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Longing

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Every moment marked with apparitions of your soul I’m ever swiftly moving trying to escape this desire The yearning to be near you I do what I have to do I have the sense to recognize that I don’t know how to let you go I don’t know how to let you go A glowing ember burning hot, burning slow Deep within I’m shaken by the violence of existing for only you I know I can’t be with you I do what I have to do I know I can’t be with you I do what I have to do And I have the sense to recognize that I don’t know how to let you go.

*********************** Buffy:

I woke up screaming last night. I’m sure I almost gave Riley a heart attack. He jumped out of the bed and started searching frantically for whatever evil had attacked me. When I told him it was just a dream, I could tell he didn’t believe me but what could I say? I know he wouldn’t understand.

It’s gotten worse lately. This emptiness. Ever since the last time I saw HIM, since I tried to convince HIM that I’d moved on.

I’m trying to move on.

The nightmares are a new development and they’re becoming more frequent. I can’t tell if they are premonitions or just my soul’s deepest fears. Either way, they are always the same thing over and over, only now they are getting more vivid, more painful. Angel in trouble, Angel in pain, and me always just standing there staring dumbly at him watching him suffer, and lately watching him die. Last night was the worst yet. Last night I killed him again. I sent him to Hell again, but this time it wasn’t to save the world, this time it was out of spite.

The memory of it haunts me, sending razor sharp chills through my bones.

It isn’t fair to Riley. He doesn’t say anything but I know he can tell. He can see it in my eyes sometimes whenever we are close. Whenever he touches me and my body responds but my heart and soul cry out in protest this look passes over his eyes. It’s only for a second but it’s there just the same. I fear that he can sense that it’s empty. He might get to possess this body but its heart, mind and soul still reside with another.

He asked me about it once about a week ago. He asked me if I was comfortable with him. How can I look him the eye and try and reassure him when I can’t even convince myself? He wondered if my reticence was because of Parker. He was so concerned about me, like I would break if he wasn’t gentle with me. How can you break what’s already permanently shattered?

We don't talk about Angel. Ever. It makes things easier. Riley can pretend that he doesn't know that I am still in love with him and I don't have to face the reality that I am. We have this nice safe arrangement precariously balanced on a strong foundation of denial. It works. For now. But I can tell that things are changing. Especially in light of my recent tendency to jar him from his sleep with blood curdling screams of terror in the middle of the night. He looks almost as bad as I do.

Almost.

When I wake in the morning and feel his arms around me it causes the gnawing ache in the hollow of my chest to expand and the emptiness swells to engulf me. I’ve stopped trying to fight it. It’s the only thing I can feel any more.

I always tell myself that tomorrow it will be better. That with time it will get easier. Easier to forget and easier to feel. But that tomorrow never comes and instead I face yet another interminable day filled with constant reminders of his presence and the plaguing numbness that resides where my heart used to live. Maybe if I repeat it enough I will somehow start to believe it. Somehow trick my soul into believing that it was ever complete without his.

Somehow I doubt it.

So each day I put on the ‘happy well-adjusted Buffy face’ and confront the world. I know that to the casual observer it would seem that my life is pretty great. Just started college, have a solid group of friends, loving family, and an attractive reliable boyfriend and not to mention challenging extracurricular activities. What more could a girl want? Believe me I ask myself the same thing everyday. And everyday the answer is the same. I want HIM.

It’s pathetic I know it. What kind of girl mopes around about a guy who walked away from her? Okay, most girls. Bad example. My point is that I know that I shouldn’t. My head knows better but my heart is stubborn. I feel like a walking mass of contradictions - two Buffys fighting it out for control of my traitorous body.

This morning I woke up late an hour and a half because I was up most of the night diffusing a nasty vamp situation no thanks to Spike who just antagonized things keeping me there much longer than I should have been.

When I managed to climb out of bed I felt completely drained, my head was screaming in protest, and Slayer abilities or not, I don’t think there was enough aspirin in that bottle to quell the pounding of the blood through the veins in my temples. I managed to emerge half-conscious from the shower and stumble into some clothing. I missed my first class and opted instead for lunch since it was time for it anyway.

