Author's Note: This is a fic based upon Buffy and Angel's interaction in "Forever". You know me; I always expand upon what's already in an episode. Moreover, I'm a shipper. Gotta have the mushy romance, even if there's angst or what have you. Okay, so, this is my take on it. Thanks to the Buffy Shooting Script Site for getting the script posted so quickly. It helped me not paraphrase or sit in front of my VCR scribbling away re-watching the same scene 65 million times. The characters aren't mine; they belong to the Almighty Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, blah blah blah. The song is by Loreena McKennitt, so, it's not mine either. Thanks to Lady Callie for beta-ing. Enjoy the show kids!
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It was nearly five in the morning. Buffy had been awake for hours. Actually, she'd never really gone to bed. She hadn't slept since Joyce died; not really. She couldn't. She couldn't handle closing her eyes and seeing the image of her mother's dead body. Nor could she handle closing her eyes and seeing glimpses of what was or what might have been. Buffy the Vampire Slayer couldn't live that way. She couldn't live in a world of delusions. Her mother was gone.
Of course, she knew she wasn't really coping with it. She'd been like a determined businessperson from the moment she and Dawn had been in the morgue, alone, with Joyce's dead, naked, autopsied body. Before, Buffy had been in shock. However, at that moment, seeing her mother's empty shell, and Dawn's emotionally battered form staring mournfully down at it, Buffy knew she had to be strong. She had to appear strong, at the very least. As much as she wanted to curl up and cry for the rest of her life, Buffy knew she couldn't. Because if she did, she knew that she would never stop, and nothing would get done. She knew that the gang and Giles would have made arrangements for her to help her out, but she couldn't let them. It was *her* mother; she had to do the planning.
Buffy was furious at her father for not calling. For not caring. For not coming. Truly, Buffy hadn't really wanted him there. He hadn't been in her life for the past five years, with the exception of that one weekend after the kid with the waking nightmares. The only reason she had called him was for Dawn's sake. She needed him. She needed a big strong man to hug, beat, and weep to. Buffy wondered, though, if her father would even know Dawn, even remember her. When the monks had sent Dawn to Buffy, they had altered the memories of everyone who would interact with her. Did they take into consideration the absentee father who never interacted with his first daughter? The phone call to her father had just been the first in a string of phone calls. Business. No emotion. Too hard.
There was one phone call, however, Buffy had not been able to make yet. She needed a big strong man too, someone she could hug and beat and weep to. Buffy knew that she could not go one much longer s the unemotional robot. Because the robot was merely suppressing all the emotions Buffy felt about the loss of her mother. Buffy knew that without some kind of help, she was not going to make it through the night. She had considered running away again. She had even considered suicide, fleetingly. Mostly, Buffy just thought that she would die from the overwhelming grief she knew was going to rush upon her once there was nothing else to do.
With shaking hand, Buffy reached out and picked up her phone. For a long time, she just listened to the dial tone. When it changed over to the annoying recorded message from the telephone company, she slammed the phone down then winced, not wanting to wake Dawn. More quietly, Buffy picked up the phone again and dialed information.
"What city and state?" Came the automated voice.
Gulping, Buffy whispered, "Los Angeles, California."
"What listing?"
Buffy sighed, "Angel Investigations."
"One moment please."
The next thing she knew, the phone was ringing. Buffy nearly lost her nerve, and wanted to hang up, but something made her stop. She once again got lost in her own thoughts, entranced by the monotony of the ringing. She did not even notice that it had rung fifteen times. She just listened to the ringing. She knew Angel would pick up. She just had to wait.
Down in LA, Angel was helping Wesley, Cordelia and Gunn move their things out of their dingy rented office and back into the hotel. They had graciously allowed him to help, and accommodated him by doing their moving during the wee small hours of the morning. Now, the humans were getting rather exhausted as dawn approached. Angel had worked hurriedly to get everything done before the sun came up. He wanted, he *needed* to redeem himself in their eyes, especially Cordelia's.
Just as he set the last box down on the floor, the telephone began to ring shrilly. Out of habit, Angel stopped and waited for someone to answer it. Five rings. Six rings. No one did. Ten rings. Eleven rings. Cordelia looked at him exasperatedly from her position half-asleep on the couch. Fifteen rings. Sixteen rings. Angel winced. "Right." He quickly crossed the lobby and picked up the telephone on its twentieth ring.
"Hello?" he said with some uncertainty. "Angel Investigations. We help the-"
Buffy was startled when Angel finally picked up the phone. The endless ringing had lulled her. "Angel?" she said quickly, cutting him off.
"Buffy!" he exclaimed, startled. Wesley and Cordelia looked up. Cordelia immediately lost interest, but Wesley rose off the couch and crossed to Angel. He nodded to the worried vampire and Angel continued, "Buffy. How are you? Is something wrong? A demon?"
Buffy held back a hysterical and overemotional laugh that would have immediately turned into sobbing. She swallowed tears, again, and replied, "No Angel, not a demon."
He sighed in relief, "That's good." Then he heard the sadness, the abject despair in her voice. "Buffy, honey, what's wrong? Did something happen to Giles? Are Willow and Xander all right?"
"They're fine," Buffy replied flatly. She took a deep breath and held it, "It's my mother Angel. She's, she, I mean I... Angel, she's gone." Once again, she felt the tears threaten to overwhelm her.
Wesley gasped when he heard Buffy say that, as he was leaning in close to Angel's ear. He hurried back over to the couch and woke the dozing Cordelia, taking on himself to be the bearer of bad news.
Angel, for his part, felt his heart break, knowing Buffy must be falling apart. He was especially worried about her because she sounded so...detached. "I'm so sorry sweetie. How?"
