Authors Notes, Disclaimer and Intro
 
 

PART THREE -- How Many Tears Can You Cry In A Week?
 

Three hours late, Buffy woke up from a void dream with no sound on her lips.  A dream of nothing.  Literally.  White space.  Buffy in the middle.

And nothing.

/You know what the most frightening thing in the world is?  Nothing/

She swung her legs out of the sheets and got out.  She was still wearing clothes because Angel probably had been too embarassed to undress her.  She picked up his sweater that was lying on the chair and put it on for warmth.  She went to the window and eased back the curtain.  On seeing that it was still dark, she shut it and turned back around, rubbing her arms.

And he was there.  Lying so still.  So peacefully.  Like the only place he couldn't be tortured would be in his dreams.  Unlike her.

The expression on his face, his eyelids fluttering, matching Buffy's heart movements as she studied him.  His arm had been draped over her waist and he was half hanging out the bed.  His hair was flattened and he was making an 'o' with his mouth.  His chest rose and fell in perfect time.  His other arm was covering his stomach and his sweater had been hiked up, due to his tossing around.  The sheets were ruffled and unruly around him.  Most of them were gathered on Buffy's side, with a little for him.

Buffy walked back over to the bed and crawled onto it, watching him ever more closely.  She recognised every aspect of him, since his face had been imprinted on her mind since the first time she knocked him down in that alley.

She knew his every move and his every breath but he still surprised her.  The small dip in his forehead was still there.  The chicken pox scar from 250 years ago when he and his siblings had been infected with the virus.  He had two brothers and a sister.  Three months later, after the epidemic in the town was over, he had one sibling, Kathy.  They'd lost two to the disease.

They were lucky for it to have only been two.

And yet the scar was still there.  Wounds inflicted on Angel in battle never stayed.  Only that scar from his teenage years and the scar on his heart from his bout with love had stayed.  The fight Buffy was responsible for.

Every about him was supposed to be constant.

/He'll stay young and handsome forever-Although you'll still get wrinkly and die/

/You're the one freaky thing in my freaky world that makes sense to me/

He was supposed to be there forever.  Never leave.  Have the kind of forever in love songs.  The forever where they live out their mortal lives and die.  Not the actual forever where he's always 26 and she's approaching 96.

Buffy eased herself back into her previous position lying beside him.  She placed his arm over her again but turned to face him instead.  He continued to breathe in and out, in a deep sleep.

/Do you snore?/

For a second, Buffy could swear she was in the past.  Lying, watching him sleep so still.  So peacefully.  She remembered when he was hers, and she was his.  Now they were separated.. And she loved him more than ever before.  but that was what it had always been like.

Each day she seen him at the mansion or in the Bronze, she loved him more.  Catching a fleeting sight of him in the crowd.  His smile.  His eyes.  Nothing could touch her.

She placed a finger on his bottom lip, reminscing about how soft he was.  How perfect.  Then she replaced the finger with her own lips, kissing him gently, softly, tenderly.

A kiss of a sleeping vampire.

So very poetic, so very like some big play.  Or film.  The scriptwriters throwing everything they could in their paths.  And they defeated it all.  Until it came to the one thing they couldn't defeat or get around.

Their paths.

But they lead back to each other.  They always have.

And Buffy kissed him again, placing a hand on his cheek, holding his face.  He never felt cold to her.  Just right.  It was stupid slobbering humans who felt all wrong.  Who were too hot.  Who irrated her skin and made it itch.

And then a hand traced round to her back, pulling her closer.  The kiss blossomed and she felt him move.  He was kissing her back.  She sighed into his lips, and tangled a hand in his flattened hair.

When they parted, they didn't run.  They just lay there, in awe of the kiss to end all kisses.

Of course, that would only be until the next one.

"Sorry," he apologized at once.  "Sorry."

"Which one of us was sleeping?" Buffy pointed out simply.

"You shouldn't be.. ready.. No.  I mean.. Buffy you know what I mean."

"I'm the only one who does."

"After.. What happened, don't rush anything," Angel advised.  Buffy sat up against the headboard and stared at him.

"And you don't mean with you," she said slowly.

