Buffy was at a threshold. It was both mental and literal and it scared her to death. There was a door in front of her, a very real door, and behind it was pain and sadness. Behind it was a past she had yet to deal with.
She reached towards the door handle, then stopped herself, trembling slightly. Could she do this? She remembered Giles’ words about putting her past behind her, and knew that she had to. Could she, though? Was she ready?
Putting the past behind her was a frightening concept. It meant going through a lot of pain that she’d buried inside herself. It also meant fully ending one chapter of her life. It meant saying goodbye.
Buffy hated the word “goodbye” now. She supposed that was in part because he had never said it to her, and she had never said it back. In some ways, that had left a little bit of hope, if not that they might someday be together, but that they would at least see each other again. Now, that wasn’t going to happen. Buffy didn’t know that she was ready to say goodbye to Angel.
Behind this door was an ending…. Behind this door was a first step to a new beginning.
Behind this door were friends.
Well, sort of….
Buffy opened the door.
The interior of Angel Investigations was dark as usual, the blinds pulled completely shut. It was dead silent inside, and Buffy shivered. She was not surprised to find it like this. What else could she have expected? She was surprised, though, to find the door open. It was as if any minute business would continue here as usual.
The elevator suddenly started and Buffy jumped. For a second she wondered if she was really hearing it at all, or if it was merely a ghost of her memory. If she was just imagining it, then Angel would step from the elevator and look at her in surprise, then smile slightly at her like he used to. If she imagined hard enough she could even believe that she felt him nearby, just like she always used to.
It was amazing what the imagination could do.
The door to the elevator opened with a clatter, and Buffy was somewhat surprised to see Cordelia emerge. She gave a bright and oddly relieved smile upon seeing Buffy.
“Thank God you’re here!” Cordelia said, and Buffy got the impression that she could have received a hug as well. It baffled her, to say the least. She’d hardly expected to be welcome here, let alone this welcome.
“Cordelia?” she asked. “What…?”
“What took you so long!?” Cordelia demanded suddenly.
“So long? I…”
“I mean, I spoke to Giles almost a week ago! I thought you’d come running right down here and…”
“What are you talking about?!” Buffy yelled, seeing Cordelia wasn’t going to let her get a word in.
Cordelia’s torrent of words stopped abruptly and her smile changed into a scowl. “Giles didn’t tell you?” she asked finally.
“Tell me what?!” Buffy demanded in frustration.
Cordelia did not answer her. Instead she asked a question of her own. “Why are you here then?”
Buffy sighed. “I’m trying to… I don’t know, exactly. Maybe I just wanted…to say goodbye?” Her heart was in her throat at the thought.
Cordelia looked at her warily. “That’s it? You think you can do that? Because I’m not going to let you forget the mess you caused the last time you were here.”
Buffy cringed at her words. “I won’t forget,” she whispered. As if she could…
Cordelia looked at her sympathetically for a moment, then her expression went stern once again. “Good,” she said strongly.
Buffy did not move from where she stood, and neither did Cordelia. They just stared each other down for a moment. Each refused to be intimidated by the other.
Finally Cordelia sighed. “You know if we didn’t need you I’d be kicking you out right now.”
“I know,” Buffy said, not moving.
Neither said anything for another moment. Buffy waited impatiently, but Cordelia apparently wasn’t going to give her what she wanted. “What do you need me for?” she prompted.
Cordelia looked at her a second longer. “Giles didn’t tell you anything?”
Buffy shrugged. “Aside from ‘go on vacation, Buffy, and have a nice trip’? No, not a thing.”
Still Cordelia hesitated for a moment.
“Cordelia, please!”
“I’m thinking!” the ex-cheerleader snapped. She shook her head then. “It’s easier if I show you,” she said.
“Then show me,” Buffy said, trying her hardest to be patient.
Cordelia said nothing more for the moment and walked back towards the elevator. After a moment Buffy followed her. Cordelia waited until Buffy was in the elevator with her, then closed the gate and made the elevator descend.
Buffy was shaking, her throat tight with potential tears, as they descended into Angel’s apartment. She wondered if it still looked like she remembered, or if Cordelia and Wesley had started to pack up Angel’s things. She wasn’t sure which concept frightened her more.
