Shattered Fairytale

Chapter One
**

One year later

Buffy lay on her old bed in her mother’s house, her arms wrapped around a pillow cuddling it. She still could not get over how much smaller her room seemed, maybe because of the crib and changing table now huddled in one corner or possibly she had just grown out of it over the years. Maybe she’d moved on to greener pastures and now her old life just didn’t fit.

Buffy remembered many nights her and Angel would spend in her old room, in her now present room. Buffy could easily recount a few heavy make out sessions they’d shared over the years; the taste of his soft lips on hers, the feel of his hands grabbing flesh needing to be closer, the smell of his scent one unique to Angel, the touch of soft smooth cold skin that would help cool the fire within her.

It had been a year since they’d split, their divorce was final, yet Buffy could not imagine life without her Angel. She still considered him to be her Angel. Everything felt like a dream, the situation too surreal. Buffy waited to wake up, waited for things to fall back into place, waited for the hurt and emptiness to go away.

They had that once in a lifetime love, the stuff fairytales were made of. He’d been her other half. A vampire in love with a slayer, theirs was a maudlin sort of love. They’d overcome so many obstacles, fate nor death could keep them apart. She’d sent him to hell and that didn’t work. Than he became human, and trivial obstacles were gone, they could finally truly be happy, completely be together without his curse dangling over their heads like a cruel piece of meat.

How was she supposed to live her life, move on, with the knowledge of everything they had? Three beautiful children came from their love. How could he just give that all away?

Maybe she had been at fault, maybe she should have said something earlier on when she’d initially suspected it. She had wanted to believe that if she didn’t think of it, that if she just stayed in denial than it would all go away. It’d be a fluke, a one time deal. Maybe she had caused it.

Buffy had been going around in circles for the past couple of hours. She knew she should stop obsessing about it, she knew it’d been a year and she should have moved on, she just couldn’t. The heart was a funny thing.

A soft knock on her door drew her from her thoughts. A redhead popped into her room not giving Buffy a chance to order the intruder away. Her friend looked much too bubbly and cheerful for Buffy’s taste; it did not mix well with her doom and gloom.

“Your mother let me in.” Willow stated, her voice sounding nervous. Fiddling with the warm cup in her hand, the object dawned on her, “Oh, this is for you.” She added setting the coffee cup on Buffy’s nightstand after a few moments.

“I’m really tired.” Buffy stated. It wasn’t an outright lie, mentally she was tired. She was tired of feeling like she did, she was tired of crying, and she was tired of missing him. If it weren’t for her children Buffy was scared to even fathom what she’d of done to herself by now. She had been hanging on a thread for the past year and the only things that kept her there dangling were her kids.

“I won’t stay long, just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” Willow looked at her friend pitying her. She’d never seen Buffy this bad. Not even when Angel left her after graduation; although this did seem more final, a divorce and not just a breakup.

She’d lost a lot of weight too Willow noted, and in only a couple of weeks. She could see her shoulder blades pop out of the cotton white tee as Buffy lay sideways on the bed. Her eyes looked sullen and lifeless, dark circles framing them.

“Just tired.” Buffy answered trying to put on a happy demeanor if only so her friend wouldn’t worry as much. She knew Willow could see right through her, but if she could just pretend maybe things would be better. If she could just pretend to be happy maybe she could fool herself.

She was tired of this roller coaster; she was tired of the ups and downs. She was tired of pretending. It was too hard. She didn’t have the energy any more. She was tired of the whirlwind emotions. One minute she’d feel as if she were finally getting over everything, and than a familiar scent or sound and her life would once again cave in, her metaphorical string that she’d been dangling on would start to tear a little more.

“Your mother said she was taking the kids to the playground,” Willow started fiddling with the hem of her bright orange fuzzy shirt, suddenly becoming very nervous around the slightly overly hormonal ex-slayer, especially with all the large objects scattered around. Willow had become found of her head. “I figured fresh air and Starbuck’s would do some good.”

Willow seeing Buffy about to protest quickly continued, “Joyce thinks it’s a good idea too, there’s a towel in the bathroom for you waiting.”

Buffy didn’t have the strength or will to decline, it’d be easier this way. Shutting her eyes for a brief second Buffy inhaled the lingering scent of Angel on her pillow. He was still there after all these years.

**

“I can’t do this anymore.” The blonde, leggy woman stated pushing herself away from Angel.

“Really, you’re done?” Angel questioned, thinking it strange for her not to want to continue, they’d only been having sex for the past twenty minutes. Shrugging it off trying not to think of his achy member still begging for more, he pulled the girl close to him.

Rolling out of his embrace once again Carrie fumbled around the room picking up her discarded clothing. “No, I can’t do us anymore.” At his confused look Carrie took a deep breath, “Listen it was fun while it lasted but…” She trailed off trying to think of the right words, “But that’s all I wanted, fun.” She finally finished quickly pulling up her slightly ripped throng. Having given up on finding her bra she pulled her dress over her head. Collecting her heels she walked out of the bedroom door.

Angel sat in the bed mentally going over everything that had just transpired.

This was the part where he was supposed to run after her, Angel understood that. He should fight for her, for them. But he didn’t. He sat numb in bed listening to the ticking from the grandfather clock down the hall and the sound of Carrie’s heels clicking on the marble floor as she echoed out of his house and his life. He was supposed to run after her. He should fight for her. He’d fought for Buffy.

Angel’s mind flashed back to that moment. The moment his life had crumbled under him- and with no one to blame but his self. He remembered the numbness; time stood still, the world faded around him. All he could see was her. He had tried to get up, tried to move away from Carrie, tried to hide what he’d been doing, but he couldn’t. His muscles were lead, heavy and slow. He couldn’t get up fast enough. Buffy wasn’t supposed to have seen them.

