rating: probably pg-13, max (and only for the epilogue)
spoilers: not much, just have to know who riley is, and really not even that... A BIT ANGSTY, BUT NOT TOO BAD
disclaimer: only the Light Keeper is mine, the rest are the wonderful creations of joss' (temporarily insane) genius
feedback: love some-- need to know whether to keep writing or shut up now--
well, here goes nothing...

ONE

He sat alone, staring at the clear amber liquid in the glass in front of him, only a few shades lighter than the topaz gleam of the bottle that stood beside it.

Slowly swirling a finger around the rim of the glass, he watched the subtle ripples that worked their way towards the edge, like tiny waves in a miniature lake. Lifting the glass, he raised it until the pungent fumes assailed his nostrils, and awakened senses dead for several lifetimes. Funny, he mused, how some things stick with you your entire life... A derisive laugh escaped at that thought (for what kind of *life* was there for a creature such as he, who existed as one of the walking dead, and had done so for over two centuries?), and he downed the liquor in one burning gulp.

His gaze strayed to the cheap table, dented and scarred by its previous owners over who knows how many happy years, and a deluge of unbidden memories assailed him: her face as he kissed her, her smile when she felt his heartbeat, her skin, luminous in the moonlight...and her eyes, haunted by pain when he said goodbye. A sad, bitter smile touched his face as he thought of what he had given up: the only treasure in his worthless world, and the only person who would ever mean more to him than his soul. In the dark, alone, he could admit to himself what he never wanted her to know. It wasn't fear of losing his soul, or his wishes for a better life for her, that drove him away; it was the never-ending dread that one day she would see him as he saw himself, a pathetic, weak creature unworthy of her love, and he would have to watch as the adoration in her eyes changed to contempt, or worse, pity.

Sometimes, though, like tonight, when the loneliness flayed his heart and the longing to see her, to hold her, burned within him like a mortal wound, he wondered if it was worth it... With a tired sigh, he refilled the glass, determined to drink a certain Slayer off his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TWO

She sat in her room, staring listlessly at the items in her suitcase. It was the end of the spring semester, and with two weeks before the summer session started, she planned to spend some time with her mother, free at least from the demands of coursework, if not the duties of protecting the world. Reaching a hand to touch the silver cross at her neck, she wondered where he was, what he was doing. It had been a year since he left, and other than that brief encounter last Thanksgiving, she hadn't heard a word. Oh, she knew he was still alive, Cordelia would have informed them of his death, and besides, surely she would have *felt* his passing, but in some ways that knowledge made the separation harder to accept. Instead of lessening her longing, time seemed only to reduce the frequency of her pain... Yeah, she thought with a humorless laugh, now Ionly think about him five or six times a day, instead of every other minute.

But when the thoughts came, the hurt was just as sharp as the day she watched him disappear, in a cloud of smoke. Oh, she had tried to move on, to start over, and sometimes she thought she was making it; she had new opportunities here at UC Sunnydale, she still had her friendships with Willow and Xander, and now there was Riley...

Riley. She sighed with despair. Riley was a nice guy; he was thoughtful, and charming, and sweet, and, she thought, halfway in love with her. In addition, they shared a commitment to slaying demons, and no-one was more dedicated to protecting other than Riley Finn. Furthermore, he was comfortable with her strength and determination, her stubbornness, her divided loyalties, in short, all the things that made her the Slayer, in a way that she couldn't imagine most boys being. What was it, then, that made it impossible for her to truly open her heart to him? Oh, she liked him, cared for him, even, but not in that gut- wrenching, all consuming way she used to love Angel... no, that was lying to herself, the way she still loved Angel, present tense. She loved that man more strongly than she could ever have imagined... and that's when it hit her. Riley *was* sweet, he *was* charming, he *was* thoughtful--- and he *was* a boy.