"No.  Because you can't." /We can't/

"Yeah, I know.  I was just.. looking at you.. And I wanted to.. Kiss you."

"You too huh?" He joked lightly.  They shared a soft chuckle before Buffy slide back down and placed his arm back over her.

Then she let Sleep claim her for his own, and stumbled into nothingness once again.

Buffy wished she could have dreamt of nothing.  She dreamt of a movie, private screening for her.

["I'm going back to base."]

["Don't let me stop you, Riley."]

["See you later?"]

["Maybe."]

/kiss/

(alone again)

/leaves/

/crunch/

[snobbysuperficialbitchgoddamnbitchBuffyI'mMissPerfect..]

(strange noise.  Investigate mode)

*KICK*

["Oh God!  Sorry!"]

(ow!  Drowsy.. Stupid tree root..)

/smack/

/thud/

[I want her dead]

[teach the whore a lesson]

/ziiip/

(burningstophelpplease)

/grunt/

/rustle/

/grunt/

(viciousnohelpcan'tmove)

/grunt/

[hold her tighter]

/moan/

(STOP)

[Your turn]

(pleasenomoreleavemeplease)

[Don't wanna]

(thankyouwhywon'tyouhelp)

[Fine. But she's getting two for the price of one.]

(PLEASEHELP)

[What?]

/stumble/

[I'm going again.]

/numb/

/dead weight/

(allagainneverstopscan'teverstop)

(pleasestop)

/can't move/
 

"STOP!" Buffy screamed, thrashing upright.  Angel sat up with her quickly, awakened from his dream.  Contrary to Buffy's thought, it wasn't filled with flowers and puppies.  She knew that the dark touched his dreams.  His dreams were the Dark's most powerful ally against him.

But she liked to think that it wasn't.  That he was OK in his dreams.  He could be safe.

"Buffy, Buffy," Angel soothed her, gently easing his arms around her.  She hugged them into her before turning around and sobbing into his chest, her tears giving moisture to his chest.

Buffy awoke again surrounded in him.  It seemed like all she'd be doing for the past few days had been sleeping and waiting to wake from a dream that attempted to trap her.  Angel had been her anchor, keeping her where she should be.

Later on, Buffy was wearing some of Angel's clothes that was in his emergency bag he kept in the car.  It was a weeks supply of Cordelia, Wesley and his own clothes should they need them.  Buffy was wearing Cordelia tailored blue pants and a pale blue top.  When she first put it on, she was shocked and vaguely annoyed.

"Oh my God," Buffy said loudly, letting her thoughts wander out of the forrest.

"What is it?" Angel said quickly, turning round.  He'd been facing away while she got changed.  Buffy was standing in front of a small mirror looking at herself in Cordelia's clevage top.

"Oh my God," Buffy repeated in a low tone.  "Look at this.."

"What?" Angel was confused.  Everything looked fine.

"Cordelia is like two bra sizes bigger than me," she shook her head in disbelief.  "This like hangs off me around the bust.. This sucks," she judged.  Angel smiled and she spun around to see him.  "This is funny?  I have nothing.. I have washboard.. And Cordelia has these.." Buffy demonstrated by pulling out the top to what was supposed to be full capacity.

"Buffy it doesn't make a difference," Angel assured her.

"I hate her," Buffy decided, turning back to the mirror.

Angel hoped they would get to a laundrette soon or he would have to start wearing Wesley's shirts.

They sat at beside the fire on the sofa together, watching it crackle.  Hiding from the world as the images haunted both of them.

Buffy's scream was ringing constantly in her ear.  Her silent pleas made as her mouth was frozen.

Angel replayed finding her.  His imagination taunted him with pictures of her lying there, fearing she was dead.  Scenarios where she had been killed.  And other scenarios where they were raping her.  And he couldn't stop seeing it.

"Buffy.. Maybe you might want to talk to someone," Angel disturbed the air around him which was basking in his presence.

"I can't talk to you?"

"Well.. You could.  I was meaning more.. the police."

Buffy shook her head.  "He's a military officer.  They both are.  He could make the charges disapear."  Her face was nearly as pale as Angels having be deprived of sunlight for a few days.  Her face was natural and void of make up and her hair was pulled back in a pony tail.

