Disclaimer: Characters belong to Mr. Joss Whedon and Twentieth Century Fox

Rating: PG 13 (possible adult situations) ñ Iím not really going to tell you if itís angsty or not, I donít wanna give away the story

Summary: When Angel finds out about Spike and his newly restored soul, he heads to Sunnydale for some explanations. Totally B/A...or is it? Hehe. Iíll also have different characters povís expressed, so, keep that in mind.

Spoilers: BtVS season 7, AtS season 4. This story takes place after Cordelia gets her memory back, yada, yada, yada. But donít worry, sheís not really in any of the story.

Feedback: Always wanted and welcome. For any of the previous chapters, just email me: slayage@hotmail.com

Authorís Note: All lyrics are by Avril Lavigne, off her album ëLet Goí

 

CHAPTER 1

Angel:

Unbelievable. Thatís pretty much the only word I can form right now as I head to Sunnydale. The fact that William the Bloody is still residing in the town is enough to make me squeeze the steering wheel a little tighter, but now he has a soul? Are they just handing those things out these days, like ëa dime a dození kind of thing? Iím not sure why, but I think I might actually be jealous. I guess I always assumed Iíd be the special vamp that everybodyís heard of. Thatís just not the case anymore.

Iím not completely sure why I feel so inclined to go to Sunnydale, but thereís something in my gut that keeps telling me I need to find out more. So I push down harder on the pedal as I race down the freeway.

At least thereís not too much traffic at 4 in the morning.

 

Buffy:

Willow just told me the news that Angelís coming. She spoke to Cordelia on the phone the other day during one of their periodic updates that I wasnít even informed of. Willow just happened to bring up the fact that Spike has his soul back, and Cordelia felt the need to share that information with Angel. So Cordy called back to warn us that he sped out of the hotel the minute he heard, on his way over.

I asked Willow how much of our lives she tells Cordy, and she told me that they donít really speak that often, and even when they do, itís mostly just pleasantries. I breathe a sigh of relief, and I know Willow understands why.

"Youíre still going to have to tell him the story though," she says to me. She has that sympathetic best friend look she always gives me, and I look back at her, trying not to show my emotions.

"I know." I whisper. "Something tells me heís not going to take it that great." Willow gently touches my arm and I quietly move past her to go up the stairs to my room. As I close the door behind me, I sit on my bed, head in my hands, and try to write what Iím going to say to him in my head.

*************************

I hear the knock at the door at about quarter to five in the morning and donít really mind. I wasnít sleeping anyway.

I put my blue, satin robe on and make my way down the stairs to the front door, and try my best to put on that innocent face everyone always falls for. But I know I canít chicken out of this. He has to know.

Heís going to know.

I turn the handle slowly, and am met with Angelís deadpan face. I havenít seen him in almost a year, and it seems that every time we see each other, the last time we saw each other was even longer ago.

"Hey," I say softly, and stand aside to let him come in. He quickly takes the invitation, and crosses the threshold wearing his customary black duster.

Iíve always loved those dusters.

"Hi," he says in response. He turns to look at me as I shut the door behind him, and I wait for him to start up the conversation. When he does, he speaks in a hushed tone, obviously realizing that there are other people in the house.

"Look, Iím really sorry for coming at such a crazy hour but...I think this is a pretty good reason."

"Yeah, sure, itís no problem," I say in a friendly manner, a little annoyed at the slight coldness to his voice. "I guess you probably want to hear the story then, huh?"

"Yes, I would."

"Well, why donít we head upstairs, cuz itís a looong story. Believe me." I touch his arm softly to lead him up the stairs and he looks a little uncomfortable about the two of us going into my bedroom again.

I close the door as he begins to pace the floor of the room, and I notice that my legs are beginning to shake just the slightest bit.

