Title: Everybody Hurts
Author: Pagan Pylea Princess
Characters: Willow, Angel, Cordy…
Summary: Takes place after “There’s No Place Like Pltz Glrb.”
Disclaimer: Joss is the master, bow down before him. I am the storywriter, bow down before me….
Feedback: Lots and lots please!
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Another small tear rolled delicately along her cheek. It landed with a “splosh” on the linoleum.
She stared at it hard, until her eyes blurred, and the colours around her bled together.
She snuffled and let out a deep breath, blinking back more tears that there seemed no apparent end to.
She had arrived at the hotel only an hour ago, but had found it empty. She had tried to keep herself occupied by taking a good look at her luxurious surroundings. But it had only been a matter of time before the empty, cavernous lobby had alienated her, and made her feel more alone than she had felt back at home. Every movement she made seemed to echo, and every time she brought herself to look up at the bare staircase, at the uninviting glass doors, at the gaping office door that lolled open, and at the mass of open books that spilled out loose pages every where she looked, it seemed to bring her even further into depression.
She picked nervously at the couch, not caring that tears were now falling profusely down her face, betraying her emotions, when she was trying to appear calm and collected, so as not to upset the others before she had a chance to tell them.
The others.
That’s what they were to the Scoobies. An extended part of the family. Their family. It was paramount to her friends that they should find out immediately, and not by phone. This was far too delicate to not converse face-to-face.
She was terrified of how he would react. She didn’t even know if he would cope. The last thing they needed was for him to go over to the dark side.
She had hoped that she would arrive and be able to talk to Cordelia first, so that perhaps she could help her to break the news gently. But now that she thought about it, that would have been a pretty useless attempt. There is no gentle way.
How do you tell someone that the love of their life is...
She still couldn’t bring herself to say that word. It felt impossible. Wrong.
She wiped another tear away quickly, as she head an outside gate creak, and open.
Watching despairingly, she saw a group of cheerful young people come into the hotel garden, all smiling and happy, with no idea what news awaited them in the lobby.
No idea.
Then she saw Angel.
He was happy. He was loved. He looked well. She wanted to smile. But couldn’t.
Her heart raced. What was she going to say? How could she tell him? How would he react? Would he blame her? Would he blame himself?
Her mind raced with ways of opening, or explaining why she was there. Somehow, she didn’t think, “so, how’ve you been” would really do the job.
As she floundered for words to say, she thought of the agony he would be in, no matter how the news surfaced. The unbearable depression – like the one she was in right now. And she wished there was someway to make sure he didn’t hurt. To make sure that she didn’t break his heart by telling him.
And although it never dawned on her, magic didn’t even enter her mind.
She heard the mumbling and laughing grow closer, and then they approached the glass doors. Despite his obvious weariness, Angel bounded ahead,
“I wanna say it!” he announced.
Slowly he pushed open the door and the others giggled as he started, “There’s no place like…”
Then he saw her.
His eyes fixed on hers. She watched his face turn paler, and his expression drop.
“Willow?” he muttered.
It was a “hello.” It was a “How are you?” It was a “What the hell’s going on?” But most of all, it was a “What’s happened to her?”
Because deep down inside he already knew.
Willow tried her hardest not to break down again. It was tough. Her eyes were still locked onto his, he was searching her, his dark brown eyes trying to fathom why she was stood in front of him.
Cordelia started, “what’s…?”
But Angel knew.
Willow had seen his eyes glisten with threatening tears, saw him draw all the information out of her. He didn’t need to know the circumstances. He had been waiting for this news ever since he left. He knew one day it would come. He just didn’t think it would be now.
Slowly, she rose from the couch, trying to keep her legs from buckling beneath her, with exhaustion, panic, and grief. And he froze. Whispered.
“It’s Buffy.”
Willow cried. Just hearing him say her name with such fondness, such love, such compassion, was enough to make her sob in despair, like she’d never stop. She’d given in.
As a young girl, and a young black man stood watching in confusion and bewilderment at the sudden change of atmosphere, Angel sank to his knees in despair. Without saying a word, Willow had confirmed it all.
“It’s Buffy.” He sobbed, with so much pain and sorrow. Tears streaked his face, and Willow cried heavily. She had to let it all out.
The stress of taking care of everyone at home had been devastating on her. She had tried to be the strong one, tried to hold it all together. But the strong one has to bear the brunt of the shock, the anger, the tears. The grief.
She and Tara had immediately moved in to look after Dawnie, who had sunk into a black hole of despair. She had taken care of Spike, who had hidden away in his crypt and neglected even feeding, leaving him drained, angry and violent, until Willow had tried to help him. She had eventually coaxed him into taking his aggression out on the robot, which seemed to help.
