//Don't be afraid
Close your eyes
Lay it all down
Don't you cry
Can't you see I'm going
Where I can see the sun rise
I've been talking to my Angel
And he says that it's alright//
"Talking to my Angel" by Melissa Etheridge
Capeside Cemetery
January 19, 2018
Midnight
Angel entered the cemetery as the clock in the local church struck twelve. Walking slowly through the rows of marble stones to the far side of the cemetery, next to a solitary oak tree, he came upon the newest grave. Biting his lip, he stared off into the distance. When he finally returned his eyes to the simple white monument, tears glittered on his cheeks.
"Happy Birthday, Buffy," he whispered as he dropped a single red rose on the grave.
He took a seat on the ground and leaned back against the tree. Drawing in a deep breath he began to speak. "Well I delivered all your letters. It was so hard, Buffy. The looks on their faces... Willow understood, but Xander was ready to kill me. I don't think he's ever forgiven me. You were right, his little girl is adorable. I wish I could have spent a little time with her but I don't think Xander and Cordelia will be inviting me over for dinner anytime soon." He stopped speaking for a second and looked out over the cemetery. Habit made him search for any newly risen vampires, but Capeside was a quiet town. Buffy would rest in peace.
"Giles surprised me. He's forgiven me for Jenny's death. In fact, he wanted me to forgive him for all the time you and I lost because of him. I told him that we both understood. He's a lonely man. I hope he can find some happiness in his life."
Angel reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a sheaf of papers. "Xander gave this to Willow for me. It's a manuscript he wrote a while ago. It's supposed to be a story about you and I. Want to see what the great Alex Harris has written about us? I'm probably staked by page ten." He smiled at the tombstone. He could almost feel Buffy's presence as he began to read. It brought memories of the nights they had spent in front of the fire before she became so sick. "Her beautiful blue eyes shone with an inner fire as she approached the mysterious man who had provided her clues to the demon's activities..."
"Hand in hand the Demon Hunter and the Vampire walked off in the night. The path they had chosen was not easy, but when was love ever easy? Each knew that in the other they had found the missing part of themselves. They would never be alone again." The moon had traced its path across the sky and set by the time Angel finished the manuscript. He closed his eyes while he considered the meaning of the story. Xander had given them the happy ending they never had in real life. Was it a sign that Xander had forgiven him? He smiled ruefully to himself, that would be the day. Finding a pen in his coat pocket he wrote a short note and attached it to the manuscript. Carefully he placed the manuscript next to the quiet stone.
When he resumed his position against the tree he reached into his pocket and removed a small envelope. His name was written in Buffy's writing much like the envelopes he had delivered to Willow, Xander and Giles. He had carried it with him since her death, unwilling to face her final message. He looked at the Eastern sky and then, sighing heavily, opened the envelope.
My dearest love,
There aren't enough words to describe all I feel for you. You have been the greatest love of life, the only love of my life. I can't thank you enough for everything you've given me, both years ago in Sunnydale and these wonderful months here in Capeside. I only wish we had more time. But we'll have eternity together. I know that in my heart. The good in you, the love you have given me, far out weighs anything that the demon did. We have sacrificed so much in this lifetime. We should have our eternity together in the light.
I know you Angel. I know that you are probably reading this letter as you wait for the sun to rise one final time. I wish there was a way I could stop you. You could be happy with Willow, helping Claire, protecting Joy. They need you. But I'm selfish. I'm waiting for you. I want you to come to me. I want our eternity together to start now. So as you face the morning sun, don't be afraid. I'm there beside you. Holding your hand. Rejoicing in the brilliant sunlight. I love you from the bottom of my heart.
Buffy
Angel wiped the tears from his eyes when finished the letter. If only it were true. If only they could spend eternity together. But the demon's sins had condemned him to eternal damnation, of that he was certain. He rose, walked to the tombstone and sat again, facing the direction of the rising sun. If their spirits couldn't be together at least their ashes would mingle.
"So, are you already to face the fires of hell again, Angel?"
Angel jumped as the voice disturbed his reverie. Turning, he saw Whistler seated on a large marble stone about twenty feet away. "You've been to hell once already. I wouldn't think you'd be so eager to head back there again," the small demon continued.
"Haven't we done this before, Whistler? You talked me out of it once already. I don't think it'll work again. She's gone. Dead! There's nothing left for me here now." Angel had risen from his spot on the ground. He paced angrily around the marker, grief at his loss and fear of the coming dawn mixing with desperation on his face.
"I'm not here to talk you out of it, Angel. She's gone, a part of you is missing. There's nothing holding you here now. You're right. But before you go for the perfect tan, answer this question for me. Do you think there's a cosmic scorecard? You know, somewhere they keep a tally of the good and the bad people have done? The sacrifices they've made?" The small demon followed Angel around as he spoke.
"You're damn right there's a scorecard. I hope it gave Buffy the happiness and peace in the afterlife that she never had here. I know what it's going to give me," he said bitterly.
"I don't think Buffy's gotten the happiness she wanted in the afterlife..."
Whistler's words were interrupted by Angel's hands around his throat, "What do you mean, you bastard? She gave up everything to be the Slayer. She deserves some happiness now."
With a strength that belied his small stature, Whistler pushed away. "You're right, she does. That's where you come in. She needs you there with her. She's waiting for you. They sent me to make sure you came. I told them it wasn't necessary, that you wouldn't survive for long without her but they wanted to make sure. They want her to be happy."
"They?" Angel's voice was suspicious, "Who the hell are they?"
"The forces of Good and Evil, the Fates, whatever you want to call them. You'll see soon enough. Are you afraid to see the sun for the first time in 262 years?"
Angel resumed his position on the ground against the stone marker. "I'm more afraid of life without her," he said quietly.
"It won't be long till you see her again. I promise." Whistler vanished as quickly as he appeared, leaving Angel alone in the cemetery.
The morning sun began to peek over the eastern sky and Angel waited for the pain to begin. To his surprise he felt no pain, no burning as his clothes began to smoke, only a gentle pressure in his right hand, almost as if someone was holding it. Turning his gaze from his smoking clothes he looked into Buffy's bright blue eyes. This was not the wasted Buffy of only a week earlier. This was Buffy in all her seventeen year old beauty. She smiled a brilliant smile at him. "I've been waiting for you."