***************************************

"So?" he says expectantly, and I gesture for him to sit on the bed, but he instead opts for sitting on the chair by my desk. I quickly realize why, and a small pang goes through me, but I quickly shake it off. //Pretty pathetic Summers, youíre still not over him. //

But I guess thatís always what your first love does to you.

I sit on the bed instead, and try to decide where to begin. Angel sits forward on the chair, with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. I look at him for a moment from where I sit, and after a few seconds, he looks away. That simply gesture hurts more then I can put into words. I cover up that hurt by deciding to start up what is promising to be a very exciting conversation.

"Thereís something we need to talk about first," I say, knowing he can detect the shakiness in my voice that I was trying so hard to cover up. "Itís important for you to know the entire story."

"Iím listening," is all he says.

***************************

CHAPTER 2

Angel:

This is not happening.

There is no way Buffy actually had a relationship with that son of a bitch. As she tells me the story in more detail than I ever wanted to know, I shut my eyes tightly and try, for a moment, to shut her out. I try to convince myself that if I canít hear her, none of it can be true. But it isnít working.

"I never did this to hurt you Angel," she says to me, and I can hear in her strained voice that her tears are imminent. "This wasnít about you. I just needed to forget, just for a while. And Spike was there, he was there when I needed him."

"And I wasnít," I whisper, trying to control the rage boiling inside of me.

"Thatís not what I meant, Angel. I know Iím not your priority anymore, I havenít been in a long time, and I understand that." She pauses, looks down at her feet, and swallows. Then, in a quieter voice, she says, "No matter how much I hate it, weíre not in each otherís lives any more. It wasnít your obligation to comfort me."

"So you thought that Spike would be the best solution?!" I say, my voice raised slightly as I get up off my chair and stare into her green eyes with mine. Iím sure she sees the fury there.

I hope she does.

"Maybe," she says. "A temporary solution. Angel, you donít know, you donít know how hard it was for me, just to be here."

"You shouldíve talked to me, you shouldíve known that I would have been there for you, no matter what. I deserved to know, all of this." I shake my head slightly, grinding my teeth, and she meets my eyes once again.

"Because youíve been so completely honest with me over the past two years?" She says sarcastically, as she stands up as well. Iím a surprised at her words. I didnít expect to be on the defensive.

"This isnít about me, Buffy."

"Of course not," she says again, the sarcasm still very clear in her statement.

"It just-," I begin, but donít know how to continue. I think I want her to know how much this hurts. Iím going to make her hurt just as much. She looks at me expectantly. "It just makes me wonder, Buffy. I mean, you were with me, you were with Spike..." I let the sentence go unfinished, but sum up my argument. "Maybe thatís all I was to you. A Spike. Were you just playing the field? Tried the dead guy, tried the living, but ultimately decided that dead guys were the most thrills?" She stares at me, a horrified expression on her face, and I know Iíve gone too far.

"How can you say that," she whispers, her anger clear in her tone. "The fact that you would say that, let alone think it...You know what you meant to me, Angel. You know." She stops for a moment, wipes a tear that slowly begins to roll down one of her cheeks. She looks so deeply into my eyes that I almost have to look away. But I wonít do that to her again. "I loved you with my whole heart, my entire soul. Youíre the only one thatís ever gotten the whole package. Why do you think I was reduced to sleeping with Spike?!" She raises her voice on the last comment. "You took the biggest piece of me with you, Angel. And then I didnít have a hell of a lot left. Thatís why Riley left me. He knew that I couldnít love him, not the way I loved you, and he couldnít take it." Everything sheís saying, everything sheís sharing, is leaving me utterly speechless. "Ever since you left, I just get more numb every day. And thereís not a damn thing I can do about it."

The smallest tang of hate underscores her words.

************************************TBC

CHAPTER 3

Buffy:

"So, youíre saying that this is all my fault?!" he yells. "You were sleeping with a murderer because we broke up? Gimme a break Buffy. You canít lay all this on me."

