Title – Friendship's Worth

Disclaimer - not mine.

Rating - PG

Spoilers - everything ever.

Pairing - Buffy/Angel.

Synopsis – Angel tries to get some loose ends tied.

Feedback - always.

AN – Angel's POV.

AN2 - I'm sorry for the long delays between parts, guys... unfortunately I can't say when the next one will come out though. I'm having a writer's block *and* very little time to devote to writing these days...

I try not to make a sound as I drag myself into the bedroom. She's sleeping so peacefully, and she's so beautiful... and I don't want to wake her up.

I sigh tiredly as I shoulder off the jacket and toss it on a nearby chair, I don't even care I almost miss it. My brain is really not functioning on that level right now, or on any level, seeing as I can't make one coherent thought.

Giles and I spoke for another hour or so, after Willow and Xander had both turned in. He had so many questions I couldn't answer, so many explanations I would have never thought about myself. It seemed like he put my entire life under a microscope and into a completely different perspective and I'm saying that bearing in mind the fact my subconscious is still not entirely sure which of the two 'lives' was actually mine.

I know Giles was trying to help, that's all he wanted, all he wants. But it still felt more as though he was examining me somehow, at times I wasn't even sure he trusted me or what I was saying, that he was carefully weighting every word that made it past my lips to either be truth or lie. He mostly wanted answers though - just answers. God, what made him even think I had them?! He wanted to speak to... Wesley, he was the one who first uncovered a prophecy about me turning human, and now Giles is grasping at every straw, thinking it's connected, too. How am I ever going to get a hold on Wesley? I barely remember him, let alone know where he is or if he's still...

I inhale a deep breath and sit down on the bed as I begin to untie my shoes and prepare for sleep. I don't even know how long I'm planning to not wake up... probably until my life is back on track again. And as if that will ever happen. How am I supposed to live at all when a part of me acts and feels as if it's twenty nine and the other over two hundred and fifty?? I left one life behind me. Maybe not so long ago, but I did and now I'm trying to get the other one back up and running. It's the same as being willingly reborn, and it's hard, and painful, and I don't know for how long I'm going to be able to keep that up. The second I laid eyes on her in my best friend's arms in their engagement party, I swore to myself nothing would stand in my way to happiness, I was willing to pay any price if it only were in my power to break through the veil of anguish and pain surrounding her fake bliss and make it real. And I did that, and I paid. I lost most of my friends, I lost my best friend who was like a brother to me, I lost nearly all connections to a life I thought was mine to live, and I plunged into insanity. And I welcomed it, for her, for my son, and for nothing in the world would I ever change any of that or take any of that back.

I pull off my black trousers and lose the shirt, absentmindedly noticing it's light azure instead of being black or of some other dark color, but I shake these thoughts off before they can really get to me. It's the worst when the stupidest and most trivial things throw me like that.

I pick up two photographs from the nightstand, one of them is of me and her we took a few days ago. Xander took it during a picnic we had in a park, I'm sitting under a tree and she's sleeping, curled up in my arms. I smile as I remember how much Buffy wanted this one wiped off the face of the earth claiming she came out awfull in it, but I never let her. The other one is of me, Connor and Liz, from the same day. I take a lengthy look at my son, then back at Buffy and it doesn't take me too long to find what's in common between the two - they're happy. And the best part is, that in my own small way, I know I somehow had a part in it. I somehow helped to make them happy, and even if that's all I did, I'm proud of this little achievement. If I can do that - then everything is worth it. And they are not the only ones, it's me, too, especially when I look at these pictures and others we've taken over the numbered days I've been back into the lives of these several people I call family. I feel like I'm a part of them again, like the chance for me to regain all I thought was lost is still not quite lost after all. These photographs, they don't represent the past for me, they represent the future. Our future, mine, Buffy's, and Connor's. The fact there is a chance and a way for us to have one. As family.