Buffy sniffed back the tears, willing the dam not to break, "Uh, it was an aneurysm. She had brain cancer, and underwent surgery about a month ago. This was a potential complication; the doctors told her. But she..." Buffy's battle with her tears was failing. "She never told us. Angel, I came home and I found her, staring straight up. She was so cold. I couldn't-"
"Shhhh," Angel soothed, wishing he could instantly teleport himself to her side. He saw the sun starting to brighten the Los Angeles outside the front door and he cursed inwardly. Now he would not be able to make it to Sunnydale until dusk. Not that he would be any good to her anyway. Not if the funeral was during the daylight hours. "There was nothing you could have done," he said gently. "Do you want me to come up?" Angel ventured cautiously, wondering all the while where Riley was and why the bastard was not doing anything to take away her pain.
"Please Angel," Buffy replied. "I'm not going to be able to do this on my own. Dawn needs me to be strong."
Angel frowned, "Who's Dawn?"
Buffy sighed, "Oh right, you don't know. Well you see, she's-"
"It's not important," Angel said, cutting her off, knowing much more talking was going to cause her to break into uncontrollable weeping. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he told her. "And Buffy?"
"Yes?"
"I promise not to get in a fight with Riley." He thought the comment would alleviate some of the sadness, a weak attempt at a joke. He was wrong. His heart broke more when he heard Buffy's reply.
"No worries there. Riley left me right after my mother's surgery. He's back in the army."
"Oh, Buffy, honey, I'm sorry, I didn't-" Angel cursed himself for adding to her pain.
"It's okay," she told him listlessly. "You didn't know. I'll see you when you get here, okay?"
"Okay," Angel replied. "Buffy, I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but it's going to be okay."
"Yeah," Buffy said, sounding as though she didn't really believe a single damn word he said. "Bye Angel." She hung up and looked at the clock. Five-thirty. Only ten and a half more hours until the funeral.
When Angel hung up the phone, Cordelia and Wesley crossed to him.
"Is she all right?" Cordy asked, wiping a few tears from her eyes.
Angel shrugged and shook his head, turning to them, "No. She sounds like she's dying inside. You know how Buffy handles things like this. She cuts herself off emotionally."
"Or runs away," Cordelia added, wincing the moment the words left the mouth. "Sorry. Reflex."
Wesley put a hand on Angel's shoulder, "Do you want someone to go with you?"
Angel shook his head, "No, but, if you guys don't mind, I'm going to need you to blank out the windows on the convertible. I'd like to leave before dusk so I can get there the minute it gets dark." He felt bad asking them to do things but the car was parked on the street and the sun was beginning to rise.
Wesley nodded, "Of course. As soon as we get a bit of rest."
Angel nodded.
"Wesley and I are going to send flowers," Cordelia told him. "I would go, but I'm honestly too tired to make the drive. Plus, I don't want to risk having a vision in the middle of the service."
Angel smiled, "I'm sure they'll understand. Thank you Cordelia." She would not meet his gaze and quickly turned around. She was still unable to trust him. He had hurt her too much. Angel sighed. Another woman he had hurt.
*When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone*
Buffy stood at Joyce's grave, knees locked, hands clenched into fists, eyes unblinking. She couldn't believe she hadn't passed out by now. She wondered what it was that was keeping her upright. But somewhere she knew. Angel. She was waiting for him. He had said he would come and she knew he would. All she had to do now was wait. At least it gave her something else to do, so she didn't have to focus on the pain. She knew the minute it grew dark he would be there.
*I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars*
Angel parked his car at the edge of the cemetery gates and waited for the sun to completely set. From where he was, he could see Buffy, looking defeated and lifeless, even though she was standing. Her gaze was fixed at the gravesite, but he wondered if she was really seeing it. She wondered where her mind was. The sun went below the horizon and Angel slowly emerged from his car, silently crossing the grass until he was beside her.
Buffy sensed his presence, but did not speak. She did not even look at him. She couldn't tear her eyes away from her mother's grave.
Angel's heart broke to see her in such sorrow. "I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner," he said compassionately. For a moment, he thought she had not heard him, and he glanced over at her. Buffy nodded and without utterance slipped her tiny hand into his. He took it gladly and gave it a squeeze, trying to give her strength. The stood in silence for a long time, seemingly contemplating the grave. Angel could feel her trembling as he held her hand. Gently, he turned her to face him. "Buffy," he said gently, tipping her chin.
The tears welled in her eyes and she refused to meet his gaze. But Angel would not back down. "Buffy," he said again. "I'm here. You don't have to pretend anymore."
"No," Buffy said, teeth clenched. "I have to be strong. I have to be strong for her. For them. They need to see me be strong."
"Buffy," he said again. "You don't have to pretend to be strong anymore." He watched in sorrow as the tears spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks. Crying out in despair, Buffy sobbed gutturally, pounding her fists against Angel's chest.
"Why!? Why did she have to die?! Why didn't I get there sooner? How come I didn't start CPR? Why Angel?"
He allowed her beat him, for a time. Then, when he saw her grow too wild with grief, he grabbed her wrists firmly. "Buffy!" he cried, trying to get her to come back from wherever she had gone in her mind.
His voice wrenched her out of her grief briefly enough for Buffy to recognize she had no more strength. Sobbing still, she collapsed against him, falling into his strong, open, waiting arms. Angel held her to his chest, feeling his body quake with the force of her tremors and weeping. Her tiny body wracked with sobs. Angel scooped her up in his arms, noticing how light she was, wondering if she had been eating well, and carried her over to a tree near the grave, He sat down and took her in his lap, holding her, rocking her, allowing her to cry.
*Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me*
She cried for what seemed like forever, but Angel could tell by the path of the moon it was only for several hours. And he knew that despite this weeping, which by ten o'clock had turned into quiet hiccups and exhaustion, was only the beginning. Buffy had many more tears to shed along her journey. He continued to rock her and soothe her, whispering words of nonsense, rubbing her back, kissing her hair. Angel couldn't say he was surprised when he felt her fall asleep. He pressed his cool cheek against her hot damp skin and held her until she woke.
*Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and the fire*
Around midnight, his sleeping angel woke, embarrassed for having fallen asleep. He could see the embarrassment in her eyes. "It's okay," Angel said gently.
Buffy climbed off his lap and sat beside him. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned against his shoulder and chest, taking comfort in his embrace. "Thank you," she said quietly.
He kissed her temple, "I'm always here for you. You know that."
Buffy felt like telling him he wasn't always there for her, not really, because he was no longer in Sunnydale, but she didn't. She merely nodded, knowing that he was there for her at the end of the telephone, whenever she needed him. He always would be. "So," she said, taking a deep breath. "Want to know about Dawn?"
Angel nodded, knowing she had to keep her mind off Joyce somehow. He listened attentively to Buffy's incredible story of how she came to have a sister.
*Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me*
"Do you want my help?" he asked, concerned. "I'm sure Wesley and Cordelia would come up to help. We also have this guy, Gunn who-"
"No," Buffy said, shaking her head. "That's all right. No need for them to come all this way. Tell them thank you for the flowers, by the way, they were beautiful." Buffy once again stared at her mother's grave. "Angel? If things get to bad here, with Glory I mean, please tell me that you will protect Dawn. She remembers you. She likes you. If things get to bad here, Angel will you-"
Angel nodded, silencing her, "I'll come and get her myself and take her back to LA with me and protect her. I promise."
Buffy smiled, "Thank you."
He kissed her temple, "How was the funeral. Did you father ever show?"
Buffy sighed, "No. He never returned any of my phone calls. I don't really care at this point. He's not my father as far as I'm concerned. Giles is more a father than he ever was. I think I might get him something for Father's Day."
"That'll be nice," Angel remarked, absently running his fingers up and down her arm. She was so thin.
"He's been really great during this whole thing. Mom's sickness, the surgery and hospitalization, her... the past couple days. He's been wonderful. Everyone has. Xander and Anya have been a great help. Remember her? She's the one who brought doppelganger Willow?" Angel nodded. "Willow and Tara have been great too."
"Who's Tara?" Angel asked.
"Willow's girlfriend. She's a lesbian now," Buffy said matter-of-factly.
"Oh," Angel said, a bit surprised.
Buffy was silent again, and Angel did not press or pry. They chatted idylly about college, he told her a few LA stories, and Buffy mentioned Drusilla's visit, leaving out the part where Spike confessed his undying love for her.
*Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars*
"The funeral was... It was brutal," Buffy said abruptly. "But what I'm really worried about is tomorrow."
Angel steeled himself, knowing she was finally doing to discuss what was eating away at her. "What's tomorrow?"
Buffy sighed, sagging as she released the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, "That's what I don't know. Up 'til now I've had a road map - things to do, every minute, that had to do with mom..."
Angel nodded, coaxing her a bit, "And tomorrow the stuff of everyday living resumes."
Buffy nodded and took on an air of desperate huffiness, "Which everybody expects me to know how to do because I'm so strong."
Angel shook his head sympathetically, "Not right away. I'm sure everybody understands that you need time."
The blonde Slayer sighed and shook her head, trying to make him understand, "Time's not the issue. I am good at sticking wood in vampires, but Mom was the strong one in real life. She always knew how to make things better, what to say..." A sob threatened to escape Buffy's lips and she stopped talking.
Angel squeezed her more tightly, slightly nuzzling his face against hers, "You'll find your way. Not all at once, but..."
However, Buffy was not as certain as Angel, "I don't know." Desperation started creeping into her voice, "I keep thinking about it, Angel. When I found her. If I'd gotten there ten minutes earlier-"
Angel shook his head, trying to stop her from going into that line of thinking, "You said they told you it wouldn't have made a difference."
Buffy's heart stopped slightly. She had been carrying around this burden for days and she just wanted it gone. Nevertheless, part of her felt like she could not speak it. She took and deep breath and began what she felt was a confession, "No. Probably wouldn't have made a difference. The exact thing they said was probably. I haven't told anyone that." She sagged slightly. Her dirty little secret was out.
Angel understood her pain, took it in, and made it his own, "That doesn't make it your fault. You couldn't have done anything different." He wanted desperately to make her pain go away.
However, Buffy would hear none of it. All she could feel was her guilt and grief. "I didn't even start CPR until they told me to. I fell apart. That's how good I am at being a grown up." Her last comment seemed snide, and yet, at the same time, defeated. The anguish in her voice made Angel want to weep. "Buffy," he began, but she kept on speaking as though she had never even heard him.
"If I just had me to worry about... But Dawn..." Buffy's voice was once again near the breaking point. Angel swiftly pulled her into his arms, and in his embrace she tried to lose some of her pain.
"It's okay. It's okay," he said soothingly. "You don't feel like it now, but you are strong, Buffy. You're going to figure it out. And you have people to help you. You don't have to do it alone." He truly hoped she was detecting the meaning in his words. But at the same time, Angel felt guilty, because he knew that he had left her alone two years ago, and since then, he hadn't seen her life improve as he had hoped. Sure, she was older, wiser, and stronger, but her strength and wisdom came from pain, pain he had hoped she would avoid feeling. His love looked at him, her eyes wide. Her face was gaunt and she looked so small and frightened.
They stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Finally, it became too intense and Buffy looked away. Glancing at the brightening sky, she said, "It's going to be light soon."
