DEDICATION: Laure, Melinda, Rebecca and Salatina, for being GREAT beta- readers, as always. :)
*****
She hadn't been able to do it, and she was angry with herself as she walked down the street. The bus had pulled up to the street corner and let passengers on, and she'd just stood there, then walked away, unable to bring herself to climb on. Buffy was now walking towards the train station, since another bus wouldn't come for another four or five hours. But she couldn't believe she'd been completely unable to force herself to leave Sunnydale once again. It was as she'd feared, with Angel back leaving became a thousand times harder. She didn't want to go, didn't want to leave him, and to say she was furious with herself because of her own weakness would have been an understatement.
"Buffy!" The sound of her mother's voice caused the Slayer to whirl around worriedly to see her mother's car pulling up next to the street and her mom stepping out before the car had even completely stopped. "Buffy!"
"What?" Buffy asked harshly, crossing her arms over her chest protectively as she wondered how her mother had found her.
"Mr. Giles called me, informed me that the ritual had been a success," Joyce explained, answering her question unintentionally with her next sentence, "I couldn't let you leave, so I got into my car and drove, hoping that I'd find you. And I have. Now let's go home."
"No," Buffy answered angrily. "And don't ask me to again. Because I won't."
"Buffy, this is insanity!" her mother shouted. "You're seventeen years old, where are you going to go? What are you going to do without a high school education? You think anyone will give you a job? Living on your own, a runaway, you think that's an intelligent choice to make?"
Buffy stared back at her mother impassively. "Maybe not, but it's the only one I can make," she replied dryly. "And you're not going to be able to convince me to stay."
"Buffy . . . " Joyce trailed off and sighed. "What if I made you a deal? What if you went to live with your father instead of me? Went to school there . . . although not at Hemery, of course, but there are other high schools you could go to, I . . . Buffy, I don't want to see you throw your life away because of a few mistakes."
"A few mistakes?" Buffy raised an eyebrow and let out a humorless laugh. "Mom, you have no idea how many mistakes I've made. You just don't get it."
"Then explain it to me!" Joyce shouted, then took a deep breath, doing her best to calm down slightly, as she knew that yelling wasn't going to show Buffy the error of her ways. "I didn't mean what I said, that you shouldn't come home . . . "
Buffy rolled her eyes heavenward. "Have you not listened to a word I've said?" she asked, shaking her head. "This has nothing to do with you. Okay? Nothing. This is about me. Don't you realize that?"
"Buffy you're . . . you're not being rational," Joyce replied after a moment. "Just come home, and we can talk, try to work this out."
"There's nothing to work out," Buffy answered coolly. "You're not going to change my mind."
"There's nothing I can say?" Joyce queried, a resigned note to her voice.
Buffy shook her head, tears filling her eyes and blurring her vision. "No," she answered quietly.
"Then here," Joyce reached into her pocket book and took out her wallet.
"Mom!" Buffy protested, loudly. "I don't want your money."
"I don't care," Joyce answered. "Please, Buffy, just take it." Her mother handed her several hundred dollar bills. "I'd feel better if you had it. Just so I know you're safe. Please?"
Buffy closed her eyes and hesitated, then nodded. "Fine," she said softly, putting the money in her jeans pocket.
"Wait," Joyce said quietly, stepping forward and holding out her arms. Buffy accepted her mother's embrace. "Keep in touch, okay?" Joyce begged. "A phone call, every once and a while . . . let me know how you're doing."
Buffy nodded and pulled away. "I will," she promised.
"Can - " Joyce hesitated. "Can I drive you?" she asked. "To the train station? I'm assuming that's where you're going."
Buffy shook her head. "I think it would be better if I went alone," she replied softly.
Joyce sighed and started towards her car, then turned back. "If you change your mind," she said quietly, "You are always welcome. Always."
"I know," Buffy answered softly. She watched as her mother got into the car, hesitated, then pulled away. For a long moment Buffy just stared after her, watching the car disappear from view. Then she turned briskly around and walked away.
*****
When the telephone rang Angel was more than a little surprised. He hadn't expected anyone to want to even think of him, let alone contact him. He reached over to pick up the receiver. "Yeah?"
"Angel?" Giles' voice completely and utterly shocked the vampire, and his eyes widened. For a long moment he was incapable of speaking.
Finally, he swallowed tightly and managed to get his voice working again. "What?" he asked, worriedly. He had absolutely no desire to deal with the Watcher right now, not after everything he'd put him through, from the death of Jenny Calendar to the torture Angelus had subjected him to.
"We need you," Giles replied, tightly, obviously as uncomfortable talking to Angel as Angel was talking to him. "To find Buffy."
