Disclaimer: nope, not mine! So don't sue.
Rating: PG-13 (I suppose ...)
Pairing: B/A ... duuuuuh!
Spoilers: Season 5/ Season 2
Summary: there's still hope ... all you need is to believe
Timeline: six months after the end of season 5/ season 2
Feedback: oh yeah
Dedication: to all of you who don't lose hope

Prologue

It was like struggling to the surface. Like she had been drowned. The only difference was, it wasn't wet. Not at all. It wasn't hot either, nor was it cold. She had to admit it was comfortable. She felt protected as if she was in a shell, a very fluffy, cotton-like shell. She moaned at the pleasantness of all.

And there was this voice. For some days now she heard it. A voice talking to her, softly, gently. Healing. It was comforting her, was assuring her, was lulling her into sleep, into safety and although she was beyond coherent thoughts she instinctively knew that she hadn't felt like this for a long time.

The voice belonged to a hand. A hand that was touching her, stroking her arm, her face, the thumb massaging her palm. It was a familiar touch, a reassuring one, never demanding, only loving. Was it possible for anyone to be so unselfish she wondered? Could something like that exist?

She couldn't remember a lot. Just light, blinding light, and heat. Then cold. But it was all gone now. Who was she? Where was she? What had happened to her? Thoughts began to race in her mind while she was struggling further. Trying to escape the darkness, the numbness, that seemed to have sourrounded her for too long. Comforting as it might have been it was disturbing too.

It was as if she was cut loose from all that made her a person, a being. Was she even human, she wondered? Where did that thought come from?

There was the voice again and the hand touching her. This was her anchor, her lifeline and she held on to it, couldn't let go. She wanted to scream, wanted to talk, at least whisper, but her lips didn't obey. She wanted to look, but her lids were heavy, too heavy to move them. She couldn't even get her hand to sequeeze the one that was touching it.

Panic began to settle. What was going on? What was happening? Why wasn't she able to move, to talk, to see? Oh God, was she dead? No, an inner voice instantly shouted. If you were dead nobody would care and there is still this voice talking to you. So you aren't dead.

And suddenly she was so tired. Tired and exhausted from trying to surface into a reality she didn't know. She would try again tomorrow. There was enough time tomorrow. Listening to the voice she had come to love she let herself fall back into the comforting darkness.

 Part 1

4 months later

"He won't ever give her up," Willow's voice wore the slightest hint of a question although she already knew the answer. With a sigh she turned away from the window at Buffy's room.

"Of course he won't," Cordelia replied with idignation. How could anyone ever think he would ever give up? People who were thinking something like that were either dense or completely oblivious to the expression on Angel's face.

"Yeah," the red-head sighed again. "But ... well ... do you think it's healthy that he almost lives here? It's been almost a year after all."

"It's been exactly eight months," the former mayqueen sat down on a chair in the waiting area and pretended to inspect her fingernails. It was either this or jumping right into her former classmate's face. How could anyone be so dense??? "*She* is his life, Willow," she said after a moment. "You still don't get it? It was one thing to leave her and to know that she was living ... as happily as possible in her situation ... but now," she made a gesture with her hand and closed her eyes for a moment.

"But ... but..."

"No buts," Cordelia had about had it now. "What is this?" she stood and stared at the witch, "Do you mind him being here?"

"No," the red-head replied a bit too quickly. Then she sighed and amended, "Well, not really. But ... they were separated. Sure, they saw each other and all."

"Hey you were the one to tell Angel about Buffy being swallowed by a vortex. What do you think he'd be doing. Just say thanks for the information and go on with his life? Think again, witchy girl. You must have known that he instantly would jump into action and try to get her back. And he did," she finished pointing towards the window.

"Yeah," Willow admitted hesitantly.

And suddenly the former mayqueen understood, "You resent him for it," she exclaimed incredolously. "Oh God, Willow."

"No," the witch replied firmly, then shook her head and made a helpless gesture with her hands, "I really don't know anymore. But look at her, she's just a shell, lying in there, not reacting, nothing. That's not Buffy in there."

"And pray who do you think it is?" Cordelia's voice held a dangerous edge. Angel had almost sacrificed his life in following Buffy into the other dimension and getting her out again, she would not allow anyone to belittle his actions.

"I...," Willow didn't know what to say. "But she is like dead. Why did he have to bring her back? Like this? We had a grave and all, we were mourning her ..."

"Oh God," the ex-cheerleaders eyes were widened in shock, "You are disgusting. You were mourning her ... good God, Willow! Did you listen to yourself. Are you seriously trying to tell me he did it for selfish reasons. When ... pray tell ... did Angel ever do anything selfish when it came to Buffy, huh? Are you resenting him for the fact that he couldn't manage to bring her back in perfect condidion? That she isn't happy, demon-kicking Buffy at the moment? Newsflash, girl, she went to anyother dimension and from what I've heard about that Glory-chick it wasn't heaven. Did you expect her to escape unharmed after two months??? Think again!

"When Angel returned from hell ... taking all he told me," she continued, "he was far from being okay. And Buffy is human, the slayer, but still human. I'm sure it has affected her more than it would affect a vampire, soul or no soul."

"But look at her," Willow shouted, "just look at her. Do you think she'd wanted that? Being a living corpse? Just lying in a bed, feeling nothing, hearing nothing ... that's not a life."

"We don't know that," Cordelia sat down again, feeling suddenly tired. Maybe it was time for pitying Buffy for a while. This was Willow, the so called best friend of the slayer. "I talked to the doctor some days ago. He said we still don't know enough about comatic patients. Nobody knows exactly what they feel and how much. And as I said before, it has only been eight months. Maybe you should just give her some more time. She's still young, even if this ... phase ... is going on for a while, there is enough life to live afterwards, don't you think?"

****

"They're discussing you again," Angel told the girl in the bed before him, while he was holding her hand firmly in his, his sensitive vampire ears having picked up every detail of the conversation. "Willow's just angry with the situation. Don't take her serious," he told Buffy who was lying with her eyes closed. There hadn't been any movement, any reaction ever since he'd brought her back from the other dimension.

