Willow shivered slightly as she stood beside Giles outside the Summers’ house on Revello Dr. It wasn’t that it was cold; the coming summer had already made midday very warm. It was a sense of premonition and nervousness that made Willow rub her arms against a chill.
This just felt very strange. She had barely spoken to her best friend since classes had ended and they’d both gone to live with their parents for the summer. Now she was standing outside her house, both happy and petrified. She just had this sense of terrible things to come. She couldn’t explain it.
Giles knocked on the door firmly. Willow hung back on the front steps until Giles gestured for her to join him and the door opened. Mrs. Summers peeked around the door for a moment, then flung it wide to greet them.
In that moment Willow could have sworn she looked tired and much older than usual. It was replaced so quickly with a warm, welcoming smile, though, that Willow wondered if she’d seen that at all. “Come in!” Mrs. Summers said brightly, holding the door open for the both of them. She ushered them into the house, looking pleased. “How are you both? Would you like something to drink?”
Giles shook his head firmly. “We need to speak to Buffy. Is she here?”
Joyce’s smile slipped. “Has something happened?” she asked, concerned.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Giles replied seriously.
Mrs. Summers nodded, her expression the epitome of ‘concerned mother.’ “Please, if you have any idea…” she hesitated for a moment, as if she was uncertain whether she should say what she wanted to say next. “Perhaps…she needs a vacation. I’ve thought about having her spend the summer with her father, but…”
Willow expected Giles to dismiss the notion out of hand on account of demons and all, but he surprised her. “That may be exactly what she needs: some time away from the Hellmouth. I could mention it to her if you like.”
Mrs. Summers smiled in relief. “She’s in her bedroom, cleaning,” she said finally.
Willow smiled gratefully and followed Giles up the stairs towards Buffy’s bedroom. The door was open and Buffy was not cleaning. Instead she was sitting on the bed, staring out the window. From the tension in her posture Willow was glad she couldn’t see Buffy’s face.
Giles knocked on the doorframe to get her attention. She turned to see them and in the moment before she plastered on a false smile Willow caught a glimpse of a soul-deep despair in her eyes. Then her gaze went blank and she gave them a smile that never reached her eyes.
“Hey,” she said with forced gaiety. She jumped to her feet. “What’s up? Demon? Vampire? New baddie bent on taking over the world?”
Both Willow and Giles hesitated. Willow shifted on her feet and Giles took off his glasses in a nervous gesture. “None of the above…or, well…vampire, I guess…” Giles began.
“What is it, Giles?” Buffy said, seeming amused by his discomfiture.
“We need to talk with you about Angel,” Giles said abruptly.
Buffy turned away from them, suddenly busying herself in the task of organizing her desktop. “What about Angel? He’s dead. End of story.”
That wasn’t always the end of story in Sunnydale, though. “This is important, Buffy. You must tell us what happened.”
“What’s to tell?” Buffy said, still not looking at them. “Vampire meets sunlight, vampire is dust. End of tale.” She was nearly pacing as she rearranged her things. It was making Willow dizzy.
“Buffy,” Willow started to say softly, but she wasn’t heard. Giles got right in the Slayer’s face and said in his sternest authority voice, “Sit down.”
Buffy sat on the bed like her strings had been cut. She stared at them, her eyes wide and panicked. She looked like a trapped animal. Giles softened and knelt in front of her sympathetically. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I know you don’t want to talk about what happened. But we need to know, and I think you need to face it. Put the past where it belongs – behind us – so we can move forward.”
“The past where it belongs?” Buffy asked faintly, devoid of emotion.
Giles flinched slightly. “Yes, well… Perhaps you should start from the beginning. What happened when you first went to see Angel?”
“He…he…” She seemed flustered. Real emotion seemed buried just beneath the surface. “I can’t!” she suddenly cried out. She shook slightly.
“You have to,” Giles urged.
Willow saw in Buffy’s eyes that she was shutting down again, building walls between herself and her emotions. Willow sat beside her friend and clasped her hand. “Buffy,” she said softly, “when you came back from L.A. you had a bruised lip. Did the police do that? Or Faith?”
Buffy shook her head. “Angel,” she said flatly.
“Angel hit you?!” Willow asked in surprise.
“I hit him first,” Buffy said so quietly she could barely be heard.
Willow looked at her in shock. “What…what…?”
Buffy spoke again, very quiet and her voice emotionless. “I got to Angel’s apartment alright. I went downstairs to see him. He was with Faith – she was crying, her hands covered with blood, and he was holding her.”
Willow tried to stifle a gasp. Buffy had always had doubts when it came to Angel and Faith together. Seeing him holding Faith right after everything she’d done to Buffy must have been shattering. Willow squeezed Buffy’s hand slightly.
She didn’t even acknowledge it, but continued describing events weeks past coldly. “I was angry,” she said. “I yelled. He told Faith to go upstairs. I tried to go after her, but he stopped me. I hit him. He hit me back.”
She fell silent for a moment. “What happened then?” Giles prodded gently.
Buffy stared out the window as she continued to speak. “We yelled at each other for a while. I couldn’t believe he actually hit me. Then…” She looked confused. “It all happened so fast after that!”
“What did?”
“The fighting. Those Watcher goons came out of nowhere to kill Faith this time. They didn’t care who got in the way – they were shooting up the whole place. Faith and I ended up on the roof with a helicopter shooting at us.”
