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Part 7
“I want to sit at the table,” Buffy said softly. Ever-so-gently Angel lifted her from the wheelchair and set her down in one of the chairs. She clutched at the arms and took a deep, breath looking around one last time. “I love it here. Of all the places in the world, this is home.”
“Of course,” Angel said. She looked at him then, studied him deeply.
“But only when you’re here. Nowhere is home without you Angel,” she told him softly. He knelt beside her and took her hand silently. She put it to his cheek, then looked up, at all the others around them.
“You have all meant so much to me. I could never have done it–any of it–without all of you. We’ve all had our troubles and our differences, but you all stayed anyway, and I can’t thank you enough for that. Even if I had all the time in the world I could never thank you enough. I don’t though, so I’ll just say what I can.
“Cordy, Cordy, Cordy, god knows there have been times I wanted to kill you, but they’ve diminished quite a bit over the years. You always tell the truth, no matter what, and you know your own worth, which is–usually–a good thing. And you love one of my best friends, even though I know you won’t say it out loud. You don’t have to. I know. He does too. See, he’s blushing. Thank you for always being there.” Buffy turned to look at the next . . . Oz.
“No one defines cool like you do, but beneath that ultra-hip–and sometimes strangely wolfish–exterior is one of the best hearts I’ve ever known. Take care of her, Oz. Love her.”
“I will,” he said, glancing over at Willow. The woman in question blushed and looked down at the floor. Buffy smiled softly.
“And you Will, you have to be strong. I know you are inside . . . you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known, you just have to learn to show it on the outside too. And let him in. You need him as much as he needs you. I know. Dying people can see these things. You’ve been the best friend I could ever pray for, even through everything you’ve been through. You were always there for me, no matter what. You even gave me Angel back . . . in every sense of the word,” Buffy said, glancing at her husband with a teasing smile. Then she looked at her best friend and her expression turned serious again. “Thank you.” Willow was crying quietly. Oz took a step towards her, then stopped and she looked at him before looking to Buffy.
“You saved me so many times,” she whispered. Buffy shook her head.
“No. You saved me.” There was a long moment as their eyes met and then Buffy looked to Xander.
“Don’t let Cordy make an honest worker out of you. After all the hard work you put in to being a slacker it just wouldn’t be fair . . .” Xander laughed, though it sounded suspiciously like a sob. Cordelia put her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. He held her tightly. Buffy continued. “You forgave me when I judged too harshly . . . you even gave up your prejudices for me, because I couldn’t stand to see you hate each other. You’ve always been there to make me laugh or make me angry when I need someone to be angry at. Thank you so much for that.” He WAS crying now, truly crying, and so was Cordelia. “I’m glad you found each other. I hope you’re always happy and you have a whole brood of children and they all grow up with their mother’s fashion sense and their father’s laughter.”
“Thank you,” Cordelia said softly.
“I love you Buff,” Xander said.
“I love you too,” Buffy replied. She turned to her mother, who was crying, tears running down her cheeks unchecked.
“Mom . . . I love you so much. Thank you for accepting who I am. Not everyone would have. And thank you for accepting him. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. You’re the best mom in the world. I love you.”
“Why?” Joyce whimpered. “Why?” Buffy managed a small, sad smile. The pain was beginning, was going to overwhelm her soon.
“At least it wasn’t the Slaying, right? At least it was just me in the end.”
“I love you Buffy!” Joyce cried.
“I know. I love you,” Buffy said, and looked to the last one. The one who had gotten her through when no one else could.
“I called the doctor Giles. I made the appointment. I’m all grown up. Responsible, don’t you think? I can behave well. Really. I’m not bubble-brained.”
“I never thought you were,” Giles replied softly. Buffy smiled.
“I know. I know you didn’t. It’s just nice to hear sometimes.”
“You are the best Slayer this world has ever known,” Giles said. Buffy looked at him in suprise.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really. For all the griping I did, you have always been the best. No other has ever survived this long and you . . . if not for the . . .”
