Title: Fate Worse Than Death
Author: Kristi
Pairing: (if applicable. If no pairing, please list single character) Buffy/Angel
Rating: PG
SPOILERS: Not Fade Away S5 Ats
Disclaimer: Don’t own them. They belong to Evil! Joss
Summary: Angel finds out there are fates worse than death

Author's Notes: This isn’t exactly what I had planned but Angel wouldn’t quit whining so I had to cut it off or listen to him whine for another 1300 words or more.

 

 

She knocked on the front door to the hotel, not sure why. It was a hotel, those were pretty much public places right? She’d been invited here though. She’d gotten a strange letter in the mail via Giles two days ago. She’d taken the first plane out of Rome she could get.

 

            The door was opened by a short, skinny kid with the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen. “Buffy?” he asked.

 

            She nodded and stepped inside the hotel. She made a slow circle shaking her head. “His places just get broodier and broodier.” She turned and managed a small smile at the kid in front of her. “You must be Connor.”

 

            “Yeah…I didn’t know if you knew about me or not, but he mentioned your name one night in his ramblings. It was the last lead I had.”

 

            “Are you kidding? Human son of two vampires…that’s big news. I heard, but never from him. We’ve been kind of estranged the last few years,” Buffy said quietly.

 

            “But you were close at one time?”

 

            An involuntary smile crossed her face.  “Yeah. He and I were…” she trailed off, not knowing how to put a name to what she and Angel had been. “We were close.”

 

            Connor nodded. “He needs that right now.”

 

            Buffy nodded. “Where is he?” She wanted to know what happened but first she needed to see Angel.

 

            “This way,” Connor said as he led her up the stairs to the second floor. He knocked on the door and listened then shook his head. “Dad? Someone’s here to see you.”

 

            There was no answer from within. Connor sighed. “He’s in there, but he doesn’t answer me. I’ve tried talking to him. The only response I can get out of him is some tired speech telling me to go back to my family. He tries to push me away, tell me he doesn’t need any help. He gave up everything for me once. I’d like to at least see him get back on his feet.”

 

            “Can I-” she paused and pointed to the door.

 

            Connor nodded. “Yeah. He might bite your head off but you’re a slayer right? You can probably handle him.”

 

            Buffy nodded. “Yeah. We’ll be fine.”

 

            Connor nodded. “If you need anything, just yell. I got his hearing out of the bargain. There’s blood down in the fridge if he decides he is going to eat after all.”

 

            Buffy arched a brow at Connor. “He hasn’t been eating?”

 

            “Just enough by my estimations.”

 

            Buffy nodded and twisted the doorknob. It was locked. She twisted a little harder, popping the lock. She pushed the door open and hesitated at the musty scent coming from the room. Angel hadn’t been out of here in days. She closed the door behind her. The room was pitched into almost complete blackness.

 

            “I don’t want visitors.”

 

            His voice came from a corner of the room. She waited until her eyes adjusted and she could make out his dim form before she started towards him. “I didn’t really ask.” She flipped on the lamp near him and he recoiled, hands flying up to shield his eyes. She coolly assessed him. He looked bad, worse than she’d ever seen him. He was gaunt and thin. His skin had a gray pallor to it and his eyes were smudged with purple from lack of sleep.

 

            He lowered his hands and took in the sight of her. She stood there, arms crossed over her chest, one hip jutting out, her posture making it very clear she had no intention of going anywhere. She sighed and sat down on the bed next to his chair.

 

            “What happened, Angel?”

 

            He shook his head. “You should go back to Rome, Buffy.”

 

            “Connor sent a letter to the Watcher’s Council looking for me. He’s so worried about you.”

 

            “He needs to go back to the Reilly’s. I’m sure they’re looking for him by now.” Angel’s voice sounded exhausted and somehow very fragile.

 

            “Tell me what happened, Angel.” Buffy twisted her hands in lap.

 

            “Go home, Buffy.” It was a sharp bark that shattered around the edges.

 

            “I am home, Angel.” Her tone was quiet but determined.

 

            He shook his head. “I’d forgotten how stubborn you are.”

 

            “Tell me what happened,” she insisted again, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

 

            “You don’t want to hear about it, Buffy. You don’t want to hear about the blood and the way they screamed.”

 

            She laughed bitterly. “I’ve led a few apocalypses, Angel. I know about the blood and the screaming.”

 

            His hands closed over the arms of the chair as if he were having to hold on just to keep himself there. “She used to be a god king. They made her scream. And Gunn…they had to kill him to stop him. He just kept fighting. Spike…the last time I saw him he was covered in blood going down beneath a hoard of demons.”

 

            Buffy bowed her head, hot tears scalding her eyes. She’d heard of Spike’s death weeks ago when it first happened. Not from Angel, never from Angel but Andrew had found out. He’d held some sort of memorial in London. She’d been too busy to go. She said goodbye to Spike later in an old roman cemetery after a night of staking vamps. She took a deep breath. “None of them would have wanted to go any other way.”

 

            “Trust me, Buffy. Illyria did not want to die that way.” His voice was haunted, holding an air of surety and horror.

 

            She nodded. “But she was willing to. She knew that was an option when she went into battle with you. They all did. And if you hadn’t…”

 

            “If I hadn’t pissed off the senior partners the world would have continued the way it’s continued for centuries. There would have been apocalypses, people would have died and the world would have kept turning because no matter how much the Powers That Be want us to believe it, we’re not saving anything that they wouldn’t step in and stop if we weren’t here.” Angel’ s voice rose in volume and bitterness as he spoke.

 

            “It doesn’t matter. I’d save it anyway.” Her voice was quiet, resigned.

 

            “I’m through. You do what you want, but I’m through.” In one moment Angel’s voice lost the bitterness and anger. He just sounded defeated and exhausted.

 

            Buffy leaned forward, one hand covering Angel’s. “There’s one thing I have to save first.”

 

            Angel shook his head, knowing what she was going to say. “We’ve been down that road, Buffy. Some things aren’t redeemable.”

 

            “As long as you’ve known me…what’s the one consistent?”

 

            He sighed and closed his eyes. “You don’t know how to quit.”

 

            “Well I was going to go with stubborn, but your way sounds nicer,” she grinned.

 

            “You don’t understand, Buffy. I knew that fight wouldn’t make a difference. I knew that it’d be like spitting in the face of evil and I led them all to certain death because I was tired of this. I was tired of always fighting. I was supposed to die. Since then I’ve learned there are fates worse than death. I should have known I wouldn’t be allowed to take the easy way out,” Angel buried his head in his hands.

 

            Buffy went to her knees in front of Angel. She tangled her fingers in his hair and rested her head against the crown of his.  “We don’t always know the difference we make. You, Gunn, Illyria, Wes and Spike dealt a heavy blow to the bad guys. They didn’t die in vain, Angel. Don’t make their sacrifice worthless.”

 

            “So what? I’m supposed to get up every day and continue on like none of it ever mattered?” Angel snapped.

 

            Buffy swallowed hard. “No you’re supposed to get up every day and continue on because it did matter.”

 

            Angel cast his eyes up looking at her, his head still bowed. “I don’t think I can.”

 

            Buffy smiled sadly at him. She kissed his forehead. “Then I’ll stay until you can.”

 

            “And after that?” He asked, afraid to hope for anything more, but needing to know.

 

            “I told you, Angel. I’m home.”