Disclaimer: I don't own any of the BTVS characters; they belong to Joss and his gang. No copyright infringement intended, so please don't sue!
Summary: This is what *should* have happened during the scene in "Homecoming" where Buffy tells Angel that she's dating Scott. I'm a major Buffy-Angel fan, so this is complete angst. Feedback appreciated.
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He had been pacing fiercely for hours in the empty darkness, chased by menacing forms that howled and clawed to escape from the memory that threatened to engulf him. Although the fireplace in the vast hall was glowing, he shivered from an icy cold that flowed through his veins like venom.
His mind was churning. What was taking her so long? Even though he could not fully remember their past, he felt a grateful sense of comfort when she was near. The thought of her very existence provided a welcomed sanctuary for his frenzied mind. But tonight, he felt so helpless, like an abandoned baby clinging to its mother's memory for breath. He was caged in an insanity of images that he hated almost as much as he feared. He wanted to flee, to hide, to shatter apart the lock and tear free. But what good would that do? For as long as he existed, he could never escape from himself.
He jerked his head up suddenly. She was here. He could sense her presence as always; at least some things never change. He moved towards the doorway and with a start, flung open the drapes. She was standing there, silent. As if she had been waiting for him all along.
"I- it’s just me. Here."
Avoiding his eyes, she handed him the paper bag. He accepted it and retreated back into the shadows. His senses were frantic from the smell of blood inside the container that his hands now eagerly embraced. He had turned away from her, unconsciously ashamed of his animal desires. But she did not seem to notice.
"How are you feeling?"
He jerked his head away slightly from the tub of blood, surprised by her voice as though hearing it for the first time.
"It hurts...less."
It wasn’t a complete lie: she was here now; the haunting visions had faded for a while at least.
"Good."
She turned around as if to leave, but then spun back again, finding the courage to continue.
"I haven't... told Giles and the others that... you're back."
"Giles?"
His mind swept though an endless stream of scattered memories... oh yes, her watcher. He had forgotten so much.....how much?...not enough, he discovered every writhing sleep.
He closed his eyes, tasting the warm blood trickle down his throat, and sear through his entire body, reviving him anew.
Her eyes caressed his naked flesh, the tense muscles of his back relaxing as he absorbed the liquid. She wanted to reach out to him, to ease his pain with a tender touch. Angel, oh Angel. She was overcome by a heavy longing that pressed upon her breast like tears that no longer had the strength to be wept. How many dream-filled nights she had spent inside the refuge of his arms. The arms she longed would wrap her now against the solid chest that pounded in time with her own when she laid her ear against it, and enfold her in a safety she had never found anywhere else.
But now that he was actually here, she was so confused. Everything was so different from when they had last been together. She had finally been able to let him go, start over, and now.... What kind of cruel game were the Fates playing? And he too was not the same. She did not know what to say to him. How much could he remember? What had happened since their last encounter?
She was afraid of him. Afraid to touch him in case a demon lashed back. Afraid to look into those smouldering eyes in case what returned her gaze was a hollow abyss that she knew was beyond understanding. Afraid to love him again, because it just hurt too much.
"And I'm not going to. They wouldn't understand that you're... better. A-a-and I'm gonna keep helping you get better."
That was all they had talked about since his return: his health, arrangements about food and sleep and anything except what was really on their minds. Tension drained away the air they breathed, suffocating them in the familiar silence that slumbered soundly in between them.
"Is there anything else you need?"
He turned around to face her.
"No...thank you. "
"OK. Well, I’ll come back tomorrow some time with more. "
"OK."
"OK. Bye."
"Goodbye," he echoed.
She turned her back on him again, slowly edging towards the door.
"Buffy, how long are we going to keep doing this for?" he whispered.
She froze. He had thrown a spear into that shield of ice guarding her heart; it was stuck there in suspension, threatening to splinter the delicate casing at any given moment unless she took care. She could not face him, not now when the warmth she had been so desperate to banish was about to seep in and melt her wall.
"What do you mean?" That was a safe reply.
"Buffy, I can only remember fragments of the past. Most of my memory is filled with horrors. It’s all a haze, and I can’t make sense of it. But I know everything’s in there somewhere."
Her ears echoed with the distant crashing of ice. A timid hand rested on her shoulder, gently turning her around to receive his gaze.
"I can’t do this by myself: I need your help."
Howling heat flooded her, melting the ice into a sparkling pool that reflected the heart it rippled from like a restless mirror to the soul, screaming to burst out of its ribbed walls and radiate its energy.
Was he clasping her shoulder too tightly? Oh, why had he said that? It was obvious she wanted to avoid him; that she was just doing her duty by helping him. He was always pulling her back. He didn’t blame her for running away from him; God knows he would if he could. But...there was so much he did not understand, that he wanted to understand...
She lifted her face to touch his stare, and as their eyes locked into a tight embrace, everything else dissolved into a dark nothingness. Just eyes. Eyes searching each other endlessly for a flicker of light. Piercing deeper and deeper into themselves, probing for a spark. And then, in one eternal instant, a sudden flash exploded into an inferno that blazed with such fury, it hurled their black world into blinding light. Eyes penetrated infinitely deeper, clutching each other’s soul with an intensity that ached.
And then, with a blink, it was dark again. They stood there breathless, his hand still on her shoulder. But the silence that reigned was no longer choking them. This was the soothing silence after the breaking of dawn, just before the air is filled with the music of waking life. Each stared with new eyes now. They knew that somewhere within each of them flared the inextinguishable souls of the one they could never stop loving.
"Tell me everything you can remember," she whispered, binding the hand on her shoulder into her own and leading him to a cold stone bench. But the hardness and coldness that met their bodies when they sat down did not matter to them, for inside each was flaring a fire of hope that had aroused their souls.
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