“Tumor. You can say it Giles,” she said.
“You would not be dying now. Your have more fire than anyone I have ever known, and that fire gives you an edge, makes you the best.”
“Thank you,” she said. There a short silence and Giles broke it.
“I wouldn’t trade you for a thousand Slayer’s that went by the handbook. No matter how well they fought, or how much they read. No one could ever replace you Buffy, as a Slayer, but more importantly, as a woman. A person. An adult. You are grown-up. All grown-up and going away from me,” Giles said softly.
“Not from you Giles. From the world. For a little while. All Slayer’s come back though, don’t they? All Slayer’s are born again. I will be someday.”
“Yes. Someday,” he said.
“Thank you Giles. I could never . . . I could never even hope for a better Watcher. No one else would put up with me for a year, much less nine. Thank you so much. Without you I wouldn’t have ever truly lived.”
“You would have had less pain though.”
“No pain, no gain, right? I can handle a little pain anyway. And I got so much out of it. I got all of you,” Buffy said, looking around at them all. “I love you. I love all of you.” She took a deep breath, feeling hazy. She still had one more though, the last, the most important.
He was still kneeling beside her. She looked at him, and the rest of the world disappeared. She heard the others leaving discreetly, leaving them alone together. They were always together in the end. Always alone, but with each other and that was what was important, wasn’t it?
“Angel . . . there’s no words,” Buffy whispered. “I don’t know the right ones. I don’t know how to say everything you’ve given me.”
“It doesn’t matter. I know. You’ve given me just as much. More. You loved me even though I was a monster. You saw what I was and you didn’t notice. You didn’t care. You loved me anyway.”
“LOVE you. I DO love you! Now, always. Forever Angel, I’ll love you forever, not matter what happens.” Angel slipped his arms around her and lifted her off the chair into his lap, cradling her softly against him. She whimpered as the pain grew. “It won’t be long now. You’ve made me so happy Angel. You gave me a reason to live, a reason to hope. All these years I wanted to give up, I would have given anything to have a normal life, to sleep at night or party instead of fighting vampires. Except for you. If I had a normal life I wouldn’t ever have known you, and that makes it all worthwhile. I would live a thousand lives as a Slayer for one moment with you.”
“And I would die a thousand times, live a thousand years in torment. Hell wasn’t so bad, knowing you were waiting for me,” Angel whispered, his face close to hers. So very, very close, and yet so far away. He couldn’t save her.
“Nothing ever hurt as much as sending you to Hell. Not even this. Not even now,” Buffy whispered, her face crumbling into tears.
“Forgiven. Long ago. So long ago. I never blamed you. I love you too much for that. You saved the world and if you hadn’t you wouldn’t be you. If you had given up the world for me, we would have hated each other. What you did saved us, and everyone else too. It made me love you more, if that’s possible. If it’s possible to love someone more than I loved you in that moment I saw you again,” Angel told her, his voice aching for the pain he felt course through her. She shivered in his arms.
“Anything is possible Angel. What’s more impossible than a Slayer loving a vampire? Than a vampire loving a Slayer?” Buffy asked, knowing there was no answer and yet everything was an answer.
“Me not loving you,” Angel answered, and her own heart answered back. It was true, the truest thing she knew. Their love was meant to be if anything had ever been. It was fate, destiny, the meeting of souls in every life in every way.
“Do you believe in reincarnation?” she asked softly, then drew in a sharp breath, closing her eyes against the pain.
“Yes. In every life to every soul,” Angel told her. “Why?”
“Because it’s time for me to go. I’ll see you next life. Be good until then,” Buffy said, trying to keep her voice light. He kissed her then, or she kissed him, and in that kiss was a promise of things to come. Of new lives and old ones, of eternal love and souls meeting.
“You are my sunlight. Don’t leave me in the dark,” Angel cried softly.
“I’ll always be with you,” Buffy answered. “I love you. More than anything. Always and forever.”
