Timeline: A few months after the beginning of season 6 BtVS.
Spoilers: I suck at these...whole BtVS season 6? Definitely the Spuffy-yucky thing .

Summary: A broken slayer awakes from numbness and calls the only person who can save her.

Authors note: I know I should have focused more on Buffy’s numbness after returning but I was too depressed myself for it. Sorry. And I pretty much ignored what was happening at AtS season 3.

On a personal level: a big hug to Celtic Child for always being a sweet voice across the ocean-go check her B/A amazing site Trouble With Goodbye!; BA Fluff list members and everyone at the Ducks Babble/Fanfic Board as well as all the B/A fic writers for keeping the flame alive. And to B for making me smile so damn easily :D

You walk in the cemetery and months after coming back you still can't decide if this pace is comfortable - everything is black and white here. No grey areas to confuse you except for the stone grave marks

(Mom. Miss Calendar. Tara. Buffy.) or plain down creepy, which should be a simple decision considering you have spend most of your recent life here, walking among these graves. Some mean nothing you; others (Mommy) still twist your heart and bring a bubble of panic into her throat.

You feel him seconds before that tree branch cracks, making his presence known. Wherever you are, as soon as he walks into a room the air changes. You always thought it was your teenage naïve-ness giving you that impression but now (a lifetime later) it still feels the same and you haven’t had the luxury of being naïve for a long time so it must be real. It has something to do with his age, you muse. It must be. All powerful and dark he seems to cut the air on his walk.

(When he is around... it's like the lights dim everywhere else.)

But then you imagine for the zillionth time if he were human and can’t imagine less powerful and mysterious then he is now, walking towards you with his eyes locked on yours.

"I thought I’d find you here." he breaths out. Except he doesn’t need to breathe, you remind yourself, as you jump into his arms, whispering his name, and let yourself fall, because you know he’ll catch you. If anybody could keep you from falling it would be him or he would jump right after you. You don’t cry like you imagined you would. You do cling to him as if he were your life saviour. (Maybe he is) a voice whispers inside you (maybe he is). He smells the same way you remember, a part of you feared he wouldn’t, feared you had forgotten or he had changed. But he smells the same and that comforts you.

(Maybe there’s hope.)

Still after that first desperation dimmed you still remain in his strong arms. Everything is strong in him. And again you can only think *comfort*. He brings you comfort along with pain and tears, and a part of your soul you haven’t seen since you were brought back (There’s a place) and you feel better. Not whole, maybe you’ll never be whole again but he fulfils you; the emptiness is gone and instead of being half empty you can think you’re half full. Half way to the end...or the beginning.

Slowly you put your feet on the ground and feel his reluctance about letting you go so you stay in the circle of those strong arms, not that you want to be anywhere else. You don’t.

His eyes devour you - in a good way- taking note of every little change, cherishing that a lot *hasn’t* changed, his thumb caressing your cheek so softly, his gaze following its path and you feel loved. And now the damn tears do come but it’s okay ‘cause he wipes them away, crushing you into his arms again as if he could stop the pain with only the shelter of his body.

You want to tell him these are good tears, tears of happiness but then everything else comes and you can’t tell the good tears from the bad anymore. An angry wave of emotions curses through you and in the end you can’t tell if you kept your head above water the whole time.

He carries you to a bench nearby ad you sit in his lap; head rested against the crook of his arm, perfect place to smell him, and that only makes you more certain it was made just for you. Like everything else in this man it was created thinking of you. Of that you are certain.

Your body is not used to this kind of emotional rollercoaster and feels drained. Your eyelids feel heavy and your body relax against him. Falling asleep right here seems the best idea in the world. How many times did you wish you could fall asleep and wake up pressed against his chest?

(Safest place in the world)

"How about I take you home?" he whispers, or maybe he doesn’t but his voice is so soft ad low, making you shiver because Angel voice is the most beautiful sound in the world and you have years of unfulfilled desire when it comes to this man. (Not even dying changed that longing). His words penetrate the haze of fantasies going through your mind and make you think of home. You know what he means but still want to tell him you don’t know where home is - which is a lie because you are home but he’ll have to leave soon.

"My house is a big mess right now. Let’s go to the mansion instead." he looks at you strangely for a moment but gets up and gently places you in the floor and does that thing that always turned you into a puddle of mush -so sweet and loving and *Angel*- kisses the top of you head, breathing in your scent.