As I lie down, my thoughts drift back to what I know I'm going to have to do tomorrow. The exact thing I've been avoiding for far too long, the exact thing I should have never avoided in the first place. But I have no choice now, not anymore. Even if I could live the rest of my life pretending *he* was never in it... it all doesn't matter anymore. I need help, and he's the only one that can help me. Assuming he'll even want to see me, that is...

I roll on my side and wrap my arms around her waist, as she instinctively fits herself into my arms me and lets out a small content sigh that sounds more like a purr and makes me smile. I know she never really does fall asleep until I'm right there with her, that she always waits for me. I banish the thoughts that suddenly worm their way into my mind. I don't want to think about needing to face her, too. I don't even remember how I came to owe so many explanations to so many people. Well, pretending for the sake of argument it should make me feel better, she also has her share of explaining to do... But no, that really doesn't help, does it.

Welcoming sleep to take me, I close my eyes and plant a kiss on her crown. "I love you," I breathe quietly into her hair and though she still appears to be sound asleep, I'm sure I hear her say it back before I completely drift away.

As I step into the police station, I feel a sudden chill running through my every bone and I have to ask myself again, what the hell am I doing there? Was it really and truly my last resort? Because... I don't think so. If I really want to find a missing person, there are lots of other resources to do that, and even if, there sure as hell are thousands of other police stations to go to for help. There are hundreds of reasons why I should not be where I am right now, and they're all simultaneously whispering in my head and I can barely make it from one to another. As I do everything in my power to banish them out of my head, I make my way through the desks, pretending nobody is looking at me, and that the dozens eyes of Cole's friends, people who used to be my acquaintances, too, some people I never met, are asking themselves the same question as I do - what the hell am I doing here?!

I stop by the door into his office and take a couple of deep breaths. I can see through the glass he's in there, sitting by his desk, with his back turned to me, probably the reason why his fist still hasn't found the shortest and quickest way to my face. I just take a moment to look at him before I enter. I sense the others' eyes burning into my back and it makes me feel like a monkey in a zoo. And still in the very back of my mind, I know only too well I'm in no position whatsoever to expect *anything* else. Especially now... that I'm on *his* field.

I don't knock, instead I just push the door open and quietly close it behind me as I enter his office. Being a detective sure has its advantages, at least this way we can fight in relative privacy.

"Hey," I manage, with lack of anything better to say. Well, at least he turns around...

He stares at me for a few seconds, he's not saying anything, just steadily holding my gaze. His is set and strong and I can even detect a well hidden spark in it I use my experience to interpret as bitter irony. "What do I owe the honor?" he asks sarcastically and I swallow hard, not knowing how to begin. I don't see how me telling him I need his help is going to make things any better at the moment. Besides... I think I've known all along that was just an excuse.

"Cole-"

"You know what, on second thought, spare me." He holds his hand palm up as he stands and walks around his desk over to where I am. "It just happens I really don't give a damn. Leave."

"I can't do that." I sigh and fold my arms on my chest, attempting to appear resolute.

He laughs and leans back against his desk, aping my actions. A moment later, his smirk vanishes and he simply looks on into my eyes. "Leave. Now. If you don't, I'll throw you out. You're on my territory now, in case that slipped your mind." As he says that, he stands up straight again and walks back to his chair, but instead of sitting down, he just turns with his back to me, staring out the window. Either he's expecting me to help myself out or he isn't expecting me to leave at all. Something tells me the second is more likely, so trusting my instincts, I say what's probably the last thing I should at the moment.

"I need your help, Cole." After a beat, when he doesn't seem to have moved a muscle, I add, "And I need to talk to you."

There he goes, the same dry laughter again, the one that makes me cringe every time as though the sole intention of every word I utter is to play him and torture him. "I don't fucking care what you need!" he explodes as he turns around, throwing his arms in the air in frustration. "Try to get this into you head once and for all," he hisses, making several steps in my direction, then stops. "I don't even know who you are anymore, *what* you are. I don't know you! Hell, I recently found out I never really did! So goes like this, I don't care what you need, what you have to say, or what you think, I don't care about *anything*. Just get out of my life, man, not as if you were ever in it anyway."