"But I won't give up on you. Never, I promise. You have all the time you need. I know what it means to be entrapped over there. Dawnie and Giles are with me in this, a hundred percent. And so is your father. We explained everything to him. He was shocked at first," he laughed a little bit thinking back at Hank Summers reaction when he'd found out his daughter was a vampire slayer and Angel ...

"You will have all the help you need. And I'll be there every minute," he promised glancing at the dark blinds at the windows. He had to silently thank Giles for this. In no uncertain terms he had informed the hospital staff that Buffy had a serious allergy to direct sunlight and that the blinds had to be closed under any circumstances. They were only opened one hour a day, during the sunrise. Angel had insisted on it, knowing how important sunlight was for a human being. It was the only hour he wasn't with her and it was the time that came closest to hell for him.

"But Willow loves you," he continued his speech, "she loves you a lot. She is just scared of all this. She is human. Cordelia," he laughed again, "she is a different matter. She's changed so much, has become so mature, well ... most of the time at least ... you would like her. You will, as soon as you wake up. And I'll be waiting for you," he vowed.

****

There it was again. The voice. The hand. The touch. She wanted to reach out and touch back. But still she felt like surrounded by a shell, a fluffy, cottony shell, she couldn't tear up. She instinctly knew that the voice was her anchor, her lifeline, but it was too vague, too far away to grab it and damn her arms that wouldn't move. Curse her lips that wouldn't form the words.

The voice had become clearer over the months. Now she sometimes was even able to understand some of the words it spoke, although she still didn't know to whom it belonged to. But it was her safe haven. And she knew that eventually she had to reach it. But not today. It was too early, she was too weak, too exhausted. The struggle was long and hard. And he'd be waiting. And somehow she knew it was the truth. With an inward sigh she slipped back into oblivion.

 Part 2

Staring at the moon and the stars was something Dawn found herself doing a lot lately. She wasn't quite sure if it was due to the fact that she wasn't really a person - or maybe she was these days, who could know that after Glory had disappeared from this dimension. Anyway, it was a fact that she hadn't really existed before some monks had decided to integrate immense power in the person of a girl, install her as the slayer's sister and that way make sure that she was protected all the time.

It was a fact, too, that even after finding out about her fake identity Buffy had contiued treating her like her real sister, as had Giles and her mother ... mommy ... tears welled up in her eyes thinking about what was left of her family. Her father ... sure ... but he was always busy and had left her in the care of Buffy's watcher and Buffy ... Angel had managed to bring her back but had it really been worth it?

She had been thrilled in the beginning when he'd appeared in the vortex carrying her sister in his arms. Unconscious, but alive they'd brought her to the hospital, full of hopes and smiling all of them only to get their hopes smashed right down to their feet. It wasn't that she was really doubting Angel's actions, no, not at all. She'd heard Willow talking to Tara about the situation of her sister and she had wanted to jump right into her face.

Still, it didn't change the fact that Buffy was lying in a hospital and hadn't reacted to anything in eight months and for a girl at Dawn's age eight months were like an eternity. She sighed loudly when she felt a presence behind her and without turning her head, her voice sounding annoyed, she said, "What do you want?"

"You shouldn't be out here on your own, runt," the british accented voice replied before Spike finally took a seat beside her on the bench. "Lots of bad people around."

"People?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

He ignored her comment and reached into the pocket of his duster for a cigarette. After finding it he put one between his lips and lit it. "You know, for all the times you've been looking at the stars lately you should know them all pretty well by now."

"You really are a pain in the ass, Spike," she replied, not looking at him. "Why are you here?"

"Looking out for you?" he suggested, blowing smoke into the air.

"And why would you do that?" she shot back.

"Why anyone does such things. I care for you."

"HA!," she tossed her head back and stood. "Care for me!," she echoed, slightly narrowing her eyes. "You are a vampire. Without a soul, if I may add."

"And that says what exactly?" he had narrowed his eyes as well, "That I don't have a heart? That I don't feel? Well, just so you know. I feel, I can even love."

"Oh, I know that," she replied casting him an angry glance.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, don't play dumb. I might be young, but even I could see you were ... well, if not in love than heavy infatuated ... with my sister. And all the time, all the months I actually believed you would care for me."

Spike looked at the girl stunned, "Are you jealous?" he asked incredulously.

"Jealous!," she echoed and couldn't suppress a laugh. "God, get over yourself. No, I wasn't jealous, I *am* not jealous. I just happen to feel betrayed. As I said, I thought you cared for me, liked me, were spending time with me because you wanted it. As a friend, to make that clear. Only to find out that you did it for *her*. That you were trying to get into her pants by playing nice with the little sister."

"Now, listen...," he stood as well and angrily tossed the cigarette to the ground.

But she wouldn't let him, "And while we're at it. What sort of pathetic existence does that make you. Drooling over a girl who never got over the only man she loved, you're even more pathetic than Riley ever was. He at least managed to jump into the sack with her," she all but shouted the last sentence, then turned away and stormed towards her house.

Spike needed only a second to catch up with her. Grabbing her arm he roughly turned her around, "Oh, no, you're not throwing that at me and then going to run away like this," he growled. "You will listen to me now." She tried to free herself but he didn't loosen his grip. "Stop struggling. You will listen and then I will let you go."

"Alright," she finally gave in, but the hostility didn't leave her gaze. "Tell and get over with it."

"You are right, I was ... infatuated, as you call it ... with your sister. But believe me, I of all people knew all the time that she was never over my damned grand-sire, there's something about him ... well, let's not go there, just know that Buffy isn't the first woman that never managed to get him out of her mind. For some time I made myself believe that it was only her desire for the dangerous, a slayer-thing, you know, but of course a guy can fool himself only that long." When he saw her listening he removed his hand from her arm and searched his pockets for another cigarette. Confessions were always much better with something to suck at.

For a short moment he paused, thinking if he maybe used the cigarettes as a substitute for something vampires usually sucked dry - something he no longer could - then quickly dismissed the thought, he'd enjoyed smoking long before these bloody commandos had planted that chip in his head. "And yes, maybe I was around you for her sake ... at the beginning. But after some time I couldn't prevent liking you for yourself."