As I dragged my tired body to the cafeteria, I suddenly realized that my stomach was definitely still asleep and was in no condition to weather the gastric torture that is the UC Sunnydale cafeteria fare.

Instead I find an empty table outside in the shade. It's appropriate, as I can't seem to muster the desire to care about sunlight. I don’t deserve the sunshine. It’s too happy and self-assured. I spend half my life wandering in the dark, fighting against things that most people don’t even believe exist. Darkness fits my mood.

I reluctantly pull out my history text in a half-hearted attempt to catch up in my reading. It isn’t working. History just doesn’t have the interest factor going for it today. Giles would frown at me. I can’t think.

I need to think.

I'm sitting here trying desperately to concentrate, to focus on anything but the lingering feeling that these recent nightmares are more than just products of my regret-laden conscience. I am failing miserably. I can't shake the nagging sensation that has been assaulting my insides all morning and is growing more insistent with every breath practically screaming that he needs me. I enter into a battle of wills with my stomach trying in vain to force it to comply with my self- deluded version of reality. The version where he doesn't need me, where nothing has changed despite my fervent desire to have it otherwise. We live in two separate worlds! I scream inside my head. We are strangers to each other now. Shadows of something that burned itself out so long ago.

Why do I even bother?

While I am sitting here trying frantically to regain some measure of control over my ever-rebelling mind, Willow arrives cheerily at the table. One glance at my glum countenance though and she switches immediately into worry face, frown lines spreading across her features. As if my broodiness automatically has to be Angel-centered.

As if it were ever otherwise.

I love my best friend dearly but I know that she won't understand. She doesn't even pretend to anymore. She likes Riley, she's pulling for him and I can't say that I blame her much. It's understandable that one would want to see their friend in a sane healthy relationship where both of the parties involved are actually living, but whoever said that we get the choice? I mean honestly, here I sit fighting a battle within myself over something that I have no control over. He's in L.A. I'm in Sunnydale. He's 247 years old and I'm 19. He's undead and I'm alive. He's a vampire with a soul and I'm the vampire slayer. So you see rational isn't an option that was ever available to me to begin with.

I shake myself from the clutches of my internal conflict and force my attention on Willow who has now seated herself across from me.

"Hey Will, what's up?" I say, trying to mask the exhaustion in my voice.

"Nothing. You missed Peterson's sociology lecture this morning. We had a pop quiz on the 5 characteristics of a true society. I don't think anyone had done the reading though so you might actually do better having missed it than the rest of the class that was there." She paused as she took a sip of her coke. "Did you oversleep?" She looks at me with an appropriate level of concern for my outward appearance.

"Yeah, the alarm didn't go off, not that I got enough sleep last night as it was." I sighed.

She would be happy to hear that I'd been with Riley. True to form she brightened a shade.

"Rough night slaying?"

"Yeah, I found myself an unwitting participant in a wild goose chase with Spike and then party to a mediation between demons, if you can believe it. I didn't get in until late and now that I think about it more, I'm getting the feeling that the alarm just didn't go off, but that someone turned it off so that I could sleep."

Argh!! I know that I should think that it was sweet and considerate that Riley would do that for me but in actuality it only served to piss me off. Always assuming that he knows what's best for me. Why is it that I always seem to attract men that think they know better than I do about what I need?

I could tell from Willow's reaction she thought it was a sweet gesture and I honestly didn't have the strength to argue with her about it. So I changed the subject.

"So what's the big plan for this weekend? I heard Xander mention something about camping, was he serious?"

Because I am seriously in need of a vacation from my life.

"I don't know, we uh, we could check with him. I guess. I mean camping? On the Hellmouth?” Willow stammered.

“Wouldn’t be an adventure otherwise.” Riley made his presence known as he slid onto the bench next to me and planted an unsolicited kiss on my cheek.

Willow brightened with Riley’s appearance at our table while I struggled to maintain an even keel. What is wrong with me?

I should have gone to the library. No one ever goes to the library.