Her face softened slightly as she continued. “Angel jumped onto the helicopter and forced it to land. The police were waiting for him on the ground. He was arrested – aiding a felon. Faith disappeared somewhere in the shuffle.
“Cordelia, Wesley, and I went to the police station, too.” Buffy’s formerly empty eyes suddenly hinted at a buried anger. “One of the cops knew what Angel was. She said she was going to put him in a cell where he could see the sunrise.” Her gaze darkened. “I was shocked that she could so coldly murder him. She’s supposed to be a cop – protect people, not kill them. When I started to argue with her Angel said I was nothing and let her lead him away.
“I couldn’t let her,” Buffy said, her voice clearer now with a hint of sadness sneaking in. “So I fought. I tried to tear my way through the station to get to him. The whole time, though, he just let them take him. I couldn’t get to him without killing someone, and a group of the police carried me out of the station.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek unnoticed. “I tried to find another way in. When I couldn’t, I decided to climb the eastern side of the building, find his cell, and break the bars if necessary to free him. It took all of my strength to reach him, and by the time I did it was almost sunrise.
“I found Angel sitting on the bed in his cell, staring out the window. I couldn’t tear out the bars and stay on the wall; I tried but I couldn’t. I begged Angel to get up, to help me, to break free. He simply looked at me, though. His eyes were so sad and he just said ‘I’m sorry.’ That’s it.” Her own posture – sitting on her bed, staring out the window, her eyes clouded with despair – was an eerie reflection of the tale she was telling. Her breath hitched in a half sob. “He was still sitting there when the sun rose just minutes later.” She let out another sob, and a second tear joined the first. “He just let the sun come,” she whispered, and then seemed to collapse in on herself, finally truly crying.
Willow held her best friend as he shook with sobs. How horrible! None of them had realized that Buffy had seen Angel die. Willow had seen a vampire die by sunlight before; it was a horrible, violent death. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Buffy to see Angel die like that.
“Shhh,” she whispered, rubbing Buffy’s back. “It’ll be okay.”
Buffy blinked at her through her tears. “The last conversation I had with him,” she barely managed to get out between sobs, “I yelled at him. I hit him. I didn’t listen to him. And then he says ‘I’m sorry.’ Why? Why should he be sorry?”
Willow didn’t answer, for she knew that Buffy knew the answer as well as she did. Angel always blamed himself, no matter how little control he had over events. That was something they’d always known about him.
He wasn’t too unlike Buffy in that respect.
After a while the sobs quieted but the tears still flowed. Bleary eyed, Buffy said, “Do you think if we hadn’t fought he would have tried to stay alive?”
Willow shook her head in dismay. “You can’t ask yourself things like that,” she said softly, “there’s no way to know.”
“You mustn’t blame yourself, Buffy,” Giles added.
“I know,” Buffy replied in a chocked whisper. “I just can’t help it.” The Slayer looked absolutely pathetic, her strength gone once her tears had run dry. Willow knew that no amount of comforting she could do would make her friend strong again.
Giles seemed to see that as well. “I don’t think you should be slaying for a while,” he said slowly.
Buffy looked up at him in surprise. “Why? I can take care of myself.”
“I’m not so sure about that, Buffy,” he said. Before Buffy could get offended, Giles continued. “Your mother suggested that you take a vacation.”
Buffy let out a harsh laugh. “Vacation? Slayers don’t take vacations.”
“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” Giles said with a slight smile.
Buffy couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly in response. She sat up a little straighter and wiped the last of the tears from her eyes. “So, um, vacation?”
“Your mother suggested that you spend the summer with your father.”
The little bit of humor disappeared from her face. “My father?” she said in a strangled voice. “In L.A?”
Willow suddenly understood why Giles was so quick to agree that Buffy should leave town. Right now, she was needed in L.A. She just didn’t know it yet.
“Yes,” Giles said in response to Buffy’s question. “I know it’s hard…”
“Sorry, Giles, but you couldn’t possible know,” Buffy retorted.
“Still, it’ll be best for everyone if you visit your father, at least for a little while. It will give you some time to…recover.”
For a moment Buffy said nothing, just sat on her bed staring out the window once again. “It has been a long time since I spent time with Dad,” she conceded.
That settled it, and fifteen minutes later Giles and Willow were standing on the front steps again. Buffy had already begun packing. Her eyes were pained, but at least they held emotion now. Already she seemed to have found a bit of her old self.
Still, Willow was confused and doubtful. Something very important had been left out of their conversation. She looked at Giles oddly. “Why didn’t you tell her that Angel’s alive?”
For a couple of moments Giles said nothing as they walked down the street. Willow stared at him in shock, wondering if he was going to answer at all. He didn’t disappoint her. “She’s much too confused at the moment, Willow. Her emotions are a complete mess. Who knows what telling her that on top of everything else might do?”
“It might make her happy again. She’d go to him…”
Giles shook his head. “Or it might make her avoid him all together. You saw how guilty she’s feeling right now.
“But…if she doesn’t know…how can she help him?”
Giles smiled. “That is where destiny takes a hand.”
They walked a little while more without saying anything. Finally Willow could stand it no longer. “Giles?”
“Yes?”
“How could Angel be alive?” she asked. “Buffy saw him turn to dust.”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
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