Rating: PG.
Spoilers: erm. none I think.
Summary: It's five years in the future, and Buffy has recently died from cancer. Angel is visiting her grave.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. 'Nuff said. Emily Bronte wrote the poem 'Remembrance,' on which the story is based (read the poem first cuz it's important to the story and it's good).
Author's note: Tissue warning (or so I've been told)!!! This is not a happy one guys.
Feedback: Oh yes please!!!! &

61514; I love to hear what you guys think!

Cold in the earth, and the deep snow piled above thee!
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my Only Love, to love thee,
Severed at last by Time's all-wearing wave?
Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover
Over the mountains, on that northern shore;
Resting their wings where hearth and fern-leaves cover
Thy noble heart for ever, ever more?
Cold in the earth, and fifteen wild Decembers
From those brown hills have melted into spring --
Faithful indeed is the spirit that remembers
After such years of change and suffering!
Sweet Love of youth, forgive if I forget thee
While the World's tide is bearing me along:
Other desires and other hopes beset me,
Hopes which obscure but cannot do thee wrong.
No later light has lightened up my heaven,
No second morn has ever shone for me:
All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given --
All my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.
But when the days of golden dreams had perished
And even Despair was powerless to destroy,
Then did I learn how existence could be cherished,
Strengthened and fed without the aid of joy;
Then did I check the tears of useless passion,
Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;
Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more than mine!
And even yet, I dare not let it languish,
Dare not indulge in Memory's rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again?

-Emily Bronte

"It has been three days-three days since Willow call me and told me the horrible news-three days since my world collapsed at my feet. When she told me what had happened to you, I dropped the receiver and ran to my car. I came back as quickly as I could-but I wasn't quick enough. You had already been stolen from me. My arms suddenly felt empty; my unbeating heart shattered into a million pieces.

"At first, I refused to believe it. I expected to find you in the graveyard, punning at some unfortunate vampire. Instead, I found you buried in the ground beneath my feet. It wasn't supposed to be this way. You weren't supposed to die like this. You deserved far better.

"I can't imagine the mental torment you must have endured over the past few months. I wish I could've been there to lift some of the weight from your shoulders. But you didn't call me. You never asked for my help. I wish you had.

"Willow tells me you were brave. She said she never saw you cry; you never asked for pity. That seems like you-unselfish to the bitter end. She told me that although your body was riddled with cancer, and you had lost all your slayer muscles, the fire that truly was your essence never left your eyes. She told me that you asked her not to tell me you were sick. "He'd only worry," you said. Instead, you slowly faded away without me. She gave me your letter, and she told me told me you wrote it only hours before your beautiful hazel eyes closed for the last time." Angel pulled her letter from his pocket and reread it slowly in his head:

My Angel,

It is my hope that this letter never reaches you. If indeed it has, I have lost my hardest battle. It's a horrible feeling to know that a demon is living inside your body, eating you away, and you are powerless to stop it. Is that how you feel?

I'm sorry I never called you and told you I was dying. I knew you'd come and stay with me if you knew. I didn't want to be a burden. I need you to know, however, that I never stopped loving you. Your smile, your touch, the feeling of your hands on my skin, never left my mind, or my heart. I loved you till the bitter end. I loved you with my last breath of life, with the last beat of my heart.

On the hardest days, the days when I struggled to even breathe, the sound of your voice in my head was all that kept me from giving up. I could hear you telling me that everything was going to be alright-that I wasn't going to die. But that voice, your voice, was only in my head. And, as strong as I was, I gave up in the end anyway.

This is how it ends. Not in a sewer, or a crypt in some grand fight, but in a quiet hospital room hooked up to countless beeping machines. This isn't how I wanted to die. I wanted to pass away gently in your arms. But I guess we can't have everything we want.

In the end, it was my time with you that meant the most to me, and I wish we'd had more time together. I wish I hadn't let you leave me. You didn't seem to understand that I didn't want a normal life. I was willing to give up everything-a house with a white picket fence, a family, a car, and a job as a postal worker-just to be with you. I depended on you more than I could ever depend on these things. I want you to know that I was happy, for a time. I had good friends, and family, my calling (although I protested my fate) and true love, if even for a little while. So, don't mourn for me. I will always be watching over you from somewhere, making sure you don't do anything stupid. And I will never hold anything but love for you in my heart.

Never forget the feelings we shared or the time we spent together. Never forget how much I love you.

Yours in life and death,
Buffy

P.S. Promise me that you'll stay and take care of Giles and everyone when I'm gone. They'll need someone to protect them, and my illness certainly has taken its toll.

Angel folded the crumpled piece of paper and shoved it back in his pocket. He didn't want to promise her anything. In fact, he'd come here with the intention of ending his life so that he could finally be with her; however, he could deny her nothing. He'd follow her to the end of the earth and back if that's what she wanted. So, he'd remain on earth to watch over her family, as she'd wished.

Slowly, he lowered his eyes to her grave; it was littered with flowers and letters from her friends and family. Carefully, he placed a single white rose with a blood red ribbon tied around its stem directly in front of the white stone. He stuck the end into the ground, so the rose stood up on its own. The simple white flower represented the purity of their love, while the red ribbon represented their passion as well as the struggles they faced and overcame together.

"I brought this for you," he spoke into the ground. "I don't know if you can hear me, but." he paused, fumbling with his fingers. "I um. I'm sorry I didn't get here in time to say goodbye. I wish you'd told me, Buffy. I missed you so much, I.. You wouldn't have been a burden on me. You never could," he made a feeble attempt to wipe a tear from his cheek.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to go on living knowing that you're gone. I don't want to keep going. Without you, there isn't any reason to keep fighting. But, I will because I know that's what you would've wanted."

As he spoke, it began to rain. Dark clouds covered the moon and thunder bellowed around him. The flowers on her grave shrunk away from the harsh rain, their petals all wilting and loosing their color. All except Angel's rose. The ribbon was blowing back and forth in the wind, but the rose didn't wilt; not one petal fell from the flower. The rose was indeed a symbol-a symbol of their everlasting love-never fading, never faltering, and never falling to the powerful wind.

Despite the rain, Angel stayed in his position by her grave. He wiped his hand through his wet hair and pulled his leather jacket tighter around his waist.

"Willow told me that you asked to be buried with your ring-the one I gave your for your birthday that year. She said you wanted on a silver chain around your neck; it was your reminder of me as you slowly faded away."

He paused for a moment and pulled his ring of his finger; he'd been wearing it for so long that it left a white band on his skin. "I haven't taken this off since that night," he rolled the ring between his fingers. "I want to leave this with you, as a reminder of my love for you." He kissed the ring and placed it on top of her gravestone. After considering it for a moment, he raised his fist above his head and used all his strength to pound it into the top of the stone. "I never stopped loving you. I hope you knew that."

Angel stepped backward from the gravestone and glanced at it one last time.

Here lies Buffy Anne Summers.
Beloved daughter, friend and mentor.
Although she is no longer in our presence, she is in our minds often and in our hearts always.

"We'll be together one day, my love. One day." he turned and walked away from her grave. Behind him, his ring, now embedded permanently in her gravestone, glistened in the rain. His perfect rose lay on the grass in front of the stone, the deep red ribbon blowing, lonely, in the wind.

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