I sat there silently while Willow and Riley traded friendly chatter like they’d known each other for years instead of months. Had I ever had a conversation with Riley that lasted this long? I couldn’t recall. What could they possibly have to talk about that was this interesting?

I didn’t get any farther in my pitiful attempt at self-examination as I started to feel dizzy and everything suddenly went black. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital.

How is that for making the best of a bad situation?

When I returned to the land of the conscious I found myself the proud recipient of the world’s most agonizing headache. I groaned in protest at whatever sadist had decided not to give me morphine. I swear a migraine would have been a nice relief.

I squinted to check my surroundings, hoping that I was in darkness. The very thought of the glare of the typical hospital lighting made me cringe and the pain seared through my temples in response. It seemed dim in the room so I ventured a look. I had a really difficult time opening my eyes and it turned out ironically that the best I could manage was a squint of sorts.

From what I could make out, the room looked normal enough. Big, clunky hospital bed complete with starched white sheets which could have doubled as sand paper, safety rails and remote control, four stark white walls hung unevenly with bad reproductions of nature photography, ancient T.V. mounted in the corner, nightstand mounted by the bed, polyester curtains drawn tight against the window and three doors in the opposite wall – exit, closet and bathroom I assume.

Once I had surveyed my surroundings I turned my attention to myself. As one would expect when one suddenly finds themselves in the hospital, I had various tubes and wires attached to my body. No shocker there, but what I couldn’t quite figure out was what exactly I was doing in here. Nothing felt broken or even bruised and I knew I could feel pain, the throbbing in my head was testimony to my unfortunate sober state, but why did I feel so…funny?

I tried to sit up but couldn’t seem to move. Opening my eyes had taken supreme effort. My entire body seemed to be weighted down but I could distinctly feel nothing heavier than the rough sheet draped over me.

This is ridiculous! I never get sick, and even if I’m injured my happy rapid healing abilities should have kicked in by now.

As I lay there furiously going over the various scenarios that could account for my current situation in my head, I heard voices in the hall outside. The door clicked and a second later I heard an unknown man’s voice that was speaking with someone familiar. It took me a second to place the other voice as that belonging to my mother. They came to stand by the edge of my bed and spoke in hushed tones allowing me to comprehend only snippets of what was discussed.

"Is she going to be okay Dr Hansen?" The quiver in my mother's voice betrayed her anxiety.

"It's hard to say at this point Mrs. Summers. Medically speaking your daughter is fine, maybe a little undernourished but otherwise all tests show that she is a healthy 19 year old." He paused as my mom interrupted him.

"She's fine? Are you kidding me? Look at her! She looks terrible. She's so pale!" She was quickly losing her patience with him, as was I.

I mean what exactly was going on here? If I'm perfectly healthy why can't I seem to move? Why do I feel so empty and worn on the inside? Undernourished! Was he kidding? Physically I was in the best shape of my life. Although it did suddenly occur to me that I couldn’t recall the last time I actually ate anything. I groaned as pain shot through my head. Too much thinking, not enough sleep.

It was a major effort straining to hear the doctor and my mom, but by far the most troubling aspect of their entire conversation was the fact that they were standing less than a foot away from me and acting as if I wasn't here.

Wasn't I awake just a second ago? I struggled to move, to open my eyes, to give some sign that I was alert and could hear them but all my exertion didn’t seem to produce much response on the part of my body and they continued on without so much as a nod in my direction.

This cannot be good.

"There's something that you are not telling me. What is it? What's wrong with my baby?"

Uh-oh, she's entering frantic mode.

"I honestly don't know Mrs. Summers. We're doing everything we can for her at the moment. It's quite possible that once we get some more fluids in her she will respond. At this point it's just a matter of waiting to see if she exhibits any other symptoms that we can work with. I promise I will keep you updated on Buffy's progress. If you'll excuse me I have some other duties to attend to."

I could hear him hastily make his awkward exit as my mom sighed and settled herself in a chair to the left of the bed.

It was quiet except for the steady beeping of the monitors and all the stillness was starting to alarm me. Why can't I wake up? What happened?

Various Hellmouth related scenarios rapidly played through my mind but nothing seemed to fit. My labored thoughts were interrupted with the arrival of more visitors to my room.