Oh, to be sure, he was saddled with an enormous amount of responsibility, which he handled with great aplomb, but he was still a boy, and how was she to ever move on after having known the love of such a remarkable man as Angel? She knew he would never agree with her, would never see himself the way she saw him, but to her he was magnificent. He had lived with unimaginable guilt for longer than anyone should ever have to, but it hadn't hardened him, or made him apathetic to the needs of others; quite the contrary, he placed everyone above himself, and she had no doubt that he would have sacrificed himself many times over for her, and her friends. Even that confidence did not do his true character justice, because she knew that now he risked himself for strangers. Oh, he would claim his actions were those of a penitent seeking to make amends, but she knew better; he acted out of the compassion of a beautiful, artistic soul, who had the misfortune of being trapped in a time of despair and chaos. If anyone needed to make amends, it was her, because she had somehow failed to make him see just how wonderful he really was, and how fortunate any woman would be to have him in her life.

Two tears tracked their way slowly down her cheeks as she went to the dresser, and retrieved the last item she would pack. She never left for more than a day without it. Sometimes she just needed to touch it, to remember... sometimes at night she wrapped herself in it, and cried herself to sleep. Tonight, she lifted his shirt to her face, and wept for all that was lost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THREE

Angel gave up. Three hours and ten glasses later he was out of bourbon, and no closer to oblivion than when he started. So, with no-one around to talk him out of it, he did what he had done several times over the past months; he got in his car, and drove down to see her. Oh, he never spoke to her, never let her or her friends see him, just watched her, drinking in her face, her smiles, like a dying man gulps his last breaths.

It was Friday, but he took the chance that she'd be on campus still. He parked his car, and walked to the cluster of trees that provided him with a good vantage point from which to see her room; it was a path he knew well. He paused beneath a massive oak, and reluctantly lifted his gaze. The last time he had been here, he had seen her in the embrace of another man. While it was what he wanted for her, the knowledge that *moving on* was the right thing for her didn't lessen the stab of anguish that pierced his heart at the sight of his beloved in another's arms. Tonight, however, the pain was even worse, because the sight that met his eyes was even more agonizing; his Buffy, his sunshine girl, alone and weeping as if her heart was broken. He cursed the cruel fates that made their love impossible, and stood in the night, aching for her pain, tears of blood trailing down his face.

Suddenly, a silent wind swirled through the air, and a sense of unease, of something unnatural, tingled along his spine. On guard, he glanced swiftly around, but the only thing he found was a small green feather, lying atop his foot. Bending to retrieve it, he was jolted by a surge of energy that left him momentarily paralyzed. As he straightened, the feather seemed to glow, and a ghostly voice whispered in his ear, "Thus it is foretold."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FOUR

Giles sat in his apartment, a massive volume of ancient prophecy open on his lap. The light from the lamp over his left shoulder bathed the text in ambient light, and left his face in shadow. Wearily he rubbed the bridge of his nose, and wondered if it would ever end. The ceaseless search for the next crisis, the perpetual desperation to find the means to avert yet another catastrophe, the burden of always bringing Buffy the worst of news. Never a *how's your day*, or a *take a vacation*, always the task of telling the girl who was more to him than just a Slayer that, once again, that the fate of humanity rested on her shoulders and, sorry, the world must be saved tonight, or tomorrow...

If he read the signs correctly, the next few days would be a great challenge for Buffy. Oh, not in the metaphysical sense, because the supernatural seemed rather more natural these days, but dealing with the anniversary of Angel's departure couldn't be easy for her. He'd watched her with rather more concern than usual these past weeks, as the end of the semester neared, and he saw glimpses of what she strove so determinedly to hide: the sadness in her eyes, the less than overwhelming feelings she had for Riley, the emptiness in her life, and , probably most of all, the burden of pretending she was fine when every day her soul died a little more. Giles was startled out of his dark introspection by the sound of tinkling bells. Shaken, he leapt to his feet and looked for an explanation for the musical sound in a house devoid of chimes. A swirling green mist appeared, and coalesced into the form of a woman. She was tall and willowy, with cascades of auburn curls framing her face and trailing past her waist. She wore a tunic of forest green, adorned with feathers, which swirled around her body as if alive.

"Greetings, he who watches", she aid, "I have come to bring you that which is foretold"

"Who are you?", Giles asked.

"I am She Who Keeps the Light, Guardian of The Wheel".