He takes you to his car and you smile- a genuine smile that doesn’t make your face hurt-because, well for one it’s black and really you could never imagine Angel in anything else.

It’s been awhile since you step foot in this place and for a moment you can see the fireplace burning and Angel sitting on that couch, reading a book. (It’s funny you never saw him reading a newspaper.) it’s not as dusty as you thought it would be, somehow this place managed to keep itself in shape. It’s still a little cold and he sees you rubbing your arms trying o bring yourself some warmth.

"Cold?"

He doesn’t wait for your answer and takes off his duster-needless to say your million fantasies rush into you and suddenly the room is too hot and you want to tell him he doesn’t need to do it except he already has his coat wrapped around you (Angel smell. So good, so good. So good.) He says he’s going to light up the fire and you go to the couch watching him build a nice pyramid with all the wood and aren’t surprised when he lights up a match and the fire starts slowly but surely.

You remember a time when you decided to surprise him, after all you had seen him do it so often and it seemed so easy but when you tried to do it the wood wouldn’t burn and instead of a pyramid, the whole thing looked a wrecked house of cards and you started coughing because the room was filling up with a black smoke and to end the circle of embarrassment he was there, looking at your dirty face with amused-not breathing issues at all.

"I never understood how you managed to do that."

He looks at you and smiles, clearly remembering that same scene. "What can I say? It’s an art."

He sits next to you, letting his arm rest on the back of the couch(perfect pillow) and looks at you.

"Thank you for..."you pause, unsure. "For being here, if only for tonight."

His hand caresses your hair, tracing mindlessly the curve of your jaw. "I’ll always come when you need me. What can I do to make it better?" Tell me. He looks at you with a desperation you haven’t seen in anyone’s face, desperate to make you feel better.

"I wish I knew. I feel *so* lost Angel." And there’s a reason for it, which you want to tell him. You want to tell him why this feels like hell, where you were but that will hurt him and you don’t wish to see that crushed look on his face anytime soon. You have years of unspoken feelings kept inside and you will tell him everything. Everything about the summer you weren’t Buffy, and about what really happened with Riley and what you thought as you were diving from that tower. you will tell him what it was like waking up in your own coffin, desperate for a breath of air and for suffocating at the same time, just so you could go back to Heaven, to peace and perfection.

"Can you stay just for, for a day or two?"

He seems to understand your difficulty in opening up ad doesn’t comment. "I already talked with Wesley and everyone else. I an stay for a couple of days and if nothing happens maybe another day." And then his you’re Angel again, so big and powerful and yet sweet and insecure. "If that’s ok with you, I mean." You laugh, warm and happy-that’s how he makes you feel, and hug him.

"It’s ok." you whisper." It’s so very ok. I’m *so* glad you’re here Angel. So happy."

"I know I haven’t been there for you." he says with a guarded expression "but I want to. I want to do whatever I can to make you happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you."

You bite your lip to keep yourself from kissing him, ‘cause tonight you want him as much as you did the night of your 17th birthday.

"I know." And this time it’s you hand touching his face, and his eyes closing for a second at the contact.

You slide next to him and take the blanket he got from his room, pulling it on top of both of you and again rest against him, feeling his arm readjusting the blanket on your shoulder and tightening his hold on you, resting his cheek on the crown of you head.

"Dawn will be thrilled to see you." you whisper, gazing at the yellow-orange, feeling warmth spread through your heart.

"How is Dawn?"

"Complicated." you reply with a sigh.

He asks you about everyone and tells you about the hotel you haven’t met (You and Dawn should visit. She will love the pool), a girl he saved from another dimension and a green demon that can read souls (Lorne, you have to meet)-(I will never sing).

His voice lulls you to sleep, hope and love burning in your heart, a peace you haven’t felt in months blanketing your soul and at that moment you really can’t imagine why you were so reluctant about calling him in the first place. Just before sleep takes you his voice stirs you. "No matter how lost you are...I'll find you. I'll always find you."

(If I was blind I would see you.)

A kiss in your forhead. (This is what feels like to be loved.)"You're here and that's all that matters. I'll keep you safe." A cool breath on your lips. A cold tear on your cheek.

"I’ll keep you."

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