The tears were becoming more than a little repetitive. Buffy wiped at her eyes as she sat up in Angel's bed, fresh tears from reliving the events that led to Angel's death cascading down her cheeks. It seemed she'd been right, that memory would permanently replay itself every time she closed her eyes. Sometimes even without her eyes closed she could see the whole thing crystal clear, the betrayal in his eyes, the confusion beforehand. That's what hurt the most. That he hadn't even had the slightest idea at the time what was going on . . . that he'd had absolutely no knowledge of the events of the past three months.
Wiping the tears away didn't prevent more from coming in their place, and she stood in frustration, waiting for them to go away, refusing to give in to the sobs her body insisted upon. After several minutes passed she finally regained control, and she used the water from the kitchen sink to wipe away any trace of the tears. She wished Angel had a teleivison, but of course he didn't, and that took away the one thing she'd found that could distract her from the past. Surprisingly being in the same bed where everything had begun had no effect on her, the pain from that experience seemed almost trivial compared to the pain of what had happened in the mansion a little ways out of town.
Tonight, only five hours away, she would descend into Hell after her love. She didn't think Hell itself could compete with the torment of her memories, so she wasn't very concerned. What bothered her more was how to pass those five hours. Sleep was out of the question, she couldn't take another trip into the moment her duty had finally become more important than what was right and wrong to her. She smiled softly, Giles should have been so proud of her. He'd always wanted her to think of duty before anything or anyone else, and that day she had. For the first time in her life, duty became all that mattered. Of course, if she hadn't done what she had, not only would Angel have gone into the portal to Hell, the rest of the world would have followed him. That knowledge, however, did absolutely nothing to comfort her.
The telephone rang. Buffy blinked and looked at it in surprise, wondering if it was for her. Deciding there was no harm in answering it anyway, she picked up the receiver. "Yeah?"
"Buffy? It's Giles," Giles replied. "I wanted to ask you to come to the library so you can prepare for the ritual."
"What's there to prepare for?" Buffy asked.
Giles cleared his throat. "Well, we have to set up," he told her.
"And you can't do that without me?" Buffy retorted, then sighed heavily. "Look, Giles, I came back for one reason and one reason only. Angel. He didn't deserve to be a sacrifice for the world. But as soon as he's out, I'm gone. This isn't a hard concept to grasp. I don't want to help you set up, I don't want to talk to you, or anyone else. My mind is made up."
"I just wanted your help setting up," Giles answered evenly. "That's all."
"Well, you're not getting it," Buffy said testily. "Look, Giles, I'm sorry if I was supposed to come back and suddenly out of nowhere just be totally fine. But it's not going to happen. You have what you wanted, the Slayer the textbooks demand. You should be happy."
"Buffy, the Hellmouth is here," he said flatly. "This is where you are needed."
Buffy sighed and closed her eyes. "Giles . . . I can't stay here," she told him softly. "I just can't. After all that's happened . . . I've lost too much. Not even Angel, so much as myself. I've lost so much of myself in these past few months . . . no, in these past two years. It's not that I'm refusing to be the Slayer . . . it's that I'm losing myself in being the Slayer. Do you understand at all what I'm trying to say? I'm not Buffy Summers any more, I'm the Slayer. And I can't live like that."
"Buffy . . . " Giles trailed off. "I don't know what to say to make you change your mind," he admitted gently after a moment's pause.
"Then don't try," Buffy replied. "It's too late. It may not be too late to save Angel, but it's too late to save myself. I don't . . . I don't know who I am anymore, Giles. That I . . . when did it change?" she asked rhetorically, more tears dripping from her eyes. "When did things become so . . . " She whimpered softly and for a moment couldn't continue. "When did things become so hard?" she asked finally.
Giles felt an overwhelming amount of sympathy for Buffy in that moment, more than he'd thought possible. The girl who'd walked into the library one morning and asked for a textbook was truly lost, and he had no idea how to bring her back. "I don't know, Buffy," he replied quietly.
"Me either," she said with a small smile Giles couldn't see. "I should go; let you guys prepare for this ritual."
Giles nodded, all of his arguments lost. "I'll see you later tonight," he answered.
"Bye," Buffy said quietly before hanging up the phone and heading towards the shower.
*****
The others were waiting in the library for Buffy to arrive, the only ones not present being Joyce Summers and Oz. Willow was out of her wheelchair, thankfully, and was seated in a chair at the table, watching Giles pace as Xander and Cordelia argued quietly.
The library doors opened, and the Slayer walked in, looking more composed than she had the last time they'd seen her, and a little more well rested at that. "Well, I'm here," she said needlessly. "Are we ready?"
