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 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 8 - 10 Part Eight
Buffy stared at the wall forlornly, her back to the room as she laid on a bed softer than anything she had ever slept on, let alone laid on. The soft comforter caressed her agitated skin and it made Buffy want to cry. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong in a room that appeared bigger than her entire house. She most certainly didn’t belong in his bed. Buffy shifted slightly and she closed her eyes as a tear escaped. It ran down past her temple to soak in the warm bed and her tousled hair. It hurt, the lonely tear. Her eyes felt swollen and they were so sore from her constant crying... She was at a loss of what to think, confusion so palpable in her chest that she could feel it bearing down on her throat as more tears threatened to spill. What had he been doing there? How did he know where she was? Why was he there? Buffy forced her slightly muted hopes down as she knew that it was most likely coincidence. He didn’t care. His actions from Friday had all been a sick ploy on his part to see her in pain. Or that’s what it felt like. Wrapping her bruised arms around her body as best she could laying down, she curled in on herself, quelling a sharp hiss as her ribs throbbed painfully beneath her limbs. He had seen it. He had seen what her father did to her. Buffy didn’t wish that on him. She didn’t want him to see the hell that was her life, no matter how much he hurt her. It sickened her enough that her friends knew. And now he did... he saw what she suffered at her father’s hands. God, what must he be thinking? She knew she really didn’t want to know. Disgust was the likely winner apart from sympathy and pity. Which she didn’t want. She didn’t need. She knew the shit she had to endure. And she knew there was nothing she could do about it. Buffy hated the fact that she actually cared about what he thought. Especially after what he had done to her. After everything that happened Friday, he ignored her and made her feel like the stupidest person in the world. He made a fool of her and she knew she should hate him, but she couldn’t. He had been in her dreams for so long and when he had said that he might have... feelings for her, she had instantly jumped at the chance. She had known that she would have probably swam across the Atlantic Ocean if he asked, possible or not. But what should she have expected? Angel Roarke was the most popular boy, Cordelia Chase was his girlfriend and he appeared richer than Bill Gates. Why had Buffy been so stupid? How could she have believed him when he said that he was falling in love with her? More tears streaked across her face as she turned her face into the plump pillow, urging herself to stop crying. After everything he had just done, he probably didn’t need to see her tears. He was probably downstairs calling a cab company, asking them to come pick up this love-sick, sadly abused little girl and have them drop her off at Willow’s... Buffy remembered vividly her father’s rage as Angel had picked her up and carried her from the house. He remembered his curses and his rants as he had followed them out onto the street. She also remembered Angel’s soft words after they had rounded the corner, his direction taking him towards the wealthier parts of town. He had told her to stop crying... he kept asking her if she was okay, if she should go to the hospital - upon which she instantly denied - and she had even felt his hand on her side. But she hadn’t stopped crying. By the time they reached his house, Buffy had practically cried herself to sleep and Angel gently nudged her before stepping out of the car and circling around to open her door. He moved to pick her up when she told him that she could do it herself, her voice snappish. He hadn’t appeared ruffled by her attitude but had merely looked at her before stepping back and allowing her to climb out. She told him to take her to Willow’s when she was finally standing on her shaky legs, only to fall forward as her knees gave out. Her entire body shook as he placed a firm grip on her ribs, where she cried out from the instant pain. He had then proceeded to gather her in his arms, cradling her against his chest, careful not to place any pressure on her ribs, as she wrapped her arms around her body, as if in protection. After walking carefully through the dark house, careful not to bump into any furniture that might alert his parents, whom resided in their bedroom, he carefully placed her on his bed before disappearing with the pretense that he was going to make a call. Buffy had instantly curled up against the wall, feeling completely out of place in the large room. Scooting forward until her nose was practically touching the hard divider of rooms, she had resigned herself to wait. It was foreign, being in such lavish surroundings, and even worse in the clothes she wore. She regretted ever thinking that she could change for him. It had been so damn naive of her that she wanted to be sick. Buffy sniffled as tears began a steady stream down the side of her face. Closing her eyes, she released a strangled whimper that seemed to echo in her ears. He had seen it all. He had seen her drunk mother, laying knocked out in the corner while her father took out his fury on his only daughter. Angel had seen her life at the worst it had ever gotten. Buffy felt ashamed and sad that he had ever set eyes on her in the first place. The worst of the fights in the Summers’ house were limited to weekends and long vacations, when Buffy