All of Me
By Jeannine Trevizo
The potentials were in
bed, having been drained by another day of tricks and scams by The First and
Faith’s entrance. Buffy Summers sighed as she dropped down
on the steps of her back porch, looking out onto the darkness enveloping Sunnydale.
She never thought that
she’d be overjoyed and relieved to see the prodigal Slayer. But another Slayer
was something The First wasn’t expecting, and perhaps between the two of them,
and the rest of the potentials and the team, some of them could actually
survive.
However, she wasn’t sure
is winning was an option. Survival through was the focus. She was responsible
for so many now, the Scoobies, Wood, the potentials, Spike...
It was so much, maybe too much. But she had no choice.
The choice had been made
for her all those years ago when she’d been Called, rather than someone else.
When she’d come to Sunnydale, the Hellmouth.
When she’d been brought back not once, but twice to keep
fighting.
Just
like she continued to fight tonight.
Her patrol had gone well.
There wasn’t much out there truthfully. Other than what The First was sending
after them. The real problem was that it seemed like this
was just practice for what was still to come.
Shifting her weight, she
turned to note the front door opening and Faith coming in from her own patrol.
Buffy heard the steps creak as her sister Slayer went up the steps to the room
they were now both sharing. It seemed only appropriate, since they shared the
same powers and responsibility again.
Turning back to the
darkness of the grass and tree covered yard, Buffy took note of the boom box
someone had left out on the patio. Obviously they had brought it out for the
last workout session and not taken it back.
Why the hell did Giles have to let the girls bring the damn radio out
here anyway, she thought bitterly.
Reaching for it, she
ended up hitting the power button rather than catching the handle. Sound
blasted from it, luckily not loud enough to wake the neighbors or even the
occupants inside, but it was enough to freeze Buffy in her tracks.
Soft, soulful words
poured from the speakers, nailing her in place and wrapping around her battered
heart, hitting her in the one place that still was wounded, and had never
healed.
//I’m so tired of being
here
suppressed by all of my childish fears
and if you have to leave
I wish that you would
just leave
because your presence still lingers here
and it won't leave me alone//
Her eyes burned. Damn,
she thought, why is it that she could never move on? Would she always be
haunted by the man she loved forever, above all others? She’d spent so many
hours, days, years waiting for the day when the
simplest of things wouldn’t remind her of him.
She was still waiting for
that day.
Of course, there were too
many memories in the house, in Sunnydale that kept
her from escaping him.
//these wounds won't seem
to heal
this pain is just too real
there's just too much that time cannot erase//
When Faith had walked in
the door with
The idea of Faith being
able to be near him and not her tore at her. Why was it that what everyone else
could have what she was always denied. Darla and Faith and Cordy
all could be near him, but she couldn’t. The one who loved
him more than her own life.
Yet he had left her and
hurt her and let her die alone and she still loved him. Still tossed and turned
on her double bed for weeks and months after her return because she was alone
again. Heaven had been completion. Heaven had been like being with him. Coming
back to the world she only felt emptiness – an empty bed, empty arms and an
empty heart.
She never was going to be
able to not need him. It was times like now she realized that she was never
going to be free.
//when you cried I’d wipe
away all of your tears
when you'd scream I’d fight away all of your fears
and I’ve held your hand through all of these years//
They could have fought,
they could have tried. Somehow, some prophecy still to be uncovered, a spell
Will could have unearthed, they could have made it work, fixed the loophole.
Force him to accept that he was worthy of being happy.
Instead he had put as
much distance between them as he could. Had tried to give up, kill himself, and her in the process. He had never understood
that his worth was directly connected to her desire to fight. To stay alive.
But after everything, the
blood, the pain, the sacrifices, he still left in the smoke and the dark.
//but you still have all
of me//
And he had taken part of
her soul him.
That was what had kept
her from moving on. She was incomplete, her heart and body ached daily they
tried to compensate for the hole in her self that made it harder to care. Made it easier to give up. Day after day, year after year, though
Riley, her mom’s death, Glory and Dawn, heaven and Spike and everything, that
missing part of her still left a gaping, open tear in her self that made her
think that going down swinging against The First might be her best shot at getting
all of her back again.
Maybe dying again would
free her from the pain that still suffused her being and gnawed at her purpose.
Made her do what she hated just to survive.
//you used to captivate
me
by your resonating light
but now I’m bound by the life you left behind
your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
your voice it chased away all the sanity in me//
God, Spike had been a
huge mistake. The depths of her self-loathing had known no bounds. It was just
impossible for her to wrap her mind around it. Even now, she could still
remember the gaping nothingness that was herself the months after her
resurrection.
