Summary: A Buffy/Angel story.
Spoilers: Everything is fair game.
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, no matter how much I wish they
were.
Rating: PG13, maybe.
by: Amy
******
She was always safe there. She could feel it, the security, the love of that embrace. Angel's arms. She always knew that nothing would hurt her there.
Until that night, the night that changed her life. The night that took away all that she held dear, in her loved ones and in herself. A light shined into her soul. So briefly, and it was so dark after, but the light was so strong and beautiful. After that night, she knew that nothing would ever be the same. Her heart was broken as it should be, she should never have allowed herself that kind of security. She was the Slayer. She should have known better.
But love made it's own rules. Nothing to know, she learned later. Everything was gone so fast, that by the time she would learn it, the lesson wouldn't apply. Jenny died because of her. Someone that her Watcher loved almost as much as he loved her, and she had taken that woman away from him. She could have done something more. But she was weak.
Her heart broke when she looked up at Angel's face that night, weeks later. His face, so full of love for her, replaced by a disdainful scowl of hate. Where did that hate come from? she wondered briefly. The kiss, so special and full of light that did not really belong to them, lingered in her, giving her strength for what was ahead. She forgave herself that night.
She didn't know, then, that that would be the last time she would forgive herself.
As her strength grew, so did her recognition of the fact that she was not fighting the man that she loved more than life. Of course, she had always known that in her mind. But the heart is a separate being, and and has a different etiquette. So, she persevered, and she could distinguish the man that she loved from the demon that killed him.
That demon took Angel away from her. He took her energy for life, her trust in all things good, and her love and killed it in the time lapse of a single second. Her hate grew, too.
It grew until it reached a breaking point. A point in life where she knew that if she did not kill that demon, she would die. A point where she had not only forgiven herself, but was ready to start her life again. Was ready to trust and love and hope. She was ready. And she reached that point, with love in her heart still. That love would help her along the path, she hoped. And she would remember it always, she knew.
The night fell. The sun rose. The light shined down on her. And still she had not killed him. She knew it was time. So she went to him, knowing that it needed to be done. Not only for the world, which needed her strength, but for herself. She needed her heart back. And as long as he lived, she would never have it. He needed to die, so she could mourn and weep one last time. So she could get off of her tearstained pillow with more than an empty heart. So she could live.
And it went perfectly. She didn't think it would, but at the moment when he challenged what was left in her life, she knew that it would all fall into place. She *was* strong enough to do it. Finally. She caught the sword in the palms of her hands, looked calmly into his eyes, (eyes that she had once been able to see into) and claimed that she still had herself. She would always have that.
She shoved the sword back, hitting his head. Metal clashed against metal, and she moved with a whole new energy. A long lost energy. A long lost love. Angel's love. He was with her, she suddenly knew. He would always be. She raised her sword. He would always be....
And a light shined. Her enemy trembled. His head fell and his eyes closed. When he looked back up, she knew that it was no longer her enemy. The light was in her heart, then, even as she lowered her sword and was uncertain, her heart rejoiced. He pulled her into his arms, close and tight like he used to. Before the light first shined. And she embraced him back. All she felt was love. The light *was* love, she realized in that second.
She looked up. She later wished that she never had, but she looked up. She saw a different light, and she knew that she would never forgive herself again. She looked into his rich eyes, confused by secrets and overwhelmed with his love for her and she told him she loved him. When he returned the words, she stored them in her heart for later, as something that she could always look back on and say 'I did that right. That was the one thing that was perfect. The only kind of perfection that I've ever seen, and I helped create it. He loved me.'
And she killed him.
*****
The moss has grown over the grave marking. He stops for a moment to rest a white rose with blush on the tips next to the marker. The name should not be on that grave, he knows. But it was, and though his heart breaks, it is still filled with so much love--too much love.
Buffy Summers, it reads. His fingers lightly trace the scripted name and he sighs with a breath that isn't needed. He looks back in time, to memories that he sometimes wishes weren't so sharp.
When he got out of Hell. When he healed. When she healed him.
She was every source of light and comfort to him. Even after they realized that they could not be together, he loved her. How could he not? And their occasional forbidden kisses were looked forward to for days, weeks, months. Whatever amount of time rested between them. That's all he did, in fact. He looked forward to her kisses. She brought so much to him, without ever even knowing it. He wished he could tell her now.
But that is not possible, he knows. He wants to be with her, more than life, but there is a new Slayer to train. And he is responsible for her. He also knows that Buffy would have wanted it this way.
She was always like that. Wanting the best to happen. She sacrificed so much, with one slash of the sword. He doesn't ever think about what that brought to him, it hurts too much. And he knows that she had to do it. But, instead, he thinks about what it took from her. How long it took her to get over it; Much longer than it took him. He wonders if she ever really forgave herself. God knows that he forgave her.
His tears fall on the neatly kept grass and disappear. He doesn't feel his knees sink to the ground. He doesn't realize it as he begins to sob like a broken man. His voice is ragged and harsh, but he doesn't hear it. He only hears her, in those last few moments before he went to Hell. He hears her say that she loved him. He hears the love. It is his favorite memory, those words. Three times she spoke them, and he has kept them in his heart until now. He has kept them a secret, even from himself. It hurt too much. But now, as he kneels beside her grave, he knows he must remember. He will never let those words go.
His hands clutch the grass and the dirt, and he looks at the stone once more, tears still half-blinding his eyes. "I'll always love you, Buffy." His voice is soft and sad, as he realizes the utter truth. No one but her, for the rest of his life. The wind whistles, and he looks up, hearing something.
Her voice gives an echo through the treetops. "I'll always love *you*, Angel. And I will wait, until you can be with me. I love you...." His eyes are open and dry and he knows that he has just heard her for the last time in his earthly life. He wants to be with her, then, but he knows he cannot. It would be tainted if he left right now.
So he gets up and looks down at the gravesight one last time. "Forever."
He turns and goes. He needs to train his Slayer later, and he has to speak with some people beforehand. He leaves the cemetery.
And a light still shines.
End