"Guardian of The Wheel... But that's a myth, a story invented by the Celtic people. No documentation was ever found, no citings confirmed..."

"Do you doubt the wisdom of your own heart, of the vision of your soul? Look within yourself, Rupert Giles, and ask what doubts remain. I am She Who Keeps the Light, ordained by the Druids long ago to insure the balance when it would be tested"

"Balance? What *Balance*? And why have you appeared now?"

A look of great sorrow crossed her timeless features, and her voice became grave as she replied,

"The Balance is that which exists between the Slayer's hope and her realism. She fights daily, that all mankind may live, and her heart is broken, piece by piece, along the way. It is her hope that sustains her when the burden of her calling presses so heavily upon her, but this hope dies with each wound to her soul, and soon its flame flickers and is gone. This is why the Slayer dies young; she falls before her torment crushes her hope, and before the disillusionment of her life drains her will to save. But now, the Slayer has survived, long past most of her kind, and her skills have grown far beyond her predecessors. It is her heart, though, which suffers most, and which threatens to destroy her hope. I take you to task, Rupert Giles, and I charge with that which is foretold."

With those words, the spirit disappeared in a flash of emerald. The only sign that she had ever been there was a piece of parchment, ancient and tattered around the edges, stamped with the seal of the Codex. Giles walked over and hesitantly picked up the paper, quickly scanning its contents.

"My God", he whispered, his face white, "my God, what have we done?"

The paper fell from his hands, and fluttered slowly to the floor, to land there face up. Giles stood unmoving, stunned by what he had read, and the ramifications for Buffy... and Angel.

And there shall be one fallen
And the Fallen and the Slayer
shall join
And there will ensue a time
of great sorrow
And from the very mouth
of Hell
The fallen shall rise
And the Risen, both demon
and Angel
Will hold great power
And be as one with the Slayer
To fight that which is beyond
her strength
Thus it is foretold

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FIVE

Buffy entered her house, feeling a strange sense of alienation in the place that should have been her home. But then, that's how she felt often these days: a stranger where ever she was, never really at home. If she was honest with herself, her home had always been found in people, rather than places, and now the cornerstone of her security was gone... with a determined shake of her head, she vowed not to think about *him* any more, at least for the next few hours.

"Mom, I'm home" she called out.

"Buffy! I'll be down in just a minute" her mother's voice drifted from upstairs.

Drifting into the living room, she sat her small suitcase down, and clicked on the television. Finding nothing on except depressing stories about kidnapped children and multi-fatality accidents, she turned the set off, tilted her head back, and closed her eyes with a weary sigh. It was at that moment that Joyce walked quietly into the room, and looked, really looked, at her daughter for the first time in months. What she saw frightened her. Buffy had always been slender, but now she was thin to the point of frailty. Her eyes were sunken, and dark mauve shadows rimmed them underneath. The bones of her face and neck were prominent, and her wrists looked as if a sharp tug would snap them, like brittle twigs. But it was the look of unspeakable sadness that veiled her face that worried Joyce the most. Buffy looked like someone who had lost the one thing she loved most in the world, and, much as Joyce hated to consider it, she just might have. With a silent breath to brace herself for the conversation ahead, Joyce pasted a smile on her face, and stepped forward.

"Hi, honey, I wasn't expecting you for another hour."

Buffy opened her eyes, and smiled softly. "Well, I got done early with classes today, and thought I'd get an early start. Figured I'd have a little more time at h-home." Her voice broke on the last word, and her eyes misted with tears that were quickly blinked away.

"Honey, what's wrong? I can see that you're upset; is it school? Riley? The slaying? Please tell me."

"It's nothing, mom, just... the time of the year I guess. So much happened, so many people gone..."

"People, or Angel?" Joyce asked quietly.

Startled, Buffy looked at her mother. She never mentioned Angel, because her mom just didn't seem to understand, or want to, but now *she* was bringing up the topic. "Why would you think this is about Angel?"

"Because, much as I'd like to think otherwise, I'm starting to believe that what you felt, what you feel, for Angel is more than infatuation, and I know what it's like to lose someone you love. Besides, though I had high hopes, I don't think you're as involved with Riley as you'd like me to think." Joyce said, smiling sadly.