"Iím not blaming you!" I yell back. "And Spike is different now, okay? He has a soul. There was never much difference between the two of you, was there?" I cross my arms across my chest and stare at him defiantly, trying to keep my cool as much as I possibly can. Heís silent for a moment, just looks at me. I wait for his response with dread.

"No, I guess not," he whispers, and I can hear anguish in his voice at my words.

"Angel, I didnít mean-" I desperately begin to explain but he cuts me off harshly.

"It doesnít matter," he says, and I close my eyes for a moment, not believing that I actually just compared him to Spike. "Well," he continues, "Iím glad youíre over me and youíve moved on to the next mass murderer," he says sarcastically. "Youíre not the only one whoís moved on though." Iím wondering what he means by that, and he doesnít disappoint.

"I have a son."

The silence in the room is deafening, and I almost shudder. I stare blankly at the floor of my room and try to comprehend the words that have just been spoken but fall flat. Iím completely and utterly speechless and want so badly to make my hurt and confusion go away. Perhaps thirty seconds later, he continues, and despite the feeling that a panic attack is about to overcome me, I try my best to listen. "A lot has happened in the past two years, and itís a very long story, but itís true." I hardly hear a word heís saying, I just concentrate on keeping my breathing even. How is this possible? I think to myself, and now I do begin to tremble slightly.

"Thatís part of the long story," he says, and I realize I must have spoken aloud. "Too long. Maybe one day Iíll tell you." I donít reply, but I finally bring my gaze up to look at him once again. I finally find my voice again, not bothering to cover up the agony I feel.

"What do you want me to say?" I cry. "Congratulations? Angel, what the hell is going on?!" I want to know desperately, but he doesnít look inclined to tell me the tale. When I realize heís not about to explain, I ask him another question. "Anything else youíd like to tell me? Cuz I personally donít think anything else you say could shock me more right now."

"Iím in love with Cordelia."

I stand corrected.

I feel my heart shatter into another million pieces, and I think Angel mustíve heard it, because he looks like he regrets telling me that the second the words left his lips. A long silence overcomes the room once again, and this time, Iím the first to speak.

"I want you to leave." I say it so quietly he probably wouldnít have heard me had it not been for his vampiric hearing. Angel looks at me and whispers my name. He tries to walk to me, reaching out his hand to touch me, and I flinch away roughly, not wanting to be anywhere near him right now. After a few moments, he leaves the room without another word. The second I hear the door close behind him, my sobs wrack my entire body as I fall back on my bed, and I donít think Iíll ever be able to stop.

I cry myself to sleep.

 


//

Are you aware of what you make me feel, baby
Right now I feel invisible to you,

Like I'm not real
Didn't you feel me lock my arms

Around you
Why'd you turn away?
Here's what I have to say

I was left to cry there,
waiting outside there

Grinning with a lost stare
That's when I decided

Why should I care
Cuz you weren't there when I was scared

I was so alone
You, you need to listen

I'm starting to trip,
I'm losing my grip

And I'm in this thing alone

Crying out loud I'm crying out loud
Crying out loud I'm crying out loud

Open your eyes
Open up wide
Why should I care
Cuz you weren't there
when I was scared I was so alone

Why should I care
Cuz you weren't there when I was scared

I was so alone
Why should I care
If you don't care then I don't care

Weíre not going anywhere //

**********************************

The morning comes too soon, and I squint at the sunlight pouring in through the window. My eyes hurt from crying, and when I get up and look at myself in the mirror, I notice how red they are. As much as Iíd like to stay in bed and wallow in my own misery, I instead change into some jeans and a black tank top and head downstairs at the sound of Willowís seemingly frantic voice as she speaks to someone on the phone.

"Are you sure? Well, maybe heíll be back tonight, cuz he left kinda late from here. What? Well, there was a lot of yelling, so maybe he was just upset." I listen to Willow as I reach the bottom of the stairs and hope she doesnít notice me. Itís pretty obvious whom sheís talking about, and I feel the worry wash over me in an instant. I enter the kitchen quickly to find out whatís going on, and when Willow sees me, she tries to wrap up her phone call.

