Willow was certain it had all been a dream.
As she slowly drifted back to consciousness, she reassured herself that she would be awakening in the silken sheets of the royal bed, her crown sitting on its cushion on her dresser. She would wake up and tell her husband about her dream, and he would comfort her, and they would break their fast together. She remembered that it was Thayne's birthday, and a great celebration was planned. All of their families would be there, and she was certain Thayne would be ecstatic once he saw his present...
But the surface she was lying on was hard, and her husband's arms felt cold.
Then she opened her eyes, and a raw sob was ripped from her throat.
He was so, so beautiful. It had been two score years since she had seen him like this- young and flawless. But he was so, so pale, and his hair was dark once again. So she clung to his grey sweater as they lay together on the floor of his office, and she cried.
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As Angel woke up, he never had the chance to notice his surroundings. All he could notice was the demon.
He had lived without it for so long, that his mind was thrown into confusion. His soul was by no means weak, but it had forgotten how to constantly subdue a demon long ago, and he struggled violently for control. The stab of despair that told him what had happened couldn't really be properly noted, because all his attention was absorbed with the war within him.
He had to win.
He had to fight.
He had to subdue.
His soul took up its old, long forgotten burdens. He wearily accepted the guilt and the silent roars of an enraged minion of hell, and only then did he open his eyes to look at the sobbing woman in his arms. No, girl, for she was the soft little thing she had been at eighteen, and she was no longer his Queen. He recognized his office furniture, and he pulled her closer, each one of her sobs slamming into him with unbearable torment. Every man hates to hear his wife cry-
But he stopped himself. He was not a man anymore, and she was not his wife, and his ring finger felt naked without his golden wedding band. He was a corpse with a demon shredding at his recently joyful self, and he was not the husband he had loved being.
Her sobs started to die down, and he opened his eyes to look into her own, and she was not ready to accept what had happened.
He pulled her upright, and they stood together.
"Willow, I-" he broke off as the demon slammed against him once more.
She couldn't seem to see anything but his shirt. No longer a doublet, no velvet and no ermine- gone were the rich garments of the past forty years of splendor. Gone too were the colors of royalty- deep purple and crimson, gold, and all manner of lush fabrics the color of wine- just gone. His clothes had been reduced, their colors washed away, and it had all faded into grey, grey the color of her despair.
How she wished to be awakened by the sound of a servant building up their morning fire. To remain a queen until she died, not because she cared about royalty, but because she cared about him...
Angel opened his eyes with a small gasp as he shackled the demon down into the depths of himself. His gaze locked with hers, and she could read his unshielded eyes. Torment and bewildered sorrow swam in them, and he looked so lost that she shuddered. She was losing it. She was about to collapse into his-
"Hey guys, there you are!"
Their heads snapped up at once, and they looked over to the doorway where Cordelia stood smiling.
No, no, no, Willow's mind cried, not this, not now-
"How did it go last night?" she asked.
She could have been speaking a foreign language, for all the confusion her question inspired.
"Last night?" Willow asked, her expression incomprehensible.
"Um, yeah. Insane portal guy? Thomas, or whatever?"
Willow shook her head, trying to clear it, dislodge some sort of answer.
Cordelia looked at them more closely. "Man, you guys look terrible. Did that guy do something to you?"
There was a sort of horrible humor to her question, but Willow felt as though she had forgotten how to laugh. Queen Aurelia had loved to laugh, but Willow remained mute.
"Well, I guess you can tell me about it later. Anyway, Willow, I came in to tell you that Xander is here to drive you back to Sunnydale."
She screamed.
Well, she meant to, and her soul did, but all that came out was a whimper.
Cordy laughed. "Yeah, I've seen him drive. And people call me a scary driver..."
No.
Angel said nothing, but his fingers were digging into her arms, and she would have felt the pain if she could have felt anything.
He was so close to ignoring the world and its obligations and rules, and just pulling her against him. He would drag her down to his apartment, and he would remind her that he had loved her as well as he could. He would reclaim her in this world, and if they had to start again, then so be it. They had built their lives together before, and they could do it again. He would not let his princess just walk away.
His feet had actually begun to step towards the elevator. His decision was made. He would regard this newfound youth as a blessing, and not a...
Curse.
And so he couldn't. He couldn't take what he wanted. He couldn't translate her into this world. He couldn't keep her as his joy, because he could have no joy.
Princes were allowed happiness, and likewise kings.
But not angels.
He had been forbidden to one woman, and now he was the same to another. He had promised to protect her and keep her from harm, but from the anguish emanating from her body, he knew that he had failed. Her eyes were begging for something, some succor, but it was not something he could give.
"Hey, Angel?" Cordelia's voice sounded amused, but slightly perplexed.
He turned his dark eyes to his secretary. She smiled hesitantly.
"You're going to have to let her go."
And the truth was there, and so he did.
They had sworn forever, death do them part, but his cold skin and unbeating heart attested to the fulfillment of that promise, and his hands which had been hers- his hands unclenched, and he released her arms. She almost fell over from the lack of support as he stepped away.
"Well, Angel, since I'm assuming that you probably don't want to see Xander or burst into flames, I'll take Willow out."
He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the sight of his no-longer-wife leaving. He didn't see the last despairing look she directed at him. He simply heard retreating footsteps, and then the office door slamming.
He was engaged in another battle, but it was no longer with his demon. He had to fight to remain still, to prevent himself from running out and begging her to stay.
After living a few more eternities, he heard the door open again, and he looked up to find Cordelia looking rather irritated.
"Could you be ruder? You didn't even say thank you! She came all the way out here to help you, which I assume she did- and you just stand there, completely mute! She seemed a little upset by it, to tell you the truth."
A little upset.
"I'm sorry," he said finally, the words coming slowly and with great difficulty.
"Don't you have any recollections of what it's like to be human?"
He turned around and walked into the elevator, closing the gate softly. The elevator sank down into his apartment, but by the time it reached its destination he was huddled in the corner, his grief robbing him of the strength to even leave the cage.
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Willow stared out the window, befuddled by the sights of the modern world surrounding her once more.
She jumped when Xander put his hand on her arm.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked.
She stared at him blankly.
"Your mind seems to be elsewhere," he commented.
She turned away, and allowed the sounds of morning traffic to permeate her shattered heart.
****
The hope, the fear, the jealous care,
The exalted portion of the pain
And power of love, I cannot share,
But wear the chain.
---George Gordon Noel Byron, Sixth Baron Byron
finis