant owner, Rosa. She had always been kind to me, and I was feeling drunk on Buffys presence a rare and beautiful high I guess I wanted to share the joy I felt, just knowing she was near.
I didnt bother looking at the menu--Rosa would know what to bring for me--so I handed it to Buffy. I watched her as she read it, her eyes quickly scanning the choices, a serious look of concentration knitting her perfect brow. Serious Buffy is as beautiful, if not more so, than Happy Buffy. She has an aura of certainty, of power, around her when shes thinking its intoxicating.
I felt like I hadnt seen her in a hundred years, instead of only a little over two it was like slaking a devouring hunger I thought might never be satisfied. I thought a lot of things loving things, longing things, happy things some dark things inappropriate to share
She looked up from the menu. "Youre staring at me." She observed.
I shook my head to clear it I had been imagining her warm lips, her strong, soft hands
"Sorry." I said, but I wasnt.
She smiled a little. "No big." She set the menu down, "Poppers. Taco Salad. And Sangria. Lots of it."
That was new. "When did you start drinking?" I asked her.
She shrugged, but didnt answer. She cast her eyes down, and I could see the reason etched on her features, her heart clear to read for anyone who could see:
To dull the pain. The pain of her life, the pain of losing me. The pain of feeling so lost
I felt awful. Instinctively, I reached across the table to take her hand. The touch was like a jolt of electricity. She raised her sorrowful eyes, met my gaze
Of all the pain Ive caused in all of my long life, all the misery and disaster Id wrought on innocent people, the hurt I had caused Buffy was the worst of all Because I loved her, and I knew better. I knew love wasnt supposed to be that way. For a woman like Buffy, it should be blue skies and flowers, love songs and holding hands not darkness, not constant uncertainty, not fear
"Instead of this this freak show " |
Of all the reasons I had to hate myself, crushing Buffys radiant innocence and joy for living was the deepest.
"Im sorry." I told her. For so many things for not being able to stay by your side and love you The last went unspoken
A door slammed shut over the pain in her eyes.
"For what?" She chirped with fake happiness.
I couldnt tell him that some Friday nights I holed up in my apartment, turned off the phone, locked the door, and got rip-roaring drunk and cried. I mean, the kind of crying that makes you feel like your chest and stomach might rip open and spill your miserable guts on the floor the kind of sobbing that sounds pathetic and frightening, like a dying animal
I couldnt tell him how much I suffered for him, every minute of every day, and especially at night the night reminded me so much of him, dark and shadowed and full of mystery It reminded me of all the time wed spent there together, under the stars and the moon Id come to hate the night, now, which was ironic, considering how much of my life was spent crawling in it
I couldnt tell him, and believe me, I wanted to. I had no one who I could share this particular pain with no one who could both understand and be sympathetic no one except him, and I didnt have him anymore. I wanted to tell him almost needed to. But it would hurt him so much, when all he had done, he did because he thought it was best for me and the last thing Angel needs is more pain
So I put on the Happy Buffy face Id been perfecting, and pretended that everything was great.
Im DYING my heart sobbed, Im dying without you
His look of soft compassion, of his own pain and the knowledge of mine, didnt waver, and I wondered if he heard me if his heart was listening to mine
"Really, Angel. Everything is great. Slayings a laugh-a-minute, the gangs all doing fantastic, school is going better than I hoped "
I was babbling, telling him shallow truths to hide my deeper lie
"Everythings fine." I repeated.
He clearly didnt believe me. He knew me far too well I wondered what the gang had told him I wondered if hed spoken to my mom, or to Giles they might have a different story to paint they might ruin my attempts to hide
It was the first time I noticed the shadows under her eyes the tired frown lines beginning to etch themselves around her mouth they were carefully covered with makeup, but I knew her face well enough to see them anyway, in this merciless light
She obviously wasnt going to tell me the truth. For the moment, I decided to go along with her ruse.
"Thats good to hear." I said, "Did you finally get a hang of the calc?" I was struggling, trying to respect her by skirting the issue that most plagued my mind. So I dug up bits and pieces of her new life Id gotten from her letters, form Cordelia, from Giles
She was glad I took this direction, I could see it in her face. But she was still apprehensive, knowing my questions about her welfare still lurked beneath the surface of this simple conversation.
"Oh yeah," she assured me, "Willows been pounding it into my thick skull. I got a C+ on my first exam!"