She had helped Giles, who had been at a complete loss. Willow had taken to watching over him, keeping him occupied, keeping him focused.
And she had barely seen poor Xander, who was so depressed, he had stayed the first two days in bed, frightening Anya and wearing himself out. So Willow had tried to keep him busy.
They all relied on her. It had been so hard.
But dealing with Angel was just too much.
“Ohh.” Cordelia let out a shocked moan. She sank slowly, and sat on the step. If she had stood any longer, she might have collapsed. She covered her mouth with her hands and stared into space. Shock had caused a tear to track down her cheek, and she trembled with the blow of it all. Slowly, she removed the tiara that perched on her head, and placed it beside her.
Suddenly, she didn’t feel very Princessy.
Wesley leant heavily against the wall frowning in confusion, and shaking his head slowly in disbelief.
“Angel” Willow whined desperately, not even trying to hold back the tears anymore. The word made him sob harder, and made Cordelia choke out more tears.
“She’s gone.” Willow managed to stammer, so much pain in her voice from a week of being stoic. And as she said it, it really dawned on her.
Buffy was gone.
The grief brought her to her knees, and she cried so hard, she began to cough and splutter and dribble, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care anymore.
“She’s really gone!”
Willow wasn’t even aware that Cordelia had stood and made her way over, until she knelt carefully beside her and took her into her arms. Willow clung to her desperately, leaning in to the soft purple robe she wore. So many days of desperation taking other people into her arms and comforting them. Now she needed to be comforted.
The two girls sobbed, Willow much more fiercely than Cordelia.
“I’m so sorry.” Cordy muttered into her soft red hair, and Willow shut her eyes tightly. She just wanted sympathy, some compassion. Right then she felt closer to Cordy than she had ever done.
Then Willow remembered Angel and looked up. He still shook, on his knees on the top step. Only now, his tears had stopped, and he shook with rage, glaring at a spot on the floor ahead of him, as though he could see Buffy dying right in front of him.
“Why. Didn’t. I. Know.”
Every word trembled with anger and his face hardened with fury, on the verge of vamping out.
Then he glared up at Willow, viciously.
“HOW COULD I NOT KNOW?!” he yelled.
She was right. He blamed himself.
Suddenly, he leapt from the stairs and raced behind the counter. He slammed the office doors shut loudly.
Cordelia pulled away from Willow’s embrace and turned, eyes wide and frightened.
“Angel!” she choked, voice cracked.
All listened to the sounds from the office with tears in their eyes. He screamed out with frustration and rage. They heard tables flying, books being swiped from shelves, heard glass smashing from thrown picture frames and shattered lamps, heard paper ripping, flesh tearing, as he cut at his own chest.
And the almighty sobs of a man who had lost everything.
As a final attempt at easing the pain, the office window cracked, spider-webbed and smashed, as the office chair flew through it, taking the blinds with it, and landing in a heap beside Willow and Cordelia, who jumped back, startled.
Willow looked up distraught, shielding herself from flying glass. Angel stood inside the office, beside the broken window, chest bleeding, eyes icy and cold, chest heaving and aching, staring at the jagged edges of the glass with hatred. He couldn’t kill himself to be with her. If he cut himself now, nothing would happen. He couldn’t take his own life and see her again. If he died now, he’d go straight to hell.
Tears came back to his enraged eyes. He couldn’t help but think that he had been responsible. That he should have been there for her. That whilst he was off gallivanting in Pylea, trying to save Cordelia, he had neglected to save Buffy.
He was frantic, out of control, about to cross the border into Angelus-ville. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t help it. His heart ached with so much pain and distress. He was out of his mind with it. She was gone.
His only love.
Was gone.
Gently, Willow stood, watching his angry expression fade. Cordelia reached out a hand to stop her, but she didn’t take it.
Slowly, keeping her eyes on the distraught vampire, she opened the office door and came into the room. It was a mess, but that didn’t matter.
She came to a stop beside him, inspecting the damage. Then she looked up to him. He would come back. He would turn to her and things would be ok. They would both be ok.
Slowly, he turned his head toward her. She saw his soul screaming. Saw his eyes burning with tears. They spilled onto his cheeks.
“Willow.”
Then they grabbed each other. There was no way they were going to let go. They sank to their knees, holding on fiercely to one another. It was true that, other than Xander and Dawn, they were the two people closest to Buffy’s heart. And all either of them had left.
Clutching to one another, they sobbed wretchedly, as the others gathered and watched on through the broken window.
And despite feeling that he would die without his beloved Slayer, despite feeling that he would never, ever, touch anything with his heart again, for fear of hurting so much, he knew that he would be all right.
There would be another sunrise.
There would be a new day.
But right now, all that mattered,
Was that Buffy would never see it again.
She was gone.
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