Chapter 7 - Living Conditions
Last time Oz had seen Willow things had been different. He had missed her at Buffy's funeral; too distraught to stick around she had gone home with Xander in floods of tears. In succession, she had lost Tara and Buffy who he knew; in their own little quirks had both meant everything to her. Just as he had once. A long time ago. Before he threw it away.
Part of him would always wish he had stuck around; been strong enough to face the facts, been there to help when Buffy had finally succumbed to the only thing that would ever take her down. Love. Buffy had loved Connor unconditionally; not because he was a good man, not because she saw something pure within him, but because he was Angel's son; a little, square, more-touchable piece of the only man she had ever truly loved; and she so wanted him to be good.
It wasn't the fact that she let him kill her that made her feel weak; it was the fact that she had let him hurt so many people, that she'd let him be evil.
Oz had willed himself to be strong enough to stay that night when he had last seen Willow, the night when it actually hit him that he'd lost her - Maybe forever - but he couldn't stay. What was Sunnydale without Willow? The same thing; he guessed, that the world was without the slayer.
"Hey Oz."
He looked up and smiled into those warm, familiar eyes. "Hello Stranger."
She smiled more deeply and pulled her hair out of her face. "Long time no see! Sorry I missed you at the funeral...it was all abit, well hard ya know?" She pulled her eyes away from his as the sadness filled them; not really knowing why.
"I understand. I just missed you is all. All of you."
She blinked all uncertainty away and sat down beside him. "I missed you too. Always Oz. I wish you had called; or written; or sent a post card...hell, I even wish you'd shouted my name across an ocean somewhere, or whispered it in a crowded room."
"I did Wil. Everyday. Every Night."
"Things would have been so different if you'd stayed," She looked away and bit her lip before adding "the first time."
"Not necessarily "good different". There are so many "what ifs"," He tapped his temple, "up here; always have been. So if you're looking for confirmation that I still care, that I always have, then look no further than that."
-----
Dawn pouted. "I'm not worth saving. Don't do it again."
Spike sighed and handed her a clean sweater. "Don't pout. You look so much like her when you pout that it's unreal." He run his hand through his hair and she still pouted; pissed at the bollocking she'd had from Faith, Angel, Willow and Xander in succession. He shook his head and laughed slowly. "You don't mean that anyway. You're such a little princess, always have been, always waiting for someone to swoop in and save you. I'd go as far as saying you enjoyed it love."
She looked at him and wrinkled up her face. "Enjoyed it? Jeez Spike, You may get some sick buzz out of having the whole nation shout you down but I don't OK?"
He raised his eyebrow sarcastically. "Whatever you say, Little Bit."
-----
"OK guys, I'm gunna bed."
Angel looked up from his seat, frowning slightly as Xander left the table, left the room, left him with Faith. "'Night."
Faith shook her head; sighing loudly. "Don't worry Angelus, I ain't gonna start confusin' y'all again."
"But...we need to"-
"Talk? Hell yeah we need to talk; but for once; I'm just gonna sit here and listen until you've finished."
Angel began; feeling the weight lift from his shoulders as he talked to her; the only way he knew how, from his heart. He started at the beginning. At Darla and being sired. He started by telling her how, although he never loved her, Darla and he were always close; closer infact than he had ever felt to Buffy; to Cordy, to Faith. He knew her better than he had ever known anyone, she was the only one who'd ever let him in close enough to know her fully. She didn't trust him and he didn't trust her, and through that they developed some kind of mutual respect for each other. He said, as he bumbled on; that the only person he'd ever felt respected by was Darla.
He moved onto his feelings for Buffy. The way that he felt for her. The way that he was so used to her being with him, that it had almost killed him, his first night in LA, without her; without feeling her. He was bemused at the way that he could love someone so much and hardly know her at all. Buffy had never let him in. She had trusted him; but never enough to let him love the whole of her.
Cordelia had been different, fresh, Cordy had loved him before she'd even known and the feeling was mutual. She had let him love the whole of her; her soul, her heart; but she'd never let him in her head, in that space where her feelings were held; he was scared though, he said, that if he got in there, with her funny little thoughts and feelings; he'd never be able to draw himself away. When Connor had killed her, he had killed a part of Angel that until being with her; he'd never known existed. He missed her, in a part of his heart that he had overlooked before.
"And then there's us." He sighed. "There's this little, niggling feeling in the back of my mind everytime I see you. I have pushed it away and pushed it away because we both know that love - here" He motioned between them, "- isn't practical, isn't right; can't be right for a very long time." He sighed and sat down. "So why is it there? Niggling. Aching. Hurting. Killing me. It's passion Faith. Passion and love and loneliness. Love isn't a real emotion. Not the way they describe it anyway. Love is Hate and Hope and Happiness and Fear, all rolled into one. Love is wanting to be near someone, but not so close that they recognise you. Love is wanting to let go but ending up holding on for dear life. Love hurts, and Love defends. Love is not an emotion. Love is being alive....and I'm not."
"So you shouldn't be allowed to love."
Angel looked at Faith and shook his head. "Not if it's this painful. Not if I'm hurting you."
She looked at the ceiling and moved towards him. "The only thing that is hurting me; is your failure to distinguish that not everything is black and white, good and evil, right and wrong. There is this blur between them, and that's OK. I know you think there should be a line, and I know you think there is a line; but in my head, in my heart...in my soul; there's no line. There's only you and I don't give a fuck whether your heart beats or not." She kissed him hard and forcefully. "Now think about that my friend."
Walking away, she shook her head and smiled.
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