"Oh really?" she frowned not really believing him. She'd spent a lot of time reading Giles' books during the last months. Ever since the watcher had moved into her house and brought all these old, musty books with him, she hadn't been able to resist. As a result she knew a lot more about vampires now, most important of all that they were first and before all, evil. When they didn't have a soul, that was. It was only then when she had really understood how special Angel was.

"Yes, really," he shot back, getting annyoed with her attitude. "To say it clear. I am your friend, Dawn. And I came here to keep an eye on you, to make sure none of the undead population of Sunnydale would use you as a midnight snack. You are the slayer's sister, they could brag with that kill for ages."

"Uh-huh," she rolled her eyes, "because I'm so famous."

"You are," he informed her quietly, tossing the cigratte away. "Ever since Glory pulled her crap, you are almost as famous as Buffy. Don't underestimate vampire-grapevines."

"So you are telling me, you do care for me ... in a strictly friendly sort of way of course, right? And why should I believe you?"

"Because it's the truth," he shouted stomping his foot to the ground. The little runt was as stubborn as her darned sister, who was refusing to wake up for eight long months.

She couldn't help it, but a grin spread over her face at his desperation, "Alright, alright. I believe you."

"You do?" he was stunned again.

"Uh-huh," her grin grew even wider. "Still I think you are not completely over your ... your infatiuation with Buffy."

He gave her a sheepish smile then nodded towards the house, "Anyway. Infatuation or not, you need to go to bed, it's late and you've got school tomorrow and besides, the great poof would have my head if I would only so much as think about getting near her in any way than a friend."

"Yeah," she sighed and began to walk. "Angel really does love her."

"That he does, runt, that he does."

****

It was a strange sensation to talk to her after such a long time, even if it was only in a dream. But after more than eight months of silence he was almost able to be content to have at least that. It had happened during the night, when Angel had fallen asleep, his head lying on Buffy's stomach, their hands itimately entwinded. And it had shaken him to the core.

He was now sitting in the waiting area, while the sun rose and the blinds had been removed from the windows to give the daylight access to the room. Angel wondered if it was just selfish to insist to stay with her all the day - except that short hour in the morning - that he would keep the sunlight away from her, something he'd left her for.

But Giles assured him that he was sure Buffy needed the vampire by her side, that if anyone would be able to reach her wherever she was, it'd be him. And besides she had her constant bodygard. The hospital wasn't a private home, and, as Angel knew first hand from a time where his evil self had followed the slayer, for that open to any vampire or demon who wanted to make theirselves immortal by killing a slayer, unconscious or not.

The dream he'd shared with Buffy the last night had been strangely comforting and Angel found himself already looking forward to the next time. He ran a weary hand through his hair and sighed. He really shouldn't do that. He should try to get her to wake up, but as this didn't seem to be an option at the moment he'd take what he got. And who knew, maybe it was her first step to come back to them. And that she would do it in the end, Angel had no doubt at that.

They had met on a green meadow in brigh sunshine, the flowers blooming, bees and flies in the air, the birds singing and they'd been laughing. It had been almost as good as the day only Angel remembered, the day that was so far away it seemed like a fantasy sometimes, a wonderful, but unreal fantasy a lonely mind had made up to survive. Only that Angel could remember having been there, eating ice-cream in bed, making love on a kitchen table ... Buffy had been laughing in the dream. Her face had been radiant and her eyes sparkling with happiness and joy of life. She'd been calling his name and he'd taken her in his arms and vowed to never let her go. She'd been telling him that she missed him every minute and that she knew he'd always be there for her and he'd told her he'd never stopped loving her. And then the morning nurse had disturbed their happiness with her rather masculine voice.

Angel sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, opening his eyes when he heard footsteps and then saw Giles entering the room. "Good morning," the watcher greeted him with a smile. "How was your night."

"As strange as it may sound, not bad."

"Really?" Giles eyebrows rose and he looked at the vampire expectantly.

"I had a dream last night," Angel explained and gave the watcher a grateful nod when he handed him a cup of fresh pig's blood. As the vampire was staying at the hospital all the time Giles had taken up the task to get him fed properly every day.

"A dream?"

"Yeah," Angel replied after sipping from his cup. "Buffy was in it. It was ... rather interesting. You remember the dreams we shared when the first evil was after me?" he asked and when he saw the watcher nod, he continued. "It was almost like that."

"You mean that Buffy might try to get in contact with you?" Giles barely managed to hide his excitement. After eight months of ... well, nothing, this were the first good news. Maybe is was nothing, he tried to calm himself, but maybe ...

"I cannot say for sure, but ... it felt like it," the vampire replied, handing the empty mug back to the watcher. "Thanks."

Giles made a dismissive gesture, bringing Angel food was the least he could do and he didn't expect the vampire to thank him for it. "This is good news."

"Maybe," Angel replied hesitantly. "As I said, I don't really know. I don't want the others to know, especially Dawn. I don't ..."

"Yes, yes, of course," Giles nodded, "I understand. But it's promising, don't you think?"

The vampire looked at the watcher for a long time, "Yeah, it is," he finally agreed. "Thanks again for the blood, I need to get back to her," he said with a nod at the clock at the wall. "I don't want her to be alone for too long."

"Do you get enough sleep? You are with her the whole day round and ...," Giles asked before Angel left the room.

The vampire couldn't help but grin at the watcher, "Yes, Giles. I sleep ... every now and then ... and yes, I feel fine. But thanks for asking."

With this he disappeared down the hallway leaving the watcher alone with his thoughts and a faint shimmer of hope.

Part 3

"It just doesn't feel right," Xander said for the tenth time that night while he, Anya, Willow and Tara were sitting around a table at the espresso pump.

"Xander...," the witch gently put a hand on his.

"No," he pulled the hand back and shook his head. "Planning a wedding while one of our friends is in a coma ... there's just something wrong with the picture. Weddings are ... fun, and laughter, and ... but I don't feel like that. Not at all."

"N-none of u-us does, Xander," Tara gave him a sad smile. "I k-know that I didn't know her as well as you did ..."

"Don't talk like this," he almost shouted, then instantly sent her an apologetic look, "don't talk of her in the past tense. She is alive."