"Joyce? Did you speak with the doctor?" Giles sounded panic stricken as well.

When Giles was unnerved by a situation it definitely did not bode well.

"Yes, and they have nothing new to tell me. Buffy's fine they say. She just needs some rest and some fluids and then she'll be good as new. They're actually pretty good at repeating the same useless information but what they can't seem to tell me is why my previously healthy 19 year old daughter is laying here practically comatose!"

I tried to protest, to sit up and tell them that I was okay but it was all effort no results and I was starting to exhaust myself. I could feel myself slipping back into sleep. It seemed like such an easy thing to do. To rest, to let go and forget about everything that I had been struggling with lately. I just need a little nap, then maybe I can wake up from this nightmare, find myself safe in my bed and can chalk this little episode up to the stress of battling the forces of darkness by night and enduring the rigors of college by day.

The last thing I heard before acquiescing to the relentless tug of total unconsciousness was the sound of Riley speaking to my mother. I couldn't make out what was said and I didn't care to exert the effort to listen. I would worry about it later...

******************* Angel:

I knew that something was dreadfully wrong even before the phone rang. I had this unrelenting gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. It had been my uninvited constant companion for the past week or so but today it was nearly unbearable. I couldn’t concentrate, I had run out of things to do in the office and Cordelia threatened to stake me more that once to keep me out of her way. I know I was more of an annoyance than a help but I couldn't stand it. I had to do something, anything to keep my mind off of HER and the persistent feeling that she needed me. I couldn't sit still, so I hovered.

The phone rang and I practically knocked Cordelia over to get to it I was wound so tensely with apprehension, but she beat me to it anyway.

"Angel Investigations, we help the helpless. This is Cordelia, how can I help you? Oh Willow, hey, yeah...what? Buffy? What happened? Sure, he's right here…"

At the mention of Buffy's name, the gnawing sensation in my gut lurched up and lodged in my throat. I could barely get the words out.

"What...what's wrong? Is Buffy alright?"

I couldn't think. I needed to think. I was having a hard enough time recognizing single words much less comprehending what it was that Willow was trying to tell me. I managed to wrap my mind around enough to make out "Buffy" and "hospital" and the rest was just one gigantic tangle of unintelligible syllables as far as my head was concerned.

After thanking Willow for calling me I entrusted the phone into Cordelia's care for her to get the details and had to sit down before the heaviness that had begun to surround me forced me to the floor.

Buffy is hurt.

It wasn't computing in my mind though my heart had known that something was wrong. I knew she wasn't dead. That much I knew for certain, I would have felt it. I tried to reassure myself with the knowledge that whatever had happened she was still alive, still with us if only just barely. It wasn't exactly as comforting as I had hoped but at least it was something.

I waited for what seemed like an eternity for Cordelia to get the rest of the information from Willow and hang up the phone.

Willow.

Things must be worse than I feared if Willow actually felt the need to call me. I knew how she felt about me, at least in light of my having anything to do with Buffy, and I can't say that I blame her.

Every nerve ending in my body was on edge as Cordelia finally hung up the phone and turned to face me.

I prepared myself for the worst, it seemed like it was always bad news that greeted Buffy and I. I studied Cordy’s features as she began to speak, hungrily absorbing any clue as to what was going on with Buffy.

“She’s uh, in the hospital and they, the doctors I mean, they don’t know what’s wrong. Willow said one moment she was sitting across from her at the table the next she was falling backwards onto the ground nearly cracking her head open on a tree trunk. Willow said…”

She stopped talking, hesitating. I could tell she was trying to spare me but I had to know.

“Willow said what? Willow said what Cordy!”

“She said Buffy hasn’t regained consciousness yet and they don’t know if she will.” She finished quickly and leaned awkwardly against the counter, anxiously awaiting my reaction.

In response I grabbed my coat and my keys in one motion and she had to run to catch up with me as I hit the door.

We rode in silence and I nearly lost control of the car more than once on sharp curves. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now except her. If Cordy was the least bit worried about my manic driving she wisely kept quiet about it.