She was so desperate for
something to fill that hole, she had refused to accept
the thought that the true reason for it was miles away and trying to continue
to stay true to his word. To give her the chance to live her
life in the light.
And no matter how many
times she had begged and pleaded, screamed and yelled to convince him, he could
never believe that her light, her sanctuary, her home was him. He was
determined that they were best kept apart. No matter how much she needed the
part of her soul back that had left with him.
So she had taken any
understanding, any comfort where she could. She had turned to Spike and let
herself fall deeper into the despair that consumed her. That had been eating
away at her since graduation.
//these wounds won't seem
to heal
this pain is just too real
there's just too much that time cannot erase//
Rubbing her tired eyes, she
noted that the stinging had eased, and the reason became obvious as wetness
dampened her fingertips. Silent tears coated her cheeks, releasing the pain
inside that she refused to let anyone, even herself see as her soul tried to
scream out its pain and anguish.
Now, with all her excuses
stripped away and the end so potentially near, there was nowhere left to hide,
nowhere to run to escape the truth.
//when you cried I’d wipe
away all of your tears
when you'd scream I’d fight away all of your fears
and I’ve held your hand through all of these years
but you still have all of me//
She had needed him all
this time. No matter how much things had changed, no matter how they had grown
apart, there was still too much of her that wasn’t here with her, because it
was with him.
//I’ve tried so hard to
tell myself that you're gone
but though you're still with me//
Buffy glanced at the deep
blackness that had turned the trees into shadows and the grass to blood and
felt the hole she’d fought to fill, to bury under everything, anything else,
gape even more within her as the last of her illusions were ripped away. It
left her with the final conclusion that she had done everything but face.
He wasn’t here, and he
wasn’t coming back and she was damned because she couldn’t let him go.
She had been afraid of
this moment, because she didn’t know what she would do or what it would mean
when she could no longer feel even a little sense of him somewhere in the
world. Somewhere inside of her.
Doing her best not to let
out a bitter laugh, Buffy let herself finally understand that even with her
desire to hold him to her, keep his love, his soul with her that for the last
four years she had been truly, utterly...
//I’ve been alone all
along//
“Yup Buffy,
that’s you all right,” she muttered to the radio and the air and the heavens
that she’d been drug out of. “And that’s a Slayer’s life. You live alone, fight
alone, die alone. It’s always been like that, you just
never wanted to admit it.”
With that she let herself
sag to the patio floor, her body unwilling or unable to hold her up anymore as
the finality of her words seeped into her.
Suddenly a voice came
from behind her, freezing her in place with its familiar tone and affection as
it said quietly, “You’re never alone.”
Her breathing picked up,
her emotions at war with her head. Panic and fear mixed with hope and desire.
Maybe, she thought with a pang of anxiousness. She couldn’t turn, couldn’t
disappoint herself with the empty space she knew would be there.
So she found that part of
her that she’d closed off because she couldn’t handle the pain and reached out
with her soul for the tingle, the connection that was always just out of reach.
That was miles down the coast and wasn’t where she needed it to be.
But instead of the dull,
faint feel of something, a twisting, solid connection rocked her body, nearly
making her shake, sending her head into her hands as she bent forward into a
ball on the porch step.
“Angel?” she whispered
into her body in her usual tone, her voice rusty as the familiar but unused
word passed her lips.
//when you cried I’d wipe
away all of your tears
when you'd scream I’d fight away all of your fears
and I’ve held your hand through all of these years//
The presence behind her
moved, and she uncurled a bit to focus better. She realized he was coming from
inside the house and had stood in the open kitchen doorframe. Like the cloud of
smoke he’d left in all those years ago, he swiftly settled around her as he
crouched behind her, his fingertips mere inches from her shoulders.
“Buffy,” he replied, his
voice catching on her name just like he always had.
Slowly she turned her
face and body to look at him. The faint light from inside the house backlit his
spiked hair and his imposing form. But the sliver of moonlight that had cast
the shadows in the yard allowed her to see the planes of his face and his eyes,
which glowed, even though they were brown rather than gold.
“What are you doing
here?” she asked meekly, scared of chasing away the apparition before her.
“
Buffy shook her head, not
sure she was seeing him here, not believing what she was hearing. Maybe she was
dead, and this was just another of the comforting visions that had surrounded
her there. Being with Angel was heaven, so she had to be dead. Or she was going
crazy...
“I’m... I don’t
understand,” she mumbled, her head turning away from her Angel hallucination.
Maybe she was finally losing it.
“You don’t understand
what?”