The tears Buffy was holding back welled silently over, and trailed freely down her cheeks like twin rivers of sorrow.

"I just can't let it go, mom. I know he left me, and I know he doesn't want to be with me anymore, but I feel as if part of me is dead, as if I'm walking around with half a body. Riley's sweet, he's a wonderful boy, but I could never feel about him the way I feel about Angel... Why, Mom? Why didn't he want to stay with me? I know we had problems, issues, but this, this is so much harder..."Buffy broke off, and buried her head in her hands, her shoulders heaving with silent sobs.

A troubled look crossed Joyce's face, as she put her arm around Buffy's shoulders and slowly rubbed her back.

"Buffy, there's something I think you should know; Angel didn't leave you because he didn't want to be with you. He left because..." She trailed off, unable to complete the sentence she was sure would drive a wedge between her and her daughter. The daughter she was just now getting to truly know.

"Because, why, mom?" Buffy asked, her eyes suddenly cold.

"Because I asked him to. Because I told him that you deserved more. Because I reminded him he was a man, and you were so young, and he should think of you before his own interests... Because I was afraid, Buffy, afraid of what the relationship meant. No children for you, no family, no normality. I just... wanted more for you."

Buffy stood up, her eyes blazing with anger. "Children? Family? What makes you think I'll have those things anyway? Just how am I supposed to carry a child when I'm fighting hand-to-hand with demons every night? And supposing I manage to have a child, what kind of mother would I be? How is a child supposed to cope with the fact that mommy's gone every night, that she might not be coming back every time she walks out the door? And, God, what if I have a little girl, and she's a Slayer, too? Do you think I would chance that? That I would burden my child with my life? Worst of all, what about the fact that a human family, a husband, a child, would be the perfect weapon against me? Do you think Riley, or any other guy, would be able to protect himself or our children when the forces of darkness come to call? And how am I supposed to fight the good fight with their lives held as leverage over my head? Did you even stop to think about what your good intentions would mean to me? Or did you just want Angel out of the picture, the one serious threat for your little girl's attention?"

"Buffy, please, I only wanted to spare your heart. I didn't want you hurt over a relationship that had no future..."

"Well you know what, mom, it didn't work. My heart aches every day, and it's a struggle to get through the night. Sometimes, when I'm on patrol, I wonder if it's really worth it. I think how easy it would be to not fight so hard, to just let go and not come back... how easy it would be to die. I think that's why it's the Slayer's destiny to die young; no one can live very long with a broken, disillusioned heart. My hope's gone, mom, and I don't think I can get it back." With those words, Buffy picked up her suitcase and headed for the door.

"Buffy, wait! Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Giles' house, maybe there's some great evil for me to fight tonight. Maybe if I'm lucky, it'll be stronger than I am..."

"Buffy! You don't mean that! Please, please, say you don't mean that! God, baby, please come back! Buffy! BUFFY!"

But Buffy walked numbly forward, immune to her mother's pleas, and the anguish in her voice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SIX

Giles was startled out of his thoughts by a knock on his door. Glancing at his watch, he saw the time was nearing midnight, and he wondered who would be arriving at this hour. Apprehensive, he went to the door.

"Who's there?" he queried.

"It's me, Giles. Open the door." said the voice he'd not thought to hear again for quite some time.

Opening the door, he saw Angel silhouetted in the dim glow from the security light. Wearing the ever present black duster atop a dark shirt and slacks, he seemed to blend in with the night. Only his pale face, shining whitely in the velvet midnight, revealed his presence.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course, of course..." Giles said as he ushered him inside, "What brings you to Sunnydale, Angel, I wasn't expecting..."

His voice trailed off as he saw the faint traces of red running along his face, almost as if someone had tinted his cheeks with watercolor paint, or crimson tears. "What's happened? Is something wrong? Is it Angelus, or..."