"Or Willow.  Or a counsellor."

"I can't Angel.. I just.. Can't.." Buffy laid a head on his shoulder, trying not to blink so she wouldn't have to hear them in the darkness.

"You want to.. Talk to me about it?" He asked with great difficulty.

"Do you want me to?"

"I want you to do anything that will help you," Angel told her truthfully.

"OK," Buffy shifted to face him.

"OK," Angel nodded.  They sat in silence, and Angel could feel what she was saying.  Please..  "Buffy.. I don't think for a minute you don't trust me.  I think you're not ready."

Buffy shook her head sadly and felt more tears hurt her weary eyelids.  Can't cry again.. Can't..

She hadn't stopped crying for days and it was physically hurting her to shed tears.

"What do you want?"

"Apart from the obvious.. I want to sit here with you.  And forget the world ever dared to exist," she murmured, resting a head on his shoulder.

Bufy looked up at the clock from her place on Angel's chest sprawled on the sofa.  "It's so late."

"That clock's completely wrong," Angel reminded her.  They streched and yawned, untangling themselves.  "Buffy, I think maybe.. you should call Riley.  And tell him everything.  And try to get past this.  It'll take a long--" Angel said, feeling the hurt strike in his body.  For her..

"Where the Hell did that come from?  You're pushing me away," Buffy said slowly, before looking into his eyes.  "Why?  Because you can't handle it?"

"Yes and no," Angel admitted sorely.  "I mean, I can handle what happened.. and help you.. But I can't handle us being together in this place, alone and no one except Giles knows we're here.  Everything is going to ten times harder when you go back out there Buffy.  Hiding won't make it go away."

"You're pushing me back to Riley?  You hate Riley!" Buffy pointed out.

"Willow.. Or Xander.  Your mom.  They can all help you."

"And you can't?"

"You made it clear last year that I was firmly out of your life.  And you didn't need anything from me anymore."

"But you're the only one," Buffy said firmly and painfully through tears.  "The only one who ever knew me.  Who I ever really talked to.  You're the only one.."

"Buffy.." Angel closed his eyes.

"What?  Do you want me to get over it?  Just like that, huh?"

"No!  Buffy that's not what I'm saying!" Angel protested.

"Or tell you everything?"

"No, not until you're ready."

"Fine.  I was in the woods.  I was walking away from Riley.  I thought it was a demon.  I gave it a flying kick.  I didn't realize it was a person until it was too late.  Riley's new commando guy Steven.. Wilson was there.  He shocked me, I think.  I hit my head and the next part was like some.. freaky.. Can't get out of dream," Buffy blurted out the rash of words, itching her tongue.

"It was Forrest.  He called me a whore.  I mean, I remember everything but through a glass window.  I was beating my fists on the glass and no one was listening, no one even blinked.  I saw my body.  I saw them rape me.  And I cried and screamed inside but no one looked my way.  I'm the Slayer and I couldn't break the glass.  I begged and wept as I watched Steven hold me as Forrest..  As he...  And they wouldn't stop.  Then I saw them leave, like nothing had happened.  And I remember slipping back into myself, and cursing whoever it was for not letting me be unconscious sooner.  Next thing.. Your arms were around me," Buffy finished, staring down.

Angel couldn't think of a word to say, so he shifted forward to wrap her up and protect her.  She pushed a hand against his chest and stood up off the sofa.

"So you think I should go to Riley?" Buffy asked him finally.  "Tell him and play the victim?  Let.. Them.. take whatever is left of myself they didn't touch?"

Angel shook his head.

"Do you want me to go back to Riley and continue with the normal scheduling of the Adventures and Mishaps of Buffy the Vampire Slayer so you can go back to the regular slot of Angel in LA?"

"No.." Angel protested weakly.

"Answer me!  Do you want me to go back to Riley?"

No.. Please don't leave..

Angel looked down and said nothing, trying to let her go again.

"Fine!" Buffy clenched her teeth.  She ran to the coat stand and plucked her jacket from it.  She threw it round her shoulders and ran out of the mansion in tears with one thought on both of their minds:

How many tears can you cry in a week?

END OF PART THREE