"Okay, well, weíll let you know if we hear anything. Yeah, sheís right here. Iíll tell her right away. Okay, bye Cordy."

As soon as she hangs up, I speak. "Whatís going on?" Willow sees the concern in my features and she explains immediately, putting on her ësympathetic faceí once more.

"Cordy said Angel didnít come back last night. He told her before he left that heíd be back before sunrise, so sheís a little worried. And so am I after all the yelling and screaming and crying I heard last night. I told her that he probably just needed to blow off some steam."

I donít respond, my thoughts, as usual, filled with Angel. God, what if heís hurt? What if he did something stupid?

"I have to find him, Will. I have to find him." Willow is not about to argue, and she pulls me into a hug. I accept gratefully, and once again, my tears flow freely.

Please be okay.

I silently pray for Angelís safety, knowing that if something did happen to him, Iíll never be able to forgive myself.

Please be okay.

****************************************

CHAPTER 4

Angel:

I donít know what Iím doing.

Iíve been here for hours, just sitting by the fire, and thinking. Well, I guess the technical term would be ëbroodingí, as everyone likes to so often call it. I donít know why Iím still here. I should be back in L.A., trying to forget about my interaction with Buffy, and just get on with my miserable existence.

But I just canít do that, not without making things right with her. I was an idiot to tell her all those things. I know that I should have told her about Connor right away, but Cordelia? I am mentally kicking myself for being so foolish, still so willing to hurt the woman who was once the most important thing to me in the world. She was my redemption, my salvation, and now itís almost as if sheís just a memory. I donít understand how I couldíve let our separation get this far, how I went almost a year without looking into the depths of those green eyes of hers.

How did I not see how lost she was?

When I saw her after she came back from heaven, I knew how badly she was hurting and I tried to comfort her as much as I could while we were together for those few hours. I just figured that sheíd be okay though, because she was Buffy, the strongest woman Iíve ever known. I think I forgot somewhere along the way how young she still was, and that she wasnít only the Slayer, she was a girl as well. I told her that night that I loved her. I swore to her that I would be there whenever she needed me.

I lied.

 

Buffy:

I donít know what Iím doing.

Iím just driving. Well, shaking and driving. I have no idea where to even begin looking. I patrolled Restfield Cemetery and Weatherly Park and a whole bunch of other graveyards, but Angel was no where to be found. And then I realized how stupid that was, seeing as how it was day, and...you know, Angelís allergic to sunlight.

I canít shake this feeling that somethingís happened to him. Something bad, and itís entirely my fault. I yelled at him, and cried and made him feel guilty. But then I remind myself that I wasnít the only one doing the yelling. He hurt me, too. Well, there was lot of hurt, but mostly just confusion. I was more confused after his visit than I think Iíve ever been in my entire life.

And he was only there for about 20 minutes.

I put on my blinker and pull the car over to the shoulder, stopping completely. I grasp the steering wheel tightly, then drop my head to it, defeated. I have no idea where to go. Angel could be anywhere between here and L.A., and thatís a hell of a lot of ground to cover. //Where are you, Angel?// I think to myself, perhaps believing for a split second that he would magically answer.

Then it hits me.

I put the car in drive, and make a screeching U-turn.

**********************************

As I step up the driveway to the entrance of the mansion, I begin doubting myself. The two voices in my head begin to quarrel. //What if heís not here?// //Donít be an idiot, Summers. Youíre just chickening out cuz you know heís in there//

My mind is made up. I know heís here, and I just have to suck it up and face him. In essence, face my fears. I slowly open the door and slip through, into the darkness and emptiness of what was once Angelís home. I walk through right into the living room, and our eyes meet. Heís sitting by the fire, the buttons of his black shirt open. When he sees me he immediately gets up, looks at me, and then looks at the ground.