That simple questioning
comment snapped her back to reality. Angel in her dreams, in heaven always knew
what she meant. That meant this was real. He was real. And real meant pain and
leaving.
“Why did you decide to
come? I thought you’d decided we didn’t live in each other’s world anymore,”
she said bitterly.
“I know,” Angel replied
chagrined, but stayed focused on his task and Buffy’s seemingly erratic state
of mind. “But I felt I had to come back. If The First is here, then I need to
help send it back where it came from. I can’t let you face it alone. You fought
it for me last time, the least I can do is help fight it with you now.”
Finally hazel-green eyes
lifted from where they’d been fixed to a spot on the wood porch floor and
turned to meet the chocolate pools that had been waiting for her to do so since
he’d walked into the Summers home. They were weary, nervous
and afraid. But beneath it all there seemed to be a small spark of hope at his
words.
Then it seemed doused as
she frowned, reality and history reigning in her that little
optimistic glint that had been there.
“And when it’s over?”
The simple words cut
through him like a ray of sunlight, setting his insides on fire. He realized
what she was really asking. She wanted to force him to admit that he was
leaving again. That he was going to do what he had been doing for the last four
years; coming to save the day and then ride off again, leaving her behind with
nothing but false promises and bitter memories. His throat tightened as he
realized just how much he’d hurt her.
But no
more.
//but you still have all
of me//
“I’m here till you want
or need me to leave,” he stated sincerely, solidly, “and I promise you this
time that if you say you need me to stay forever, I’ll stay.”
Looking into his eyes,
she could see that he really believed what he was saying. This time, she
thought for a moment, maybe he really would stay. Except it was probably too
late, and she half sobbed, half laughed at their continued run of bad timing.
“I don’t know if I have
forever to give you Angel,” she replied simply, tiredly.
“I don’t understand.
Why?” he asked, and the defeat in her eyes gave him the answer. “The First?”
She nodded,
the straight blonde hair dipping slightly as she looked away towards the floor
again. His hand reached up to bring her face back to his view, making first
contact with her since his arrival at her side. The shock of his cool hands on
her skin burned her more than any fire ever could. More than Riley or Spike
ever had.
“You beat it before, when
it was just you fighting it. This time you have Faith, the potentials, Giles
and the rest. And you have me.”
“And even if we do win,
you’ll change your mind and leave, won’t you?” she asked numbly, afraid to open
her heart and hope, certain that this was a sweet lie just to tempt her into
caring again.
“No,” Angel swore
angrily, his own pain and guilt coloring his voice. “I can’t leave you again
Buffy. I can’t not be by your side through this apocalypse or
the ones that might come afterwards. I can’t pass the hours just waiting
for the day when
There was a long pause.
Did he really mean that, she thought. When she’d come back
from heaven this last time, he’d called up, needing to see her. But he had left
all the same. What was to say that he wouldn’t again? And if
he was telling the truth, why? He’d been so adamant about her living a
normal life, even when they’d seen each other last year after she’d come back.
What was different now?
“So you’ve changed your
mind then? You’ve realized that I don’t need sunshine or picnics or someone to
grow old with? Have you’ve figured out some way that we can be with each other
without making you too happy? Suddenly you’re okay with us being us again?” she
pushed, her tone getting sharp and defensive.
His head turned from her,
so she saw only his profile in shadow. She swore she could see conflicting
emotions cross his face, even deep in darkness. Of course, maybe it was her
soul seeing his rather than her seeing his face.
“I know we can’t have
some of those things right now, because of what I am. But there might be a
possibility of all of them, someday. And don’t ask, we can talk about it
later,” he said, hushing her with his tone alone, his eyes now turning to
pierce hers. “But I want us to be us again. And about my being
happy, about the curse... Buffy, the curse is gone.”
Silence settled between
them as she fought to comprehend his words. There was possibly something that
would let them be together in the sun, grow old... she was confused, but he
said he’d explain. Okay, not great but okay. She had some time, not a lot, but
after four years she could have a little patience.
But the
news about the curse...
“How?” she asked
suddenly, her tone changed to soft, nearly pleading in her desire to hear how one
of her fondest dreams had come true.
Angel shifted in place
again, this time finally giving up and sitting on the porch. Once he was
seated, he reached out to her, and waited for what he thought was an eternity
before she allowed him to guide her closer to him. With little hesitation, he
was able to pull her directly across from him, her hands in his and her face
mere inches from his. With a sigh, he resigned himself to the task of
explaining what he knew would anger her. Yet he hoped the final reaction to his
story would be happiness.