wouldn’t be needed to enter the outside world for a long while. She kept most of the marks and bruises hidden and put herself behind what she had originally believed to be a strong wall as she lived her life to the best extent, which happened to be horrible effort on her part. Until the damned project and Angel’s proclamation of love. “Buffy.” Buffy stiffened at her name. Was he here to take her downstairs and forever out of his life, not even offering a sorry for his behavior at school and a pity line for her life? She didn’t turn around as he said her name again, but merely closed her eyes at his deep voice. He’ll go away. He’ll ignore me. Please, please don’t talk to me... “Buffy, look at me.” Buffy felt her throat constrict and her eyes water at the pleading tone of his voice. Who the hell did he think he was? He wasn’t going to comfort her, if that’s what he was thinking. She wouldn’t let him touch her. Not after what her father did and definitely not after his ignorance during school. “Buffy... No... no... I won’t look at you... you’ll just go away... please go away... “I need to talk to you.” “No,” Buffy finally choked out as the tears she had fought to hold back finally were released. Releasing a sob, she curled her body tighter, unable to hold back the whisper of pain as her ribs and arms were jostled, the cuts on her face rubbing more fully into the comforter. “Don’t...” “Please look at me... Buffy, I’m not going anywhere until I talk to you.” “About what?” Buffy asked brokenly. “There’s nothing to talk about.” Angel stared incredulously at her back. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Nothing to talk about? Then what was that that just happened at your house, Buffy? Is that a daily routine?” Buffy didn’t answer as his angry words sunk in. Was it a daily routine? It might as well have been for as shitty as she felt in that moment... Angel sighed deeply as he stared at her back, the clean, crisp white shirt she had worn to school now torn and stained with blood and alcohol. He hadn’t been able to believe what he had seen when he got Buffy out of the house. He hadn’t known that it got that bad. He stupidly assumed that she got hit once every month or so. Nothing as serious as what he had witnessed. Which was what was behind the purpose of his downstairs call... “I’m sorry, Buffy... Please turn around... I really need to talk to you.” “About what?” Buffy called over her shoulder, her small voice traveling through his room. “Do you want to deliver some lame pity lines then throw me out?” Angel furrowed his brows. “I would never do that.” Buffy snorted as she finally turned around. Angel got his first, true glimpse of her face and he winced. Her hair had been torn from it’s earlier confinement, now a mussed mess around her dirty face where cuts and blood were dried. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot from the tears she had cried as more streaked down her face, her eyes glittering in the little light his bedside lamp provided. But that wasn’t the worse. It was what was behind her red eyes. The emptiness. The abandoned look in her eyes. She looked lost and scared and overall terribly saddened as she stared at him. Buffy noticed his physical reaction to her appearance and she felt her face crumple as more tears forced their way out. No, this wasn’t right. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She didn’t ,i>belong here. “I want to go to Willow’s.” Angel watched as she attempted to sit up. The kick she had received to her ribs was the obvious cause of pain as it had been earlier as she sat up, a sob pushing it’s way past her lips. Angel was there in a second, his hand on her side and the other cupping the back of her head as he attempted to push her back. But she would have none of it. His touch only seemed to make her cry more. “Don’t,” Buffy whimpered, her hand reaching out to push his away. But he was stronger, much stronger than her at the moment and when he didn’t release her, she simply fell back, closing her eyes as she blocked him out. Maybe if she was successful, he would simply disappear. But she wasn’t that lucky as she still felt his hand on her side and his heavy bulk dipping the bed as he leaned towards her. “Buffy, please. Just listen to me.” Buffy shook her head. She didn’t want to hear his pity. She didn’t want to hear anything he said. She didn’t need to speak as she began to sob quietly, turning her head away from him. He didn’t move to stop touching her. “You’re father is in jail, Buffy.” Buffy inhaled quickly as she looked back to him, her eyes wide. A small tear escaped her eye as she stared. His expression was somewhat shuttered but she could read the honesty. She gasped as her heart filled with a mixture of doubt, fear and relief. “What?” “I called the police.” “You called... What? Why? You... I can’t believe... why?...” Buffy shook her head as she attempted to sit up once again but Angel pushed her back down. This time she went back down without complaint. “I called them to tell them what happened but apparently one of your neighbors had already taken care of it. Hank Summers won’t be a problem for you anymore, Buffy. I won’t let it.” “No,” Buffy whispered, his final words falling on deaf ears as she processed the information. “How could you do that? He’s my father!” Angel looked confused as he pulled away from her. “How could I do that, Buffy? How... after I saw what he was doing to you...” “Why the fuck do you even care?” Buffy yelled suddenly, sitting up swiftly, the sharp pain ignored. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who wanted nothing to do with me!” “Well things change!” Angel yelled back. “I was fucking stupid, okay? God, Buffy, when I saw what he was doing to you... I wanted to kill him!” “Don’t talk to me about that stupid bullshit... not again!” Buffy shifted, curling her arms around her knees as she brought them to her chest, her pain forgotten in the wake of her anger. “I can’t believe you would want to pull that on me... especially after what you did.” “What I did? If I remember correctly, I just saved you from something that could have been seriously- “ “Not that!” Buffy cried out as tears welled in her eyes. “At school... when you ignored me. After everything I had done for you... you just ignored me.” Angel stared at her, the guilt and confusion readable on his face. “Buffy, I’m sorry for that and I want to talk to you, too, but... how can you ask me that after what just happened? Isn’t that a little more serious?” “No!” Buffy shouted. “It’s not. It happens all the time, Angel!” Buffy felt her hands start to shake and she clenched them into fists. Her wet cheeks rubbed against her arms before she turned her face back to him. “You hurt me more than he ever could.” Angel felt a wall of guilt slam down onto him and it was all he could do to not scoot forward and attempt to relieve her pain. Instead he looked down to the bed where he noticed the First Aid Kit he had brought up for her. Silence attacked them both as they sat there. A sudden loud knock echoed in the room and Angel shot up from the bed, moving to the door quickly. “Angel? Is everything okay in there? We heard shouting.” Buffy could hear his father’s voice and she momentarily felt a strong longing to hear her father’s kind voice. Something she hadn’t heard in so long. “Yeah. It’s just the TV. I’ll turn it down.” Angel turned to look at the small blonde on his bed only to find that she was rocking back and forth, her shoulders moving in time with her sobs. She was crying. “Okay. Sleep well.” “Yeah, you too,” Angel responded absently as he quietly engaged the lock on his door. Making sure it was closed tightly, he turned back around and approached her. Neither spoke as he settled on the bed. Several minutes flew by as Buffy calmed and finally sat still in the soundless room. It was practically deafening. “Let me clean your cuts.” Buffy looked up at him to see that he had opened the First Aid Kit she had failed to notice earlier and had a cotton ball in his hand with a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide in the other. She stared at them for what seemed like forever until he took it upon himself to dip the cotton ball in the liquid and apply it to her face. She hissed and attempted to back away from his hand only to get a patient look and a gentle hand on her back. She stared at him before he repeated his actions. It hurt less as he moved on. Angel couldn’t help but let his eyes rest on the faded scar on her forehead. He remembered that day clearly. It was before this entire escapade had begun. Before Angel realized his odd feeling for the little girl before him. Time passed as he continued to clean her face and Buffy closed her eyes at his easy touch. It was if nothing had happened before and he was merely a gentle man being kind to her. He had gone from touching her gently to cupping the back of her head to hold her in place and she felt herself falling asleep as she leaned back into his hand. It would so easy to close her eyes and wish it all away. When he finally reached her lip, Buffy’s eyes snapped open and attempted to pull away once more. “Don’t. I won’t hurt you.” Buffy felt a nasty retort building in her chest before it died as he placed the cotton ball against her wound. The pain was gone in a millisecond as he washed the dried blood away. She looked at him as he added the dirty cotton ball to the small pile on his night stand. “Why are you doing this? What’s in it for you?” Angel glanced up at her. “Do I always have to have a motive?” Buffy didn’t respond for a second. “Please don’t pity me, Angel. I don’t want it.” “I’m not pitying you. I just... I don’t know.” He sighed. Buffy frowned but chose not to further the conversation. As another block of uneasy silence began to descend upon them, he asked, “Can I look at your ribs?” A week ago, Buffy would have thought of it as a sick sex joke from a stranger or a silly question from her friend. But when Angel asked her, she simply felt trepidation at the simple words. She knew that he wanted to see if they were broken - how, she didn’t know considering he wasn’t exactly a doctor - but when she thought about him seeing her skinny form... she just didn’t want to see his reaction. She simply didn’t respond. “I’m not going to do anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Angel let an amused smile form on his lips before it quickly died. “I just want to see if they’re broken... or worse.” When she still didn’t say anything, Angel pressed her back against the bed. Buffy wrapped her arms around her middle in silent protest only to have him remove them. He pulled her shirt up as best he could without touching her intimately. Tucking it underneath her breasts smoothly, he stared at her ribs. He could see every single one of them. There was a dark, multi- colored bruise already forming on her right side and he lifted his fingers to touch it gently. Buffy’s arms came up once more and Angel didn’t stop her this time. There were silent tears tracking down her face. “Buffy...” “No,” she whispered back sadly as she shoved her shirt back down. Turning her back to him, she whispered, ”Please take me to Willow’s.”
