|
F E A T U R E D F I C O F T H E M O M E N T
INDEX
BRE'S ARCHIVE
AUTHOR'S ARCHIVE
INTERACTIVE
AUTHOR
SITE
 S O M E P E O P L E N E E D S A V I N G S E R I E S B Y B R E P A R T S 4 - 7 Part Four
Buffy felt the sliver of excitement race through her body as she stepped into the backseat of Willow’s mother’s car. It was a rare occurrence when Sheila Rosenberg would drive her teenaged daughter to school and as Buffy settled in her seat, buckling her seatbelt, she could see Willow’s tense shoulders. No one spoke as Willow’s mother drove from the driveway and towards the school. Buffy couldn’t stop thinking about Friday. What was going to happen today? Would he come up to her? Would he kiss her? Would he... God, Buffy couldn’t help the grin that came over her lips at the thought of Angel Roarke - Angel Roarke - actually having feelings for her. It was enough to make her jump with joy! She had spent the weekend with Willow and her family. She didn’t bother telling her parents. She knew they wouldn’t care and if they did, then damn them to hell because they certainly had a weird way of showing it. After telling Willow about Angel, they had stayed up all night, talking - mostly Buffy - about what would happen. She couldn’t contain her excitement and it was contagious as Willow laughed with her, happy that Buffy had found something in her life to enjoy. Swallowing as the school came into view, she straightened in her seat, her eyes scanning the crowd for the man she was quickly beginning to think of as hers. When she didn’t see him, she didn’t think of the oddity as Mrs. Rosenberg pulled her car up to the curb in front of the school. Buffy smiled her thanks as Willow told her she would be home after school. Buffy felt sorry when she heard her best friend’s mother’s distracted tone as she thought about something more important than her own daughter. Then she realized that she was glad that Willow actually had parents who were more caring than her’s were. As the two girls exited the vehicle and the car moved away towards the busy streets, Buffy looked down at her outfit. She was wearing tight black pants and a white t-shirt with boots. She was borrowing them from the redhead and they had laughed when Willow noted that they were the only pieces of clothing in her closet without bright colors and cartoons. “Do I look okay?” Buffy asked her friend anxiously, running her hand down her side. Willow looked over at her, beaming. “You look great, Buffy. I’m sure he’ll go crazy!” Willow said excitedly, both of them walking towards the stone bench where Xander waited, his long body sprawled over the top as he dozed. “I still can’t believe it. Angel.” “I know. I can’t wait to see... where is he?” Buffy asked as her gaze ran over the students once more, still unable to find the object of her now growing affections. “Do you see him?” Willow followed in suit as she looked around the other groups of students, not able to find the popular boy. She shook her head, forcing a confident look on her face as she turned back to the blonde. “I’m sure he’s inside. Nothing to worry about.” Buffy grinned and Willow looked away, hiding her worry. What if he had been joking with Buffy? What if he had been playing with her and any minute he was going to laugh at her? Willow didn’t know what she would do if that happened to her and she knew that Buffy wouldn’t be able to take it. Her eyes darted over the grass as she tried to locate him once more. He was really nowhere to be found. The fact that several students’ eyes were on her as she walked towards Xander didn’t escape her attention and she stood tall, happy that they were realizing that she wasn’t all the trash they thought she was. Especially if Angel Roarke wanted her. The silly grin that she couldn’t get rid of once more danced across her face. Xander saw their approach out of the corner of his eye and sat up, taking his attention away from the pair of girls walking towards the school entrance, dressed in too-short skirts. Not that he minded. As he sat up and took his in his friends’ appearances, his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. “B-Buffy,” Xander said as she sat down next to him. She looked gorgeous. Radiant. More beautiful than she ever had. She was wearing a pair of excellently tight pants with an equally tight white t-shirt and some nice heeled boots. Her hair was pulled up in a freaky French twist thing he had never seen and she had some minimal makeup, that of which he had never seen grace her face. He stared at her with his mouth gaping open. She giggled. “Xander,” she said in a light tone, feeling happier than she had in years. Angel Roarke wanted her... everything was right with the world, especially when she was getting this kind of reaction. “Xander? Hello...” “Yeah... I mean... Yeah, I’m alive.” Xander shook his head. “Buffy... you look... awesome.” Buffy giggled again, blushing lightly. “Thanks. Say that to Willow, though. This was all her doing.” Xander turned his head to Willow and she smiled brightly, glad that his attention was on her. He grinned at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You’re great!” Buffy laughed out loud and her friends marveled at the twinkle in her voice. It was something they hadn’t ever heard before and they both looked at her in awe. She grinned back. Then the bell rang. Buffy once again looked around the visible school grounds. Her smile lost some luster as she realized that he was still nowhere she could see. Swallowing down her worry and ignoring the nervous and suspicious laced feelings in her stomach, she grabbed Willow’s hand and walked towards the school entrance. Willow smacked Xander’s arm as he openly stared at Buffy’s butt and he whipped his head around towards her, his eyes a mock of innocence. She rolled her eyes as they followed the blonde.