"You found me," he says to me.

"Iíll always find you," I reply with a sad smile. Slowly, I walk towards him, then sit on the arm of one of the couches of the room. My eyes never leave him. "I was worried. I thought something happened to you."

"Sorry," he whispers. After a moment, he adds, "Something did happen to me." I am startled by his comment, not sure I understand. My silence lets him know that I need more to go on. He exhales a deep, unnecessary breath, and explains. "It hurt, Buffy. It hurt to find out that you could only find solace in Spike, that he was the only one." I look down as well now, not being able to look him in the eye as he talks about Spike. "And I know how stupid it was of me to tell you about my life like that. I never wanted it to be like that. I thought, when the time was right to tell you about my son, then I would, and it would be special. Iím sorry, Buffy." Our eyes meet once again, and I can see the tears forming in his eyes.

"I know," I state. "Iím sorry, too." A long moment of silence passes between us. "Whatís his name?" I inquire quietly. Angel looks slightly surprised at my question, but gives me a small, grateful smile.

"Connor." I smile as well as a tear rolls down my cheek. Despite the pain I feel, I am also indescribably happy for Angel. "Thatís a beautiful name," I say. He nods his appreciation, and I can see a tinge of pride in his eyes.

As we sit side by side on the couch, he tells me about his son, describes in vivid detail the long story of what he went through, with a vampire hunter named Holtz and the kidnapping of his son. I canít believe all that has gone on his life.

And canít believe that I wasnít there for any of it.

When Angel tells me everything I want to know about his Connor, I decide to start up an extremely tense conversation.

"Tell me about Cordelia."

****************************************

CHAPTER 5

Angel:

"Tell me about Cordelia."

I look at Buffy warily, not really understanding why she would ask such a question. She stares back levelly, and I know she wonít quit until she knows whatís going on. "What do you want to know?" I ask innocently, even though Iím fully aware of what sheís really asking.

"Youíre in love with her." Itís not a question, Buffy just simply states it, and I am surprised at how calm and collected she seems to be. Maybe finding out didnít hurt her as much as I thought it did.

Maybe that fact bothers me more than Iíd like to admit.

"I donít know," I say honestly, not sure how my feelings add up anymore. "I mean, I thought that there might be something there between the two of us, but then...I come back here, and everything changes." I look down at my folded hands on my lap, trying to come up with the best way to explain it to her. "I donít know what Iím feeling anymore. I just...I havenít seen you in over a year, havenít even talked to you. Maybe it was kind of like out of sight out of mind."

"Well, that's nice to know," she says, offended by my statement.

"No, Buffy, thatís not what I meant. You know how I feel about you. Maybe I just...forgot, for a little while. I just figured that you had your own life, you were okay, and I had to get on with mine."

"Youíre wrong, Angel." I look at her questioningly. "I donít know how you feel about me anymore. I mean, first you tell me youíre in love with Cordelia, then you say that youíre not sure how you feel about either of us. Whatís going on with you?" Buffy looks so confused, and it tears me to know that Iíve instilled such doubt in her.

Doubt about my for love her.

I decide instead to turn the tables, not wanting to completely bare my heart without knowing how she feels first. "How do you feel about me?" She gazes up at me, an incredulous expression on her face.

"How can you ask me that?" I remain quiet, just look into her eyes. She reaches for my hand and grasps it tightly, bringing her other hand up to caress my cheek, covered with a dayís stubble. The look on her face is as if she desperately needs me to understand, once and for all. "You are the only man that Iíve ever been completely in love with. Youíre the only one thatís ever been apart of me, mind, body and soul. And...when you left, a part of me died, Angel. I donít want to hurt you by saying this, but itís time you know the whole truth." Tears appear in the green depths of her eyes, and I long to reach up and wipe them away forever. "Riley was denial, plain and simple. I somehow convinced myself that I could make it work with a nice, normal guy. That I could spend my entire life by his side, and give him everything I had to offer.

