It Takes Time to Heal: Epilogue
by Albrecht
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or "Angel". They belong to Joss Whedon & Warner Bros. TM and © 1999. The song "Only When I Lose Myself" is written by Martin L. Gore © 1998 Grabbing Hands Music Overseas/EMI Music Publishing Ltd. All rights reserved. The lyrics are shown in parenthesis. This is a work of fan fiction and is not intended for publication or sale.
Author's Notes: This short story is mainly meant to explore the range of emotions that Angel experiences having had his heart's desire for a fleeting moment and how he immediately dealt with the repercussions that it caused within him.



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Epilogue

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Doyle was debating whether or not to check on Angel. He didn't want to interrupt anything. If Buffy was still here, he wanted to leave Angel and her alone. Of course it was past five o'clock. He was beginning to lean more to the notion that Buffy was already gone. There hadn't been any more noises coming from downstairs.



Doyle let out a sigh.

< I should cut him some slack. I know how it is. Dealing with an ex. >

Doyle walked over to the couch and grabbed the newspaper. He settled down and began to glance through the sports section.



"You should go down there and check on Angel. We haven't seen him all day long. And besides, he needs to clean up his office. What a mess that is!" Cordelia's voice came from a few feet away. She was pruning and watering one of the office plants.

"Huh? I think he needs to be left alone. Besides, Buffy might still be here." Doyle folded his paper up while he watched Cordelia straighten the plant. She smiled at it then walked over to Doyle.

"Please! We would've seen her by now. It's just as well that she's gone. If it's possible for Angel to brood even more than he usually does, it'll be now. So why don't you talk to him? Have one of those vision thingies of yours so he'll get out and fight evil. Do something." She sat on the couch next to him while picking up a magazine to flip through.

Doyle tossed his newspaper on the coffee table and stood up.

"Alright! Alright your worship- anything else I can do for you?" Doyle called over his shoulder sarcastically as he began to walk towards the stairs that led down to Angel's apartment.

"You could get me a cappuccino." Cordelia sounded hopeful.

Doyle ignored her and stopped at the top of the stairs. He listened and didn't hear anything.



Doyle stepped as silently as possible down the stairs. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the shattered fragments of a vase he froze. He stared at all the pieces scattered around the floor at the base of the stairs.



Doyle heard Angel exhale a sharp breath and it caught his attention. He looked up into the living room area and saw Angel moving in a slow deliberate pattern with his eyes shut in concentration. As Doyle quietly watched Angel perform the movements- he finally recognized what Angel was doing. He had seen Angel perform it before.

T'ai Chi.



Doyle could read Angel's face pretty good. He recognized and understood the inner turmoil. It was the kind of pain only love could cause. After a few minutes he retreated slowly back up the staircase. Angel needed to be left alone, at least for a while. Doyle would make sure that Cordy stayed upstairs as well. He knew what Angel needed in order to get through this.






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