Part Nine
Willow opened the door and words couldn’t completely describe what she saw. Buffy was standing on the doorstep, leaning reluctantly on a rumpled Angel, his arm around her waist gently as she grasped at her ribs, an unusually large silk shirt around her shoulders. Buffy had initially protested the idea until she felt the unusual chill of the night before accepting Angel’s shirt. Willow noticed her face was cut and bruised as was the patches of pale flesh on her arms that the redhead could see. She looked desperately tired and defeated. Willow gasped and quickly walked forward, her arms going around Buffy’s neck as Angel released her at the last second, allowing the blonde to cling to her friend, a torn sob escaping her lips. “What happened, Buffy?... Was it your dad?” Questions ran rampant from Willow’s mouth as Buffy didn’t answer, merely crushing her face into the redhead’s shoulder. Angel stared at her sadly as Willow stared at him, noticing his eyes on her friend. He looked sad as well, his hands moving to his pockets awkwardly when he noticed her gaze. Willow ran her hand up and down her friend’s back as she fought to comfort her. “Buffy, come on, let’s go inside. Come on.” Buffy allowed the young girl to pull her into her house as she wrapped her arms around her middle. Willow glanced at Angel and he looked down before turning around, heading towards his car. Willow looked torn for a second before she closed the door and turned back to Buffy. Maybe she was wrong about him. “Oh, my God, Buffy,” Willow said urgently. Buffy didn’t respond. Willow took Buffy’s hand and proceeded to pull her towards the stairs when Xander came out of the living room, a bread roll in his hands. “Who was at the door?” he asked around the chewed bread in his mouth before his eyes fell on Buffy. He gasped and coughed as he unconsciously attempted to breath in the food before properly swallowing it. Dropping the roll in his hand, he was by her side in a second. “What happened?” When Buffy once again didn’t respond, Willow shot Xander a worried glance before pulling Buffy towards the stairs. “Let’s go upstairs and... get you cleaned up.” As they entered the green-themed bathroom upstairs, Willow pushed Xander out the door and told him to go downstairs and tell her parents that Buffy was over and that she was going to spend the time with her. She told him to not let them know what had really happened to her. After several moments of Xander’s protests and Buffy’s absent voice, he finally agreed and disappeared. Willow closed the door and turned towards Buffy where she sat on the toilet. Willow finally took the time to assess all of Buffy’s wounds. She was once more cradling her ribs and her face was swollen, her lower lip protruding farther than she had ever seen it after her father’s attacks. Buffy was staring at the floor, her fingers clasping Angel’s silk shirt in her hands desperately, hating Willow’s brief assessment of her injuries. She wondered if perhaps if would have been better to have Angel staring at her as he had been before. Both hurt the same but he had seemed to gradually become more and more used to it. Moving forward, Willow knelt before the blonde, resting on her knees as she placed her hands on the blonde’s. “Are you okay?” Buffy felt the tears rise in her throat as she shook her head. She was far from okay. She was so far that she hadn’t been able to see it for way too long. “When did this happen?” Willow asked softly, brushing a piece of her long, auburn hair behind her ear. Buffy sniffled before responding. “After I l-left school. He was... he was mad that I didn’t come home all weekend,” Buffy whispered as she spoke through the heavy burden in her throat. Willow was reluctant to ask her the next question no her mind and only did after she noticed Buffy’s shirt. “And Angel?” Buffy’s eyes shot to Willow’s before quickly descending to the floor. She bit her lip. Angel. Buffy’s confusion on his place in the entire situation was still horrible and she knew that she wanted to talk to her best friend about it, she just didn’t know how. “Buffy?” “Angel,” Buffy sighed, “... Angel was there,” she said softly, looking down at her fingers that now rested in her lap as she tore at one of her nails. Willow raised her eyebrows. “I mean, I don’t know why the hell he was there but he... he took me away from my dad.” “Angel was at your house?” Willow asked, uncertain of how to proceed with the conversation. After what Angel had done to the blonde at school earlier in the day, she wasn’t sure what to say. What do you say when your best friend appears on your doorstep in the arms of her crush, battered horribly? Buffy nodded. “Yeah. He suddenly came through the door...” Buffy swept her hand out to illustrate her words. “... and...” Buffy sniffled. “Took me.” “That’s...” Willow shrugged her shoulders as she processed the information. “... oh.” “And,” Buffy started, her voice breaking as tears threatened to spill once more. “He saw... everything, Will. He-he saw what happens to me and my dad...” Buffy began crying as she once more leaned into Willow. “... He was there and then he comforted me... like he cared... and took me to his house...” Willow stood on her knees before Buffy, cradling her against her shoulder as the blonde cried. Shushing her gently, Willow felt like crying herself. “I’m so sorry, Buffy. You don’t deserve this.”