It was like an Olympic gold medal, to Buffy.
"And youre youre being careful " I said.
"Im not dating." She said automatically.
Not what I meant, but an interesting factoid. A buoying one, in one way a depressing one in another - I didnt want her to be lonely
"Thats not what I meant." I told her.
"Oh. Slaying. Right. Of course. Im always careful."
She was lying there, too. Giles had told me Buffy was taking stupid chances a lot, these days, going without rest, not eating, backing herself into corners, getting into situations she couldnt possibly get out of without risking her life
I wasnt going to let this go on. I was worried about her - time to call her bluff. Time to call the real her back to the surface
But just then, Rosa reappeared, grinning happily as she set a plate of tortilla chips and homemade salsa between us.
"The usual, pretty one?" She asked me in Spanish.
"Yes, thank you. Plus an order of poppers, a taco salad, and sangria, for the lady." I replied, also in Spanish. I love the way the language feels, rolling off my tongue. Its one of my favorites.
Rosa gave Buffy a quick once-over, "Do you think thats wise?" she said, "Sangria is a monster for little people "
"Its what she wants." I told her. And Buffy always gets what she wants
Rosa shrugged and waddled away again. I turned back to look at Buffy. The candlelight flickered in her green eyes
"Buffy " I said. How was I going to go about this? How could I get her to really open up about her pain? How could I get her to talk to me, after so long? I knew firsthand how loneliness settles over you, at first like a soft, comforting cloak. Over time it becomes a prison of stone, and you are unable to reach out even when you want to
He saw right through me. He tried to play along I watched him struggle to make small talk, but he definitely had something face - that look he always got when he wasnt saying what he was really thinking
I had to get out. I had to run. There was no way I was going here, no way I was going to let the beast of sadness I had trapped inside of me run free
I looked into his eyes after he said my name. Theyre the most incredible shade of brown, like liquid chocolate, so expressive and deep. So full of compassion and understanding so full of love
But I wouldnt know what to say, even if I wanted to tell him. It all sounded pathetic and childish and whiney, begging for something that didnt exist anymore, if it ever had at all when what I should do is suck it up, learn my lessons, and move on.
I was stuck. Stuck in my sorry shell of an excuse for a life, as well as in this moment
The waitress came back, setting our food down on the table and pouring me a glass of sangria, accompanied by a disapproving glance, before saying something Im sure was derogatory to Angel, and waddling away again.
She was motherly toward him. Protective. Disapproving of me, the little lush. In a way, I was glad.
I gulped down that first glass, letting the numbing heat flow through me, steeling me, and then immediately poured another.
"So what about you?" I said, taking the reins again, "Hows the soul-saving business?"
"Fine. I told you." He said curtly. He must be worried he rarely lost his patience with me.
"You must be a big hit with the ladies." It was meant to be a joke, but it still sunk like a stone. His eyes flashed.
"I dont date, either." He said, as if he was horrified I had suggested such a thing was possible. "And speaking of which, why dont you? Cordelia mentioned someone "
"Finn." That was all I planned to say on that matter. Angel didnt need to know what Finn and I had gone through how hard he had tried to get through to me how Id broken his heart
Buffys eyes clouded over at the kids name. I knew it was an underhanded tactic, on my part, but I had to get her to talk, even if it was to tell me to shut up and mind my own business. We had to get past this bullshit chit chat.
She downed her second drink, then her third. Buffy has the constitution of a marble ox, but any idiot could see her face softening with intoxication, her body wavering unsteadily.
I felt like I was being sucked into a vortex (ouch, not a good metaphor) of something something nerve wracking something out of my control. I was concerned for Buffy; I missed her presence in my life more than I could express I was so glad to be with her I hated watching her self-destruct before my eyes. I was a walking bundle of contradiction
"Easy, there." I said. She was getting drunk, and with the mood between us becoming what it was, that added to it could only be a bad thing. People lose their senses when theyre drinking they get stupid and careless, saying and doing things they dont mean. Or that they mean, but shouldnt express.
She shot me a look that told me to mind my own business.
"I can lie to you, if I want to. Were ex, remember?" |
I ate to occupy myself. The food was excellent, as usual, but I wasnt enjoying it.
"Tell me about Finn." I said, as she worked on another drink, her food ignored.