I should have been there. It’s my fault. She’s alone and she’s hurting and it’s my fault. I silently cursed myself for being so foolish and so stubborn. I knew it! I knew it! I knew that something was wrong but I had forced myself to stay in L.A., to ignore the urgent tugging in my spirit to go to her. Instead I allowed the memories of what happened the last time I gave into my emotions and returned to Sunnydale to stop me from going. I talked my self out of it, rationalized and justified it to myself and still the feeling persisted.

I have no idea how we made it to Sunnydale. I honestly have no recollection of the last half of the drive. We reached the hospital and I steered the car into a handicapped space by the sliding double glass doors, ignoring Cordelia’s protests and throwing her the keys to move the car if it bothered her so badly. I had more important things to attend to.

I passed through the doors and steadied myself. I had to be careful, it was well past visiting hours by now and there was no need to draw attention to myself. Cordy hadn’t mentioned what room they had Buffy in but it didn’t matter, I could find her if I were deaf, dumb and blind.

I made my way down the maze of sterile hallways bathed in cold fluorescent glare toward the ICU. As I turned the last corner it hit me - that familiar shiver that resonated throughout my entire being whenever she was near. I quickened my pace and with each step the raw tension that had been tying my soul in knots eased and a strange peace began to settle in its place. I paused outside her door. Here I was and there she was, and all that separated us was a few inches of wood and a million years of desire and regret. I quickly glanced over in the direction of the waiting area and that is when I saw them.

They were all here, waiting anxiously for news. All her friends huddled together supporting each other, as she lay alone in this room. Giles seated next to Joyce silently comforting her. Willow and Xander looking tired and speaking quietly. Somehow it was a comforting sight. Despite my personal feelings toward him I knew that Xander was nothing if not fiercely loyal. There were some new faces as well, ones I didn’t immediately recognize, college friends I hoped. It was then that my eyes fell upon the one person I didn’t care to see.

Riley Finn.

He was seated at the edge of a couch, away from the others. He looked exhausted. He just sat there staring dejectedly at the ground. My attention was drawn from him before I could read his emotions as I heard a shocked gasp and I quickly scanned the room for its source. My eyes landed on Giles and Joyce. Both were staring slack jawed at me, their eyes not moving from my place by the door as their brains struggled to register the sight they beheld. I’m sure I’m the last person on earth they want to see right now. I hold their gaze, daring them to challenge me, to protest and instead am taken aback when they both nod their approval to me. It was almost imperceptible and I would have missed it had I not seen the looks in their eyes as they did so. I take that as my cue and turn back to face the door.

As I push open the door my senses are overcome by her smell, so sweet, so pure. It surrounds me, intoxicates me and makes me cry out with need as the yearning in my heart that I had held at bay for so long painfully surfaces in her presence.

She is everything that is good, right, and true in this world and now she is here - so small and so alone.

I hesitantly approach the bed and pause at the foot looking down at her. She seems so fragile tucked under the layers of sheets and blankets, so much like the girl she was when I first saw her. When I first loved her.

I watch her lying there so still. If anyone were to pass by they would think that she was just sleeping peacefully.

I drink in her features, every line of her beautiful face. Yes, she does seem to be sleeping, but not peacefully. No, not even close. Her eyes are ringed with deep dark circles and the more I study her face the sharper the fear that is caught in my throat becomes. I can see the pain etched into her features, plaguing her even in unconsciousness.

I slowly walk a path around to the side of the bed and tentatively reach out and take her tiny hand in mine. Oh God, she is so cold. Her hand is like ice in my grasp, and it causes a shiver to run through me.

I look down at the face of my beloved and am overcome with agony at her broken form lying motionless in the bed. I lean in and softly brush a kiss across her forehead. She does not stir. Grief and regret wash over me in waves and I cannot help but feel that this is my doing. Her suffering as a result of my stubborn choices, my bad decisions. As I watched her lie there so helpless, so lost, taunting words from that stolen day so long ago surfaced in my mind. Together you were strong.

No, together we are strong. She needs me.