It happened quicker than any one of them could have hoped to process. Ira Rosenberg had opened the door, not checking to see who it was who was banging on the door beforehand out of habit. It was his firm belief that nothing bad could happen. That there was no bad people in Sunnydale, whatever Willow’s blonde friend thought. That was when the door had been shoved into his face, cracking his nose in its power as the large man known as Hank Summers barged in. After that, it was a blur. He had demanded his daughter and Willow had ran downstairs to see what the commotion was about. Five minutes later, Sheila was on the phone with the police as Hank dodged out the door once more, leaving behind Ira’s bloody nose, a bruised shoulder for Willow and a throbbing headache for Sheila. Buffy came out of Willow’s room and sat at the top of the stairs, crying. The police soon arrived and Ira explained the problem rather quickly, demanding that they go out and capture the culprit. Buffy then came down and asked them what he was doing out of jail. They said he had never been in, as far as they knew. Buffy started crying as soon as she revealed what had happened to her. She left Angel out of it. The officers promised that they would find him and suggested to Buffy to press charges Buffy didn’t respond.
Angel had automatically assumed that Buffy wouldn’t be at school the next day so he wasn’t surprised to not see Willow and a quiet Xander in English. As Angel sat down, he noticed that Xander would periodically look over his shoulder to analyze him with his dark eyes. Angel would meet his gaze squarely and they exchanged words without moving their mouths. Angel was concerned. Xander was cautious and suspicious. As the day wore on, Angel found himself walking past Buffy’s locker as often as he could, compared to his avoidance of the day before. It was as if he was hoping she would suddenly be there and his concerns would be put to rest for the time being. But she never appeared. Angel continued to pay no mind to Cordelia and after hours of trying to gather his attention, she eventually left in a huff, never questioning his odd behavior. Spike was a different story and as they sat at lunch, neither spoke, but the questions in the blonde’s head were obvious to Angel but he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. After school finally ended, he drove by Willow’s house, scrutinizing the bright grass and open windows. It was obvious her mother was home, but there was no sign of either teenager. He didn’t get much sleep that night, nor did he hear about the attack by Hank. It took twice as long for him to drag himself out of bed where he showered quickly and rushed out of the house, not bothering to eat. His parents didn’t notice his changed behavior and he knew he wouldn’t have had anything to say if they had asked. As he drove to school, his heart wishing that Buffy was there while his head rationalized that she needed time to get better, he once again drove by the Rosenberg residence. Both of the cars that were usually in the driveway were absent and he briefly wondered if he would see the girls at school before dismissing it as wishful thinking. The fact that he suddenly cared so much when yesterday he had been seriously contemplating the idea of shooting her down after his supposed idiocy of Friday wasn’t lost on him. And it confused him a great deal. Just the last weekend, he had spent a lot of time thinking about the blonde, his girlfriend, and his position in school. He knew that he held his social level in the high school very high on his priorities list and that had been the major deciding factor in his earlier decision. But after what he had witnessed at Buffy’s house... It wasn’t easy to forget the instant rage and powerful protectiveness he had suddenly felt when he had entered that house, especially when he held her in his arms as he took her from her father. It also wasn’t easy to instantly forget the surge of emotion as he drove away, as he carried her, as she cried on his bed. It had honestly taken everything he could muster inside of himself to not take her into his arms and comfort her pain away. But he also knew that it wouldn’t be that easy. Buffy was the most complicated person he had ever met. She took things to heart, but built a wall around herself to protect herself against her own flaw. It wasn’t until he actually began exchanging words with her that he understood that. She was different and that was part of her appeal. But it was also part of why Angel would never had paid mind to her before. Sighing deeply at his heavy thoughts, he parked his car and grabbed his backpack from the back seat before moving to enter the school. It was directly before English that he finally passed her locker once more, Cordelia no where to be seen and Spike already in the classroom. It was when he spotted Buffy standing at her locker, Willow holding some of her books as Buffy stuffed her backpack full of binders. Xander was standing