Angel looked upon this man whom he had wronged above all others, and wondered again how he could have forgiven him, how anyone could forgive him. Impatiently, he thrust aside those thoughts; this was about Buffy, not him. "It's Buffy, I... saw her in her room tonight. She was upset, crying. Is something wrong? She just seemed so... lost. I was worried. So I thought you should know, thought you might be able to help her."

Giles sighed. "This is all most coincidental. First the visitor and now this... Angel, are you familiar with the legend of She Who Keeps the Light?"

Angel looked shocked for a moment, then a small smile played across his face. "So she *is* real. That explains this." He produced the luminescent feather from his pocket, and proceeded to tell Giles of his encounter with the Light Keeper earlier in the evening.

"So, you had a visit from her tonight, as well. It seems that destiny is indeed a strange and wonderful force." So saying, Giles showed the prophecy to Angel.

"But, this means Buffy and I..."

"Yes, it means that the two of you were meant to be together. More than love or commitment, your union was foretold, a fulfillment of ancient prophecy. And, unless I badly miss my guess, you may be Buffy's only hope. It's my opinion that this foe 'which is beyond her strength' is the loss of her hope, the loss that will violate the 'Balance' the Light Keeper is sworn to protect."

"But, Giles, what's really changed? The same obstacles that tore us apart are still an issue... Dammit!! How am I supposed to help her ?!?!" As Angel spoke, he slammed his fist, the one holding the feather, on the table atop the parchment. Immediately, the same swirling mist that heralded the Light Keeper's appearance began to form in front of him and Giles, and this time the chimes were deafening. Within seconds, she was once again visible in form, and she began to speak.

"The obstacles between you are of your own making, vampire. Seek the truth within your heart, and know your soul's dark truths."

"What do you mean, 'of my own making'? What about the curse, Angelus...?"

"The curse you carry speaks to your heart, nothing more. If the remorse for your deeds did not dwell within you, no incantation would have brought it to the fore. What you perceive as your salvation, that which you call a 'curse', was nothing more than the power of a righteous conscience, pricked to the quick by the realization of your actions."

If possible, Angel grew even paler, and staggered backwards. "Then you're saying..."

"The restoration of your soul owes nothing to magick. It is merely the unveiling of what was always there. "

"But, what about when the curse was broken? I lost my soul again, and Angelus... God! What are you telling me ?!?!"

"I answer you with a question, vampire: what do you fear most?"

"To hurt those I love." he all but whispered.

"And what do you feel you deserve, vampire, for the actions of your past?"

"A lifetime of remorse... Oh, dear God, are you saying...?"

The Light Keeper turned a gentle smile upon him, and slowly nodded her head, her eyes full of compassion.

"Yes. When you changed, you were overtaken by the heady sense of power, and unable to control the forces that now dwelled within you. The 'curse' but gave you the incentive to harness your gifts, by rousing your compassion and your remorse. Unfortunately, your guilt was so strong, and your fear of hurting those you love so all-consuming, that your self-contempt for forgetting, for even a moment, all that you feel you must atone for drove you to retreat. You retreated to the only refuge strong enough to overpower the torture of your soul... it was the realization that you were about to kill Buffy, the one thing you most treasured, which freed your heart a second time, not the spell-castings of her friend. I have stayed silent, forbidden to reveal what we know lest we sway the Balance... but now, the Balance is lost, and the Slayer perilously close to destruction from within, and we are bound to do all that we may to save humanity's hope. I charge you now; bring Balance to the Slayer, and help her defeat her loss of hope."

With these words, she was gone.

Angel stood there, stunned, trying to comprehend all that he had been told and absorb what this meant for him, for Buffy. "Giles, I..."

"Not now, there's time enough for that later. For now, your task should be finding Buffy, and doing what you can to restore her hope. I think you'll find that..."

Giles voice trailed off as, with a wry smile, he realized he was talking to an empty room. Angel had already left, to find Buffy no doubt. Whistling, Giles went to the kitchen; this definitely called for tea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SEVEN

Buffy was halfway to Giles' house, her thoughts drifting over and over the conversation with her mother. Strangely, she felt no anger, no resentment, just a heavy sense of numbness, of... hopelessness. Maybe she would die tonight, or tomorrow night, or the night after. That thought filled her with calmness, with serenity, for what good was life without hope, without Angel?