"Whats to tell? Went to the movies, slayed a few vamps, didnt work out. End of story."
I was flailing around for a way to reach out to her that wouldnt cause her to slam shut like a vice.
"Ah." I said. That wasnt it. Brilliant.
"Im not much interested in guys." She was slurring her words a little, now. "I mean, whats the point? Its just a hassle for everybody concerned. I dont need any more complications."
More complications like me. I thought.
This was going downhill, fast. Buffy had drained the bottle of Sangria and ordered another, ignoring Rosas grim glare.
"Maybe we should go for a walk." I suggested, "Its a nice night."
She shrugged. "Whatever." She finished her glass.
I paid for the meal, thanking Rosa. She said, flat out, "I told you. Shes trouble, that one. Faery blood or some such. Cursed."
I ignored her, and went back to the table to help Buffy up. She needed it. She could barely stand. We walked out into the night, the cool air washing over us, relieving some of the tension that had built over dinner.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, letting Buffy stagger along on her own. I couldnt touch her, or I might not be able to overcome the urge I had to grab her, to shake her to yell at her for throwing away the gift I had given her the gift of my absence the chance at a normal life. She was throwing it away, wallowing in self-pity, drowning in a bottle, taking suicidal chances... I was angry.
He was obviously angry, and we walked along in brooding silence. I admit, I was trashed, and everything that was happening seemed that much more overwhelming Being near him I cant describe the feeling I had, having his huge body beside me. I wanted to run into his arms and just cry just let him comfort me, the way he used to
Then, I just wanted to throw up, which I did. Angel rubbed my back while I wretched, held back my hair for me
"God, Im sorry." I said, standing back up and wiping my face with the back of my hand.
"Where are you staying? Ill walk you home." He said.
So, that was it. Some reunion. I told him where I had a room, and he held my arm to steady me as we covered the five block walk in record time, despite my lurching and staggering.
I invited him into my room, and went to wash up.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I was ashamed.
"Who are you?" I asked myself.
I was Broken Buffy, thats who. Lonely Buffy. Lost Buffy. Stupid Buffy. Acting like a drunken sorority chick, making an ass out of myself in front of the one man I really didn't have to defend myself against. The only man I'd ever loved... ever really trusted...
What must he be thinking about me?
I sat on the bed, taking in the room. Buffy... I could hear the shower start, and I was relieved that she had the presence of mind to take one... But if she wasn't out in 10 minutes, I'd have to go in after her. I was afraid she'd drown...
But she came out in less than five, clean and wrapped in a thick hotel robe two sizes too large for her. She looked so much like a little girl, my heart broke.
She was embarrassed, it was clear on her face... I didn't want her to be... she didn't need to be, not really. I knew how she was feeling. I still loved her, despite her stupid behavior.
Ooo. That was something new... I don't think I'd thought "love" and "Buffy" at the same time in I don't know how long. It always hurt too much.
It hurt now. I loved her... loved her intensely and completely as she staggered across the room and sat heavily on the bed beside me, her head hung low.
I drank in every detail of her... her skin so clean it glowed, scented softly with purfumy hotel soap... her long hair dripping down her back, soaking the robe... her perfectly pedicured little feet poking out from beneath...
I watched a droplet of water run over her brow, dribble down her cheek, and splash softly in her half-exposed cleavage...
So beautiful. So young and full of life... so sad...
I reached out and took her hand. Electricity again...
This was the only time I felt alive, when I was with her. It had been a long time since I'd felt it.
"Are you okay?" I asked. She nodded.
"I'm sorry." she said again. But now, tears began to fall down her cheeks. My soul sobbed itself at the sight. I never wanted to see Buffy sad... I'd spent my last bit of life trying to make sure she could be happy. But what I'd done seemed to have had the opposite effect.
I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop myself. I took her into my arms and cradled her as she wailed into my shoulder.
He kissed my hair, whispering soothing words...
"It's okay. I'm here. It's okay..." It was like a chant... a litany of prayer... it made me cry harder for missing him so much...
"I miss you, Angel! I love you so much!" I cried, muffled only slightly by the sleeve of his coat. He smelled like wool and Mexican food, and now, like my shampoo...
"Shhhh." he whispered, stroking my back.
"I can't do this! I can't keep pretending everything is okay without you! Everybody says it'll get better and it never does. It keeps getting WORSE!"