on her opposite side, looking around, his look warning people from venturing too closely. But that didn’t scare Angel off as he ignored Xander’s death glare. “Buffy.” Buffy tensed, looking over her shoulder, praying that it wasn’t who she thought it was. Her prayers went unanswered as she looked into the nicest pair of brown eyes she had ever seen. And they were full of concern. She smiled slightly before turning back to her locker. “How are you?” His question was blunt and he wanted an honest answer. Her outward appearance looked like it was designed to be an illusion. She was wearing loose white pants and a loose, long-sleeved black shirt. They were worn and the shirt looked like it had been used for painting before. Her hair was clean and remarkably shiny as he flowed down her shoulders and her face was covered in makeup. He could barely make out her bruises and scratches, but her lip was still swollen and it looked red and puffy. “I’m fine,” Buffy answered, her voice oddly scratchy, sounding as if she had screamed her throat raw and it had just began to heal or like she had spent two days crying, which seemed more obvious to him. He smiled gently. “That’s good. I’m glad... that you’re okay.” Xander almost rolled his eyes while Willow’s eyes twinkled slightly. After Hank’s sudden disappearance, she and Buffy had spent the entire day talking over the attack and Angel’s roll in it. As time passed, it seemed that Buffy had been warming up to him once more and Willow had taken the moment this time around to tell her not to get her hopes to high. She had said it nicely and it had almost caused Buffy to cry and laugh at the same time. Buffy smiled back at him. She still didn’t know what to think about him. She knew that she shouldn’t think about the situation too much. It would allow her hopes to rise once more. Finally zipping her borrowed bag shut and gently shutting her locker closed, she turned, taking her books from Willow. She looked up at the tall boy before her, wondering how he could do that to her. He smiled at her gently. She ducked her head. “I never got the chance to say thank you for what you did... I mean, it was really nice...” Buffy looked down at the floor, nervousness, embarrassment and shyness shining through her eyes. “... well, one of the nicest-“ “Angel! There you are!” The four turned to see Cordelia bound up to Angel, her face grinning, her clothes impeccable as was her makeup. Buffy looked up for a split second before looking down once more. She knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it if Cordelia said something about her. Better to leave rather than fear a breakdown. “Cordelia,” Angel replied unhappily. Allowing his eyes to rove over her skirt and tight t-shirt, he silently wondered what he had been thinking when he went out with her. She was completely unappealing now. It was if a little switch had been turned off and she was now dark and unseeable. And he had yet to break up with her. It had been Angel’s silent hopes that she would not want to be with him anymore after his ignorance the other day, but it had all been for naught. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Buffy push Willow’s shoulder in a gesture to walk towards class, Xander close behind. A desperate feeling seized him. “Buffy, don’t- “ Buffy’s head shot around as Cordelia spoke once more. “Anyway, I was hoping you could walk me to class.” Their eyes met and Buffy broke the gaze before either one of them spoke. It was obvious he was still with Cordelia. Too obvious. Cordelia noticed their locked eyes. “Angel?” she asked impatiently. “I get that you guys were talking about the project but, hello? Girlfriend here.” Angel turned back to her. “What?” Cordelia didn’t bother answering but turned her sudden wrath towards Buffy. “God, Buffy, learn how to use makeup. I can see that bruise, hello! I mean, it looks like you were decorating a cake.” Buffy’s gaze turned cold as tears rose in her eyes, her lower lip trembling. Xander turned towards the brunette as she raised a shapely eyebrow. “Are you going to cry? Jesus...” Cordelia’s eyes ran down Buffy before returning back to her face. “And can you say fashion victim?” “Cordy,” Angel snapped as a tear slid down Buffy’s cheek. “Back the fuck off.” Cordelia inhaled sharply as she stared at her boyfriend. Shock colored her features as she narrowed her gaze. “Excuse me?” “I don’t want to go out anymore, Cordelia. We’re over,” he said offhandedly before turning back to the group of friends. He smiled warmly at the wide eyed looks. “Can I walk you to class, Buffy?” Buffy barely responded before Angel reached for her hand and forced her to walk with him. Cordelia stared at his back as he walked away before turning back to the two who still stood before her. Xander quirked a grin at her sputtering and Willow shrugged helplessly before they both turned to follow. “Excuse me?” Cordelia yelled at the retreating backs, her hands on her hips. “Did you just break up with me?”