I nod, taking in what he had to say, hopefully it being all of it. The funny thing is that he's right. I've never been in his life, the guy that was there, even if only for three years, that wasn't me. I don't know who that was... but even if I refuse to admit it, deep inside, the closer I get to a life that holds everything dear to me in it, the further I drift away from that person. And he's right here, too. He doesn't know me. How can he feel he does, after I betrayed him in the worst possible way? He was like a brother to me, and now I can hardly blame him for not being able to stand the sight of me. I wouldn't be either.

"I never wanted for things to go down this way," is all I can come up with at the moment, probably not the best line though. "It's important for me that you know that."

"Oh so you *didn't* mean to steal my girl?" I flinch at the mockery in his voice but more at the fact that my upcoming answer possesses the perfect potential to make things even worse.

"She's my girl, Cole," I say quietly, yet firmly. I came here for a lot of reasons today, but apologizing for loving Buffy never was and never will be one of them. "I didn't steal her from you, I didn't even take her," I continue, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible given the circumstances and the only too visible flicker of rage in his bright blue eyes. "She's *always* been my girl."

"Go to hell," he revolves in a huff and faces the window again.

I chuckle, nervously running a hand through my hair. "You know, with the amount of times the people I love sent me there, they gotta have a special door for me by now."

I watch as his shoulders slump slightly as he exhales. After a beat, he turns around and looks at me. And I don't see rage in his eyes anymore. All I see is pain. And not so surprisingly, it is much more a pain of a best friend's betrayal than a pain of losing the woman he loves.

"Why?"

How is it that I can never answer the simplest questions?

I slightly wet my lips before I begin to try to make out sensible words. I don't even know how to explain something like this and God knows I owe him an explanation. How do you explain loving someone? Loving someone like I love Buffy... it seems we had to explain that 'phenomenon' to people one too many times throughout our relationship. "Do you know... what it's like, to live a life, knowing the entire time that you're not whole inside, that something is missing, but never knowing what that something is?"

He swallows and just looks at me. So I take it as my cue to go on.

"That's how I felt. You remember why you asked me so many times why I could never make it work with women? Because they weren't her, and there was something inside me that never let me give my all to a woman that wasn't her. And you know, women don't seem to like the fact that a guy is holding back a part of him, keeping it out of their reach. And so I flunked one relationship after another, never making it work. And deep down, I didn't care, because deep down I knew it was not supposed to."

"Men don't like it much either," he observes abruptly, seemingly completely out of context, but I know what he's referring to. All I do is nod.

"When you showed me a picture of her for the first time, it clicked inside of me, the face in my mind finally became corporeal because I knew then for sure she was real. And around that time, things first began coming back to me, memory hit me after a memory, and I didn't know what to do with myself, where to put myself."

"So you lied to me," he nods in understanding, flashing at me a transient rueful smile. "You never said anything, you just lied to me."

"Would you have believed me, had I said anything?" I ask, and my hard gaze demands an honest answer, but it causes him to avert his instead. "I didn't know anything myself at first, Cole. I didn't lie to you, at least because the line between the concept of truth and the concept of lie became so thin that it all but faded off into nothing. I thought I was losing it, I didn't know whether or not I was lying to *myself*, whether or not my mind wasn't simply playing tricks on me. It took me about two years to pull myself together."

"And you *still* never said anything."

"How could I? You never stopped talking about her-"

"And you asked me to!" he cuts into my sentence with unexpected exasperation. "You *wanted* to hear the tiniest details about her, and about Connor. And you let me think you were just interested in my life, never mind the fact you more than once crossed the line of sheer interest. And I bought it. Like an idiot, every single time, I bought it, because it wouldn't as much as cross my mind my best friend would ever do this to me!"