Suddenly it all became clear to me, and I understood. I recognized the ache that has been plaguing my soul these past months for what it was. The hollowness and need.

Longing.

Longing slowly eating away at the both of us, longing for my true mate. My soul screaming from its very depths for its other half that was torn from its side so long ago by my stupidity.

I glance down at the pain so evident on her face and know that I am to blame for this. But not anymore. Not now. Just being in the same room with her has breathed new life into my body and the dull pain that has been my affliction has eased.

She needs me, and I need her.

I have not released her hand from my own and even though she is less than a foot away from me, it is too far. The urge to be near her, to feel her is too strong and I do not want to fight it. If the depths of Hell could not separate us, nothing on this earth will.

I release her hand only for the second it takes for me to remove my coat and climb into the bed next to her. I position myself beside her unmoving form and wrap my arms around her tiny frame. Her body collapses into my arms and I stroke her hair, her face. I fight the urge to sob, to wail at the loss of such innocence. Instead I fight to compose myself and lean into to whisper my heart to her.

I murmur rapidly, unconsciously slipping into Gaelic as the emotion takes over, my voice a tumultuous mixture of fear, pain and love. I close my eyes against the tears that are starting to surface, starting to burn as they trail down my face. I clutch her body to mine as my voice is choked by the ragged sobs that are released in the wake of my tears. I press my face into her hair and breathe her into me, wanting to hold onto her, onto this moment.

My mind is racing, memories assaulting me as my body remembers hers, as the gaping hole in my spirit is filled in her presence. I hold onto her for dear life, crying uncontrollably for our past, for the lost time, for my mistakes. I want to make it up to her. I have to.

Slowly the intensity of the sobs dwindles and I tenderly wrap myself around her body. I am exhausted. I gently rest my chin on the crown of her head and can feel her labored breathing against my neck. It is like Heaven to me.

I softly whisper, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Over and over into her golden hair. The words are like a prayer to my soul.

I can feel myself drifting off to sleep. I fight a losing battle with my traitorous eyelids and eventually relent as slumber descends upon me. It has been so long since I truly rested my body cannot fight back.

“I love you Buffy.”

********************** Buffy:

If I had known what would happen when I let myself fall back into that deep sleep, I would have never let go so easily.

As the murmur of the voices in the room died away I found myself sitting alone, completely surrounded by blackness.

I sat clutching my knees to my chest and rocking back and forth trying to maintain my thin hold on sanity. As I languished in the nothingness where I suddenly found myself, the cold empty ache that had become my constant companion of late settled over me like a fog. I could feel the familiar pain creep its way up from my stomach to lodge in my chest and I stifled the sobs that accompanied it. I felt completely drained. Exhausted. I struggled to wipe the tears and the pain from my eyes but they just kept coming.

I screamed in agony, the sound echoing in my head causing the searing pain that had momentarily subsided to come rushing back, settling itself in my temples and making me wish my head would just explode so that I could be free from this.

I managed to regain enough composure to breathe normally. I had to be dreaming. Somehow I knew I was asleep…but why did this feel so real?

The cold numbness that stung my skin as it swirled around my body was starting to unnerve me. I closed my eyes and tried to picture myself somewhere else, some place safe and warm. I concentrated hard focusing all my effort on achieving such an irrational aim.

When I dared open my eyes once more I was relieved to find myself sitting Indian style in the center of the bed in my room at home. At least it seemed like my room, only there were no walls, no windows and no ceiling. It didn’t matter just being among such familiar objects was comforting enough.

I sat in silence trying to force myself to wake up, to sit up, anything to release the pressure that assaulted my head and the tension that swirled in my chest.

It was while I was just sitting there that I first heard it.

A faint whisper that floated through the air like a breeze.

At first I thought I must be hallucinating, my current physical state further degenerating as I lost all hold on reality and sanity. But I heard it again and again and it was stronger, more audible.

I heard it and my soul responded.

Angel.

His voice surrounded me, bathing me in comfort and love. His words gave me strength. I could hear his heart speaking to mine and I wanted desperately to go to him, to hold onto him and never let go, but I couldn’t find him.

