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“Angel?” Buffy asked incredulously. He never came to see her, not unless there was some kind of evil brewing. “Is everything alright?” She asked, stepping aside to let her ex-lover into the house.
“Not with you, I hear.” His voice was somber, and he walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. “But nothing world-endangering, no.”
“What do you mean, ‘not with me’?” She asked, sitting down in the chair across from him. She was suddenly very aware of her unkempt appearance. She reached up to her head and tried to untangle her hair with her fingers.
“Everyone’s called me. Willow, Dawn, even Xander. What is going on, Buffy? Where are you?” Angel leaned forward onto his knees, trying to search her eyes for the old, spunky Buffy he once knew. Now, after her time in heaven, she looked drawn, defeated. She looked as if she’d given up.
Buffy looked away. She felt a twinge of anger that her friends had gone around her back. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
Buffy quickly turned to him. “Do you know what it’s like to be finished? Have you ever felt at peace? No, of course you haven’t. I hadn’t either, before this summer. But I was in heaven. I was finally done. And now I have to start over. I have to begin from scratch. Completely. Willow had no right—”
“You’re right, she didn’t. She shouldn’t have brought you back. I know I wouldn’t have let her. But she did. You’re here now. You have a life, and a sister, and a calling.”
Buffy felt hot tears rise to her eyes. “And I hate it! I hate that I have to fight on, all over again! I don’t want to. I can’t. I don’t feel. I don’t care.” She shook her head.
“Buffy. I can only imagine the pain you must have gone through after being brought back. I am so sorry. I’m sorry that it happened, I’m sorry I wasn’t here. But Buffy…” Angel trailed off, and Buffy looked into his eyes. He continued. “Buffy, you need to get over it. What’s done is done. You need to stand up and be the person I know you can be.”
“How can you say that? I just don’t… I just can’t…” She sniffed and tears rolled down her cheeks.
“You can, and you will. Everyday, Willow looks at you suffers for what she has done, what she has made of you. Now you need to suck it up, and fight. Dig into yourself and find the spark of life. People need you, Buffy. People count on you.”
Buffy shook her head, and brought her knees up to her chest. Angel stood up, and walked over to her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and stood her on her feet. She looked at him. “No,” she whispered. “No.”
Angel sighed. “I’m sorry.” He slipped into his vampire visage, and brought up a fist. He punched her on her cheek, and she went flying across the room. She looked up, where he had hit her was red, already turning purple. She stood up slowly, and looked at him. She did nothing. Angel rolled his eyes and jumped over so he was standing in front of her. He struck her across the jaw. This time she staggered, but did not fall. “Come on,” Angel said, provoking her, “you gonna let me just hit you like that? That’s not who you are! Buffy wouldn’t take this shit from anybody! Come on!” He lifted his hand again, and swung, but this time she caught it. “That’s right.” Angel nodded. He yanked his arm out of her grasp and charged at her, but she quickly sidestepped him and pushed him, sending him spinning onto the ground. He was about to flip up, but she tackled him, pinning him to the ground. She punched him, two, three, four times, a look of determination and anger on her face, until finally he slipped back into his human face. “There you are,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips. “There you are.” Buffy immediately looked into his eyes, and started sobbing. She sunk into him, and he held her, lifting his body off the ground so that he was sitting up, supporting her crying frame. “It’s going to be alright, Buffy. You’re going to make it through this, and you’re going to be stronger.”
“Will I, Angel? Will I ever be able to be strong again?” She asked.
“You will, because you have to be.”
“Okay,” she said, “Okay.”
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