"Barely," Anya muttered under her breath, but her fiancée had heard her nevertheless and shot her an angry glare, moving his chair away from her. He wasn't in a good mood tonight. He'd spent an hour with Buffy ... and Angel of course, who never seemed to leave her side ... in the hospital and it were these hours when it always hit him.

While he was away from her he could lie to himself, try to imagine she was just on a vacation or ... anywhere but in a hosptial bed looking like a fragile porcelain doll and not like the powerful, vibrant girl he'd come to love the way he loved Willlow over the years. It was these times when he wanted to scream or beat something and it was Angel's understanding eyes that had prevented it so far.

He'd come to know the vampire the last eight months. Really to know him. Xander had to admit that he'd never really known him before. First there was his hatred against vampires and his teenage crush on Buffy that prevented him to see anything in Angel but a rival for her affection. And after the vampire had reverted into his evil self and Xander's nightmare had come true he hadn't really bothered to get to know him anymore.

But now things were different. Granted, Angel would live forever and for this time was a different matter for him than for a mere mortal, but Xander couldn't help but admire the never wavering care the vampire showed for the woman he loved and that Angel loved Buffy, the vampire had proven without any doubt over the last months. He never left her side, he held her hand, he read for her, stroked her hair, bathed her, held her. When you went to see Buffy you went to see Angel.

And Xander was sure that Angel was the only one who still believed, truly believed, that she would come back to them. He would never forget the day when the vampire arrived in Sunnydale. A week after Buffy's presumed death. Xander had never seen more determination in a man's face before. He'd spoken to Giles and simply told him he'd get her back. When Xander had asked him, how he could be so sure, he'd said, "They owe me."

Xander hadn't asked who "They" were, but the look in Angel's eyes had told him all he needed to know. He was sure Buffy would be back and then she was. Only it wasn't really Buffy. Or it was, but ... in a coma. Not talking, not laughing, not joking ... nothing of the things that had defined her, made her so special, made her Buffy.

And now he was sitting here with his friends, planning his wedding with Anya and felt ... empty. It just wasn't right. Buffy wasn't allowed to laugh so why should he? Why should he feel happiness and enjoy his life, while she'd gone to a darker, lonelier place where nobody seemed to be able to reach her, although he wasn't so sure about Angel. There had been a glimpse in the vampire's eyes today ... him and Buffy always had been connected through a special bond and although Xander had liked Riley he had to finally admit that the commando had never gained the same place in the slayer's heart.

If he was brutally open to himself he knew that he had liked Riley, not only because he was human, but first and before all because his relationship with Buffy was something normal. Angel and Buffy ... that was something Xander had never been able to understand, something out of the ordinary, something ... higher ... scarier ... at least for him. But today he was grateful, because it was the only shimmer of hope they all had, that Angel ... maybe on some special level ... would be able to connect with her and bring her back. Back to them all.

He blinked when he saw a hand moving in front of his face and when his eyes focussed he saw it was Anya's. "What?" he looked at the three girls.

"Where have you been?" the former demon asked a little annyoed. "Okay, I understand that you don't feel like the happy, giddy Xander, but you don't need to tune us out so obiously."

"Sorry, honey," he apologised and kissed her on the cheek. "I was at the hospital today and it's ... hard."

"Yes," Willow sighed and was grateful when Tara took her hand, "I went there the day before yesterday. Cordelia was there too," she chuckled slighty remembering her conversation with the former mayqueen. "She was defending Angel like his sister."

"They are quite a group, the L.A.-team. I like Gunn," Xander replied with a smile. "Who would've thought that Queen C would end up with a former street kid."

"I'm not sure if they're together officially," the red-head tilted her head, "but they're close alright."

"Oh, but you can see the sparks flying," Anya gestured with her hand to emphasise her point. "I wonder how they manage without Angel over there."

"Angel said, Faith is released on probation and works with Angel Investigations," Willow told them. "I met her at the hospital a week ago. She sure has changed and I think it's Angel we have to thank for this. I wonder what would've happened if Wesley never had interfered when he tried to help her in the first place."

"Yeah," Xander nodded thoughtfully, "He kinda grows on you, doesn't he." When he saw the girls rise their eyebrows he threw up his hands, "Hey, can't a guy change his mind?"

*****

"Angel?" her voice came in a whisper and it seemed as if a curtain was torn from his eyes and suddenly he found himself standing in bright sunlight. She was only some feet away and blinking.

"Buffy," he smiled at her. "Where are we?" he asked.

"This is our world," she replied and smiled as well. "Isn't it beautiful? We're just two normal people here. A girl and a boy or," she giggled, "a woman and a man. It really doesn't fit to call you a boy."

"I don't mind," he said and held out his hand for her. She took it instantly and he pulled her closer, breathing in her familiar scent that was so uniquely Buffy.

"I bet," she grinned and looked up into his eyes. "It's wonderful up here. So bright and green. So peaceful," she sighed and snuggled into his arms. "I want to stay forever."

"Forever? That's awfully long, Buffy. Don't you want to be with your friends again?"

"No!," her eyes suddenly looked alarmed. "You didn't come to take me back, did you? Because I'm not going."

"Don't you miss them?"

She frowned for a moment, "I do," she finally admitted on a sigh. "But I missed you more. I missed you terribly and here we can finally be together. So, yeah, I miss them, but I won't trade them for you."

"Oh Buffy," he pulled her to him. "I miss you too. But this isn't real, my love. Don't you see?"

She pulled back from him, "Don't say that," she almost shouted. "We're here, aren't we. You and I. Together. There's no evil, no happiness-clause to tear us apart. Just two human beings in love. Angel, I can't go on like this. Fighting and fighting and then fighting some more. I'm so tired."

"What about Riley?" he asked the dreaded question. The boy who left her, the boy she'd once said she loved.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. "He was a mistake," she replied quickly. "Not the way you think. He was a nice, almost normal guy. But I just used him, to fill a hole in my heart. I used him and he loved me and so I hurt him. Not intentionally but I still did. That was wrong and I won't do it again. Angel," her pleading eyes looked up to me, "Please don't make me go. I want to be with you, I *need* to be with you." She suddenly looked around, "I have to go now, Angel. Meet me again tomorrow. Please come!"

