Title: Amends….Not So Much
Summary: Takes place during the ending scene of Amends. A possible cause for the Magic Snow.
Disclaimer: Not mine – and right now I’m not sure I’d claim it, either.
Notes: Once I got this in my head, it wouldn’t let go until I wrote it. Canon pairings portrayed. So very not beta'd. Any mistakes are mine.
Angel grips her arms, frustration making his words harsh, his hands like a vice.
He’s finally man enough to do what she couldn’t. To do the right thing.
To save her, and rid the world of the stain of his existence.
He’s tired of having his face rubbed in shit. Tired of the guilt that ate at him like an insatiable monster, tired of the beast in his skin that whispered for him to kill, kill her.
She just needs to let it go, to understand that even her love isn’t enough to wipe out a hundred and fifty years of gleeful evil. He thought it was once; he sunk into that false hope like a starving man.
And didn’t she pay for it? Over and over, in tears, in the blood of her friends, and with her innocence. The list went on, and he laughed the whole time.
Still she cries.
“What about me?” she pleads in a small voice. “I love you so much…and I tried to make you go away…I killed you and it didn’t help.” The tears slid down in an endless river of grief. This is what he brings her, the only thing he has to offer. More sorrow. More pain. “And I hate it!” she continues, breaking his hold and scrambling up. “I hate that it’s so hard…and that you can hurt me so much!” she takes a breath full of tears. “I know everything that you did, because you did it to me. Oh God! I wished that I wish you were dead.” She shrinks back into herself, ashamed, despairing. “But I don’t. I can’t.”
It’s too much. Her need on top of his own endless, clawing hunger.
“Buffy, please….just this once, let me be strong.”
But she won’t. Her love for him won’t let her.
“Strong is fighting!” she tells him. “It’s hard, and it’s painful, and it’s every day. It’s what we have to do. And we can do it together.” Her mouth trembles as she takes a deep breath. “But if you’re too much of a coward to do that, then burn,” she says, fluttering her hand out in a helpless gesture. “If I can’t convince you that you belong in this world, then I don’t know what can.”
He notices first. The smell, the change in the air.
“But do not expect me to watch. And don’t expect me to mourn for you, because…”
The fluttering flakes are few at first, but it’s enough. Buffy stops her tirade and looks around, up.
Angel does too, unable to comprehend at first.
Then he realizes its snow, purely white and perfectly formed. And falling….
Buffy looks confused, as confused as he feels. But it doesn’t last. Instead, it’s replaced almost at once by a feeling of belonging, of being wanted.
The snow falls faster, gathering in force and quantity, dusting Angel, covering his shoulders. Like a blessing, or an assurance.
He doesn’t dare reach for that feeling, distancing himself almost as soon as he recognizes it as acceptance. It’s too dangerous. But it chases his despair into a dark corner where it cowers, and Angel allows it to happen, letting go.
He has a purpose.
Something wants him.
He takes Buffy’s offered hand, and lets her lead him down the mountain.
Far above, Cordelia rolls her eyes.
“The Buffy and Angel show - it’s even more over-the-top than I remember.”
She frowns when she feels the disapproval weighing on her, and looks up into the white nothingness above her prison. “What? I’m supposed to do nothing while he waits to get seared like an Ahi Tuna? Don’t think so.”
Her gaze wanders down again, searching time and space until she finds his familiar broad shoulders.
She smiles to herself.
“See you soon, Angel.”