Part Ten
Buffy felt his gaze on her back throughout the entire class period and it was all she could do not to turn around and meet his eyes. It was unnerving, this sudden attention and she wanted nothing more than to divert it away from her. But there was that sliver of herself that couldn’t deny the thrill his stare gave her. Her mind was hardly on the teacher’s lecture until she directed her subject to the projects due in a couple of days. Her eyes snapped upwards. “Now, considering the gracious amount of time I have given you all for the major project that will have a large persuasion on your final grades for the semester, I hope to see some excellent presentations. I don’t want to go over the requirements again but I wanted to let you all know that I’ve mapped out the next couple of days for all the presentations. I’m going to start with volunteers and then I’ll start calling people up after we run out of those. On Wednesday, we’ll start halfway through and then continue on into Thursday and then - hopefully - we’ll be through all of you by the end of Friday. Any questions?” Willow’s hand shot up into the air and Buffy bit her lip, looking down at the blank piece of paper before her. There were some small doodles in the corners but nothing substantial as she thought. Her and Angel’s work was done. They had - or she had with Willow’s help - put together a decent presentation that would surely get them the grade they both yearned for. Biting the inside of her cheek, she looked up quickly and saw the teacher nodding to Willow as she asked her question. Her eyes darted to the bubbly redhead before she began turning her head as casually as she could manage without looking suspicious. Looking over her shoulder, Buffy caught sight of Angel dark eyes meeting hers, a half smile decorating his face as he met her gaze. Her eyes widened and he smirked as she turned around quickly. God, what is he doing? The question circled in Buffy’s mind for the last few moments of class before the loud bell rang, signaling the end of the period. Feeling a mixture of dread and anticipation fill her at what Angel’s next actions would be, she stood, gathering her book into her arms as she hooked the bag’s strap over her shoulder. Smiling briefly at Willow, she moved to follow her friends out of the room when she felt a large hand on her lower back. It rested softly and she felt a jolt race up her spine as goose bumps broke out over her skin. “Can I walk you to lunch?” Buffy turned around to face him before mutely nodding. He grinned at her quickly before pushing her forward. Buffy noted that her friends had already left the room, as had most of the students. She caught their teacher shooting them an odd glance before turning back to her computer, a group of students for her next class filing in. Buffy felt her confusion like a third presence between the two of them and she swallowed roughly as she felt his hand never leave her back, his touch light as if afraid of hurting her. His gentleness only enhanced her feeling and the overwhelming need to speak to him about whatever the hell was going on echoed in her mind. Leaving the classroom, she allowed Angel to follow her as she followed her friends in their path towards the cafeteria. As the two before them entered, Buffy suddenly paused. Angel frowned. “What’s wrong?” Buffy turned around, her arms coming up over her chest protectively as she hugged her book. “Lots of things... can I talk to you?” Willow had stopped just inside the large room and she turned in time to see the two disappearing out into the courtyard. Furrowing her brow, Willow allowed the door to slam. Her worry for her friend was palpable as she followed Xander towards the lunch line, allowing herself a small giggle as Xander pointed excitedly to the Jell-O.
“So...” Angel had instantly removed his hand from her back when Buffy had pushed through the doors to walk outside. Shoving his hands into his pockets, a million questions raced through his head as he fought to come up with something to say. But there was nothing. “Um...” “I have your shirt,” Buffy said bluntly, her eyes never leaving the ground. “I mean, it’s in my locker... I think... if you want it right now...” Buffy moved to walk back inside when Angel’s hand snatched out to grab her arm. She looked back over at him. “No. It’s okay... I don’t - exactly - need it right now.” Buffy nodded before gently shrugging her arm out of his grasp. He let his hand fall to his side. Sliding her bag from her shoulder, she tossed it with her book to the ground before hugging herself. Angel did the same, allowing his fingers to tangle before him as he fought for words and she pushed herself through the tangle of confusion that was woven around her. “Listen-“ “What is this?” Buffy asked suddenly, her eyes attached to a lone leaf on the ground, her brow furrowing. “I mean, you come up to me and you’re all... different, and... well, I...” Buffy breathed in deeply. “I just want to know if you’re fucking with me. If you’re... messing with my head again...” Buffy’s gaze snapped to his face and Angel raised his eyebrows. “Buffy, I’m not fucking with you... or messing with your head. I don’t want to do that, I just... I mean... dammit!” Angel sighed loudly, running his hand through his hair. “You have to understand where I’m coming from because I can’t seem to get it. I mean, it’s like, bam! Suddenly here I am, falling for this girl that I’ve never thought twice about and then I’m at your house and seeing the fucked up shit that you have to live with and... it’s a little bit more than I thought I would have to deal with as a teenager.” Buffy smirked at him, hiding her reaction to his words as best she could.. “Yeah... welcome to my world.” Looking down to the ground once more, she crossed her arms over her chest. “So... do you-“ “Yes,” Angel interrupted, coming up closer to her. “I mean everything I say... about us. I know I was a jackass for what I did to you on Monday, but I wasn’t exactly prepared for what happened. And when I saw what your father was doing to you...” Angel took a deep breath and watched as Buffy’s eyes darkened. “I knew that I didn’t want to