Angel stood and began to pace. "What do you mean?"
Giles took a deep breath and began to explain. "It's a binding ritual," he started. "If performed it will allow you to track Buffy no matter where she goes. It may very well be the only way to bring her home."
"Wait . . . what?" Angel blinked and shook his head slightly. "No," he answered flatly. "She wouldn't want that."
"It's the only way to find her," Giles replied.
Angel bit the inside of his lip and sat down on the couch for a moment, then stood and began to pace again, definitely not wanting to see any of Buffy’s friends, or anyone, for that matter. Yet how could he say no? He owed the Watcher his life after what he'd done, he couldn't refuse a simple favor. "Fine," he answered simply. "When?"
"Tomorrow?" Giles queried.
"Fine," Angel said again, before hanging up. In retrospect he realized that had probably been somewhat rude, yet he wasn't up to dealing with anyone right now. Sleep had done very little to help him, he was still as numb as he'd been when he'd gone to bed. Nothing seemed quite real, it was more like a maze of confusion. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate not being able to remember the past few days, for that he was rather grateful. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what torments lay in store for him when he truly died. Yet at the same time it bothered him that he couldn't remember other things, as well, things completely unconnected with Hell or his loss of soul.
Tiredly he reached for a book near his bed, deciding that thinking was definitely more trouble than it was worth.
*****
The train pulled up into the train station, and Buffy looked up from the magazine she'd been reading to pass the time while she waited. Others did the same, all heading towards the large transportation vehicle and piling in. She sat down in a four seated area, hoping for some privacy, and was more than a little irritated when two people, an obvious couple, sat down across from her.
Buffy opened her magazine again and began to read. For about a half hour there was blessed silence, but then the woman began to speak, and Buffy was unable to help herself from listening in. "Do you really think so?" the woman asked; she was about four years older than Buffy, and was looking at what Buffy assumed was her boyfriend with a worried expression.
The man, somewhat handsome in his own way, took his girlfriend's hand in his and kissed a ring upon her finger. Buffy sneaked a look and saw that it was an engagement ring, then immediately looked away. "Yes," he replied pointedly. "Melody, it's going to be fine. I promise."
The woman, Melody, beamed back at him. "I don't know what I'd do without you," she said softly, shaking her head. "I really don't."
"Well, you'll never have to find out," the man answered, giving her ring another soft kiss, before leaning across the arm-rest to softly kiss her lips. "I love you."
Melody smiled back gently. "I love you, too," she said quietly, her eyes filling with tears. The train stopped, and the couple stood, wrapped in each other's arms as they walked out of the compartment and towards one of the now opened doors. Buffy sniffed, wiping away her own tears at the memories the couple had evoked in her. Sighing and closing her eyes, she silently hoped that the man kept his promise and never left his young fiancé.
Shaking her head, Buffy forced herself to laugh slightly at how sentimental she was being about two people she'd never in her life met or talked to. And she refused to think for even a moment that the emotions she felt were really about her and Angel. She turned her attention back to her magazine article, and refused to think about either for the rest of the train ride.
*****
Xander had come back to the library the next day to find Cordelia, Giles, Oz and Willow, all working quietly on separate parts of the ritual that would bind Buffy to Angel. He sighed heavily and sat down to pout, but was immediately approached by Giles, who appeared even more worn out then he had before as he handed Xander a book. "Look up chapter seventeen and copy down the Latin, then use this, see if you can decipher a proper English translation. The other one is rather inaccurate."
Xander blinked and looked towards the book then up towards the Watcher, ready to refuse. He changed his mind and quietly began to work, deciding that maybe Cordelia did have a point; he was taking this entirely too personally. After several hours of hard translation, however, he was more than prepared to take a half hour break, and he asked Cordy to join him, to which she agreed. As they walked out of the school towards the pizza place nearby, Cordelia opened her mouth to speak. "Xander?" she asked, quietly.
Xander turned towards her. "What?" he replied.
Cordelia cleared her throat and sighed slightly. "You're not jealous, are you?" she wondered. "I mean, of the fact that Angel's the one closest to Buffy, not you?"
"What?" Xander said again, stopping to face her with wide eyes. "Cordy, what are you talking about?"
Cordelia just looked back at him. "It's the only explanation that makes any sense, Xander," she answered. "This huge attitude of yours . . . I can't think of any other explanation for it, can you?"
"Cordy . . . " he trailed off and shook his head. "That's absolutely insane. I'm NOT jealous. At all."
She shrugged. "Then what's with the 'tude?" she queried. "You act like you and Angel are like arch-enemies and've been fighting each other for centuries or something. I don't get it."
