Disclaimer: Evil, Evil Joss owns them
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: A POV fic. I took a little departure here. I also took a little break from "End of Innocence". I'm almost finished part five and it'll be out soon. I wrote this one at two in the morning after crying over lots of Roswell and Buffy fanfics, so don't be surprised if it's not really coherent, or in any way well written!
Summary: Buffy thinks about things.
Feedback: PLEASE! I really need it after writing this. Be kind.
Distribution: You want it? Take it, just send me the URL
Cate: B/A, POV

Sometimes I like to sit on the porch at night.

I sit here but I don't look up at the sky. Maybe it's just too big. That much space scares me. I look into the darkness. When the moon isn't full I can't see very far out here. It's full of shadows.

I think of Angel a lot, when I sit out here. I don't try and force the memories back anymore. I learned that they come when they want to. Unbidden, maybe even unwanted. They'll come anyway. Memories. The past would eat me alive if I let it. But I don't, because I can be strong, after all I made it my job to be strong for half my life.

I once told him that when I looked into the future, he was all I saw.

I was right. He is still all I see, if only at night, on the porch, when my mind wanders as it tends to do. When I said those words, I had an idealistic view of them. I thought it meant that Angel and I were going to get married, have 2.5 kids and a nice house in the suburbs. I thought it meant we would love each other forever. I thought it meant we would be happy.

Of course I didn't know what was coming.

Death, blood, the mayor, Faith, Angelus.

I had no idea and that killed us.

In the end, he was right. I was too young to deal with us. I was too naïve and too starry-eyed. Maybe I thought our love meant ice cream and wedding dresses, kisses and children. Instead it meant loneliness. It meant we couldn't be together.

Isn't that funny? Sometimes I still want to laugh at the irony of it. We loved each other so much it ended up keeping us apart.

I did love him. I know I did, and it hurts to know it. I wish that I had discovered it was only a mirage, that true love was waiting for me, and it was so much better. But it wasn't. Nothing came along. No knight on a white steed. I made my own little life without any fairy tales.

Sometimes I wonder.did he love me enough? Did he want to fight? Or was he, as he always said, essentially just too weak to deal with it?

I dream about him at night sometimes. But I never remember them clearly in the morning, which angers me. I used to hate dreams, now I crave them. When I wake up, as the sun hits my face, I can feel the tears on my cheeks. Only in my sleep do I weep for him. He comes to me, I think, and that's where we build the future we never had. The future we were not meant to have.

Sometimes I think I have dreams about killing him. Sometimes I think I have dreams about making love to him. And then sometimes I think have dreams of doing things differently. You know that moment he left me.I wish I had done something dramatic. Maybe pulled a Juliet and slammed a knife into my heart. Or ran after him, pleading with him to stay. STAY Angel. Please, stay. Just be with me and everything will be right. At least things will make sense. At least I won't be empty. Or maybe I wish I had taken a stake and driven it through him. Crushed his weak little heart that couldn't love me enough. Destroyed it before it could leave me.

So many things I could have done. So many things I could have said, or screamed, or sobbed. But I just stood there, and watched him walk away. It wasn't even in slow motion. There weren't any special effects. I didn't cry or shout or do anything. Just.watched. And he left. He left me.

When I sit on the porch I have a blanket wrapped around my knees. It's not cold out, but I like it. It makes me feel safer. Is sit on the swing, and rock back and forth, a steady motion that is reassuring in its normalcy.

I remember doing Tai Chai with him. The slow movements of our muscles and the scent of his sweat. Our bodies curving and dipping in unison, graceful like swans we bent, our arms reaching for something unknown. He would get close and I could feel his hunger. He wanted to kiss me, and as usual, I had to be the strong one. Pull away, because that was my job. To be smart and plucky and goddamn Buffy. Would hate to see her fail. Would hate it if she didn't kill her boyfriend to save the planet. Would hate to see that girl lose. So I pulled away and he looked as if he was breathing heavily even though he had no breath and we play acted for a while. Our flesh was frustrated and the air was charged and it makes me want to scream even thinking about it now.

He got to be weak a lot of the time. I never did. I had to do the right thing. Stick the sword into him. Let Acathla eat him for breakfast. Hello, Goodbye, Angel. Nice to have met you. Nice to have loved you. But the world needs saving, so you have to go, ok?

I had to understand why everyone was mad he was back. Had to give explanations for running away. Had to be strong. Strong, strong, strong. Be strong, Buffy, you're my hero. How could you keep Angel being back from us Buffy?

How could you do anything wrong, Buffy?

Had to save him when he was standing on that hilltop and he wanted to kiss the sunrise. Had to plead with him. Cry over him. Prove to him that I loved him. Prove to him that he was worthy. I love you so much.

Had to watch him leave. Turn his back and spin away like a dime. Maybe he did love me too much. But I think I loved him *enough*. I loved him enough to fight for him. For us. He couldn't even do that. He didn't want me to be unhappy, tied to him. Little did he know. The bonds that tied us went far deeper than we realized.

My heart hurts just thinking about this. It's still a sharp pain. It hasn't dulled like I thought it would. You know, like everyone says. Time heals all wounds or something like that. Yeah, right. Time just adds more hours to how much I think about him. Adds more and more to how much I love him.

I still love him.

Sometimes I don't admit that to myself, but tonight I will.

I still love the man I knocked on his back in that ally. I still love the man that loved me with all his heart. Maybe his heart wasn't so weak. It would have taken a strong heart to love me, I know that. I still dream of his soft kiss. That one night we came out of the rain into each other's arms. That only night we had together. Still fresh in my mind. If I think hard I can taste him. Smell him.

"Ms. Summers."

It's that woman again. Calling me inside. I like the porch and I like the night. I like the shadows. I've told her that many times, but of course she won't listen.

"Ms. Summers, time to come inside."

"In a minute," I call, defiant as always. I hear the sigh, and she closes the door with a soft thud.

They don't know what to do with me here. An eighty-nine year old woman that still dyes her hair blonde and won't play cards with the rest of them? What is the world coming to? I laugh quietly at my thoughts and finally look up at the sky.

I wonder if he is up there. Ever since he died, I have wondered that. I visited his grave up until last year, when it got too hard for me to go out there. It's a long drive and the nurses hate it. Rather than listen to them, I have given it up. But in my mind, I go there. To the grassy hilltop I have visited once a week since I was forty. I was forty when he died. It was funny, because I always thought he would go from a huge battle, or maybe he would kill himself, tragically. But he didn't.

Angel died in a random fight with a creature he had fought millions of times before. A Slayer. The Slayer that was called after me. She didn't know what he was when she met him in LA. Every day I curse her Watcher for not telling her. The Council does not get a Christmas card from me each year.

It's hard to believe it's been almost fifty years since he left me once more.

"Ms. Summers.please come inside."

"Yes," I finally agree, with a great deal of irritability in my tone.

Standing up without help, I glance once more at the shadows. They shimmer and curl in the evening darkness.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," I whisper, and blow him a kiss.

Please feedback me! This fic made me cry when I was writing it.could be from exhaustion, I'm not sure! But please tell me what you thought! Your feedback will be devoured and worshipped!

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