"Buffy!," he called out to her while she was slowly backing away.

"I can't stay. Or you'll make me go with you and I can't do that," she told him. "I'll see you tomorrow, my love."

Angel's head shot up from its resting place on Buffy's belly and he wildly looked around in the darkened room. One glance at the clock told him it was almost midnight. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and tried to collect his thoughts.

This dream had been so vivid, so real ... was it really her ... spirit or whatever he'd met in his dream or was it just his phantasy that longed to be with her? Was this maybe a way to communicate with her, and finally to convince her to ... come back?

Angel was excited for a moment ... and scared to death at the same time. What if she refused to come back, what if she wanted to stay where she was ... forever. The way she'd insisted in his dream?

No, he couldn't allow her to do that, he had to convince her to come back. Not just for himself or her friends or her sister, no, but for her. She had to find her will to live again. She had to understand that life had so much to offer for her, that she just couldn't give up like that.

He sighed deeply while he rubbed his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. The problem was he had not the slightest idea how he was going to do that. 

 Part 4

Willow tiptoed through the hallway of the hospital. It was early, very early in fact, the sun was just about to rise. It was her day to provide Angel with his daily blood-supply. She'd insisted on doing it and giving Giles a day off that way. He had slightly glared at her, when she'd told him he wasn't the youngest anymore and needed a break, but had given in nevertheless.

Holding the bag with the blood firmly in her hand she made her way around the corner to the waiting-area where she knew she'd find the vampire at that time of the day, when she suddenly heard two familiar voices, one of them wasn't even meant to be there today.

"... only if you keep it to yourself. You have to promise, Giles," she heard Angel say and the warning in his voice was unmistakeable. "I don't want anyone to get their hopes high. Especially Dawn. I'm not sure she would be able to cope with such a disappointment."

"Would you?" the watcher asked, looking at the vampire pointedly.

"This isn't about me," Angel reminded him. "This is about Buffy, helping Buffy. I stopped seeing myself as someone important a long time ago."

"I know," Giles sighed. "And I know how much you love her, but even your strength has its limits."

The vampire simply shrugged and decided to ignore the comment. He was tired, he admitted to himself, exhausted, desperate sometimes, but he had vowed not give up on her and he certainly wouldn't do it now when there was a light shining in the darkness. "I'll manage," he just said and looked to the clock again. The hour he spent separated from Buffy always seemed like an eternity.

"Alright," Giles sighed again. "You're certainly old enough to decide for yourself, but now. Please tell me about the dream."

"It was vivid ... almost real," Angel began, resting his ellbows on his knees, his hands dangling between them, "I saw her, Giles. We talked and she told me she ... she wouldn't come back. When I brought up the subject she almost panicked."

"I see," the watcher replied thoughtfully, removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. "Anything else?"

"She ...," the vampire paused, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, before continuing, "she said it was our world there. Where ... we could be together. She said she missed me and that she didn't want to come back because ... well," he trailed off not seeing any sense in putting it into words.

But Giles wasn't satisfied. "She refused to come back because she couldn't be with you here?" he asked, his voice full interest. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"What about her friends, her sister?"

"I ... uh ..."

"Well?" the watcher looked at him expectantly.

"I asked her," the vampire finally admitted. "She said she missed them, missed you, but ... that she wouldn't be able to go on witout me. She said she was tired and that there was no sense in the endless fight."

After a moment Giles nodded and put his glasses back on. "Yes," he said after another moment of silence. "I always feared it would come to that. We all tried to believe she was fine. There was Riley after all and the two seemed to get along, but ..., " he sighed deeply, "we should've seen the signs. *I* should've seen them," he amended. "I am her watcher and I failed her. She was too bright, too happy, too...," he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "She could still pretend, but when Joyce died." He looked up and the eyes of the two men met. "I thought she might do something stupid. But then you came. Did I ever tell you how grateful I was that you came that night?"

"There's no need. I would've stayed, but ..."

"Yeah," Giles nodded again. "She told me. She sent you away ... God, these stupid gypsies and their bloody curse."

Angel's eyes widened in surprise, "Excuse me?"

"Don't tell me you agree with that nonsense. Cursing you for punishment is one thing, but building a happiness clause into this ia something completely different." The watcher shot the vampire another glance, then stood and began to pace the room. "How could they risk to let Angelus roam free again!," he all but shouted. "I know I blamed you for killing Jenny, but the only ones to blame is her own tribe. Vengance, what an ancient, cruel ritual!"

"I ...," Angel tried to find an answer but failed.

"I know," Giles stopped and turned to face the vampire again, "you think you earned anything that's thrown your way." When he saw Angel opening his mouth in protest, he held up a hand, "Don't deny it. Wesley an I had a lot of time to discuss a lot of things during the past eight months and one of the subjects was you. I know a lot more about you than you think. Including your ... epiphany."

"I...," the vampire tried again, but again no words would come.

"Why didn't you call?" Giles asked. "Why didn't you try to contact Buffy. She would've helped?"

"It would've been too painful," Angel said after a moment. "I couldn't do that to her. When we're around each other ...," he trailed off and sadly shook his head.

"Because of the clause!," the watcher said almost triumphantly. "There we go again. It all comes back to this. You didn't call her, she sent you away, because you both were afraid that you'd lose control and Angelus might make another appearance. What a mess! And now she refuses to come back because of it, because the clause..."

"It's not just the clause, Giles," Angel interrupted him. "I didn't leave her just because of that." The vampire's voice was tired and defeat was audible in it.

"I know that," the watcher replied. "And when you decided to leave I was actually glad. I thought you'd made the right decision. But I ... we all ... underestimated the impact you had in her life. And deep inside we were also a bit jealous because you had something special. No, don't deny it. Because I was. Jealous, I mean. I thought, what on earth can he give her, I can't. I'm her watcher, a father figure and Angel is something special, pah!