“We had some problems
with a demon in L.A. Angelus supposedly had some dealings with him but I
couldn’t remember. So we lifted my soul.”
“You WHAT?!?” she yelled
and Angel winced at the shrillness of her near scream.
He’d hoped her reaction
wouldn’t have been so loud. Then she was trying to pull her hands from his as
she attempted to stand and storm off. Instead of letting her go, he held on
tight, anchoring her to the spot and ensuring that she’d hear him out.
“Hey, I’m here, me, not
Angelus,” he pointed out, gripping her hands until her eyes came back into line
with his. A few moments later, lucidity seemed to return to her gaze.
“Sorry, just you without
a soul is like my worst Buffy nightmare,” she remarked, and he nodded his head
in understanding. “So what happened?”
“Willow actually. Things
got screwed up. Someone stole my soul from the safe we were keeping it in. So
they called
“So, happy Angel now,”
Buffy replied, appreciatively.
The self-conscious grin
that slowly crept across his features jump started her heart. His raised
eyebrow at her, and she realized he must have noticed.
“Yeah. I haven’t had the chance to test it, but before she
left
He let the implication
hang that he was here, and only now was he even considering testing the
cemented status of his soul. In fact, once he’d gotten his head on straight
about The First and Buffy, all he could think about as he’d been throwing
weapons and clothes into bags and on the drive to Sunnydale
was how many ways he and Buffy could test drive his new soulfulness.
Now he was wondering if
she wanted that anymore.
Until he noted the blush staining her cheeks and her lips being whetted by her tongue.
His enhanced predator hearing caught her heart rate quicken again and her
breath start to come faster. Finally, the smell of an increasingly aroused Buffy
was something he couldn’t fail to notice, not after so many years of dreaming
and remembering the perfume of it. Okay, he thought smugly, she can’t be
reacting like that because she isn’t interested.
“We sort of have a full
house anyhow,” Buffy demurred, trying to skirt the issue of how much she wanted
to just forget the last few years and toss Angel to the patio and have her way
with him.
“I noticed. There’s
always my place,” he suggested with a velvet tone.
“Isn’t
Angel smirked at her,
sending tight tendrils of want through her belly. How was she supposed to think
rationally when he was looking at her like that?
“I was thinking more like
the mansion. Close to impending doom but private enough for us to talk some
more.”
“Or do more than talk?”
she supplied dumbly, her face nearly cracking as the weight of the pain she’d
been carrying all this time seemed to melt from her shoulders as he gave her a
look that said talking much more wasn’t on his agenda.
And hell, it really
wasn’t on the top of her list of things to do either. The world was in peril
again, another potential apocalypse was ahead, all the girls to protect and she
wasn’t going to waste another minute being away from him now that she could
truly be with him.
“I didn’t want to
assume...” Angel began, even though he really had been assuming that his change
in attitude and his soulful status would make a difference in their
relationship.
“Come on Angel,” she
tossed back with a growing smile as the reality of it really started to hit
her. “You had to know that no matter what, I would always want you in my life.
I love you. I always have, always will. I’ve just been waiting for you to get
your head out of your ass and realize it too.”
“Realize what?” he asked
with a gravelly voice that made Buffy feel light headed. “That I love you?
Buffy, I meant what I said when I told you that in 250 years I’ve loved only
one woman, and it was you. I just couldn’t let you be with me. But after losing
you a second time, and having been given another chance I didn’t deserve, I
can’t imagine a future apart from you.”
The threat of tears from
her eyes brought Angel’s hand up to cup her face, and she leaned into it like
she always had. Like it was her salvation from the weight of
the world. This time the true meaning of that simple action wasn’t lost
on Angel.
There wasn’t anything
left to say anymore. They finally had what they wanted, all they had to do was
take hold and not let go or talk themselves out of it.
“Let me turn off the
radio, get some clothes and leave a note for Giles.”
“I think clothes are
optional, really,” Angel spoke up, pulling her close for a teasing kiss that
had her pulse racing and him being thankful that he didn’t need to breathe,
because she would have caused him to stop otherwise.
“Okay then,” she murmured
when their lips parted, “radio, note and out of here.”
With that, she got up,
pulling Angel up with her, their hands still tightly clasped together. With
deliberate motions she deftly turned off the radio, leaving it sit on the patio
and ushered them into the house where she left a note with Angel’s cell phone
number on the kitchen counter. Leaving him being out of the option, they
threaded their way through the sleeping girls to the front door.
Carefully Buffy closed
the door behind them, and they walked down the path to his car. While the
battle with The First still loomed ahead of them, they finally had what they
had always needed - each other.
End
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