Xander rolled his eyes, tired of explaining himself. "The guy's a killer, Cordy. He killed Ms. Calendar, he tormented Buffy . . . I don't get why the rest of you are all warm and fuzzy towards him."
"Xander . . . " Cordelia trailed off and shook her head. "Forget it. I don't want to fight." She leaned towards him and kissed him, causing him to blink in surprise before returning it. "Let's just forget all about Buffy and Angel for a little while. Okay?"
Xander was more than happy to agree.
*****
Joyce Summers stared out at the night from her position on the porch where she and Buffy had sat so often to watch the sun set, or rise, depending on whether or not they were sharing the same insomnia at any one particular time. Taking a sip out of the coffee cup she held in her hand, she watched as a few raindrops fell from the sky. They were small, almost unnoticeable, yet mirrored her mood nonetheless. Sunnydale seemed to have had an unusual amount of rain in the past few days, but Joyce preferred it, enjoying the fact that nature seemed to be as upset as she was over the past few days' events.
She couldn't get the memory of Buffy's attitude out of her mind. The way her daughter's eyes had flashed with rage when she'd insisted Buffy come home. Joyce had never for one moment thought her daughter could be so angry, so passionately furious. At the same time there were the dark circles under her eyes, the redness of her gaze, the way her hands had constantly seemed to shake with inner tremors, and the way her voice seemed different somehow, a haunting timbre to it that was unrecognizable.
She also couldn't believe what Giles had told her, about her daughter, about how the man she'd met on only two occasions was Buffy's boyfriend, and about all that had happened between him and her daughter. She wasn't able to comprehend how she could have been so blind. How could all of this have happened without her knowledge? And if she hadn't seen Buffy stake that vampire only a few nights ago, would she ever have known? Or would she have forever remained din the dark, with only the vaguest ideas of what her daughter was going through?
Joyce shook her head as she felt tears fill her eyes. She'd always thought her daughter had fallen in with the wrong crowd . . . that her daughter was just a troublemaker due to the problems Joyce had had keeping her marriage with Hank together. Joyce shook her head, shocked at her own stupidity. How could she have blamed everything on Buffy? How could she have possibly thought that Buffy just wasn't well-adjusted? How could she not have realized . . .
Joyce stood angrily, as a flash of lightening lit the dark night with an almost blinding white hue. And for the rest of the night she stood on the porch, letting the lightening and thunder wash over her.
*****
Tomorrow night came far too quickly for his liking. Angel glanced at the clock and then sighed slightly, more than anything else not wanting to go to the library and perform the ritual. He didn't want to face them, see them. Truthfully, he didn't want to deal with anyone, not just them. Everything was so confused, and the memory loss and lack of true feeling wasn't helping.
He hesitated and debated internally whether or not he should go. It would be so very easy to just take off himself, and let the Slayerettes deal with the Slayer's absence without him. After all, how much help could he truly be? How would be possibly be able to help Buffy when he couldn't even help himself? Yet he knew even as he thought it, leaving wasn't an option. He'd given Giles his word, and after all that he'd done to the Watcher he didn't have any right to break his promise. Not that that made it any easier, however.
Angel reached for his jacket and put it on over his white T-shirt as he tried to think of something appropriate to say. Nothing seemed quite right. And he was pretty sure Hallmark didn't make a card relative to the occasion. Then again, what could he possibly say? 'I'm sorry' certainly wasn't an option. It was a gross understatement, and one he refused to utter. Apologies were far too weak for this particular occasion. Maybe the best and only thing he could truly do was arrive, perform the ritual, and leave. After all there was no true reason to say anything, except the words needed to allow him to track Buffy.
It wasn't until he thought of it that he realized he really didn't know what this ritual would do. Giles had said it was the only way to find Buffy, and that he would be able to know where she was afterwards. That wasn't much of an explanation. Well, he supposed it couldn't hurt to ask Giles exactly what effects the ritual would have. That was something to say, at least.
That seemed the only way to do it. Just completely avoid the issue. If he didn't mention it, maybe Giles wouldn't either. It wasn't that Angel wanted to forget it had happened, he just didn't want to have to deal with it. At least not now, not when everything felt so strange, when some of his memories were gone, and when the guilt he should have felt in overwhelming intensity wasn't there. He had to smile slightly at the thought, he felt guilty because he didn't feel guilty. That was a new one, at least.
Angel realized he'd hesitated long enough. He was already ten minutes late, just because he'd been debating with himself over whether or not he should really go. If he was going to leave, he had to do so now. With a soft sigh, he left the safety and solitude of his apartment and headed towards the library.