I searched everywhere and no matter how hard I tried I was still alone in that place with his voice ringing in my ears, speaking to my soul.

I closed my eyes and absorbed his words like food, like a prayer. I could feel the cold starting to recede and warmth was filling me from the inside. I smiled as I heard the words I so longed to hear.

“I love you Buffy.” The words rang out like church bells through my head calling me home.

I felt something stir beside me and when I opened my eyes I beheld a sight that made me cry out with joy.

Angel sat across from me on the bed smiling that gentle smile. I rapidly checked my surroundings and was disappointed to find that I was somehow still in that limbo land between sleep and waking but it didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered now that he was here.

I threw myself into him and he wrapped his strong arms around me and held on tight softly whispering to me.

I couldn’t hear what he said over the sound of my heart beat racing through my veins and it took me a while to calm down enough to comprehend.

He was saying the same thing over and over, urging me to listen, wanting me to comply. I could sense the edge in his voice and that is when I realized what was really happening as the gravity of my situation hit me full force.

“Wake up Buffy. You have to wake up. Wake up Buffy.”

The soft cadence of his words soothed me and I snuggled into him listening to the muffled reverberations of the words in his chest as he spoke. He grabbed me by the arms and shook me, trying to get me to concentrate, to respond to him.

I trailed my eyes up to his beautiful face.

“I can’t Angel. I’m so sorry. I tried. I tried to do what you said, I tried to move on but I couldn’t do it and it was killing me. I waited for you. I waited for so long and you never came. I’m so tired Angel. So cold and so tired.”

I wanted to go back to sleep, to rest in his arms and never wake up.

“No! Buffy you have to wake up, don’t go to sleep!”

I heard his words start to fade as the cold and the darkness slipped back in.

So tired.

“I’m here now Buffy. I came back for you. I’m right here next to you all you have to do is wake up darling. Wake up Buffy!! Don’t leave me! I love you! I need you! Please!”

He was frantically shaking me but I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.

“God! Buffy I’m sorry, so sorry! I was wrong, I need you, please.”

I could still hear his voice and as it resonated against my body something inside of me answered. Something snapped and grabbed hold of that need that I had tried to push into the depths of my being.

“I need you too.”

As soon as my lips uttered those words I felt myself rushing upward at a rapid pace. My entire body felt light and my head spun in response to the speed.

I sat straight up in the hospital bed gasping for air. It took a moment for my eyes to be able to focus in the dark and when they adjusted I glanced down at the bed to my left. Angel lay sleeping softly next to me. He was here.

It was real.

Relief washed over my tired body in waves as I gently lay back down not wanting to disturb him. I turned toward him, studying his face as if it was the first time I’d ever seen it. His beautiful chin framed by a strong jaw. Those perfect lips. I reached my finger out and softly traced the outline of his mouth. The feel of his skin against mine made me cry out in pain as my body responded to the sudden nearness of him. I focused my gaze on his eyes and that is when I noticed them. The tears. They were slowly streaming down his cheeks as he slept. Each one leaving a trail of sorrow in its wake.

I reached up and gently wiped each one away as it fell and he stirred in response. His eyes fluttered open and I knew he could see me in the darkness as a smile played its way across his mouth and his eyes brightened. His arms pulled me tightly into his body, crushing me against his chest.

“Buffy, oh God Buffy. I thought I lost you.” He murmured into my hair.

The sound of his voice, his real voice, caused the walls I constructed long ago within my heart to keep me strong, to keep from feeling, to shatter and I sobbed great big heaving sobs of pain, of relief, of joy…of release. I clung to him as I wept and he wrapped me carefully in his strong embrace.

When I had exhausted my tears I sank into his body content to have him so near me. It was quiet in the room only the beating of my heart accompanied by the corresponding beeps of the monitors interrupted the stillness. My breathing slowed as he softly rubbed my back. I never wanted him to let go of me.

I sighed and realized for the first time in an eternity that I felt whole. The nagging emptiness that had plagued me for so long was suddenly gone and replaced by a sense of peace.

“I love you Angel.”