"Angel..." she breathed his name into the night, the perfect setting for her only dream, the dream she would never see realized. Oh, for just one more day with him! Just one more touch... a sweet memory to ease her into the eternal sleep.

Suddenly, she stopped, sensing someone in the darkness, She dropped her suitcase and turned, stake held at the ready, to be confronted by... *him*. His duster blowing in the late spring wind.

"Angel?" she asked, in that soft, sad voice that tore his heart to shreds.

"It's me, Buffy."

"But.. I thought... w-what's g-going on here? Is th-this some n-new torture the fates h-have conjured up just for me? Is th-this one l-last chance to rub my n-nose in all th-that I c-can't have?"

With each sentence, her voice became choppier, and the tears ran faster down her cheeks until she was sobbing helplessly. Angel, rushing forward at the first sign of her tears, just held her cradled tenderly in his arms, saying nothing, until the storm of weeping passed. Finally, Buffy spoke, never lifting her face from his chest, "I can't do it anymore, Angel. I can't live without you. I know it makes me weak, but I just don't have the will anymore. I can't keep going, fooling myself with pipe dreams. I just can't be alone anymore, I..."

Angel placed his hand beneath her chin, gently cradling her face in his palm, and raised her gaze to meet his. The love she saw there took her breath away, and made her heart trip with fearful hope. Could his expression mean what she thought...?

"You don't have to be alone ever again" he said, "I'll be with you, always."

"But what about the reasons you left before, you said..."

"I think you know that wasn't my heart talking. I let myself be swayed by... by foolish arguments. But I'm here now, and if you'll have me, I'll never leave again. There's something else I think you should know..."

Buffy's eyes misted with tears, of happiness this time. She felt her heart swell with love for this man who, even now, refused to name her mother as the source of the "foolish arguments" that drove them apart. Her eyes grew round with wonder, and with joy, as Angel told her about his visit from the Light Keeper, and what she had revealed to him. Suddenly, another thought occurred to her.

"So, no curse?" she asked.

"No, no curse."

"And so, I'm guessing, no breaking the curse..."

"Never again, now that I understand what happened before."

"Well, it seems to me we should test that theory out, purely in the interest of science you understand." Buffy said, with a little giggle, as she pressed herself against him and laid her hands along side his cheeks.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, gladdened beyond words to see a trace of that old familiar sparkle replacing the look of bleak despair in her eyes.

"Why don't you come back to my room and find out?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EPILOGUE

They went back to Buffy's dorm room, the mansion having no bed since all of the furniture had been moved to L.A., and Buffy having no wish to face her mother again so soon. The campus was all but deserted, and no-one noted them entering the building. It was in the hushed, pre-dawn hours that Buffy's hope was restored, and Angel fulfilled his destiny to right the Balance, as it was foretold.

Tenderly undressing Buffy, Angel again marveled at her loveliness, a beauty so profound it touched his soul as none other ever had or ever would, a treasure of heart and mind so pure as to make the very angels weep. He smiled at that thought, for indeed an *Angel* had wept for her tonight.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked teasingly.

"The fact that all my dreams have come true, and I've finally found my home."

"Oh, " she breathed, "oh Angel..." as her eyes misted. "That's just the way I feel right now."

"Shhhh," he chided, "no more tears, not now, not ever again."

With those words, his lips met hers. Their kiss, at once tender and fierce, soon escalated to raw passion as lips entwined and hunger flared between them. Lifting her, he pressed her against him as she twined her limbs about him and they made their way to the bed. Laying her down, he followed, and soonthey were lost in the world of discovery known only to lovers long separated.

Afterwards, lying entwined, they gazed into each others eyes, savoring this gift they had been given. Soon, Buffy's eyes started to droop, but she fought sleep, struggling back from it's brink to savor the moment.

"Go to sleep, love, you're exhausted."

"I don't want to, I'm afraid..."

"Don't be afraid, I'll be here when you wake up."

And he was.

Send feedback to Alee

Back to the Fanfiction Archive