DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the computer upon which this was typed, and my warped little mind, which conceived the notion of this particular story, while it did not imagine up the characters. In other words, don’t sue. I only get $15 a week by doing every chore possibly imaginable…Cinderella probably had it better…but I’m getting off track. The song is by David Usher (a man sexier than Angel..ya, ya, i know...hard to imagine)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This no longer takes placed in my "THE-SEASON-FINALE-NEVER-HAPPENED" world. Yes…I’ve moved on…(damn it…and I had this great idea goin’ and half of it typed out…oh well…)
I LOVE FEEDBACK! HELP A FEEDBACK JUNKIE!
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Part Four
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*smells on the air, see, there its crushing the final impression
After two months of holding back tears, struggling to keep a river sorrow flow from her eyes, other than the occasional drip, Buffy was ready to crack, like an old damn, that was past due for repairs. It was gray and cold. Nobody was around and a silence filled the air that was burdened with a ghostly fog. Ice formed on Buffy’s breath as she exhaled. Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, hugging tightly while hiding her hands inside the arms of her old, faithful leather jacket.
"Nice at this time of year my ass," Buffy mumbled to herself, recalling Pike’s comment.
She scanned her view. The St. Lawrence river. From where she was, it was murky and moved too fast, the swift currents making swirls on the water’s surface. Ice was forming at the edge of the river, spreading outward, like mold suffocating bread. Buffy found an old log and sat down. She still had one more letter to write. Someone that needed to be apologized to, and chastised. Someone needed to be told of her conclusion. Someone needed comfort. Pulling out her faithful pack of stationary, Buffy took out the last few pieces of soft pink paper, lightly scented with some floral powder they’d come with. Sniffing them lightly, sighed. Slowly, a tear dripped down on to the paper. Buffy began to write…
Angel,
I’m sorry…
* the stains on the paper
where the words fell like water unearth all the changes that never did matter
I think its begging to freeze here
caught in the rage and the fire of things all the brightness that burns me
I’m fumbling through like a child in the dark when the nakedness comes
I am shocked by the color, the glorious weight of your skin
comes alive
and I never thought we’d make it back so soon
might be nice, but I knew you’d be your own destroyer
comes a time
and I always thought I’d make it up to you
This was going to be harder than she thought. Out of all the times she had said "I’m sorry", and fully meant it, this was the time where I’m sorry just didn’t seem to cut it.
She continued, tears flowing over their dam. After two months, they were breaking free, full force.
I’m sorry for ignoring your warnings, about not waking up when you kiss me. I’m sorry for sending you to where ever it was you went. I’m sorry for loving you. And at the same time, maybe there’s a part of me that’s angry. You never knew about what would happen if you were to become truly happy! Maybe I should feel flattered, that I was the one to make you "truly happy". Maybe in the end, you were your own destroyer. I love you. Or is it loved? Because I don’t know where you are. And I think maybe these past months, I was looking for you all along. I’ve learned things though. I’ve learned that everything happens for a reason, and in the end, it doesn’t matter, because you’re one in a trillion. I could drop dead tomorrow…and for all I know...the world would still keep spinning. Maybe not. I’ve learned you’re never alone. Memories keep you warm. Thoughts from the past keep you awake. And friends, they’re always there for you, no matter what kind of Armageddon you’ve almost caused. You’re not alone, where ever you are. I’m there with you. Because, I think I still love you. The good you. The part of you that isn’t restricted by the physical limits of a demon in a body. I read a book that said "We live for about 80 years in our body, and never once do we get to park it in a cave and take a vacation." I think the author knew what he was talking about. Well, except for the 80 years part. Give me 20, and you a couple centuries. But the part about being separate from our bodies…Damn you! You left me here! Why? Nothing is as it should be. I was supposed to grow up, go to university, get married to some gorgeous CEO, have kids and drive a sedan. But you came into my life. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with. Most people get jobs from 9 - 5 at night…not 9 at night till 5 in the morning. I shouldn’t be angry at you. You didn’t know. I didn’t know…
Buffy took a deep breath, pausing to brush her eyes dry and shake her hand. The wind was picking up, whipping Buffy’s hair across her cheeks.
