Disclaimer: Believe me, I own none of the characters. If I did, Iıd be the happiest woman alive
Spoilers: Takes place during Angel season 3, right after Holtz kidnaps Connor
Summary: Buffyıs POV. Buffy goes to LA to try and talk to a grief stricken Angel, who hasnıt said a word since he lost his son
Rating: PG- Angsty
Feedback: Sure, why not! I need some pointers (slayage@hotmail.com)
Comment: Only my second fanfic. I guess this means Iım becoming a real fanatic, doesnıt it?
As I pull up to the hotel, I wonder what exactly Iım going to say to Angel. The first thing that springs to mind right now is, how the hell could you not tell me Darla was alive? That you slept with her? That you had a son?! However, I know that my visit today has nothing to do with my feelings, it has to do with Angel, and what heıs going through.
I walk through the doors of the Hyperion Hotel, seeing Angelıs new headquarters for the first time, and I mentally kick myself in the butt for hardly ever coming to visit him.
"Buffy," Cordeliaıs voice is welcoming, but it also sounds like sheıs been crying, not that I can blame her. Sheıs gotten very close to Angel, and theyıve become like a family.
"Hey," I reply, softly. Cordy comes up to me, and, not knowing what else to do, I slowly move towards her and give her a soft hug. We both know the hug is not only an act of friendship, but as a silent thank you for taking care of the man I love for all these years.
"Where is he?"
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As I slowly turn the knob to Angelıs room, I secretly contemplate turning around and going back to Sunnydale. But no matter how hard this is going to be, I have to be strong. For him.
The room is dark, as I expected it to be, but I spot Angel right away. Heıs wearing his usual all-black ensemble, his hair looking a little messy. He sits against the far wall of his bedroom, grasping a teddy bear in his hand. Connorıs, obviously, I silently say to myself. He doesnıt look up to see who just entered his room, and Iım not sure if he knows that itıs me who has trespassed. Somehow at this point, I doubt he cares. I slowly walk up to him, then slide down the wall and sit down next to him, our arms slightly brushing against one anotherıs. I look into his eyes from my place beside him, and I can tell he hasnıt slept in days. It doesnıt look as if heıs cried yet though, Cordelia told me she hasnıt seen him show any real sign of emotion. He just sits here all day and night, staring at the stuffed animal in his hand.
"Hi," I whisper to him, and without another word, I take one of his hands in mine, holding it tightly with both of mine. He doesnıt move, and showıs no sign that heıs even aware of my presence.
"Iım sorry," I continue. My voice is still a whisper. I donıt want to disrupt the silence of the room. "Iım sorry for not being here when all this happened. I mean, I know you have a family here, but something as big as this, I should be there for you too." Silence from him. "I wish you wouldıve talked to me. I wish you would talk in general."
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For the next fifteen minutes or so, I allow the room to be left in silence, and leave Angel to his thoughts. Although for those fifteen minutes I had given up on trying to speak, I continue to look deep into his eyes, still trying to read him. I soon speak my mind though. "I wish I knew what youıre thinking. Maybe then I would know what to say, or what to do." Once again I wait for him to say something, but he just keeps staring at the bear in his hand. "Angel, can you just acknowledge that you know Iım here?" I do my best to keep my patience. "Honey, I know that youıre hurting. You lost your son. But thereıs nothing that I can say that can make this better, that would make the pain less. You should just know that of all people, I do understand what itıs like to lose someone you love. I have lost so many friends. Iıve lost you, and you know how much I love you, how much Iıll always love you. And Iıve lost my mother. The most important person to me in the worldand I lost her." Remembering all the pain I do so well to keep bottled up inside, I feel tears beginning to form in my eyes. Finally, Angel changes position. He does hear me, hears what Iım saying. I know because he turns slowly and faces me. He looks into my eyes, sees the first tear running down my cheek, and he lifts up his hand and ever so gently wipes it from my face. He then cups my cheek with his hand, and I cover that hand with mine. "You donıt have to be strong with me," I whisper to him, and I know he knows what I mean. I see a tear roll down his cheek, and hold his hand even tighter. Before long he canıt stop. His sobs wrack his entire body, and tears from my eyes begin to flow more freely as well, for the pain weıve both suffered throughout our lives. I take Angel in my arms, and hold him there. Iıll hold him for as long as he needs me to.
Iıll always be there when he needs me.