Buffy closed the door to her locker softly, her backpack laying at her feet. Twisting the small dial to erase her code, she turned around as she bent down to pick up her slightly torn bag. It did nothing for her appearance but she had been unwilling to wear the round, white backpack Willow had offered. The one with the little bunny and the large rainbow in the background. She still had to protect what little toughness was left to her appearance. It had been three hours since school had started and Buffy had yet to see Angel. He was nowhere to be found and she was beginning to think that he hadn’t shown. Maybe he was sick. Or maybe he had blown her off... Buffy shook her head. No way. He had been so... sincere that night. He couldn’t have. Anyway, she had English next, meaning she would see him whether or not he wanted to see her. Willow came up beside her, grinning. “Hey!” Buffy smiled back, her happiness from the beginning of the day having dimmed as time went by. As she continued to not see Angel. “Hey. Off to English we go?” “Yep,” Willow nodded. Her eyes looked over Buffy’s shoulder and her eyes grew wide. “Buffy!” she whispered excitedly, pointing slightly over her shoulder. Buffy felt her heart flutter and her stomach do a flip-flop as she realized who was coming. Angel. “Look!” Buffy turned around, her bag dropping to the floor as her eyes settled on the most gorgeous man she could ever hope to see. There he was, walking down the hallway, dressed in a pair of jeans and a black button up shirt. He looked amazing and she saw his best friend, Spike, walking next to him, his usual sneer upon his face as he carried a book. An English book. They were on their way to class. As they got closer to where she stood, she grinned, a bright beaming smile that wasn’t forced at all. Willow caught a glimpse of her face and stared at her, unable to not notice how her face completely opened and she seemed to glow. It was... weird, to say the least. Buffy clasped her hands behind her back as she stepped forward to greet Angel. She opened her mouth to say hi. She almost spoke. Until he breezed past her, his eyes never straying towards her general direction. Buffy felt the small breeze caress her face as she froze. Her smile immediately melted from her face as she turned around to watch his retreating back. And his girlfriend come up and wrap her arms around his waist. Buffy felt like dying.