*Here please forgive
how could we escape all the bitterness piled upon bitterness
held in the face of the that I don’t understand
intellectualize over and over
this helplessness suits us, funny how quiet has slipped to our corners
and worn all our edges away
you are watching breathing and baiting
wanting and warming and cautiously waiting for some simple signal to creep cross your conscience
uncover redemption and oh did I mention
I carried you down to the ST LAWRENCE RIVER
the banks running dirty, the waters begging to freeze here
solid by morning and I’ll freeze here,
winter by morning
comes a lie
and I never thought you’d get me back so soon
might be nice, but its only if my own destroyer comes alive
and I always knew I’d make it up to you
I didn’t understand anything. I still don’t. I don’t understand why everything is the way it is. I’ve thought about, and thought about it till I thought my head would explode. You were always there for me, hiding in the shadows, lurking in the dark, waiting until I needed you. I didn’t think I’d be able to forgive you so soon. Angelus I mean…or maybe both. I don’t know anymore. I don’t know how you’ll get this letter. To many un knowns. I love you Angel. I now know that is the one given. I don’t care about the evil things done by your body. That’s just flesh. Flesh dies, burns, dusts and rots. A soul is solid. Nothing can kill it. It can be damaged, but not destroyed. Maybe that’s what makes us so strong. I’m cold here without you. I love you, Angel. See you soon?
Love forever,
Buffy
Buffy shakily folded the letter and placed it in the last envelope and sealed it. Writing on the envelope, Angel. Plain and simple. She closed her eyes, and saw his face. Smiling that mysterious, cryptic grin She saw his skin, the perfect, flawless skin of an ageless vampire. Without a single flaw, except for the ones he was born with, which were few. She could almost hear his voice. She tried hard to hear it, lightly tipping her head to the wind, trying to catch the sound. In the end, she had been his destroyer, not the other way around.
*I saw on your face such a curious grin as I let go your hand,
I was desperate to hold you again
but your sinking so deep in the water
outsmarted myself and so easily gave up what I wanted
solid by morning
what I wanted
be winter by morning
She wanted to touch him. His had, his face, his hair. He had always smelled good. Spicy, like myrrh or patchouli.
"I gave up what I wanted, for something I wanted more, and in the end, I lost both" thought Buffy.
So cold waking up alone. A knot choking you at the realization you were alone.
She starred out at the river. It looked so slow, the patterns hiding the deadly currents underneath.
Buffy opened her pack and pulled out a piece of plastic wrap from a cookie she had bought. She wrapped it several times around the letter. Using her foot, she dug out a fair sized rock out of the ground and tied it to the letter, using an old piece of string. Buffy got up off of the log and clutched the letter to her breast and walked towards the river, until she was standing at its edge. With a choking cry, she hurled into the river. Buffy collapsed to the ground and buried her face in her hands and cried. Letting it all go, once and for all.
* * *
A flicker in the darkness. A darkness so dark and smothering, it would crush even the bravest of souls.
he thought. Images clouded around him. Screaming and wailing. His mother, his father. His family, slaughtered by HIS own hands. He wanted to cover his eyes, or close them, make it stop. But he had no hands or eyelids to block out the gruesome images that flooded his mind. Buffy, crying. How could he have hurt her like that? Ms. Calendar…NO! And Giles…. More victims, in a random order washed across him, filling him with a pain more unbearable that anything he had or would ever know. He was crying somehow, on the inside. Angel thought to himself, at a brief intermission of images less disturbing. It had been going on forever he thought. He didn’t recall when it had stared, nor did he know when it would stop, if ever.
A flicker in the darkness, a brief release from a claustrophobic eternity
Dear Angel…
He somehow absorbed this. It was a letter, he registered. The words flooded him. "Love forever, Buffy"
he thought. He experienced a sort of peace you get while sighing. A huge weight, being lifted.
A flicker in the darkness, so brief, almost undetectable. A slight reprieve from purgatory.
The images started again. Angel’s soul howled.
were his last conscious thoughts.
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