Angel looked up and nodded, but told her sincerely, "I can stay in town. As long as you want me." It was a dangerous promise and they both knew it.
Buffy pulled away and knelt in front of him. "How's forever? Is forever good for you?" There was the danger. And the omission. She still loved him, still wanted him, and still needed him. And she still knew she couldn't have him. "There's a bad idea. I'm seriously needy right now."
Angel knew she was right, but did not want to admit it. He reached out and tenderly stoked some hair out of her face, "Let me worry about the neediness. I can handle it." Dimly, Angel wondered if he was lying.
Buffy wanted to believe him so badly her body ached. She knew how raw and vulnerable she was. If she could just believe his words, then she wondered if she could start to heal. Uncertainly, Buffy leaned forward and kissed Angel lightly, tentatively. The kiss was something they had been longing for for a very long time, and Angel responded quickly, but gently. There was no ferocity in their kiss, as there had been that forgotten day. Although Angel had wanted the kiss to comfort her, soon their emotions and hormones took over and they were kissing passionately, tenderly; they were playing for all the cards. In the kiss, they both knew they could forget themselves, forget the world, and just be lost in each other. Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit Angel with full force and he reluctantly, but rapidly, broke their kiss.
Buffy sighed and glanced at him, "Told you." All the hopes she had had of him being able to restore her were lost. They still could not be together. Not yet. The grief-stricken Slayer glanced up again at the sky, saying, "You'd better go."
"I'm sorry," Angel said painfully, wishing he were able to offer her more. But he couldn't. Not yet.
*Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares*
Buffy's eyes widened and she moved closer to him. "Don't be. I'm so grateful you came, Angel. I didn't think I was going to make it through the night." The admission of that made her tremble and she saw the pain of the realization run through his eyes. She ached to tell him not to go, but she knew that holding him captive just so she could feel better was not an option.
"We have a few more minutes until I have to go," Angel said, opening his arms to her, determined to savor every minute he could spend with her. He knew these moments were rare.
Gratefully, Buffy nodded and burrowed into his chest, taking all the solace and respite she could from his arms. Despite the fact that he was always cold, Angel was starting to make her feel warm for the first time in days. "Good," she mumbled into his chest, inhaling his scent. "Good." She felt him tighten his embrace and Buffy closed her eyes, content finally with what she had.
Angel could feel their powerful bond being renewed as they sat in the cemetery, holding each other. He had to admit, in a way, it felt like old times. Angel inhaled her scent and tried to make memories of the feeling of Buffy's weight in his arms. In LA, he was beginning to forget what it felt like. Sadly, he looked away from her and up at the sky. It was growing frighteningly bright. "Buffy," he said softly. "I have to go now."
Buffy nodded and pulled away, "I'll walk you to your car." She paused. "You did bring a car right?"
He smiled, "Yes, honey, I brought a car." Holding out his hand, the walked in silence to the edge of the cemetery. When the reached his car, Angel offered, "I can give you a ride home if you want."
She smiled gratefully, "No thanks, Angel. I think I'd rather walk. There's still some things I need to clear out in my head." Buffy knew she shouldn't, but she didn't care. She rose on tiptoe and brushed his lips gently. "Thank you, so much."
Angel cupped her cheek with his palm, "Buffy, I know things are hard now but they'll be better."
"Angel, you keep saying that but I can't see how. She was my mother."
The vampire with a soul took the Slayer's hands, "I didn't mean your mother Buffy, I meant us." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, "I'm sorry I have to keep leaving you. I will be back someday, and promise to bring with me a normal life. That is," he ventured cautiously. 'If you'll wait for me."
Buffy closed her eyes, "I'll do my best Angel. Truth be told, despite every bad thing you and I went through together, the good memories far out weigh the bad." She saw pink dawning on the horizon, "Get going before you get turned into a crispy critter."
Angel nodded and obeyed. Before he shut the door, he murmured, "I love you, Buffy the Vampire Slayer."
"I love you, Angel with a Soul," she replied, tears once again welling in her eyes.
Despite his desire to kiss away her tears, Angel shut the door to the car and drove away. He decided it was too late, or early, to make the drive all the way back to Los Angeles, so he drove back to the mansion on Crawford Street to try and get some sleep. Parking the car as close as he could to the front entrance, Angel hiked his coat up over his face and buried his hands inside the sleeves, making a mad dash for the front door. He barreled through it like a line backer, landing in the front foyer still slightly smoking. He climbed to his feet and walked down the darkened hallway to his old bedroom. Before sinking into a deep and dreamless sleep on his old bed, Angel made a quick call to Wesley to inform him that he would return that evening. Angel woke shortly after dusk and decided it was time to leave Sunnydale.
Without realizing it, Angel drove his car towards Revello Drive. It was as if he was on automatic pilot. Parking up the street, Angel got out of his car, deciding he was just going to take a peak and see if Buffy and Dawn were okay. He was shocked when he saw something that resembled Joyce stumbling towards the front door. He followed it and hid behind a tree, wondering how the resurrected body of Buffy's mother ended up on her doorstep. Angel realized someone had attempted a resurrection spell. Suddenly, just as quickly as she appeared, the Joyce zombie disappeared, split seconds before Buffy wrenched open the front door.
"Mommy?" she asked, her voice like that of a child's.
Angel stole deeper into the shadows to remain hidden. He watched as Dawn stepped forward and took her hysterical sister in her arms. He watched as the Summers women sank to the floor of their foyer, weeping and comforting each other. He stepped out form behind the tree, tempted to go to them and console them both. Then, Dawn looked up and saw him. At first, she looked startled, but then he saw relief and understanding cross her young features. Buffy was right; she did remember him. The youngest and newest Summers female nodded to him and mouthed "Thank you."