lose you.” “Angel,” Buffy said softly, her eyes softening as her mind whirled. “I... I can’t do this... if you’re... joking with me or something...” Buffy licked her lips. “Well, let’s just say the consequences would be dire.” Angel furrowed his brow. “What is-“ “My dad paid a little visit to Willow’s on Monday,” Buffy said, her voice full of pain. “He broke her dad’s nose and bruised Willow’s shoulder... he hurt them... God, but the things he said...” “Your dad?” “Yeah,” Buffy said, her voice full of mocking anger. “I thought you said he was in jail.” “I... I thought he was... I mean... I called...” “Angel... he was mad... really, really mad. Not just with me.” Buffy looked up into his eyes, hers wide and her eyes darting between his. “He’s not happy with what you did.” Angel narrowed his eyes. “Why? What did he say?” Buffy furrowed her brow before swallowing and looking away. “Stuff. He said... stuff. But... he was mad, okay? Really, really mad and that’s all you need to know.” Looking back at him, she spoke once more, “So that’s why I need you to stay away from me. I’ll go get your shirt and you can get out of here, okay? Away from me.” Angel could see the stalled tears in her eyes and he felt a protective swell building in his chest. He shook his head vehemently. “Bullshit. I’m not going anywhere.” “Are you deaf? Something bad will happen if you keep staying with me... around me...” Buffy shook her head. “You don’t know what he’s really capable of.” Angel looked down at her, his eyes digging into hers. “Then why all the questions about what I’m feeling?” “Is it a crime to feel insecure now?” Buffy demanded, stepping back from him. He stared at her. “I’m not the greatest person here, Angel, okay? So back the fuck off and get the hell out of here.” “I’m not going anywhere, Buffy. You can’t just expect me to run off right now.” “Why the hell not? You would have a couple of days ago.” “Yeah, well, things change... things that make a person change.” Angel stepped towards her once more. “Don’t push me away, Buffy. Don’t.” “Or what? You’ll spread some nasty rumors about me? You’ll go fuck your skanky ho? Tell me, Angel, what will you do if I ‘push you away’?” she asked mockingly. “Why are acting like such a bitch?” Angel demanded, his voice growing louder, causing some of the lingering students to turn their heads in their direction. “Why can’t you act like a normal human being, Buffy?” “Because I’m not! I’m not normal, Angel. I don’t go to the mall every Friday... I don’t paint my stupid toenails pink... I don’t spend endless nights sitting on the phone talking with guys... I’m not normal... The last time I was even close to being a normal human being was when my father wasn’t hitting me every time I stepped on the wrong piece of carpet... every time I said no...” Tears welled in Buffy’s eyes and she glared at him. “... every time I came home late or even said his name wrong...” Angel reached his arms out to pull her against his chest but she pushed back. “Don’t. I don’t want your fucking pity, okay? I want you to get the hell away from me... now.” Angel shook his head, his eyes narrowing once more. “I can’t do that.” “Yes... yes you can. It’s really simple... really... watch... I’ll do it for you.” Bending down to grab the things she had thrown down, she straightened and turned around, walking back towards the school. Angel followed suit, grabbing his back pack and following her in, catching up easily with his long strides. Buffy stopped immediately on the steps leading to the door that would take her inside. She whirled on him. “Go. Away.” “No,” Angel said defiantly. “You can’t just say jump and I immediately ask how high, Buffy. That’s not how it works with me.” “Well, it should be, dammit, okay?” “What did your dad say that would make you want this to happen?” “Whose to say that this isn’t what I really want?” Buffy demanded, dropping her book and bag on the stone steps. “Why can’t I just want you to go away?” “Because you wouldn’t have kissed me back if this isn’t what you wanted,” Angel said in a low voice and Buffy felt all her anger and pain and icy attitude immediately deflate as more tears began to cloud her vision. She shook her head. “No.” “Yes,” Angel replied, stepping forward, dropping his bag to the ground again. “Please don’t push me away, Buffy. Not now.” “What about tomorrow?” Buffy asked bitterly. “Whose to say that you won’t just up and leave me when Cordelia walks in with a short skirt and a see-through shirt?” “You have my word, Buffy,” Angel said softly, his hand coming out to touch her cheek. “You have my word that that won’t happen, okay?” Buffy looked up in his eyes, her heart welling in her chest at the prospect of him by her side while her mind forced the possible scenarios of her decision through her head. She unconsciously shook her head as she thought before sinking down to the steps. A sob escaped her lips as Angel sat down next to her, awkwardly wrapping his arm around her shoulders, afraid of her reaction. His posture relaxed as she turned into his embrace, curling her fingers in his shirt. Kissing the top of her head softly, Angel leaned his cheek against her head, her arms wrapped around her protectively as she allowed him, burrowing her head against his shoulder.
Cold eyes stared at the couple on the steps, a burning cigarette in his callous fingers, dried blood still etched in his skin. Bringing the small stick to his cracked lips, he narrowed his eyes as the man kissed his little girl on the top of the head. He watched as she burrowed even closer to him. That was the little fucker who took her from him. The damn bastard whom stole his baby away. Whoever the fuck he thought he was... squeezing the cigarette in his fingers, he let it drop into his fist before clenching his fingers around it, allowing the burning tip to singe his skin. Clenching his jaw, he watched as they finally stood. The young boy grabbed both of their bags and her book as they entered the school. He would pay for ever thinking he could touch her. She would pay for ever thinking she could get away.
l be kind, rewind l back to top l
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