"But I knew, deep down, that it was all a lie. I knew that it was impossible for me to do all those things because I closed off my heart to anyone but you. I made damn sure that no one else could look into my eyes and just...see my soul. When I came back from heaven, I felt like I wasnít even capable of love anymore, because that was the last straw. I mean, in my life, I lost my soulmate, my mother, my life, and my salvation. And that was all within a span of about 3 years." Tears now begin to roll down her cheeks, and I carefully wipe each one away with tender fingers. I cry with her.

"Angel, I donít love Spike. I never did, and I never will. Yes, he has a soul, and yes, I do care about him. But it wasnít real. How could it be?" As she finishes her affirmation of her love for me, she lets out a sigh and, despite herself, smiles slightly. "Boy, I just keep talking, donít I?" Right then I pull her face close and kiss her fiercely, with abandon. She moans into my mouth, and immediately responds. Her hands reach up to tangle in the thickness of my hair, and she pulls me as close to her as she possibly can. As we rediscover the contours of each otherís mouths, I gently push her back on the couch, covering her form with mine.

I don't know if Iíll be able to stop.

**************************************

Buffy:

As he pushes me back on the couch and presses the length of his body against mine, I tenderly reach out and cover his chest with feather-light touches. He sighs as he kisses my neck, and I know that this is the first time I've felt heaven since I've actually been there. As we continue our explorations, I know that we have to stop before we cross that line that can never be crossed again. I place a small kiss on his neck as well, but then begin to tense.

"Angel," I whisper into his ear. "We have to stop now, please." He tenses as well, lifts his body partially off mine, propping himself up on his elbows and placing a strand of hair behind my ear. He has an expression of both anguish and happiness, and I know my face reflects the same emotions. Angel kisses my forehead softly, then gets up, and I involuntarily whimper at the loss of contact. He reaches out his hand and I take it as he helps me to my feet as well.

As we face each other, Angel places his hands on either side of my face, and intently looks into my eyes. "I'm sorry, I didnít mean to lose control like that." I place a finger to his lips, and stare at their soft, pink colour as I do so.

"Donít ever be sorry for touching me," I reply, reassuring him. We stand there for a long moment, both of us unsure of what to do next.

"What do we do?" Angel asks me, saying the words we are both thinking aloud. There is such confusion in his eyes, and I know what I have to do.

"You have some things that you need to figure out. I think there's a lot of stuff youíre still unsure about, and Iím not going to get in the way of you finding out." He looks like he wants to disagree, but doesn't voice his opinion. I reach a hand out to outline the features of his face, and my heart breaks at the words I am about to say. "You have to figure out what you feel, for me, for Cordy."

"Buffy-"

"No," I cut him off softly. "No more secrets." I stand up a bit straighter, grasp his hand tightly, and, with confidence say, "Youíll come back to me. And Iíll be waiting. I'll wait for you forever."

Angel smiles slightly, then leans in and chastely kisses my cheek. Then, in my ear, he whispers, "I love you Buffy Summers."

At nightfall, Angel heads back to L.A., to try and fully understand his purpose, his path, and, more importantly, his heart. When he leaves this time though, I donít shed any tears.

Because I know that Iíll see him again.


//

Rains of sand slip through your hands
Never ceasing time
Fold your hands in silent prayer
Eternal peace you'll find

Like two rivers flow
to the open sea
Someday we'll reunite
for all eternity

Let the rain falling on your face
Run in to your eyes
Can you see the rainbow now
Through the stormy skies

Like two rivers flow
to the open sea
Someday we'll reunite
for all eternity

Standing in the rising tide
Heaven's light shines on you
On you, on you

Test the sea rising at your feet
How far can you go
'Til you need God's helping hand
To ride the under-toe


Like two rivers flow
to the open sea
Someday we'll reunite
for all eternity

Someday we'll reunite
for all eternity//

************************************

THE END