Angel smiled for her benefit and stole away into the night, getting into his car and driving towards the road that would lead him out of town and back to LA. "You're welcome," he said to no one in particular as he steered his convertible onto the highway.
*Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Please remember me
Please remember me*
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It was nearly five in the morning. Buffy had been awake for hours. Actually, she'd never really gone to bed. She hadn't slept since Joyce died; not really. She couldn't. She couldn't handle closing her eyes and seeing the image of her mother's dead body. Nor could she handle closing her eyes and seeing glimpses of what was or what might have been. Buffy the Vampire Slayer couldn't live that way. She couldn't live in a world of delusions. Her mother was gone.
Of course, she knew she wasn't really coping with it. She'd been like a determined businessperson from the moment she and Dawn had been in the morgue, alone, with Joyce's dead, naked, autopsied body. Before, Buffy had been in shock. However, at that moment, seeing her mother's empty shell, and Dawn's emotionally battered form staring mournfully down at it, Buffy knew she had to be strong. She had to appear strong, at the very least. As much as she wanted to curl up and cry for the rest of her life, Buffy knew she couldn't. Because if she did, she knew that she would never stop, and nothing would get done. She knew that the gang and Giles would have made arrangements for her to help her out, but she couldn't let them. It was *her* mother; she had to do the planning.
Buffy was furious at her father for not calling. For not caring. For not coming. Truly, Buffy hadn't really wanted him there. He hadn't been in her life for the past five years, with the exception of that one weekend after the kid with the waking nightmares. The only reason she had called him was for Dawn's sake. She needed him. She needed a big strong man to hug, beat, and weep to. Buffy wondered, though, if her father would even know Dawn, even remember her. When the monks had sent Dawn to Buffy, they had altered the memories of everyone who would interact with her. Did they take into consideration the absentee father who never interacted with his first daughter? The phone call to her father had just been the first in a string of phone calls. Business. No emotion. Too hard.
There was one phone call, however, Buffy had not been able to make yet. She needed a big strong man too, someone she could hug and beat and weep to. Buffy knew that she could not go one much longer s the unemotional robot. Because the robot was merely suppressing all the emotions Buffy felt about the loss of her mother. Buffy knew that without some kind of help, she was not going to make it through the night. She had considered running away again. She had even considered suicide, fleetingly. Mostly, Buffy just thought that she would die from the overwhelming grief she knew was going to rush upon her once there was nothing else to do.
With shaking hand, Buffy reached out and picked up her phone. For a long time, she just listened to the dial tone. When it changed over to the annoying recorded message from the telephone company, she slammed the phone down then winced, not wanting to wake Dawn. More quietly, Buffy picked up the phone again and dialed information.
"What city and state?" Came the automated voice.
Gulping, Buffy whispered, "Los Angeles, California."
"What listing?"
Buffy sighed, "Angel Investigations."
"One moment please."
The next thing she knew, the phone was ringing. Buffy nearly lost her nerve, and wanted to hang up, but something made her stop. She once again got lost in her own thoughts, entranced by the monotony of the ringing. She did not even notice that it had rung fifteen times. She just listened to the ringing. She knew Angel would pick up. She just had to wait.
Down in LA, Angel was helping Wesley, Cordelia and Gunn move their things out of their dingy rented office and back into the hotel. They had graciously allowed him to help, and accommodated him by doing their moving during the wee small hours of the morning. Now, the humans were getting rather exhausted as dawn approached. Angel had worked hurriedly to get everything done before the sun came up. He wanted, he *needed* to redeem himself in their eyes, especially Cordelia's.
Just as he set the last box down on the floor, the telephone began to ring shrilly. Out of habit, Angel stopped and waited for someone to answer it. Five rings. Six rings. No one did. Ten rings. Eleven rings. Cordelia looked at him exasperatedly from her position half-asleep on the couch. Fifteen rings. Sixteen rings. Angel winced. "Right." He quickly crossed the lobby and picked up the telephone on its twentieth ring.
"Hello?" he said with some uncertainty. "Angel Investigations. We help the-"
Buffy was startled when Angel finally picked up the phone. The endless ringing had lulled her. "Angel?" she said quickly, cutting him off.
"Buffy!" he exclaimed, startled. Wesley and Cordelia looked up. Cordelia immediately lost interest, but Wesley rose off the couch and crossed to Angel. He nodded to the worried vampire and Angel continued, "Buffy. How are you? Is something wrong? A demon?"
Buffy held back a hysterical and overemotional laugh that would have immediately turned into sobbing. She swallowed tears, again, and replied, "No Angel, not a demon."
He sighed in relief, "That's good." Then he heard the sadness, the abject despair in her voice. "Buffy, honey, what's wrong? Did something happen to Giles? Are Willow and Xander all right?"
"They're fine," Buffy replied flatly. She took a deep breath and held it, "It's my mother Angel. She's, she, I mean I... Angel, she's gone." Once again, she felt the tears threaten to overwhelm her.
Wesley gasped when he heard Buffy say that, as he was leaning in close to Angel's ear. He hurried back over to the couch and woke the dozing Cordelia, taking on himself to be the bearer of bad news.
Angel, for his part, felt his heart break, knowing Buffy must be falling apart. He was especially worried about her because she sounded so...detached. "I'm so sorry sweetie. How?"