Giles nodded, slipping into Watcher mode as he began to explain. "You'll have to be alone to perform it," he informed her. "Our energy will just tamper with the portal. When it opens you will only have approximately ten minutes, but as long as you're focused on Angel finding him shouldn't be a problem. Do not allow yourself to be distracted by anything else, or you'll put yourself at risk."
Buffy nodded as Willow handed her an old book from off the table. It was open to the page containing the spell, and Buffy skimmed it quickly. "Do we have all this stuff?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she glanced up at Giles.
He nodded, gesturing towards the end of the table. Buffy followed his gaze and shrugged somewhat sheepishly as she saw all the necessary supplies were already there taking up one end of the table. "Everything you'll need should be there," he replied. "We'll be in the cafeteria should you decide to stay," he added.
Buffy glared at him, started to reply, then just sighed in frustration and remained silent, her point abundantly clear to the others. Giles helped Willow to stand, while Xander and Cordelia both turned to the Slayer. "Buffy," Cordelia said reluctantly. Buffy turned towards her. "Good luck," she said sincerely.
Buffy offered her a half smile. "Thanks," she replied quietly.
The others filed out, until only Xander remained. Buffy stared at him curiously. "Buff," Xander said, clearing his throat and looking towards the ground, "It's my fault."
"What is?" she asked.
"About . . . " He sighed heavily. "Willow told me to tell you about the ritual to restore Angel's soul, and I didn't. If I had . . . things might've been different. I'm sorry." He started towards the doors, not giving her a chance to say anything, then stopped and looked back at her. "Be careful."
When Buffy looked back up Xander was already gone. She stared at the door quietly for a moment, then sighed and walked towards the table where the supplies for the ritual were laid out. Taking a seat, she pulled the heavy tome over to her and began to read, following the instructions as she did so.
Once she had combined several herbs, lit three red candles and three white candles, and placed a crystal of protection around her neck, she skimmed the incantation she had to say. The words were in ancient latin, which wasn't surprising, and relatively long at that. She mouthed them to herself in an attempt to get the pronunciation right, then cleared her throat, feeling slightly silly despite the seriousness of the ritual. Somehow sitting in a darkened library with only candles for light and the unpleasant smell of herbs filling her nostrils was reminiscent of several corny witchcraft movies she'd seen in her lifetime.
It was time to actually start the ritual. Buffy remembered Giles' words of warning, remain focused on Angel and only Angel, no other thoughts could enter her mind. That wasn't exactly a challenge. She began to read, the words coming surprisingly easy to her as she uttered them. When she'd finished she closed her eyes, trying to remember exactly what the book had said as she did so. Focus all her energy onto the candles. It sounded odd. But she did so anyway, trying to wrap her mind around the candles she could see after-imaged against her eyelids.
She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. A clap of thunder, or a flash of lightning, maybe. She hadn't been expecting the softest of whispers, like a gentle breeze blowing through the library, almost entirely silent, as though she were rubbing her hands together. When Buffy opened her eyes again, the portal was there in place of the candles.
For a moment she was surprised, as the portal didn't look the same as it had in the mansion. This portal wasn't orange and gray, but a swirling mixture of colors, of reds and blues, silvers and whites, grays and pinks. Absolutely beautiful. Then she remembered her purpose and pushed those thoughts away from her mind entirely, instead focusing on Angel. On every moment she'd ever spent with him, from their first meeting to their last.
As she stepped through she became paranoid for a moment, and it took everything she had not to whirl back around and make sure the portal was still open. Giles had said she would have approximately ten minutes, she had to put those minutes to use.
She couldn't see. It hadn't been at all what she was expecting; no Dante's Inferno of fire and brimestones, just a deathly silence that was almost more frightening. No screams of the tormented echoed, there was no sound at all. Again she was being distracted, and Buffy cursed herself mentally. She had to remain focused. She mentally blocked every thought from entering her mind except for thoughts of Angel. His little smirk whenever something amused him, the way he'd always managed to look as though his crimes exceeded those of the worst criminals known to history. So much guilt, so much pain, and not even for one second had he ever even seemed to consider that the entity who'd committed those sins and himself were separate
As Buffy walked through the blackness she kept her thoughts on Angel entirely. She felt as though she'd been walking for over twenty miles before she finally heard a sound. It was the first sound she'd heard since she had stepped through the portal, and she turned towards it instantly.
It was Angel. He was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, and it appeared as though he were leaning back. But since all Buffy could see was blackness, she couldn't be certain that it wasn't an illusion. She stepped forward, and Angel looked up, his eyes locking on hers. She wasted no time with saying hello, instead she grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet. He looked confused, the same confused and bewildered expression he'd had on his face when his soul had been restored, only moments before she'd pushed him into the place she was now retrieving him from. Wasting absolutely no time, Buffy ran, refusing to allow her mind to be distracted. She was still thinking only of Angel and nothing else, just in case. She was also practically pulling him the entire way, but she didn't bother to look back.