“I love you,” Angel said, but she was already gone, her eyes slipping closed, the body that he held only a husk of the most alive woman he had ever known. Angel set her down gently, knowing what he must do.
Willow turned as the library doors opened. Angel walked out, tears on his cheeks, in his eyes.
“Angel!” she cried, taking a step toward him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even glance at her, just kept walking. Willow made a little sound and put her hand to her mouth, knowing what had happened. Unable to believe that she was gone.
And then she remembered the sun rising.
“Angel!” Willow screamed, turning to run after him. “Don’t go out there! The sun!” But he didn’t hear her, or he didn’t want to. Giles realized what was going on a second later and soon they were all racing after him. But they weren’t fast enough; Angel was a vampire after all. Willow stopped as he opened the doors and ran outside into the sunlight.
Do you believe in reincarnation?
Yes. If one was dead to be reborn. Unfortunately, undead didn’t count.
His sunlight was gone. Time for the real sun.
Angel opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. He threw off his jacket, opened his arms wide and waited.
Angel felt the sun again.
Angel burned, for all that had come before and all that would come after.
Willow fell to her knees beside what had once been a great man. The sun was warm on her face, almost harshly so, considering what it could do. What it had done.
Gone, both of them. Gone, the one person who had always made her feel safe, no matter what. The girl that had brought her out of her shell, had told her to live and had lived herself, despite the obstacles in her way. Had lived like no one else. Gone, the man that had hurt so much and helped so many. The man that was so gentle, and so strong and had loved so deeply it hurt him time and again and yet he kept loving through it all. Gone, both of them.
And on that sunny morning Willow cried, for all the people they saved that never knew to thank them, for all the people they would have saved, given the chance. For all the people that never even guessed at their existence and never would now. Willow cried because she had lost something irreplaceable, and so had the world.
A hand touched her shoulder and then Willow was safe in his arms, knowing that she couldn’t deny it any longer. If Angel had died for his love, Willow could acknowledge hers. Could let it free. It was the least she could do for Buffy, who had wanted it that way.
In the light of that morning, cold despite the sun overhead–or because of it–Willow let herself be held and mourned, and so did the world, for it had lost the Slayer and a vampire that had a beautiful soul. It had lost Buffy and Angel. And all the world cried.
His presence was a cool breath of air, a shiver in the dark. “You shouldn’t be here,” she murmured. “I told you to be good."
“I was. I am,” he replied, holding her close. “This is for the best. The hard part’s over, my love.”
“Won’t there be others? Other lives as a Slayer? Other lives that are ended too soon?”
“Maybe. Someday. But not this time. Not now. We will have peace first, and each other. I promise.”
“How can you know?” her breath stirred his hair–black as the sky above them. His hand stirred hers–it brushed her shoulders again.
“I know. Can it be worse than that? Has it ever been? That is why we are as we are. Buffy and Angel. The hardest life.”
“But the most fulfilling too. We had happy moments Angel. Such happiness,” Buffy whispered, remembering, knowing all the joy that she had ever known in a moment.
“Waking up together,” he said.
“Every time. You promised.”
“So did you.”
“We’ll always be together, won’t we?”
“Always,” he answered, and the word was a kiss, a promise in that place without light, without dark, without anything but them.
“Our souls are joined,” she whispered, knowing it was truth in that black place between lives.
“Two halves of a whole.”
“Always,” she said.
“Always,” he affirmed.
“I love you.”
“Always.” And the darkness was light and the light was darkness and they were together and that was what mattered.
I don't have any real experience with brain tumors, and I'm really sorry if I got any details wrong or anything like that. In fact, I'm sure I got a lot wrong, like symptoms and tests and stuff. If anyone wants to tell me what it would really be like, that'd be much appreciated. Otherwise, I'm sorry if I got stuff wrong, but it's just a story. Secondly, I *really* love comments and would love you to write me and tell me what you thought! felicity_rose@hotmail.com