Buffy sniffed back the tears, willing the dam not to break, "Uh, it was an aneurysm. She had brain cancer, and underwent surgery about a month ago. This was a potential complication; the doctors told her. But she..." Buffy's battle with her tears was failing. "She never told us. Angel, I came home and I found her, staring straight up. She was so cold. I couldn't-"
"Shhhh," Angel soothed, wishing he could instantly teleport himself to her side. He saw the sun starting to brighten the Los Angeles outside the front door and he cursed inwardly. Now he would not be able to make it to Sunnydale until dusk. Not that he would be any good to her anyway. Not if the funeral was during the daylight hours. "There was nothing you could have done," he said gently. "Do you want me to come up?" Angel ventured cautiously, wondering all the while where Riley was and why the bastard was not doing anything to take away her pain.
"Please Angel," Buffy replied. "I'm not going to be able to do this on my own. Dawn needs me to be strong."
Angel frowned, "Who's Dawn?"
Buffy sighed, "Oh right, you don't know. Well you see, she's-"
"It's not important," Angel said, cutting her off, knowing much more talking was going to cause her to break into uncontrollable weeping. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he told her. "And Buffy?"
"Yes?"
"I promise not to get in a fight with Riley." He thought the comment would alleviate some of the sadness, a weak attempt at a joke. He was wrong. His heart broke more when he heard Buffy's reply.
"No worries there. Riley left me right after my mother's surgery. He's back in the army."
"Oh, Buffy, honey, I'm sorry, I didn't-" Angel cursed himself for adding to her pain.
"It's okay," she told him listlessly. "You didn't know. I'll see you when you get here, okay?"
"Okay," Angel replied. "Buffy, I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but it's going to be okay."
"Yeah," Buffy said, sounding as though she didn't really believe a single damn word he said. "Bye Angel." She hung up and looked at the clock. Five-thirty. Only ten and a half more hours until the funeral.
When Angel hung up the phone, Cordelia and Wesley crossed to him.
"Is she all right?" Cordy asked, wiping a few tears from her eyes.
Angel shrugged and shook his head, turning to them, "No. She sounds like she's dying inside. You know how Buffy handles things like this. She cuts herself off emotionally."
"Or runs away," Cordelia added, wincing the moment the words left the mouth. "Sorry. Reflex."
Wesley put a hand on Angel's shoulder, "Do you want someone to go with you?"
Angel shook his head, "No, but, if you guys don't mind, I'm going to need you to blank out the windows on the convertible. I'd like to leave before dusk so I can get there the minute it gets dark." He felt bad asking them to do things but the car was parked on the street and the sun was beginning to rise.
Wesley nodded, "Of course. As soon as we get a bit of rest."
Angel nodded.
"Wesley and I are going to send flowers," Cordelia told him. "I would go, but I'm honestly too tired to make the drive. Plus, I don't want to risk having a vision in the middle of the service."
Angel smiled, "I'm sure they'll understand. Thank you Cordelia." She would not meet his gaze and quickly turned around. She was still unable to trust him. He had hurt her too much. Angel sighed. Another woman he had hurt.
*When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone*
Buffy stood at Joyce's grave, knees locked, hands clenched into fists, eyes unblinking. She couldn't believe she hadn't passed out by now. She wondered what it was that was keeping her upright. But somewhere she knew. Angel. She was waiting for him. He had said he would come and she knew he would. All she had to do now was wait. At least it gave her something else to do, so she didn't have to focus on the pain. She knew the minute it grew dark he would be there.
*I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars*
Angel parked his car at the edge of the cemetery gates and waited for the sun to completely set. From where he was, he could see Buffy, looking defeated and lifeless, even though she was standing. Her gaze was fixed at the gravesite, but he wondered if she was really seeing it. She wondered where her mind was. The sun went below the horizon and Angel slowly emerged from his car, silently crossing the grass until he was beside her.
Buffy sensed his presence, but did not speak. She did not even look at him. She couldn't tear her eyes away from her mother's grave.
Angel's heart broke to see her in such sorrow. "I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner," he said compassionately. For a moment, he thought she had not heard him, and he glanced over at her. Buffy nodded and without utterance slipped her tiny hand into his. He took it gladly and gave it a squeeze, trying to give her strength. The stood in silence for a long time, seemingly contemplating the grave. Angel could feel her trembling as he held her hand. Gently, he turned her to face him. "Buffy," he said gently, tipping her chin.
The tears welled in her eyes and she refused to meet his gaze. But Angel would not back down. "Buffy," he said again. "I'm here. You don't have to pretend anymore."
"No," Buffy said, teeth clenched. "I have to be strong. I have to be strong for her. For them. They need to see me be strong."
"Buffy," he said again. "You don't have to pretend to be strong anymore." He watched in sorrow as the tears spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks. Crying out in despair, Buffy sobbed gutturally, pounding her fists against Angel's chest.
"Why!? Why did she have to die?! Why didn't I get there sooner? How come I didn't start CPR? Why Angel?"
He allowed her beat him, for a time. Then, when he saw her grow too wild with grief, he grabbed her wrists firmly. "Buffy!" he cried, trying to get her to come back from wherever she had gone in her mind.
His voice wrenched her out of her grief briefly enough for Buffy to recognize she had no more strength. Sobbing still, she collapsed against him, falling into his strong, open, waiting arms. Angel held her to his chest, feeling his body quake with the force of her tremors and weeping. Her tiny body wracked with sobs. Angel scooped her up in his arms, noticing how light she was, wondering if she had been eating well, and carried her over to a tree near the grave, He sat down and took her in his lap, holding her, rocking her, allowing her to cry.
*Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me*
She cried for what seemed like forever, but Angel could tell by the path of the moon it was only for several hours. And he knew that despite this weeping, which by ten o'clock had turned into quiet hiccups and exhaustion, was only the beginning. Buffy had many more tears to shed along her journey. He continued to rock her and soothe her, whispering words of nonsense, rubbing her back, kissing her hair. Angel couldn't say he was surprised when he felt her fall asleep. He pressed his cool cheek against her hot damp skin and held her until she woke.
*Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and the fire*
Around midnight, his sleeping angel woke, embarrassed for having fallen asleep. He could see the embarrassment in her eyes. "It's okay," Angel said gently.
Buffy climbed off his lap and sat beside him. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned against his shoulder and chest, taking comfort in his embrace. "Thank you," she said quietly.
He kissed her temple, "I'm always here for you. You know that."
Buffy felt like telling him he wasn't always there for her, not really, because he was no longer in Sunnydale, but she didn't. She merely nodded, knowing that he was there for her at the end of the telephone, whenever she needed him. He always would be. "So," she said, taking a deep breath. "Want to know about Dawn?"
Angel nodded, knowing she had to keep her mind off Joyce somehow. He listened attentively to Buffy's incredible story of how she came to have a sister.
*Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me*
"Do you want my help?" he asked, concerned. "I'm sure Wesley and Cordelia would come up to help. We also have this guy, Gunn who-"
"No," Buffy said, shaking her head. "That's all right. No need for them to come all this way. Tell them thank you for the flowers, by the way, they were beautiful." Buffy once again stared at her mother's grave. "Angel? If things get to bad here, with Glory I mean, please tell me that you will protect Dawn. She remembers you. She likes you. If things get to bad here, Angel will you-"
Angel nodded, silencing her, "I'll come and get her myself and take her back to LA with me and protect her. I promise."
Buffy smiled, "Thank you."
He kissed her temple, "How was the funeral. Did you father ever show?"
Buffy sighed, "No. He never returned any of my phone calls. I don't really care at this point. He's not my father as far as I'm concerned. Giles is more a father than he ever was. I think I might get him something for Father's Day."
"That'll be nice," Angel remarked, absently running his fingers up and down her arm. She was so thin.
"He's been really great during this whole thing. Mom's sickness, the surgery and hospitalization, her... the past couple days. He's been wonderful. Everyone has. Xander and Anya have been a great help. Remember her? She's the one who brought doppelganger Willow?" Angel nodded. "Willow and Tara have been great too."
"Who's Tara?" Angel asked.
"Willow's girlfriend. She's a lesbian now," Buffy said matter-of-factly.
"Oh," Angel said, a bit surprised.
Buffy was silent again, and Angel did not press or pry. They chatted idylly about college, he told her a few LA stories, and Buffy mentioned Drusilla's visit, leaving out the part where Spike confessed his undying love for her.
*Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars*
"The funeral was... It was brutal," Buffy said abruptly. "But what I'm really worried about is tomorrow."
Angel steeled himself, knowing she was finally doing to discuss what was eating away at her. "What's tomorrow?"
Buffy sighed, sagging as she released the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, "That's what I don't know. Up 'til now I've had a road map - things to do, every minute, that had to do with mom..."
Angel nodded, coaxing her a bit, "And tomorrow the stuff of everyday living resumes."
Buffy nodded and took on an air of desperate huffiness, "Which everybody expects me to know how to do because I'm so strong."
Angel shook his head sympathetically, "Not right away. I'm sure everybody understands that you need time."
The blonde Slayer sighed and shook her head, trying to make him understand, "Time's not the issue. I am good at sticking wood in vampires, but Mom was the strong one in real life. She always knew how to make things better, what to say..." A sob threatened to escape Buffy's lips and she stopped talking.
Angel squeezed her more tightly, slightly nuzzling his face against hers, "You'll find your way. Not all at once, but..."
However, Buffy was not as certain as Angel, "I don't know." Desperation started creeping into her voice, "I keep thinking about it, Angel. When I found her. If I'd gotten there ten minutes earlier-"
Angel shook his head, trying to stop her from going into that line of thinking, "You said they told you it wouldn't have made a difference."
Buffy's heart stopped slightly. She had been carrying around this burden for days and she just wanted it gone. Nevertheless, part of her felt like she could not speak it. She took and deep breath and began what she felt was a confession, "No. Probably wouldn't have made a difference. The exact thing they said was probably. I haven't told anyone that." She sagged slightly. Her dirty little secret was out.
Angel understood her pain, took it in, and made it his own, "That doesn't make it your fault. You couldn't have done anything different." He wanted desperately to make her pain go away.
However, Buffy would hear none of it. All she could feel was her guilt and grief. "I didn't even start CPR until they told me to. I fell apart. That's how good I am at being a grown up." Her last comment seemed snide, and yet, at the same time, defeated. The anguish in her voice made Angel want to weep. "Buffy," he began, but she kept on speaking as though she had never even heard him.
"If I just had me to worry about... But Dawn..." Buffy's voice was once again near the breaking point. Angel swiftly pulled her into his arms, and in his embrace she tried to lose some of her pain.
"It's okay. It's okay," he said soothingly. "You don't feel like it now, but you are strong, Buffy. You're going to figure it out. And you have people to help you. You don't have to do it alone." He truly hoped she was detecting the meaning in his words. But at the same time, Angel felt guilty, because he knew that he had left her alone two years ago, and since then, he hadn't seen her life improve as he had hoped. Sure, she was older, wiser, and stronger, but her strength and wisdom came from pain, pain he had hoped she would avoid feeling. His love looked at him, her eyes wide. Her face was gaunt and she looked so small and frightened.
They stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Finally, it became too intense and Buffy looked away. Glancing at the brightening sky, she said, "It's going to be light soon."
Angel looked up and nodded, but told her sincerely, "I can stay in town. As long as you want me." It was a dangerous promise and they both knew it.
Buffy pulled away and knelt in front of him. "How's forever? Is forever good for you?" There was the danger. And the omission. She still loved him, still wanted him, and still needed him. And she still knew she couldn't have him. "There's a bad idea. I'm seriously needy right now."