Willow felt like kicking him, preferably in the shin or maybe even in another, more painful, area. She watched as her best friend wilted before her eyes. Gone was the radiant girl from this morning and replaced with an even more empty shell of the lost girl she had been before her transformation. Buffy began breathing heavily as she looked down to the floor, her eyes wide and disbelieving as the situation became evident to her. He didn’t even bother looking at her. She was... nothing to him. Nothing. Buffy brought her arms up around her middle, realizing how horrible she must really look. Looking down at her outfit, she looked back up to see them farther down the hall, entering their classroom. She couldn’t help but notice what Cordelia was wearing. And how beautiful she was compared to Buffy’s simple outfit. She felt like throwing up. Buffy’s face crinkled as a tear escaped her eye. How could she be so stupid? So fucking stupid? Turning around, she ran down the hallway, ignoring Willow’s call. Willow watched her retreating form. Watched her friend have a complete breakdown in the middle of the hall as students stared at her. Willow felt righteous anger fill her as she bent down to grab her friend’s bag before looking back at the classroom. She watched as the others filtered into their own rooms, watched as the hall slowly emptied. Class could wait. Willow ran after her blonde friend. It took her five minutes to find her, only to see that she had ended up in the boiler room. Remembering that Buffy had used to come down here to smoke when she was younger and that she had confessed that she felt safer in that one room than anywhere else didn’t escape Willow as she came down the steps slowly, looking around, calling her name softly. A small sniffle from the corner was her reply. Willow stared down at Buffy as she found her, fierce pity and sadness filling her suddenly. She sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It only made Buffy cry harder. “God, Willow, how could I be so stupid?” Buffy choked, staring at the wall before her as she the mental image of Angel stopping and hugging her came to mind. More tears slipped from her eyes. “Why did I let him do that? Why didn’t I slap him when he kissed him? When he said he was falling in love with me?” Willow shook her head, stroking Buffy’s shoulder before squeezing it lightly as she spoke. “It’s not your fault, Buffy. He’s just not a good person.” “No, I’m just the biggest fucking moron ever!” Buffy said loudly and wiped her eyes. “Why did I let him do this? Why me? Why couldn’t he have chosen someone who wasn’t me?” “Buffy...” “No!” Buffy shouted suddenly through her sobs. Willow jumped slightly. “It’s my fault! I liked him. God, I was going to tell him I love him today! I’m so...” Buffy choked on her words. “...so... stupid...” Willow didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have anything that would help her. She’d never experienced this before. It was new for both of them. Willow frowned as she leaned her head against Buffy’s as her blonde friend continued to sob against her.
Part Five
Angel didn’t know what to think. He felt horrible guilt rear up within him as he thought about the look on Buffy’s face when he passed her. But what was she expecting? Did she want him to go up to her and play happy? He couldn’t do that. No, not that. If that’s what she wanted than they most certainly could never be together. What would everyone say when he suddenly dumped Cordelia for Buffy, the school loser? She was the epitome of badness compared to him. She was nothing compared to him in the school and when he suddenly decided to go slumming with the worst breed? He wouldn’t survive, he knew that. But he was so confused. He didn’t know what to think now. I guess I could have at least smiled at her... acknowledged her... Then Angel shook his head. No. He couldn’t do that. Not at school and especially not around Spike and Cordelia. They would have both looked at him like he had two heads for even thinking about her. But then what could he do? He had been stupid when he said he had feelings for her. But then he couldn’t deny that either. He couldn’t deny that whenever he thought about her, he got a little shiver tracing his spine. And that confused him the most. Why did he have to like her? Couldn’t he like Cordelia? Wasn’t she his girlfriend? Sighing deeply as the teacher taught the class about something concerning a guy named Dante and The Divine Comedy - which he was pretty sure they covered a couple of years ago - he leaned his head against his fist, his mind racing to find a way around the problem he had created. But was she really a problem? And it hadn’t escaped him that she was missing from class. As was Willow. He could see Xander’s confusion as he tried to figure out where they had gone to. But Angel was pretty sure he knew about a certain blonde’s whereabouts. Buffy was probably crying somewhere. Angel forced a small smirk on his lips. Good. She deserved it, the stupid girl. For believing him. How naive and stupid could she possibly get? Then guilt reared it’s ugly heard and Angel closed his eyes in frustration. Dammit! It felt like there were two entirely different people inside his body and they were fighting for rights to control. It only added to his heaping pile of horrible confusion. A small piece of paper landing soundlessly on his desk captured his attention as he looked down at it, grateful for the reprieve. Looking over at Spike, he saw his bleached blonde friends staring at him expectantly. He moved to open the note. What in the bloody hell is wrong with you? You look like someone ran over your damned puppy then ate it’s brains. Angel winced at the mental image his words brought up. Was that how Buffy felt? Shaking his head and fighting against his battling emotions, he wrote back, Nothing. I’m just tired as shit. And thank you for the mental image. Very nice. Looking up to see if the teacher noticed anything, he quickly tossed it back as soon as she turned her back. He could feel Cordelia’s gaze hot on his back. He saw Spike smirk at his reply before shoving the note in his pocket. That was when the very blonde most of his thoughts centered around chose to walk in. Angel bit his tongue at her appearance. It was obvious she had washed her face a couple of times to rid of the puffiness that crying caused, but Angel could see her weariness. Could see her sadness. She avoided his gaze as she sat, Willow explaining to the teacher about their absences. Something about a jammed locker. But he knew better. As did Xander as he shot Buffy a worried glance before glaring at him over his shoulder. He avoided his look as he shifted his eyes towards the chalkboard as the teacher drew some kind of chart on the board. He couldn’t deal with this. She should know that. She should know, better than anyone, how a relationship between them could completely ruin him. If she was as nice as he believed her to be, then she would understand. Wouldn’t she?