The first thing Buffy was aware of downstairs was Wesley’s voice. Actually, she could hear him over the machinery of the elevator before it came to a complete stop.
“Hold still,” he was saying in his stuffy, British voice. He sounded even more annoyed than usual. “I’ll never get done here if you don’t hold still!”
The elevator came to sudden rest, and Cordelia pulled back the door. She shot Buffy a look that said ‘do you see what I have to put up with?’ and gestured Buffy into the apartment.
The apartment had not changed a bit, and Buffy felt her stomach tie itself into knots. Something was strange here…she felt something else…
“You’re already healing too slowly!” Wesley’s voice came from out of sight. “If you don’t let me put these bandages on… Come back here!”
Buffy did not have to wait much longer to find out who the ex-Watcher was yelling at. A moment later the reluctant patient emerged from Angel’s bedroom, and Buffy gasped. He was shirtless, his chest partially bandaged. He couldn’t be here, this achingly familiar face…one she knew and loved. She’d spent the last 2 weeks mourning him, and yet…
“Buffy?” he asked in that half question she knew so well, his voice barely above a whisper.
She could not help but respond in kind. “Angel?”
His response surprised her, though. Instead of smiling, or extending words of greeting, he simply nodded as if that confirmed something and stood there, looking at her.
“What?” Buffy asked, far too confused to ask the full question that plagued her. ‘What the hell’s going on here?’ might have been closer.
Cordelia put a hand on her shoulder, and Buffy looked at her to find her smiling slightly. “It’s all right,” Cordelia whispered. “Actually, that’s far more recognition than he’s shown anyone else. He knows your name.” She shrugged.
“I… I don’t understand,” Buffy said finally, all the while aware that Angel was still watching her.
Cordelia sighed. “Angel,” she said firmly, “go back and let Wesley finish bandaging your wounds, okay?” She looked back at Buffy. “It’s like talking to a three year old sometimes,” she muttered. Still, Angel hadn’t moved. “Go on!”
“But…” Angel began, his eyes locked with Buffy’s.
“I’ll come,” Buffy said. He did not smile, but headed back to his room, expecting her to follow. She looked back at Cordelia for a second before she did so. “Let me guess,” she said briefly. “Some form of amnesia?” Either that or brain damage, and she really didn’t want to think about that.
Cordelia nodded. “He doesn’t remember…well, anything,” she said. “Contrary to this little display, he normally acts his physical age at least. So Wesley doesn’t think he’s…impaired or anything.”
Buffy nodded, taking comfort in that small fact. “You can tell me the rest in a minute,” she said. She did not wait for a response, but walked into Angel’s room, following him as she had promised.
He was sitting on the bed when she came in. Wesley was sitting in the chair next to him, apparently trying to reapply the bandage on his chest with little success. It got messed up again as Angel turned at her entrance, his gaze immediately catching her own. Wesley gave a little sigh of defeat looking at the ruined tape and sat back in his chair.
Buffy broke eye contact with Angel for a moment to look at Wesley. “I’ll take care of it,” she said. Wesley nodded and relinquished the chair with some relief and left the two of them alone in the room.
Once he was gone Buffy walked around the bed to pick up the first aid kit he’d been using. Instead of taking a seat in the chair, though, she sat beside him on the bed. For a moment she did nothing and said nothing, uncertain of what her welcome would be. She didn’t know how to deal with him anymore, and that scared her. Things had been so terrible the last time they had spoken. And then…his death… Where did she even begin to deal with this?
Maybe she should begin by making this right.
Buffy licked her lips nervously. “Let me,” she whispered, reaching with hesitant fingers for the partially secure gauze on his chest.
He did not flinch away like she expected him to, but rather leaned forward to help her. The movement caused Buffy’s hand to come into full contact with the skin of Angel’s chest, and she gasped once again. His skin was warm. Her hand pressed there like that, and she could not help but feel the faint movement of his heartbeat. She watched her hand move with each of his breaths in fascination.
