Author's Notes: This is primarily my take on the final Buffy\Angel scene in Becoming part 2, told from Buffy's POV. It is my first attempt writing fanfic for this show, so don't flame me too hard if you don't like it. All Buffy-related characters belong to Joss.
Warning: Very filled with angst and spoilers for episode mentioned above. Have a box of kleenex handy.
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I sat alone on the bus that was taking me, perhaps forever, from Sunnydale. The scenery glided by outside the window through which I was looking, but I wasn't really focusing on it. After I had suffered the greatest loss of my life just earlier this day, I didn't much care for sightseeing anymore.
Eventually, I closed my eyes, very much fatigued by the events that had happened over the last twelve hours: the death of my fellow Slayer, Kendra, my expulsion from school, my mother's ultimatum, Angel...
I shook my head then, banishing the memories before they consumed me. I thought fiercely, knowing I'd cry if I dwelled on the latter. < I refuse to think about that! Not here and not now! >
I don't know how long it was until sleep caught me. Maybe a few minutes, maybe an hour. But what made it so hurtful was that the memory of what happened to Angel, so easily repressed while I was awake, insisted on surfacing in my dreams.
I had just slayed one of my former boyfriend's lackeys when the devastating events had been set into motion. While I was distracted, Angelus had managed to complete the ritual to awaken Acathla, a demon with the power to suck every living creature on Earth into hell.
The sword fight between myself and Angelus was repeated exactly as it had occurred; we had been given a few minutes reprieve before Acathla fully came to life. I fought better than I ever had before, wanting nothing more than to see this end. It wasn't long before I had Angelus down for the count, prepared to deliver the final blow that would send both him and Acathla into hell.
But it never came.
I froze when I saw the vampire I had both loved and hated keel over before my eyes, gasping out loud. Before he looked downward, I swore I saw a flash of orange light filling his eyes. And when his gaze met mine again, there were tears in those eyes, along with a great deal of fear and confusion and, above all, love. "Buffy?" he asked in a near whisper, sounding so very lost. A pause, then, "What's going on?"
I had yet to lower the sword or relax my guard, for I couldn't believe what I was seeing. He didn't seem to notice or, perhaps, care, as he slowly stood, asking, "Where are we? I... I don't remember."
It hit me then what had happened. My friend, Willow... She must have tried the spell again, the one to restore Angel's humanity. Dear God, he was back! I lowered the sword slowly, taking half a step towards him. "Angel?" I asked, any lingering doubts just washed away as I said his name out loud.
He didn't answer right away, his eyes just taking in the sight of me. An instant later, he put one hand to my arm, which he himself had slashed with a blade just moments before. "You're hurt," he said simply, expressing avid concern.
At those words, I collapsed into his arms, my heart aching so badly at having him back at long last. How many times had I wished for this, for just a few more precious moments, since his soul was lost and he turned on me? The poignancy of it just pierced me deep into my being, as did his words.
"Oh, Buffy!" Angel said, his arms wrapped tightly around me. "God, I feel like I haven't seen you in months. Everything's so muddled! I..."
I thought.
I resolved to comfort him through it and see that the bond between us grow stronger as a result. It would be hard for both of us to deal with at first, but I firmly believed that we could make it.
Then, I opened my eyes, and I saw Acathla. Angel and I stood before the demon statue, and I was the one facing it. And in that one instant, all my dreams exploded in my face, and it felt like fate was having a good laugh at my expense.
The statue's face elongated, a small circle of orange and yellow light appearing in the mouth and spreading outwards, growing bigger and bigger as it did so. I thought frantically. I felt a deep chill, knowing what had to be done, even as I willed feebly for Acathla to go back to sleep and leave us alone.
I considered all the facts with a heavy heart. Blood had been the key in the ritual to awaken Acathla, which Angelus had provided. And now, only through using the blood of the same person could the portal to hell be closed.
In short, I was being forced to choose between the lives of billions and the life of my one true love. To save an entire world, I would have to sacrifice Angel.
I mused as I pulled away from him. He looked at me questioningly, probably wondering at my sudden change of mood. "What's happening?" he asked.
I wanted so badly to tell him, to prepare him for this, but there wasn't any time. The vortex was still growing and would swallow the entire room in less than three minutes, I approximated. And I wouldn't do the world much good if I allowed myself to be trapped in hell just to be with him. "Shh," I whispered simply, my heart breaking. "Don't worry about it." Then, despite the short amount of time I had left, I leaned closer and kissed him.
The emotions raging through me threatened to tear me apart, but I couldn't stop myself. It seemed like I couldn't get enough of him, his kisses, the feel of him beneath my clinging hands. But somehow, through a strong act of will, I managed to restrain myself. Pulling back to look at him, I whispered, "I love you."
If Angel picked up on the sadness in my voice, he didn't comment on it. "I love you," he whispered back, sounding so innocent and trusting. It did nothing except cause the ache inside my heart to be ever more painful.
"Close your eyes," were my last words to him, giving a slight nod when he hesitated. I had good reason for it; I didn't want him to see the blow coming. I should have struck then, but I had to kiss him one more time, the last time I ever would.
An instant later, I drew away from Angel fully and thrust the sword right through his stomach and into the demon behind him. By now, the vortex had grown to engulf him entirely, and it crackled with energy as it began to be drawn back into Acathla. And the person who owned my heart was going with it.
Angel gasped and opened his eyes as the blade passed through him. He gazed right at me, and it broke my heart to see how confused and betrayed his eyes looked. But a part of him must have still had hope, for he reached one arm out towards me, as if begging me to come and take it back.
But I didn't budge, didn't make a single move towards him. I simply couldn't. Not even when he whispered my name one last time, almost pleading with me. Then, he was gone, taken away into the vortex as it vanished, into a hell he didn't belong in...
I awoke then, rubbing at my eyes and realizing with a start that I was crying when I had vowed I wouldn't. A woman across the aisle noticed this and offered me a kleenex, which I took gratefully. She was also kind enough to offer a few words of comfort, but I was barely consoled by them.
I turned and gazed out the window once more, struck by an image of Angel's trusting face in one of the last moments I had seen him. Gently, I reached out to touch the pane of glass, focusing on a point far beyond the passing landscape.
He was still alive somewhere, I knew. The sword alone hadn't been enough to kill him. But I took no comfort in this fact. Letting him die would have been kind, but I could never bring myself to do that, not to Angel. Instead, I had done the worst thing imaginable; I had banished him into a dimension where his suffering would be extensive.
"Forgive me," I whispered at last, finding the courage now to voice such words and hoping beyond hope that they would reach him. "And, wherever you are, know always how much I love you... Goodbye, my sweet Angel..."
The End.
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