"I didn't want to do this to you!" I yell back, only catching my voice too late. "Dammit, Cole, I stayed away from them as far as I could, because I *knew* what would happen if I showed up here, and it killed me inside! Especially with Connor, you have no idea what the two of us have been through together, but the fact I was missing out his life *intentionally* was the most horrible thing imaginable. And Buffy... God, do you have any idea what it was like for me to-" I stop at the sight of his eyes darken with hidden agony and mild threat at the same time, as if he was daring me to say what I was going to. I'm not going to though. It's not worth it. If I tell him I was jealous of him, it will only destroy what I'm trying to rebuilt right now, hoping I still stand a chance...

"I stayed away, Cole. I stayed away because I didn't want to intrude. I didn't think I... had the right to."

"You didn't have the right?" he derisively quirks a brow at my words. "What, you were afraid she'd dump me and run into the sunset with you? Because I just wanted to say how noble of you that was. So what changed, Angel? What gave you the *right* all of a sudden?"

"Selfishness," I say quietly. And in the long run, the more I think of it, it's the truth. "I couldn't let her slip away, the closer it pressed to the big finish, the more I could feel her slipping away from me, giving herself to someone else. I guess I loved her too much to let her do that."

"Well, you didn't need to worry about that," he smirks, folding his arms on his chest. "Even if you hadn't blown off our engagement party... she would have. She was about to, I could see it clearly in her eyes, she was about to terminate the whole thing. Then you showed up and I realized why." He hops up on the edge of his desk and rubs the back of his neck, for a moment looking down from me. "You know... this all... paranormal stuff, however you call it, I never got it. You can't really blame me, you know, one day you wake up and find out that instead of cheep horror movies, vampires are actually roaming in your own back yard. It's not easy to take in for a guy like me. But *she* was born into this world, and I did all there was in my power to embrace it for her. And you... you were born into this world, too. An unlike me, you fit in there... with her, as much as I hate to say that, or admit it, or both. And a part of me hates you for that, and I don't know if it'll ever stop. I feel like I lost... a brother," he gazes up at me and our eyes lock for the moment it takes me to share his thoughts.

"I know."

"Do you," he shrugs. "Maybe you do. I don't know... I followed you, last night. I didn't mean to, but I did. You proposed to her."

I look down and focus my gaze on my shoes for a moment, avoiding his. It's strange how I find I'm not even angry with him for that. "I did."

"You don't waste time," he observes.

"I wasted too much time, Cole, I wasted years. I think it's a good place to stop."

"Probably," he shrugs again, appearing completely indifferent, making me wonder whether or not he really is. "Sometimes I... wish she loved me half as much as she does you, I wish we got to share a bit of what you two do." He chuckles, looking up at me. "But then I don't. Because I know I wouldn't be able to handle it. The whole star-crossed love deal, Angel... Seems you two never got it easy. I found her crying once, by a grave I didn't even know then was yours. And I didn't see the obvious in her eyes then, but as I think back at it, I do now. I may be jealous, but I'm not ready for it either. And you two... I guess you really do deserve this break. So take her, take *it*. Use it."

A tense silence settles in the room and we both feel it, and it seems to be driving us only further apart.

"Now go," he finally says, as he walks back to his chair and sits in it. "Leave me alone."

"I can't leave it at that." And yet, somehow, it seems to be the right thing to do...

"You don't have a choice," he looks up one last time. "We're not kids, Angel, we're both way past that-"

"I get it."

"I know you do. We're not going to 'make up'. Not in the nearby future, I can tell you that. When you came, you told me you needed help, so fine, I'll help, whatever. But now, I need you to leave me alone."

I inhale a deep breath and nod, reluctantly turning around to leave.

"I'm glad you came though," he adds quietly as I reach the door. And still, there is nothing to say back, so I pause for a moment, then let myself out.

THE END