“Buffy?” he asked suddenly, drawing her attention with a concerned whisper. She looked up into his familiar gaze. “Are you alright?”
Buffy shook herself out of her shock as best she could. Cordelia had said he didn’t remember anything. Apparently he did not understand, then, what had startled her so. “I’m alright,” she said quickly and reached for the roll of medical tape. She tried to ignore the fact that her hand was on his naked skin, someplace it hadn’t been in a long time. Instead she busied herself with getting the bandage positioned correctly. She looked at what she was covering up and flinched slightly. Someone had cut into his chest the outline of a bird, its wings outspread. The shallower cuts had already healed to angry red scars. Scabs remained in some of the deeper places, and Buffy’s chest hurt in sympathy. “What happened?” she whispered, partially to herself. “Who did this to you?”
“Don’t remember,” Angel said, then yawned.
Buffy tried to give him a sympathetic smile, but was sure she failed. “I’m sorry,” she said. Gently she replaced the last of the bandages in silence.
When she was done he continued to stare at her for a long moment. She wondered what it was he was looking for. Then he yawned again.
“Rest,” Buffy said simply, placing a hand on his.
He looked at her in concern. “And you?” he asked, grasping her hand.
“I need to talk to Wesley and Cordelia,” she explained. “I won’t be far. And I promise I’ll come back.”
Angel nodded and released her.
Buffy did not release the breath she’d been unaware she was holding until she had left the room. She sighed wearily and flopped down on the couch next to Cordelia. Those few minutes had been far more tiring than she thought. “He’s alive,” Buffy whispered after a moment.
Cordelia and Wesley nodded.
“No,” Buffy said in a strong, clear voice. “I mean, he’s alive!”
Again the two of them nodded.
“How?” Buffy asked in a strangled voice. Her head was spinning; she couldn’t think of any sort of explanation for any of this.
Wesley sighed. “We don’t know,” he said. “Three days after he …died… a group of good demons picked him up off the street like this.”
“Not exactly like this,” Cordelia clarified. “For the first day he was incoherent…and spent most of the time unconscious. A couple of days after that he didn’t say a word. Now…”
“He’s been…a bit more himself every day,” Wesley explained. “He still has no memories, though. From what Cordelia said, you are the first person he has recognized.”
That reassured Buffy, but only slightly. Maybe, even after everything she had done to him, they still had some sort of connection. “You said he doesn’t remember anything?” Buffy asked again. At Cordelia’s nod she added, “About vampires or anything?”
“That’s part of what worries me,” Wesley said. “Since he is alive…human…even his own physical self can’t help trigger any memories. He…feels different, or so I would imagine.”
“So you have no clue how to get his memories back?”
Neither Cordelia nor Wesley responded for a moment.
“Guys?”
It was Wesley who spoke once again. “Giles found a prophecy. The key to Angel’s memories…”
“Yes?”
“It’s you, Buffy.”
Buffy swallowed hard. She was the key to his memories? She didn’t know…she didn’t understand… “I see,” she said softly. She stood. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she began to walk towards the stairs.
“That’s it!?” Cordelia yelled, springing up from the couch and grabbing her arm. “You’re just going to walk away? I was right; you never did care about him like he cared for you.”
“I am not walking away,” Buffy said angrily, tearing her arm from Cordelia’s grasp. “And don’t you dare say I never cared for him! I did! I loved him!”
Cordelia looked at her, her eyes filled with barely suppressed fury. “And now?”
“I don’t know,” Buffy said honestly. “It’s … been a year, Cordelia. And I tried to get over him…like he wanted me to. I had a boyfriend…like he wanted me to. But don’t think I don’t still care about him, because I do. And I always will.”
“The why are you leaving?”
“Because my dad is expecting me for dinner,” Buffy began to explain. “Because I need some fresh air. Because this is all too overwhelming for me to take in at the moment. But don’t doubt that I’ll be back. I will be back.”
“Why should I trust you?” Cordelia asked coldly.
Buffy did not look at her, but rather looked past her at the door to Angel’s room. “Because I promised him,” was all she said.
Feedback
shouldn't be hunted for - it should be easy to find
Back
to Cynamin's Fan Fiction