Part Six
“What did he do?” Xander instantly demanded as soon as the class ended and they were in the hallway. “Did he hurt you?” “What?” Buffy asked incredulously. “Did he hurt me? Yeah, I guess you could say that...” Then she shook her head. “No. I mean no. He didn’t do anything. It was all me.” “You?” Xander stared at her. “Why am I having such a hard time believing that?” “Because,” Buffy snapped. “Just because you damn near well are! I’m not in the mood to talk, if that’s okay with you. Now leave me alone.” She pushed her way through the crowd, the knowledge that the very cause of her pain was standing a few paces behind the group having more to do with it than Xander’s incessant pushing. Xander stared at her retreated back as he turned to Willow, who watched sadly. “What happened?” “He just ignored her, Xander,” Willow said helplessly as Buffy pushed through the front doors and out into the hot sunshine. It was obvious she wasn’t coming back. “That’s all?” Willow snapped her head to him. “That’s all? That’s not all, Xander. Stuff happened Friday that meant a lot to her and he just... blew her off!” “What happened on Friday?” Xander asked, confused. “Why am I so suddenly out of the loop?” “Because you are. Because it was... stuff,” Willow replied, her argument weak but unable to come up with anything else as she walked towards the cafeteria. “She just needs some alone time...” “Alone time?” Xander asked, his voice unconsciously growing louder. Willow shushed him angrily. He talked to her in a lower tone, “Alone time? The way she was acting, I’m thinking she’s going to be doing a little more than sitting in a corner, crying.” “What are you saying?” Willow asked shocked. “How can you say that?” “I’m scared for her... that’s all,” Xander said defensively. “I don’t know why she is so in love with that freak!” Realization dawned on Willow’s face and Xander fought the urge to step back as they talked in the now empty hallway, her growing anger palpable The others had rushed off to get some lunch, whether actually leaving or eating in the cafeteria. Willow narrowed her eyes. “You still like her, don’t you?” Willow asked accusingly, pointing her finger in his face. “How can you think about yourself when Buffy just ran off crying?” “I’m not thinking about me,” Xander said, holding his hands up. “I’m thinking about her. And how she’s so hung up on this guy!” “I can’t believe you’re talking like this!” Willow said loudly. “You think that’s all that’s got her down?” Xander just shrugged. “She dressed up for him. She put on makeup for him. She borrowed clothing for him!” Willow waved her arms around in elaboration as she spoke. “Has she ever done that for anyone, Xander?” Xander shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “No. This guy is different to her and just because it’s not you she’s moping about doesn’t mean you have to say she’s about to do something... so stupid!” Willow shook her head as he moved to speak once more. Then she turned around and entered the cafeteria.