He held me closer, lay his cheek on top of my head. "It's okay..."
"No! It's NOT OKAY! It's never okay! Not for even a minute! I think about you all the time! I can't stop! I know I should, I try, but I can't!"
It was all coming out, now, years of pain, years of longing, years of feeling so dead inside I seemed to spend all my time going out of my way to make it so...
I cried forever, heaving, broken sobs... I cried so hard my head felt it might split open...
"I love you, Angel. I need you. Please..."
Please what? What was I asking him for? I didn't know. I pulled away and looked into his eyes. He was crying too...
"Oh." I said, wiping his tears away, "I'm sorry. Don't cry."
He smiled, even through his tears. "I never meant to hurt you, Buffy..."
"I know." I said, beginning to make little choking noises again, "It's not your fault... you did what you thought was best for both of us..." I rest my hand on his cheek and we looked into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity...
"I do miss you." he said, finally, "I've never stopped missing you... loving you..."
There it was. What I needed to hear. What I wanted so, so much to hear...
"I love you, Angel..." She breathed, and I saw some life rekindled in her eyes. I wanted to die, turn to dust right there in that moment, surrounded by all that love, all that pain. My sweet Buffy...
I was terrified. We were rushing headlong into the very place I had fought so hard for both of us to stay away from...
Our gazes were locked, frozen together, our tears blinding us, our blood, our souls, our shared pain binding us...
Before I knew what I was doing, I was kissing her... we both sobbed into one anothers lips... It hurt to touch her, to want her again, so much...
What had I done? What was I doing? I was desperate for her, for the feel of her, the taste of her... My hands were suddenly everywhere, in her hair, beneath her robe, on her back, her shoulders... my lips drank her in... the sweet ambrosia of her lips, her skin... I kissed away her tears and the remaining damp from the shower...
I cried like a baby.
"Angel... Angel..." she whispered. Her breath was quickening, although her tears didn't slow, and her hands caressed me in return, her fingers running through my hair, brushing my face, tracing soft lines down my back...
Gods...gods... I could feel my desire pounding through me... I felt out of control, unfocused, like a starving animal...
I wanted her. I wanted to be one with her. I wanted it so much I thought I might explode into dust just from the blazing heat of it...
Then, some part of me... the wise, ancient part of me, reawoke and stood out of the haze , forcing me to pull away... to stop touching her... to stop smothering her with my kisses...
He pulled away, and it was like something tore within me. I whined a little in objection. I wanted him... all of him... and damn the consequences...
'Exactly', said Sane Buffy, from somewhere deep inside me, 'Damned.'
I released him reluctantly.
"We can't do this, Buffy..." he said.
I would have damned him myself if he hadn't already been there, done that...
To be separated from him again... I felt sure it would kill me. Where a thousand fanged, taloned creatures couldn't make my heart skip a beat, my body pulling away from his... that might rip me to shreds.
"Wha...", I said, "Why What?" I was confused, befuddled, on fire, and was still more than a little drunk.
He pulled back further, his gentle hands rearranging my robe, brushing wet wisps of hair out of my eyes...
"We can't do this." He said again, more softly, but with more conviction. His face seemed almost flushed, and I could see how aroused he was...
He was right. We didn't know what might happen if we went any further. And what good could possibly come from it, after? The reminders of the eternal distance between us, emotional and physical, were like cold water splashed over me.
"I know." I whispered, turning away.
He raised my face in his hand and looked deeply into my eyes... I saw the fire there, fire and love, longing, regret... eternal regret...
"I'm sorry." He said it, this time.
"I know."
"No, I mean it. You can't know how sorry I am..." his voice dropped to softer than a breath, "How much I want you. But we can't. It's not right. You're drunk and we don't know what might happen..."
"Angel." I put my fingertip to his lips... I remembered doing it once before... How could two such similar moments be so different? "I know. You don't have to be sorry. I know..."
We sat, holding hands, staring at each other for a long time, remembering...
"This can't..." "When I kiss you, you don't wake up from a deep sleep and live happily ever after..." "Kiss me..." "I love you. I try not to, but I can't stop..." "I want my life to be with you!" "I can't let you die!" "When this is over, if we survive, I'm not going to say goodbye. I'm just gonna go." |
I knew this moment couldn't last forever. I knew he would go soon, and tear my heart from my chest once again.