"And of course I was glad that the danger of Angelus was banned when you left ... back at the happiness clause again ... but anyway. We all forgot how strong you both were together. Apart ... well," he gestured with one hand, "we saw what happened. You almost lost your senses with Darla and Buffy ... she fell, deep. Spike once told her she was flirting with death and I tried to deny it, but she did and you know what," he paused dramatically, then continued, "it began when her purpose, her light left. You. When you left, Buffy did too. Not physically, and not so obviously, but Buffy - the person - retreated and Buffy - the slayer - had the upper hand.

"I think," he shook his head, "no, I know. Neither Darla, nor this," he pointed to Buffy's room, "would've happened the way it did if you two had been together."

****

"Californian air," Riley Finn was breathing deeply, strechted his arms above his head and yawned. His body still ached from the flight from south Brazil to the States and after that he'd spent two days being interrogated by his superiors in the new Initiative headquarters in L.A. He was a soldier, trained for fighting not for sitting around and answering stupid questions.

Graham chuckled beside him, "Who would've thought," he shook his head. "That we'd be actually glad to be back."

"Uh-huh," his friend grinned. "Who would indeed. And in Sunnydale of all places."

"Will you go and see her?" Graham asked after a moment.

Riley looked at his friend for a long moment, "I honestly don't know. I suppose we'll meet. Our parting wasn't the very best and I have not the slightest idea how tense it might become. I haven't heard a word from her ever since we left."

"Well you weren't Mr-I-wrote-a-lot either."

"True," the blonde commando sighed, "but then ... as I said ... we didn't part on best terms. There was a lot ... well, a lot ... I did some really stupid things and she," he shrugged, "let's just say, I was an idiot."

Graham chuckled and put a hand on his friend's back, "Really nothing new, Riley. Not really."

****

"Shoot me," Faith slammed the door of the Hyperion Hotel shut, stepped towards the huge leather sofa Angel had bought for the lobby and let her body fall into it.

"Oh, oh, slayer not happy," Gunn joked coming from the vampire's office holding some files in his hand.

"Shut  up," the brunette slayer snapped, rubbing her eyes. "You won't believe what happened on patrol."

"And you might tell us what happened at some point?"

Faith looked up and saw Wesley standing in front of her, one eyebrow raised, his arms crossed in front of his chest and gazing at her expectantly. "You remember those commando guys that were running around in Sunnydale?" she asked.

"Commando guys?" Cordelia joined the little group in the lobby. "You mean the initiative guys as in Buffy's ex-boyfriend was one of them?"

"Uh-huh," the slayer nodded. "The very same. I met some of them today, well actually I *saw* them ... from a distance. They were after a little, slimy demon and they captured it after a while. Not very professional by the way."

"Not really liking the news," the former cheerleader replied, then frowned, had she actually sounded a bit like Xander? With an inward shudder, she pushed  the thought aside. "We should call Giles or even better one of us drives down to Sunnydale."

"Why on earth should we do that?" Gunn asked, feeling a bit lost in the conversation.

"Because Riley and Angel aren't on the best of terms," Cordelia gave him a look as if he was dense. But of course he had no way of knowing all the little details of the relationship between Buffy's former boyfriends.

"Cordelia," Wesley put a hand on her arm, "we don't know if Riley's even here."

"Still ... they hunt vampires, right? And Angel is a vampire and I have the uneasy feeling they won't make a difference if he has a soul or not. And there's also Spike to consider, he's all but taken over Buffy's slaying duties... and I really can't believe I actually was worried about Spike," she shook her head, sighed and took a place beside Faith.

"She is right," the slayer looked at the two men. "We need to inform the Sunnydale-crew. Although Angel doesn't really leave the hospital, he still needs to know. What if Riley just shows up there. Not the best scenario."

"Yes, yes," Wesley agreed. "Cordelia, you could go. Visit your parents and your friends."

"Alright," she nodded and stood again. "Maybe I'm staying for a while this time. Not really so much fun to drive down there every week. I'm going to call if there's a vision. Have fun, boys and be good, girl," she wiggled a finger at Faith who just rolled her eyes. 

 Part 5

"Where are we?", Angel asked looking around at the sandy beach and the ocean, the water glittering in the bright sunlight.

"That's another of my dreamscapes," Buffy replied and tossed her hair back. "Something I always dreamt of. You and I at the beach. We met there before, do you know that?"

"We did?" he asked bewildered. "I can't remember."

A sad expression entered her eyes and she cast them down, "I was while I went to L.A. - when you ... when I ...," her voice faded and she swallowed hard.

"Oh," he just said and nodded. Hell still wasn't any of Angel's favourite subjects.

"You held me in your arms and said you'd never leve me," she told him looking back up. "I constantly dreamt of you then. And there was always this accusation in your eyes ... because ...," her voice broke again and he reached out to take her hand.

"I never blamed you for doing that," he said. "You know that, don't you?"

She frowned but averted her eyes. He reached out, cupped her chin and gazed deeply into her hazel orbs. "Buffy, sacrificing me for the world. You have no idea how proud I was of you. You were so strong, I once told you, you are a real warrior."

"Yeah," her reply was dripping of sarcasm. "The profession of your dreams."

"Buffy," he pulled her closer. "I know that life hasn't tossed you the easy version ... if I could I'd make all the evil and bad things in your life go away but I can't. Do you remember that I told you I saw you when you were called?"

"Yeah," she nodded and looked up at him. "Why are you telling me that now?"

"I fell in love with you then, but I knew you weren't meant for me. You were human, the slayer, the epitome of good in this world and I ...," he trailed off and shrugged, "Anyway. When I showed myself in that dark alley I knew it was a risk. I hadn't really communicated with people for about 100 years. I tried, but failed ...

"But you seemed ... in need of a friend," he smiled slightly remembering their first meeting. "So I tried to be just that. A friend. Someone who would appear out of nowhere, help you, then disappear again. But your eyes were pulling me to you, I just couldn't get away. You knew what I was and yet were able to see the man in me ... not the monster ... I couldn't stay away and this weakness caused you so much pain ..."

"No," came her sharp reply. "I would never trade that. I would never wish this hadn't happened at all. I never felt that way before or ... after ... and I'm glad I did. There might have been times when ... I was bitter, but deep inside I was always grateful for this ... us." She smiled and he could see the thruth shining from her eyes.