“Is there something you would like to tell me, mate?” Angel looked up. “What?” Spike looked around, watching for anyone who might overhear. They were seated in the cafeteria as they waited for Cordelia to come back with Harmony from where they fixed their makeup in the bathroom. They were going to go out and get something to eat. He turned his piercing eyes back to his best friend. “You know what I’m talking about.” Angel forced a look of innocence on his features as he shrugged his shoulders. “Actually I don’t, Spike.” Spike looked at him, his head cocking to the side as he raised an eyebrow, his patience slowly but surely running out. “A certain anorexic-looking chick that had your attention captured so wonderfully in English?” “Buffy? Summers?” Angel asked, pretending indifference. “I don’t what you’re talking about.” “Yeah, okay, and I screwed a bunny rabbit yesterday... Come on, do you think I’m that stupid? I’m your bloody best friend, ya poof. I know you a little better than you might be thinking.” Angel’s stare instantly turned to a glare as he looked at his friend. “What would you know about it, anyway?” Spike let loose a bark of laughter. “What would I know? That she’s head over heels in love with you, all over the drooling and swimming in your eyes, knowing your soul shit that chicks these days are so into.” Angel averted his gaze, looking over Spike’s shoulder. “Yeah, so?” Spike became serious. “I was just wondering what the hell you were doing.” “What are you talking about?” Spike rolled his eyes. “Oh, fuck, Angel...” Spike sighed, rubbing his eyes as he finally looked back to his friend. “What I want to know is if you are just as happy-joy-joy in love with her as she is with you?” Angel stared at his friend. “What?” “You heard me.” “Yeah, I heard you. But I didn’t know if I did correctly.” Angel paused, and Spike knew instantly that it was true but Angel didn’t notice his small realization as he forced his dismissive behavior. “I’m not fucking in love with her! Okay?” Spike didn’t respond as Angel stood from the table. “I’m not hungry. Tell Cordelia I’ll talk to her later.” Spike didn’t acknowledge his friend’s request as he looked out the window into the shiny courtyard. Angel Roarke was in love with Buffy Summers... and she felt the same. Spike didn’t know whether he wanted to slap them both for their damned stupidity or laugh from the pure amusement. Or maybe pat his friend on the back in congrats. Shaking his head to rid himself of his thoughts, he looked down at his hands, his black-painted fingernails. Angel couldn’t do this to himself. He couldn’t let that little girl who prided herself on her tough chick exterior ruin Angel’s life. Because he was sure that was what she would do.
Buffy took her time walking home from school. She realized it was the middle of the day and that she should sitting down to lunch with her friends but she just couldn’t bring herself to give a shit about the fact that she would miss her last couple of classes. But she didn’t want to go home either. She didn’t want to face her father’s anger that she had disappeared for an entire weekend. But she had nowhere else to go and the knowledge ate away at her insides. Maybe he would be at work. Maybe he found a new job and he was there right now, instead of at home, waiting to beat her. Buffy ignored the heavy heat surrounding her as she finally came to a stop outside her house. It looked somewhat normal in the sunlight but she knew better. She knew that her parents were either in there, getting drunk and fucking in their bedroom, causing more pain than anything, or out working to get paid in money that would be spent on more alcohol. Buffy shuddered as her thoughts lead her towards less pleasant areas in her memory. Buffy felt the heavy hand falling on her cheek as if it had just happened and she lifted her hand to her healed face, wincing as a tear slid down her face. Angel had done the same thing... touched her... that night... when he said he was falling in love with her... Buffy felt like dying... or maybe just kicking his ass. The thought only brought a new onslaught of pain. She couldn’t even if she wanted. Turning, Buffy sat down heavily on the curb before her house, her eyes straying to the other yards. She noted the bright green of their yards, the vibrant life of their plants... they all looked happy while her house looked sad and run down and beaten beyond repair... just as she felt in that moment. Maybe if her parents hadn’t changed... maybe if they hadn’t allowed their lives to go down the drain so easily... maybe then Angel would like her. He wouldn’t breeze past her in the hallway. He would be loving and accepting of her and kiss her in front of everyone... in front of Cordelia who would huff and turn her nose upwards in her snobby way. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t good enough for him. She wasn’t what he obviously wanted. He wanted a girlfriend who could buy her own food. He wanted a mate who could dress just as good as him. He wanted someone who wasn’t thin as a rail and hungry constantly. He didn’t want her. Another tear slid down her cheek as she winced at the rawness of her eyes. Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she had cried as hard as she did when Angel didn’t look at her. When he turned his own damned nose up. Angry tears mixed with bitter sadness escaped down her face as she leaned her head forward into her hands, sobbing, unable to stop the onslaught. Why her? Why couldn’t he choose someone else? Like that Amanda girl? Why not her? What kind of sick person took a girl’s heart and twisted it to his own pleasure. A bastard did, Buffy realized. He’s just a goddamned bastard. Buffy’s head snapped up when she heard the loud banging of a screen door and she looked over her shoulder instantly when she heard loud footsteps. Her eyes widened when she saw her father approaching, his anger heavy in the air. She didn’t move, frozen, as he stood before her. He looked horrible. He was wearing a dirty pair of dark slacks and a stained blue t-shirt. There were dark circles under his eyes and he stank of alcohol as his eyes burned with a seething rage that made Buffy wince and look away. “Where the fuck have you been?” he demanded and Buffy didn’t look up, not responding. He wouldn’t dare touch her in public, would he? Buffy prayed he wouldn’t. “You fucking answer me this fucking goddamn minute.” Buffy squeezed her eyes shut. He won’t hurt me out here. He won’t. He won’t. Buffy began the mantra in her head and refused to stop as he bent over, his hand reaching out sharply to grab her upper arm. She released a small whimper. “Where did you get these clothes, you little bitch?” he asked in a low voice. “Did you steal them? Huh?” Buffy’s eyes snapped open when she felt his rough fingers grab her chin and force her to face him. She almost coughed as his harsh breath washed over her face. “You had better answer me right fucking now,” Hank said in a low, threatening voice as his fingers squeezed her chin. She released a shocked breath as she whispered Willow’s name. He jerked her chin roughly, causing her head to rock back and forth before settling. She shut her eyes once more. “Don’t lie to me.” “I’m not,” Buffy whispered hopelessly, her eyes filling with tears as they opened once more, squinting in the harsh light as she stared up into his eyes. “Why are you such a fucking liar?” he asked loudly before grabbing her arms roughly and yanking her up. “You are just like your stupid slut of a mother.” Buffy gasped out, then cried out in pain as he dug his blunt nails in her upper arms as he pulled her up with him. “No!” she cried out helplessly as he pulled her towards the house, her bag forgotten. He stopped almost immediately and whipped around, his hand coming down against her cheek painfully, forcing her head to the side as the force of the blow rocked inside her head. “Shut the fuck up!” Hank yelled before yanking her arm harder and pulling her towards the door. Buffy stumbled after him, falling to the ground, crying out as he didn’t stop, but continued dragging her to the door. Buffy felt her entire being shatter as she cried out for help, only to be ignored as the quiet neighborhood suddenly grew deathly silent as the heavy front door slammed behind her shouts.
Part Seven
It was several hours after Spike’s little intervention and Angel was still driving around town aimlessly. How could he know what was going on inside his head? Angel remembered with perfect clarity the fear that arose in his chest when Spike confronted him and wondered how such a thick-headed guy as Spike could be so observant. Angel wondered if everyone else he had ever known knew about his little problem. But then was it really a problem? Was it something so horrible that he couldn’t stand it enough to look it in the face and tell it to go away? Angel knew the answer. He also knew that the fact that the so-called it was in actuality a person... a person whom he had strong and bewildering feelings for. Angel sighed heavily as he turned down a street he had never really remembered ever being down before. Looking around, he realized that this was what he considered ‘poor’ and knew that Buffy lived here somewhere. In such a small town, it wasn’t a surprise that he knew where every single damn person in the school lived. As he approached her house, he easily singled it out by it’s horrible disrepair. The house was in awful shape as was the yard and the sidewalk. Everything about the place screamed, “Help me!” and Angel couldn’t ignore it. Parking his car across the street from the obvious house, he climbed out and shut the door quietly, walking around to lean against the passenger side of the BMW as he stared at the house in the growing darkness. What was it about her that drew him? Why was it her that caught his attention? He couldn’t seem to pinpoint the cause of his distress, unwilling to name her as the culprit. But he couldn’t deny that the thought of her blonde hair, glowing brightly in the sun, was enough to make his heart beat a bit more rapidly. Looking down, Angel shook his head. This was too much for a teenager to handle, he decided. He didn’t need this kind of stress right now. He didn’t want it. Standing tall, Angel prepared to go back around his vehicle and get into his car when he spotted a dark heap in front of the Summers house. Furrowing his brow, Angel looked down the street before crossing and picking up the black bundle. Immediately recognizing it as Buffy’s backpack, Angel frowned. What was it doing on the sidewalk in front of her house instead of inside with her? Looking up at the house suspiciously, Angel hesitated before shrugging and turning around. Well, that was her business now. He didn’t need the stress, if he remembered correctly. Then he heard a strangled shout come from within the house and Angel instantly knew whom the voice belonged to. “Buffy,” he whispered before running up to the door.