He watched as Buffy gasped, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes wide. He saw the pain, the pain he’d caused. He saw her anger, the fire in her eyes, and her confusion as to what was happening. He saw her surprise and hurt. He saw her flinch at his touch when he finally made it over to her. He remembered her fists as they ground into his skin, taking each thud wishing it hurt more. She could have killed him, he wanted her to; he wished she had. He’d destroyed the only things that mattered in his life for his own selfish wants.

Three beautiful children and a wife. There had been a time when that had been all he’d ever wanted. Looking back now he could not remember why he’d risked everything. He could not remember why he’d ever wanted to let go of Buffy, of his children, of his reason for being.

He knew the first time had been the hardest. Angel almost could not even go through with it. It had gotten easier though. Angel also knew Buffy was aware of his extra circular activities. He’d thought of excuses and lies, but she’d never asked about his after hour affairs. Every late meeting, every business trip, she knew what was going on and she didn’t say anything. That might have been why he continued. Angel wasn’t sure. It was so long ago.

He just wished he could remember why he’d done it. His mind had grown hazy. He loved and always would love, Buffy. When he was with her sexually and non, he felt as if he were floating on cloud nine. She was his other half. And although Angel did not believe in a lot of things, mostly due to his two hundred plus years of existence, the day he met Buffy he believed in one- destiny.

She had given his life purpose; she’d given him a reason to live when he needed one most. She’d showed him how to live and love. She taught him how to trust and give of yourself entirely. He’d seen her put her life on the line more times than imaginable knowing she’d never get the credit she deserved. He watched as flourished with each new obstacle she faced, as she grew stronger. She’d been the light of his life and he’d put it out.

Looking back now, Angel wished he had done things different. He wished he could have taken back those years and nights with Carrie. Wished he would have fought harder for Buffy. If he had begged more, if he had promised harder maybe she’d be in his arms. He’d hurt the people that meant the most to him, he just wished he could take it back.

He was supposed to run after Carrie, he should fight for her. But he couldn’t. He didn’t. Carrie wasn’t Buffy. She just wasn’t worth fighting for.

**

Buffy juggled the shopping bags in one hand as she pushed her falling sunglasses back on top of her head. She wanted to leave. She’d been dragged to the mall, which was crowded and noisy; she just wanted to go home.

“One more store.” Willow promised, eyeing the Barnes and Nobles only a few feet away. She’d never been a big shopper, she still wasn’t, but this was the first time Buffy had been out of the house since the divorce became final. Joyce had even been taking the children to school the last week.

“It’s getting late.” Was all Buffy said; shopping had at one point in time been able to lift her spirits. Now, with three full bags in her hand and a few hundred dollars less in her bank account she was just as miserable as she had been this morning. There were not enough cashmere sweaters and light washed distressed jeans in the world to put a smile on her face.

“I’ll be fast, I promise.” Willow stated turning into the store.

Buffy said nothing, just followed. This had been his store; Buffy remembered being dragged in this store more than once because of Angel. She hated thinking about him, hated how everything reminded her of him.

She wondered if subconsciously she’d been trying to hold on to her first love. Angel was that, he’d taken her virginity in so many things Buffy felt that the fact made it harder to let go of him, made it harder for her to want to let go of him. Because when she finally did, let go and move on, things were final. There was no turning back. She just didn’t want things to be over. She wanted him back, knowing they never could go back. How could she ever trust him? How could she ever forgive him for what he did?

She’d been so preoccupied in her thoughts she had completely missed Willow bumping into the young man who had been crouched on the floor in front of an aisle of books and fell as well to the ground on the heap of people and books.

All three people scurried off the ground, helping each other up in the process.

“I’m so sorry- I was- and than…” Willow stuttered feeling like she’d been transported back in time to her early years of high school.

The man who Willow and Buffy had just tripped over smiled, showcasing his pearly whites, “No it’s completely my fault.” Running his hand through his shaggy dark brown hair he continued, “I really should have picked another seat.”

Willow noted how gorgeous the man was, and how said gorgeous man kept eyeing Buffy. Inwardly she squealed in delight at how perfect this was.

“I guess I should introduce myself, John Logan,” The tall dark haired man introduced extending his hand for the two girls to take.

“I’m Willow,” Willow replied looking over at Buffy’s direction seeing her friend staring off into the distance she continued, “And this is Buffy,” She finished for her friend.

“I do hope we bump into each other again.” John said, stressing his pun.

“Oh, uh yes.” Buffy replied, feeling two sets of eyes on her, unsure of exactly what she missed but not missing Willow’s pointed looks. They’d been friends for too long; Buffy knew exactly what Willow was thinking. Buffy knew Willow was hinting at the blonde woman to go for it with this man.

Giving him a once over, Buffy did admit that he was attractive, he had the dark and handsome thing going for him, but unlike Angel’s mystery this man had more of a southern charm. He was attractive though; Buffy could not help but notice the lack of body fat on the man, or the tattoo that stuck out from the bottom of his red polo. She resisted the urge to touch his bicep and trace the outline of the black ink embedded in his arm.

Buffy took her attention away from John’s arm and looked back over to Willow who has busily scribbling something down on a scrap piece of paper. As Willow gave the paper to John, Buffy’s eyes widened realizing what exactly Willow was doing. Hoping and praying to every god that would listen that Willow wasn’t giving that man her number. Willow wouldn’t do that, she knew Buffy wasn’t ready, Willow wasn’t that cruel.

She watched horrified as the paper switched hands and owners, Buffy powerless to stop the impending evil. It wasn’t as if she could ask for it back, or could she? And her children, she had three kids to consider, and even if Buffy had been ready to date, her kids were not ready for that. She wasn’t ready for that. That was what it all boiled down to. At least not yet.

Chapter Two

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