Angel knew she was right, but did not want to admit it. He reached out and tenderly stoked some hair out of her face, "Let me worry about the neediness. I can handle it." Dimly, Angel wondered if he was lying.
Buffy wanted to believe him so badly her body ached. She knew how raw and vulnerable she was. If she could just believe his words, then she wondered if she could start to heal. Uncertainly, Buffy leaned forward and kissed Angel lightly, tentatively. The kiss was something they had been longing for for a very long time, and Angel responded quickly, but gently. There was no ferocity in their kiss, as there had been that forgotten day. Although Angel had wanted the kiss to comfort her, soon their emotions and hormones took over and they were kissing passionately, tenderly; they were playing for all the cards. In the kiss, they both knew they could forget themselves, forget the world, and just be lost in each other. Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit Angel with full force and he reluctantly, but rapidly, broke their kiss.
Buffy sighed and glanced at him, "Told you." All the hopes she had had of him being able to restore her were lost. They still could not be together. Not yet. The grief-stricken Slayer glanced up again at the sky, saying, "You'd better go."
"I'm sorry," Angel said painfully, wishing he were able to offer her more. But he couldn't. Not yet.
*Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares*
Buffy's eyes widened and she moved closer to him. "Don't be. I'm so grateful you came, Angel. I didn't think I was going to make it through the night." The admission of that made her tremble and she saw the pain of the realization run through his eyes. She ached to tell him not to go, but she knew that holding him captive just so she could feel better was not an option.
"We have a few more minutes until I have to go," Angel said, opening his arms to her, determined to savor every minute he could spend with her. He knew these moments were rare.
Gratefully, Buffy nodded and burrowed into his chest, taking all the solace and respite she could from his arms. Despite the fact that he was always cold, Angel was starting to make her feel warm for the first time in days. "Good," she mumbled into his chest, inhaling his scent. "Good." She felt him tighten his embrace and Buffy closed her eyes, content finally with what she had.
Angel could feel their powerful bond being renewed as they sat in the cemetery, holding each other. He had to admit, in a way, it felt like old times. Angel inhaled her scent and tried to make memories of the feeling of Buffy's weight in his arms. In LA, he was beginning to forget what it felt like. Sadly, he looked away from her and up at the sky. It was growing frighteningly bright. "Buffy," he said softly. "I have to go now."
Buffy nodded and pulled away, "I'll walk you to your car." She paused. "You did bring a car right?"
He smiled, "Yes, honey, I brought a car." Holding out his hand, the walked in silence to the edge of the cemetery. When the reached his car, Angel offered, "I can give you a ride home if you want."
She smiled gratefully, "No thanks, Angel. I think I'd rather walk. There's still some things I need to clear out in my head." Buffy knew she shouldn't, but she didn't care. She rose on tiptoe and brushed his lips gently. "Thank you, so much."
Angel cupped her cheek with his palm, "Buffy, I know things are hard now but they'll be better."
"Angel, you keep saying that but I can't see how. She was my mother."
The vampire with a soul took the Slayer's hands, "I didn't mean your mother Buffy, I meant us." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, "I'm sorry I have to keep leaving you. I will be back someday, and promise to bring with me a normal life. That is," he ventured cautiously. 'If you'll wait for me."
Buffy closed her eyes, "I'll do my best Angel. Truth be told, despite every bad thing you and I went through together, the good memories far out weigh the bad." She saw pink dawning on the horizon, "Get going before you get turned into a crispy critter."
Angel nodded and obeyed. Before he shut the door, he murmured, "I love you, Buffy the Vampire Slayer."
"I love you, Angel with a Soul," she replied, tears once again welling in her eyes.
Despite his desire to kiss away her tears, Angel shut the door to the car and drove away. He decided it was too late, or early, to make the drive all the way back to Los Angeles, so he drove back to the mansion on Crawford Street to try and get some sleep. Parking the car as close as he could to the front entrance, Angel hiked his coat up over his face and buried his hands inside the sleeves, making a mad dash for the front door. He barreled through it like a line backer, landing in the front foyer still slightly smoking. He climbed to his feet and walked down the darkened hallway to his old bedroom. Before sinking into a deep and dreamless sleep on his old bed, Angel made a quick call to Wesley to inform him that he would return that evening. Angel woke shortly after dusk and decided it was time to leave Sunnydale.
Without realizing it, Angel drove his car towards Revello Drive. It was as if he was on automatic pilot. Parking up the street, Angel got out of his car, deciding he was just going to take a peak and see if Buffy and Dawn were okay. He was shocked when he saw something that resembled Joyce stumbling towards the front door. He followed it and hid behind a tree, wondering how the resurrected body of Buffy's mother ended up on her doorstep. Angel realized someone had attempted a resurrection spell. Suddenly, just as quickly as she appeared, the Joyce zombie disappeared, split seconds before Buffy wrenched open the front door.
"Mommy?" she asked, her voice like that of a child's.
Angel stole deeper into the shadows to remain hidden. He watched as Dawn stepped forward and took her hysterical sister in her arms. He watched as the Summers women sank to the floor of their foyer, weeping and comforting each other. He stepped out form behind the tree, tempted to go to them and console them both. Then, Dawn looked up and saw him. At first, she looked startled, but then he saw relief and understanding cross her young features. Buffy was right; she did remember him. The youngest and newest Summers female nodded to him and mouthed "Thank you."
Angel smiled for her benefit and stole away into the night, getting into his car and driving towards the road that would lead him out of town and back to LA. "You're welcome," he said to no one in particular as he steered his convertible onto the highway.
*Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Please remember me
Please remember me*