****************** Angel:

The moment I drifted into sleep I felt myself being pulled into an abyss. I could still see clearly and I immediately found her, so small, so scared and so alone huddled in a ball on that bed. I wanted to reach out and touch her but I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. I could hear her thoughts and that is when I realized that I was inside her. Rather I was in her mind, her soul or somewhere completely different I couldn’t tell, but I could sense the despair that was holding her here.

I needed to get to her, to reach her…to get her to wake up before it was too late.

I made my way over to sit across from her and as I settled my weight on the edge of the bed she opened her eyes and saw me. I couldn’t help but smile. She was beautiful. Before I could say anything she heaved herself into my arms. She felt so real, so warm. I could hear her heart beating rapidly, the soothing rhythm causing my long dead heart to clench in my chest.

As I held onto her I almost forgot where I was and why I was here. It took every ounce of strength within me to focus on reaching her, to detach myself from what was happening in front of me before she pulled me into her and we both perished here.

I forced my mouth to form the words and could only manage to muster the effort it required to whisper my fervent prayer.

“Wake up Buffy. You have to wake up. Wake up Buffy.”

I hoped it was enough.

She wasn’t responding and fear gripped me. I shook her, trying to rouse her from her stupor. She looked up at me and uttered those words that shattered my heart into a thousand shameful bits.

“I can’t Angel. I’m so sorry. I tried. I tried to do what you said, I tried to move on but I couldn’t do it and it was killing me. I waited for you. I waited for so long and you never came. I’m so tired Angel. So cold and so tired.”

She collapsed against me and terror seized my soul. I was losing her right here in my arms. I could feel her yet she was slipping away. I had to do something. Anything. I was frantic.

“No! Buffy you have to wake up, don’t go to sleep! I’m here now Buffy. I came back for you. I’m right here next to you all you have to do is wake up darling. Wake up Buffy!! Don’t leave me! I love you! I need you! Please!”

I was struggling to stifle the wail of sorrow that was threatening to surface as she sagged into sleep. I started to shake her madly.

“God! Buffy I’m sorry, so sorry! I was wrong, I need you, please.”

When she didn’t respond I was at the very depths of despair. Any hope that had been kindled at her presence was on the verge of dying out. I choked on a sob and as I rasped in an unneeded breath I heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

Her voice.

Her voice answering me, bringing me back from the edge of hopelessness and pain. I heard her life come rushing back inside her as she looked at me.

“I need you too.”

I lost it in that moment. My eyes brimmed over with tears of joy, the outward evidence of my soul’s contentment.

The next thing I knew I could feel her breath on my face and the gentle sensation of her skin on my cheek. I open my eyes and she is there to greet me. Awake and alive and…whole.

I can’t help but smile at her, my beloved come back to me. The single light in my dark existence. I can sense how tired she is, this has taken its toll on me as well, but nothing in Heaven or Hell could tear me from her in this moment.

I can’t bear the few inches of distance that separate us and I pull her close to me, burying my face in her hair, inhaling her, all of her. She’s back and she’s okay. Relief courses through my veins as the realization of what I’d just done suddenly strikes me.

“Buffy, oh God Buffy. I thought I lost you.”

She does not respond immediately but I swear I can feel something shift inside her. A softening. Before I can even ask her about it she is clinging to me as sobs wrack her tired body.

I hold onto her as she cries tears that have been pent up for far too long. All the pain, all the regret, all the anger pours out of her tiny body and I gladly take it from her. I’d bear it all if it meant she could have a moment of peace.

I softly whisper how much I love her, gently stroking her back as she sniffles and the tears slow. Her breathing steadies and she settles into me.

I need this woman like mortals need air or water. She is a part of me. Her blood runs in my veins and I swear that her essence invades every cell in my body. It seems so long ago that I was able to hold her like this. Such a simple act with such a heavy price. But none of that matters now. Nothing matters now as I lay here with my soul’s true mate bathed in the beauty of her love and acceptance, content in the knowledge that my heart has returned to its rightful home.

All is as it should be. I close my eyes and whisper the words I know now are the most important of all.

“I love you Buffy, and I’ll never leave you again.”