He couldn’t believe his eyes the minute he entered the house. Everything was dark except for a lone lamp laying in the corner of the living room, barely giving any light to the room, but enough. Enough for him to see what was happening to the girl he suddenly knew he loved more than anything in that moment. There was a strange woman laying on the floor in the opposite corner of the lamp, a large bottle of amber liquid in her limp hand as she laid heavily against the floor, her body seemingly lifeless. But her chest rose every few seconds in a strangled breath and Angel could see the drying blood on her forehead and her mangled wrist. His eyes instantly darted towards the heart of the room where a couch was lain on it’s side and Buffy was pressed up against the bottom of it, the torn material revealing hard springs which she was pushed into. She was bleeding and had a dark bruise on her chin. Bruises littered the flawless skin he had seen earlier and one of the boots she had worn that day was missing. Her shirt was torn and her pants were darker with the blood as she shivered against the couch, sobbing silently as she breathed in roughly. A large man stood above her, his hand gripping her ankle as he prepared to do God knows what. Angel couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Was this how bad Buffy’s life was? Was this how bad it always got? Angel felt like throwing up at that moment as Buffy looked up at him, her eyes utterly empty as she stared blankly at him, tears still coming down her cheeks. “Who the hell are you?” the man demanded and Angel turned his gaze back to him. Anger filled him like nothing before and he stepped forward. “Get away from Buffy,” he said in a low voice, his fists forming at his sides. The man laughed. “Or what?” he asked mockingly, his voice distant and rough with years of drinking and smoking. He looked down at his battered daughter where she wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to pull her legs up as well. But he yanked her leg back down, his voice deep with rage. “Is this the boy that you’ve been fucking, Buffy?” Buffy shook her head and mouthed ‘no’, her puffy lip causing her to wince as she tried to form the word. She looked up at Angel desperately, her eyes begging him to leave so he couldn’t get hurt. As badly as he had hurt her, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve this kind of life. She didn’t deserve him and she knew that now as she stared at him, standing in her rundown living room. “I said get away from her,” Angel repeated and the man looked back up at him, all traces of mocking amusement gone. He now looked extremely pissed off. He stood and Buffy brought her legs up to her chest as she tried to rise after her father. “Angel,” she said weakly, still unable to stand as she fought for leverage against the couch. Hank turned around and kicked her viciously in the ribs and she cried out sharply as she curled into a small ball, a feeble attempt to protect herself. That was all it took for Angel. He rushed the larger man and Hank didn’t see it coming. He found himself rammed into the wall behind him, his head flying back with the impact and slamming into it. Dizziness attacked him as he blurrily watched the young man whom had come barging into his house rush to his daughter’s side and gently pick her up, his actions hurried. His rage built quickly. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he yelled, his voice slurred as his head fought against the dizziness and alcohol in his system. “Get away from her!” “Come on, Buffy,” Angel said in a low voice, attempting to pick her up only to have her suddenly spring free at her father’s angry voice. She looked purely frightened as she looked up at the looming man and Angel grabbed her by the waist before her father could touch her, half dragging her towards the door until he had her standing where he then proceeded towards the door, his arms still firmly around Buffy’s waist as he lifted her from the ground, carrying her limp form. Barging through the front door, Angel ran towards his car, the sounds of Buffy’s father banging around in the house echoing in his ears as Buffy sobbed into her hands, his arms carrying her effortlessly. Hank bounded through the doorway, his fist in the air as he stumbled towards Angel. But Angel was already across the street. He ran around his car, opening the front door and gently as he could in his hurried pace placing Buffy in the seat next to him, lifting her over the gear shift and brake. Hank was to the middle of the street by the time Angel had the car started. Pushing his foot into the gas pedal, he heard the tires squealing before the car took off into the night, Buffy’s weeping form sprawled against the passenger door window. Hank screamed at the top of his lungs, cursing his daughter and the young man as he stared at the disappearing taillights.
l be kind, rewind l back to top l
Some of the fanfiction featured on this site contains adult content and situations not suited for people under the age of 18. They are properly marked. You have been warned.
|