He gently stroked her cheek with his fingers, "When I left Sunnydale I kept to myself for a while, but then Doyle came ...," he trailed off again, thinking about his dead friend. "And I had other friends, Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn, but ... I missed you. Always. But it was bearable. You were there, out somewhere." He laughed slightly, "Don't understand me wrong, I hated the idea of you and Riley ...," he grinned, when he saw her raising a brow. "Okay, so I hated him."

"You beat him up," she said, but smiled. "I know he attacked you. He was jealous ... it finally drove him away, you know."

"You mean that I...," he asked incredolously.

"No," she shook her head. "Not you-you, but the fact that I couldn't love him the way I loved you. I suppose you already know he paid vampires for sucking him."

"Yeah," he nodded, "Spike just loves these kind of stories."

"I bet." She took a deep breath, then looked around. "Isn't it great up here. You and I ... together in the sunlight."

"Buffy...," Angel began but was immediately cut off.

"No, I'm not leaving. I can't. How can I go? Knowing that it means to go back where I came from. I know there are people who love me, but I'm so empty, Angel, so tired. It's so lonely to always be strong."

"But I need you to live, Buffy," he pleaded.

"No, you don't," she said sadly. "You were doing well on your own. When you came you were so strong, so confident ... nothing can ever bring you down ... you even survived hell. I couldn't have done it."

"Oh, Buffy," he sighed, "you have no idea. Strong? Me? I'm not strong."

"And anyway," she changed the subject, ignoring the pain in his voice, not able to deal with it at the moment. "If I came back, that wouldn't mean we'd be together. I would just mean I have to go back to my lonely life where nobody really understands me and you'll go back to L.A. This way, I keep you for myself for a while."

"Buffy," he began, but was cut off again.

"No, I'm tired, Angel. I have to go. Maybe we talk again tomorrow. But don't try again to get me back or we won't talk anymore."

"Buffy, please ..."

"No," she backed away, holding up a hand in defense. "Tomorrow."

Slowly Angel raised his head and rubbed his pounding temples. She was building up walls. Backing away at the slightest mention of going back.

Turning his head he looked down at ther sleeping form. She way lying there as if nothing had happened. She seemed so peaceful and happy in her sleep, undisturbed and without worries. All she had wanted was a normal life, he had listened to her again and again talking about it. But she'd gotten to be the slayer instead.

Giles had told him she had finally accepted her calling, had stopped complaining about nightly patrols, broken dates because of unscheduled slayage. What had he told him, the person Buffy had retreated and the slayer had gained the upper hand. And Spike had told him she'd been flirting with death, with her final destiny.

Had it been a flirt to end her loneliness? She'd told him she'd loved Riley ... it seemed like ages ago and he'd known it was a lie, had seen it in the depths of her hazel orbs. He knew her so well, could read her like a book. She'd been hurt by his behaviour, because he'd shouted at her and so she'd built her defenses and hurt him the only way she knew.

Was Giles right? Was it really just his curse, the happiness clause that was keeping them apart? He thought back at the time he'd decided to leave Sunnydale and Buffy. There had been many reasons, his curse only one amongst other. And yet ... the danger ... the fear of unleashing Angelus had overshadowed everything. The thought of hurting her again, of his demon killing agian ... he'd told Cordelia to kill him if it should ever happen again ... he couldn't do it anymore.

It had been a death wish, a wish to end all of this, all this loneliness, he'd been so tired, so exhausted, so frustrated. He'd tried to find comfort in his sire, tried to lose his soul and eventually kill himself. It hadn't happened - of course. With Buffy it had been bliss, finding the ultimate home for his soul, with Darla ...

Was it right then? Was Giles right when he'd said it wouldn't have happened if he and Buffy were still together? The Mohra demon had said together they were strong. Maybe it had been more than just physical strength. True, they both had their friends, their "familiy". But none of them could understand, truly understand, what it meant to be a warrior. To battle evil, but never to see an end of it. To slay one dragon only to meet the next around the corner.

Buffy had finally found the end of the rope and he'd been there too, just he'd been lucky and found his way back in time. No such luck for the slayer. But she was still alive, she was still in there, locked up in her dreams and wishes and she'd made it clear. She couldn't do it on her own anymore. She couldn't go on like this.

She might be the strongest slayer in history but even Buffy had her limits. Without a light in her darkness, there was no reason to go on.

Angel shot from his chair like a rocket, when it suddenly hit him and he began to pace the room, running his hands through his hair. He had left her so she could have what she so desperately wished for. A normal life. But both of them had ignored that it wasn't possible. He'd left her for the sunlight and had taken the most important light from both their lives.

Love.

The love they shared was something special. He'd known it from the start, fought it and lost.

A purpose.

That was what both of them missed in their lives, what draw them to each other again and again, what prevented them from letting go. They needed each other. Together they were strong.

Angel stopped and stared at the sleeping figure on the bed. He had to make her see. He had to make her understand that he'd understood. That they'd made a mistake, but that he'd understood and wouldn't do it again.  They were destined for each other. They *needed* each other, in so many more ways than sex.

He had to make her see and for that she had to know everything. He had to tell her ... there were so many things she didn't know. But he needed help. With two steps he was at the phone beside her bed and dialed the familiar number. When he heard a voice at the other end of the line he sighed in relief. He was so agitated he couldn't wait any longer.

"Giles. Good, you're there. Listen, Giles, I need a favour..."

 Part 6 "It's like looking for a needle in a haystack," Tara closed the book she'd been reading and rubbed her tired, red-rimmed eyes.

"I expected that much," Willow replied refilling her glass with coke. She needed some more caffeine and she couldn't see anymore coffee.

"Maybe," the blond witch furrowed her brow, "we should ask Giles," she suggested. "Or Wesley. I mean, they are watchers and know ... a lot of things."

"True," the red-head sipped from her coke and looked thoughtfully at her lover, "but I doubt they're experts for that special problem. And anyway, we've barely begun," she paused for a moment looking at the pile of books in the corner.  "Although I have a feeling we won't find anything in them." She sighed and closed the one lying in her lap. "Witchcraft and spells are one thing, but this..."

