Strangers
She was there when I woke up. That in and of itself isn’t all that unusual; I often dream of her lying in my bed. Usually when that happens I see her as she was on that night that never existed. That peaceful, content look she had as she slept is something that I will never forget. But tonight it wasn’t like that. Instead, she was standing in the doorway of my room, brow slightly furrowed.
“Buffy?” My sleep addled mind began to fuzzily grasp the concept that this wasn’t a dream. “How long have you been here?”
She offered a small smile. “Not long. A few minutes, maybe. I just didn’t want to wake you.”
I grabbed my shirt from the bedpost and shrugged into it as quickly as possible. Not that I have anything she’s never seen before, but the last thing we need right now is to tempt the fates. “What are you doing in L.A.?”
“Drusilla.” That one word caught my full attention. “She arrived in Sunnydale on a train from L.A. a few days ago.”
“Casualties?”
Buffy just nodded. “She told Spike about everything that’s been going on here, so when she left I thought I should call and give you the head’s up. Only when I called I got a message saying the
phone for the office had been disconnected. So I called Cordelia at home ....”
I sat back down on the edge of the bed. “And she told you what’s been happening here.”
“Some of it,” Buffy shifted her glance down to the floor. “They filled me on the rest when I went to see Wesley at the hospital.”
“How’s he doing?” I hated not being able to go and see for myself, but as Cordelia so eloquently put it the last time I tried, they don’t need me. And she was right. They are better off without me.
“He’ll be alright,” she was still staring at the floorboards as if the meaning of life was hidden between them. “He’s out of ICU now, but it’ll probably be a few more days before they let him
go home.”
Silence descended. Time is so strange. It used to be that when I was with her the time flew right by, and now each second feels like an eternity in and of itself. Finally she crossed the room and took a seat in the over-stuffed easy chair beside the bed. “Angel, they’re worried about you.” She paused before continuing. “I’m worried about you.”
Her hair cascaded down over her shoulders as she leaned toward me, reminding me of the first time I ever saw her. Buffy had been so innocent then, waving to her friends as she sucked on that ridiculous lollipop. Her hair had been longer then, only a little longer than it was now. Had I really been gone that long?
The flood of repressed emotions and memories surprised me, and I lashed out.. “What would your boyfriend do if he knew you said that to me?” As soon as the words were out I regretted them. How can I have lived so long without learning not to let my mouth run ahead of my brain?
The expression that crossed her face at the mention of that name sent the knife of regret even deeper into un-beating heart. Something had happened between them. “Riley went back to the
military.”
I knew better than to push further than that. I reached out to touch her hand. “Look, I’m ...”
“Forget about it.” Buffy mumbled as she pulled away, leaning back in the chair. I had ruined things again. I seem to be getting pretty good at that, these days.
After a moment, Buffy broke the silence again. “I’m sorry. About Darla. I know how hard it was the first time you had to ...”
“Kill her?” I stood up and began to pace the length of the room. “You can say it, you know. I won’t go crazy because you said the K word.”
Buffy stood. “No, I’m not afraid I’ll drive you crazy. I think you’re already half-way there.”
“Imagine that!” I threw my hands up in the air. This was all beginning to sound very familiar. “In case they left out this part of the story, I’ve got an entire law firm being *paid* to do
that.”
“I know about the lawyers.” Buffy was yelling now. “I know about the tricks. I know about how they gave Darla to you and then took her away again. But I also know you. And I know that you
can ...”
I turned mid-stride and caught her by the arm. “No you don’t! Not anymore. You don’t know me any better than Gunn, or Wesley, or Cordelia knows me. You can’t know me because even I don’t know me anymore! All I know is that Darla is here and it’s my responsibility to take care of her.”
“Why?” Buffy wrenched her arm free from my grasp, and I could see red marks where my fingers had pressed into her skin. “Why is it your responsibility? Is this your atonement? Your
way of punishing yourself? Where does it say that you have to go up against this without help?”
I pointed toward my chest. “Right here. Because I care about them too much to let them get stuck in my mess. And because there are people that they can help. I can’t do that any more! I
just can’t.”
And suddenly it was quiet again. Buffy’s eyes looked into mine, and I could tell she was searching for the Angel that she knew. I felt like shaking her and showing her that he doesn’t live here anymore ... but I knew she could see that for herself. The look in her eyes was almost the same look I remember from being Angelus. One of utter disbelief. But this time there was something else there as well. Something I couldn’t quite read. I can’t remember the last time I looked at her and didn’t know what she was thinking.
Without a word she turned and walked out the way she came in. At the doorway she paused, and turned to look at me one last time. I half expected her to say something like “Call me if you
change your mind,” but she didn’t. She just turned and left.
I guess we’ve both changed more than we realized.
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