She continued running through the blackness, one arm behind her firmly gripping Angel's hand, refusing to let go, and in fact holding on tighter with every step she took. Finally, she saw the light at the end of the dark tunnel, so to speak, the same swirling mixture of colors that she'd entered into. Tightening her grip on Angel's hand even more, she stepped through it, pulling him from behind her and then in front of her. She was slightly embarrassed by her sudden panic, but seeing Angel had given her the knowledge that if she hadn't been thinking entirely of him, she would truly see Hell for what it really was, and that was knowledge she had absolutely no desire to possess.
The portal shut and disappeared with that same eerily quiet noise which had heralded it's appearance. The candles had blown out, the herbs had disappeared, and the chair Buffy had been seated in as she'd performed the ritual was now broken. Apparently the quiet portal to Hell packed more of a punch than Buffy had realized.
She glanced towards Angel as she rubbed her eyes to try and make the spots of color disappear from her vision. He was on the floor. Apparently Buffy had thrown him there when she'd pulled him through the portal. He stared at her with a completely and utterly lost expression that made her want more than anything to hold him. Of course she did nothing of the sort, instead running a hand through her hair, and then extending that same hand to him to help him to his feet.
Angel looked at her, then at her offered hand, and shook his head in an attempt to clear it as he accepted her help in rising. "What . . . ?" Angel started, then shook his head again and just stared at her silently.
Buffy stared back at him evenly, her defenses going as high up as she could put them, as she knew she was going to need every ounce of strength she possessed to walk away from him, far more strength than she'd needed to leave Sunnydale and her friends behind. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, glancing back towards where the portal had been. "It was necessary. And it wasn't your fault, but it was the only way to shut the portal. I just came back to Sunnydale to get you out." She waited, her arms crossed protectively over her chest.
Angel blinked and leaned against the table for support. "It's okay," he replied softly.
"Good," Buffy answered. "And now I'm leaving. Permanently." She once again waited for a reply, feeling as though it was the least she owed him.
"Leaving?" he queried, glancing up at her from under his lashes. "W - why?" he shook his head a third time, still not entirely aware yet.
Buffy sighed slightly. "It's the only way," she replied flatly. "And besides, I'm sure you'd leave if I didn't, this way you get to stay awhile, and I'll be the one skipping town." She stared at him for a moment, allowing herself to take pleasure from the fact that he was truly there, and that she'd succeeded. Then she turned and started for the door.
"Buffy, wait!" Angel commaned her, taking a step forward, then stopping as the world spun in reply to his movement. "Please," he whispered, knowing that he wasn't in any condition to prevent her from leaving physically.
Buffy swallowed tightly, more tempted than she wanted to admit. It would have been so easy to collapse in Angel's arms and sob against his shoulder, it would have felt so right . . . but it would be wrong, she reminded herself. 'Why?' part of her mind begged desperately. 'Because', she replied to herself, 'if I stay it'll only cause more pain, to everyone.' "For what, Angel?" she retorted. "Nothing you can say is going to change a damn thing. And I'm not leaving because of you, or what happened after we made love, or anything like that. I'm leaving because of me, because it's the only thing I can do."
Angel took another step towards her, trying desperately to make the world remain in one place so he could try and reach her. "Why?" he asked again. "Why is it the only thing you can do?"
"I'm not having this conversation," Buffy replied simply. "Angel, you'll never know how sorry I am . . . truly, you won't. But I have to leave. We won't see each other again. It's the only way," she repeated. She turned her back on him and continued towards the door.
Where Angel found the strength to move towards her and grab her arm he would never be able to say, but he did. He physically turned her back around to face him, all weakness disappearing with the strength of his concern. "Buffy," he told her sharply, "you can't leave."
"And you're going to stop me?" she retorted, shaking free of his grasp and rolling her eyes heavenward. "Look, Angel, this is the way it is. I realize you've missed a lot here, but such is life, ya know? I'm going. And you can't prevent that. So deal with it."
Angel sighed slightly, leaning back against the counter as his burst of strength evaporated. "Buffy, there's no reason for you to leave," he told her.
Buffy glared at him. "Why?"
"Because you're right . . . I'll leave."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "It's always gotta be about you, doesn't it?" She groaned in frustration. "You just get out of Hell, and already you're arguing with me. I'm leaving because of me, not because of what you THINK you're responsible for. In fact I already had left, I only came back to get you out. You're out. I'm going. Have a nice life, try not to brood too much, and maybe I'll send you a postcard one day." She angrily tossed her hair away from her eyes before storming out of the library. This time Angel didn't follow.
CONTINUE