"I should go..." he said finally. I knew it...
"Don't. Please, stay with me?" I was groggy and dizzy and wanted to lie down so badly... but I couldn't. I wouldn't, knowing that he would leave while I slept, and I would wake in the morning to find him gone...
He looked at me seriously. I could see the confusion in his eyes... the tearing battle between his desire for me and his need to do the right thing...
"Just be here..." I went on, trying to make myself more clear, "Just be with me... watch over me? Like you used to?"
He smiled... a tiny, sad smile, and nodded. "Okay. I'll stay."
I wanted to, and I didn't want to... What would staying accomplish, but to hurt ourselves more? I couldn't touch her, couldn't hold her, couldn't...
But what she wanted, deep down, was really so simple... I couldn't deny her this one comfort... and I had to admit it -- couldn't deny it to myself...
"Watch over me? Like you used to?" her voice was soft, her eyes pleading.
"Okay, I'll stay."
I rose and turned down the covers, then turned my back while she took off the robe and climbed in the bed. I heard the mattress give under her weight. She sighed deeply, and I heard the whisper of the blankets pulled up over her.
"Okay." She said, letting me know she was ready. I turned around, and my heart almost broke once again. I felt the tears threatening, just behind my eyes... She looked so small, so young and fragile, tucked in tight under the big comforter...
I crouched down, so we were almost face to face... I brushed her forehead lightly with my fingertips... her eyes were blinking rapidly, and I could tell she would be unconscious soon.
I stood again, took off my great coat, and laid it over the back of the chair, moving to the other side of the bed to lay next to her. She snuggled up as close to me as she could, with the blankets between us. I propped myself up on my elbow and stay perfectly still, as still as only one who needs no breath, no heartbeat, might... I looked down with worship at her beautiful profile...
She reached out and turned off the light, then rolled over to look at me in the dark, knowing I could see...
"I love you, Angel...Thanks."
I smiled, tapping the tip of her nose with my forefinger. It was such an intimate, automatic gesture on my part, it wrenched my heart...
"Don't thank me. I love you, too..." I let that hang in the air. It was the only explanation I could give her. And I knew it wasn't enough...
She rolled the rest of the way over and snuggled into my chest. I put my arm around her and held her close, breathing in her scent, memorizing the feeling of her body against mine...
She was asleep in a moment, snoring softly. The sound brought a small, rare smile to my heart... My Buffy... Always My Buffy...
I stayed there, holding her, until right before dawn. With all my might I wished for a way for us to be together again... but my curse and my wisdom reminded me that there was no way. There was too much standing between us.
Hope isn't a good thing to invest in, when you're me. But I did it anyway, laying there, wide awake in the dark, listening to the crickets and the nightbirds and the soft sleeping sounds of my heart's mate...
When I woke, well after noon the next day, he was gone. Angel was the night... appearing softly as sunset, disappearing in a cloud before sunrise...
I sighed loudly, then moaned at the sharp echo it caused in my head. The size of my headache was the only proof I had that last night had happened at all...
I got up, glad that he had thought to draw the shades before he left... he probably stayed much longer than he should have... and I was glad the room was still soothingly dark. He had arranged other things, too... a bucket next to the bed, a tray of ice, a glass, two Alka Seltzers, a fistful of Motrin next to the sink... and a piece of hotel stationary, decorated by his fine, careful script...
I debated... lessen the hangover, or read the letter? Well, if I died from my head exploding, which it was threatening to do, I might never get to read it anyway. I plop-plop, fizz-fizzed, refilled the glass with clean water and ice, gulped that down with the pills, then picked up the smooth sheet of paper and brought it back with me as I crawled back into the bed.
"Buffy: It's hard for me to explain how I feel about what happened tonight... The past two years have been so difficult, without you... Of course, it's obvious you know how that feels... I don't know what all this means...where we go from here, only that we can't remain in this limbo anymore... I can't hurt like this, and I can't stand to let you keep hurting... So, I will see you soon, somehow...if only to talk... Please, take care of yourself, Buffy. You are so important to me... Always, |
I looked up and around the room, as if I'd heard him speaking.
The pain that had been haunting my heart the last few years was suddenly, with no warning, just gone.
I'd see him again, soon.
I would find a way. If it took the rest of my days, I would find a way...
~FIN~
The Homecoming Trilogy, Part 2
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