“Hello?” Willow, laughing at one of Dawn’s jokes, picked up the phone in Giles’ London apartment.
“Willow?” Angel’s voice was soft, and sad.
“Angel? Hold on, I’ll get Buffy.” Willow sensed Angel’s tone, and knew he wanted to speak to the one person who he still held in his heart.
Just then Buffy came bounding into the living room, her sunglasses on, ready for a shopping day with some of the slayers whom she’d actually become close with. Willow handed her the phone and mouthed: “Angel.” Buffy’s face immediately became serious, and she took the portable phone into Giles’ study, closing the door.
“Is everything alright?” Buffy sat down in the chair, removing the glasses and her coat, settling in for the long dramatic haul that was conversations with Angel.
“I’m sorry to bother you… is this a good time?” Angel sounded distracted and unsure.
“Angel.” Somehow, Buffy saying his name seemed to focus him.
He took a breath. “Cordelia… died. I… thought you should know.”
Buffy felt as if her whole world was crashing around her. Tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked them back. Angel needed her to be strong for him. “Angel, I am so sorry. I am so sorry.” Buffy, although not always on the best terms with the former member of the Scooby Gang, had lately been thinking of her as one of the evil- fighting family. Cordelia was one of them, and Buffy would grieve for this. They all would.
“I just… it’s good I told you, right?”
“Yes. Yes of course. Cordelia was very important to us. Always will be. I just can’t believe… She never woke up?”
“No. No, she didn’t.”
“What am I gonna say to Xander?” Buffy exclaimed, this thought suddenly occurring to her. Cordelia was Xander’s first true love. He had been with Anya for a long time, and he would always put Anya first, but Buffy knew he still kept a special place in his heart for Cordy. Jesus, Buffy thought. His two loves- dead in a period of several months.
“I didn’t even think… Oh, man.” Angel’s voice wavered and she knew tears were in his eyes.
“Angel… Oh God, there’s nothing to say. I know you loved her very much.”
Angel seemed to hesitate on the phone. “She’s not… you. I still…”
Buffy sighed, and smiled sadly to herself. “I didn’t mean it like that, Angel. I know you love me. We were very different to you. It’s okay. I understand.”
“Oh. Oh, good.” He sounded relieved, but then he relapsed into silence.
“She had really grown up. She was one of the good ones.” Buffy couldn’t stop a few tears from rolling down her face.
“I… I can’t talk about it right now.”
“Oh.” Buffy frowned.
“I need to ask you something.”
“Of course.”
“When Andrew came to LA, to deal with that slayer, he said that… Buffy, do you still trust me?” His voice had a hint of desperation.
“I trust you, Angel. With everything that I am. But I do not trust Wolfram and Hart. Even if my favorite person is this CEO.” Buffy could almost hear Angel smile.
“I just wanted to make sure.”
Buffy ran a hand through her hair. “I should go break the news. Jesus. There’s nothing worse than this.”
“We’ll talk soon?” Angel asked, the hope in his voice resembling a child’s.
“I’ll call tomorrow.” Buffy took a deep breath. “Angel?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Angel’s voice was soft and nostalgic. “I love you too.”
“Tomorrow,” Buffy said, worrying that the finality of saying “Goodbye” would be too much for her lover.
She put the phone down on the desk, and her mind was blank for several minutes. Then, as if a dam opened, the tears started to flow, and Buffy put her head in her hands. She cried for Cordelia, the twenty four year old who’d come so far in eight years, but who had had so much more to go, but who would never get to see those times ahead. She cried for Anya, who had become truly human with the love of a man, and who had been looking forward to so much. She cried for Tara, who had barely been out of the arms of her lover before she was plucked so violently from this mortal plane. She cried for Kendra, the first to make Buffy understand that slaying was destiny. And finally, she cried for all of those left behind. The ones who had to remember, and grieve. She cried for the fact that she’d never allowed herself to cry before; she had never been able to: being the leader didn’t allow time for tears. Buffy wept for a long time, before standing up to make her way into the next room, to tell her family about the fall of one of it’s members. Buffy opened the door to Giles’ study. She lifted her hand to wipe the tears from her face and collect herself, but stopped, and let her hand drop to her side. Buffy surveyed the slayers that were sitting around watching TV. She no longer had to be collected. She no longer needed to be the strongest. She was allowed those tears.
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