Tara uncrossed her legs and pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them, "We'd need someone... a person ... who is familiar with this kind of magic. Or has seen something similar done."

"Yeah," Willow agreed with a nod. **But who?**

The young women suddenly looked at each other, a thought entering both their minds at the same time and they exclaimed almost unison, "Anya."

****

Cordelia took a deep breath and then knocked gently on the door of Buffy's room. She was tired and she didn't like hospitals. What made this even worse was, this room was even more depressing than the ones she'd visited before.

Granted, it was undeniably sweet to see Angel taking care of the woman he loved, seeing him holding her hand, talking to her, but at the same time it was a little more than slightly depressing. The slayer hadn't responded to anything for eight months now and the former May Queen was rapidly losing hope that the blonde would ever regain her conscious.

She would've never admitted it to Willow, of course but it was the very thing Cordelia was afraid of. Sure, Angel was a vampire and time didn't matter as much to him as it did to a human, but he was also a man deeply in love with a woman.  Given time he would realize that the slayer wasn't coming back.

That was the moment Cordelia feared the most. What would happen to Angel the moment he realized his love was gone? Would he greet the morning sun and end his existence; Shanshu be damned? The former cheerleader knew he had a hard time in L.A. being far from Buffy, but somehow with the help of his family he'd managed to get a grip on his life again.  He found a purpose, and hadn't his "family" helped him to return to his life after the episode with Darla, rebuilt trust and friendship and made him believe again?

It was no secret that Cordelia had never been a fan of Buffy's, but of course that was due to her bitchiness in high school, not having anything to do with Buffy as a person.  Now, though, a completely new and unexpected emotion made her look at the slayer with concern. She cared for Angel, she even loved the dark-haired vampire like a brother. Like every good sister she looked out for him and wanted him to be, if not happy then, at least content. Although she knew that Buffy didn't have a choice in what happened to her, a tiny part of Cordelia held her responsible for what would happen to her "big brother".

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, the former May Queen was about to open the door only to come face to face with Buffy's watcher. "Giles?" she asked in surprise and peeked inside expecting to find her friend beside the slayer's bed. But no Angel was in sight. She frowned, "What happened?"

"What?" Giles looked at her in confusion.

"Angel isn't inside. Has something happened?"  She couldn't help the little impatience in her voice, she was concerned and she didn't mind showing it.

"No," the watcher replied in sudden understanding. "No, nothing. He just had something he needed to do, so her asked me to stay with her."

"Oh," she made and finally entered the room. "And what was so important to tear him from her side?"

"He said something about seeing a... host? Yes, The Host, he said."

"The Host," Cordelia frowned again, and then quickly stopped it. No need to get early wrinkles. "I see."

"Care to explain?" Giles asked. "Angel was in such a hurry, he didn't stop to do it and you seem familiar with it. Care to let me in?"

*****

Angel stared at the highway ahead of him and for the umpteenth time wished he hadn't been so old-fashioned when choosing his car. He would give a lot for a little more speed and little less nostalgia at the moment. Driving to L.A., talking to the Host, singing, or whatever you called what he'd done, and driving back meant not being at Buffy's side for more than five hours. It seemed as though an hour was an eternity.

He wasn't sure if his little visit at Caritas had really helped, or would help, but it was his only connection to the PTB, beside Cordelia of course but right now he didn't need a vision. That put her off the list.

He sighed in relief when he saw the familiar Sunnydale sign passing by. Five hours from her was like torture and he couldn't help but wonder how he'd managed to be without her for so long. Now, the mere idea of being parted again was filling his heart with such pain, such agony, he instantly pushed the thought aside and forced his mind back to the matter at hand.

Buffy had lost her will to live and Angel needed her to get it back. He needed to show here that there were things worth living for, and hoping for. That there was a reason for everything, including pain, that there might even be a reward waiting for them.

Ever since the last dream Angel had decided to tell her about his Shanshu and all that it could mean for them. He knew that he was walking on thin ice, because he had absolutely no idea if and when his redemption was due; if it even would happen during her lifetime, but maybe it would ignite that little flame again that was extinguished.

Angel hadn't liked Riley, but he realized that the boy cared for her, it had ripped his heart into shreds, but he hoped that Riley might be able to give her all the things the vampire had left her for.  He found out that the commando had failed. From what Willow, Giles, and Dawn had told Angel, Riley had left the slayer because he felt she couldn't love him.

While a nasty, little part of the vampire rejoiced at the fact that the soldier hadn't managed to get into her heart, the bigger part of him wanted to rip Riley apart for leaving her the moment she needed him most.  He needed to die for being so selfish to give up what Angel had to deny himself because of some stupid curse the gypsies had laid on him about a hundred years ago. That didn't mean that the vampire wasn't glad that the commando wasn't around anymore. The mere thought of sharing his place on Buffy's side with the vampire hunter…

Angel stopped his car in the hospital parking and made his way to the entrance, the nurses nodding at him, knowing his dark figure by now as the man who never left the comatose girl's side. Swift strides brought him to the familiar room that had almost become something like his second home over the past months and when he entered it a smile crept across his face.

Giles had fallen asleep on the chair beside Buffy's bed, a book in his lap, his glasses dangling askew on his nose.Angel stepped to his side and gently shook the watcher's shoulders. "Giles?"

"Wha-... What?" his head snapped up and he caught his glasses at the very last minute. The book on the other hand slipped from his thighs and met the ground with a loud 'thumb'. "Oh, Angel," Giles smiled at the vampire who was looking down at him. "You're back. Did you achieve your goal? Could the host help you see things more clearly?" When he saw Angel's brow rise, he explained, "Cordelia was here tonight and she told me a little bit about the Caritas."

"I see," the vampire nodded and pulled another chair to the bed to sit down as well. "To answer your question. I don't know if it helped, at all. We'll see as soon as we share a dream again." He quickly glanced at the sleeping slayer.

Giles nodded, and then looked at Angel through serious eyes, "But Cordelia came because, Angel, it seems Faith has met some vampire hunting commandos in L.A."

"What?" the vampire was instantly alert.

"Yeah," the watcher's face was wearing a concerned expression. "It seems the Initiative is back in California."

Go to the Part 7