Feedback
By: Jen
Balover214@yahoo.com
My Site: https://www.angelfire.com/tv2/bau
Disclaimer: Joss owns everything!!!! The title and the idea for this fic came from the song “Same Old Lang Syne” by Dan Fogelburg.
Timeline: AU. Sequel to “A Toast to Time”
Spoilers: Just general past of the B/A ship and the shows.
Synopsis: Buffy and Angel deal with their difficult home lives, as they remember their night together.
Distribution: You want my story??? You can take it; just let me know where it’s going!!
Feedback: PLEASE!!! Good or bad, I want to know what you think!!
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Note: I’m working on making this a series of stories, but I can’t think of a good name. So, if anyone has suggestions, I would definitely appreciate them!!!
* * *
Buffy’s tears continued to fall as she drove to Willow and Tara’s house on the other side of town. She never imagined she would see Angel again, much less find him looking so good. It was obvious that he was happy now, with his human life, his actress wife, and three kids. She envied Cordelia for a long time back in school, and the feelings resurfaced more and more as they talked tonight. Their life sounded so good, so simple. She wasn’t even sure she knew what simple was anymore. But that didn’t surprise Buffy. When was her life ever simple anyway?
When she got to her friends’ house, she thanked them for watching the kids this late. With their help, she got the sleeping Maggie and Patrick into the car and strapped in. Willow noticed the tear stains and puffy eyes on Buffy’s face, and questioned her about them.
“Oh, God, Buffy!! Is everything all right?? Is it Sam??”
Shaking her head, the former Slayer knew she couldn’t go into this right now, or she’d just disintegrate into a puddle of tears on the driveway. “No, Sam’s just fine. Well, as good as can be expected anyway. I, um, ran into an old friend at the store. That’s all.”
“That’s all?? You never could lie to me, Buffy.” Willow held her resolve face, ready to insist that she know everything about what happened.
“Okay, fine, you don’t have to give me the third degree!! It just, well, I, um, ranintoAngelatthegrocerystore. And-“
“YOU RAN INTO ANGEL??” The redhead’s eyes were bulging out of her face, shocked at the name of a man they hadn’t talked about in years.
“Well, yeah. But look, can we talk about this later?? I really need to go and check on Sam and get the kids to bed.” Her two friends nodded, hugged her, and sent their best wishes for her husband’s health.
* * *
Angel stayed in the parking lot for almost an hour, unable to stop the flow of tears, before heading to Cordelia’s parents’ house. They were staying there during the holidays, as his wife and family tried to reconcile their differences over good times and spiked eggnog.
Taking his time, he drove to the richer side of Sunnydale, contemplating the realities of his life. Was he really as happy as he thought he was? Yeah, he and Cordelia had their good times, and he wouldn’t trade his children for anything on this earth, but there were problems. Just like every other relationship. They fought…a lot. And as much as his wife’s attitudes have changed, her self-centeredness crept out at times, making him wonder what he ever saw in her to begin with.
Originally they were merely co-workers, nothing special. But the more time they spent together, the more Angel enjoyed their moments alone. Going from best friends to lovers was a little awkward, but at the time, it was worth it. At first, the only time they ever had problems was when his demon became an issue. Cordy always had a bone-deep fear over his other half. When they started dating, she told him how much she disliked his evil personality and hoped he would never be seen again. As much as it hurt, Angel always acted like a normal man around her, hoping that she would see how hard he was trying to be better for her.
When he was finally made human, Angel immediately thought of Buffy. It was what they had always prayed for, wanting it more than anything else. He was going to go see her, to tell her everything and see if she wanted to give it a chance too. But just before he walked out into the sun, Cordelia told him about Sam. Apparently, Willow said it was serious and that she was happy. So, Angel, in his infinite wisdom, left things alone. A year later, he proposed to his wife, a woman who stood by him through a lot of hard times. Even though it wasn’t perfect happiness or true love, there was a deep connection with her, and he wanted to give it a shot. Just before his daughter was born, Angel wrote a letter to Buffy, explaining everything: his humanity, his marriage, everything. A letter to which she never responded.
Maybe that was why things were so weird tonight. No, he knew better than that. It was weird because the spark was still there, because the love they felt was still simmering just beneath the surface. At least for him, Angel had a difficult time just being near her, knowing that he was married and she was married and there were so many obstacles they couldn’t cross.
Fighting another bout of tears, Angel parked his car and went inside the Chase mansion, groceries in hand. The first sounds he heard were the children laughing as they chased each other around the living room and the shouts of Cordelia as she scolded them. When Sean and Michael ran near him, Angel ran into their paths, picking them up like sacks of grain, on under each arm. He tackled them into the couch, gently of course, and began to tickle them until they screamed. This was happiness. Being able to enjoy the sounds of his children’s laughter, see their eyes shining in delight. No, he wouldn’t trade this for anything.
But his happiness was short-lived. Cordelia came up behind him, yelling at him for encouraging their behavior. Silently, he rose up to look at her, seeing the anger in her eyes. Turning back to the twins, he told them to go up to their rooms and get ready for bed.
“They were just being kids, Cordy. It was just a little fun. We used to have fun like that too. Don’t you remember?”
“No, don’t you dare pull that on me!! You do this all the time, Angel. I have to be the responsible adult when you get all the fun. It’s not fair, making me the bad guy.”
“The Bad Guy?? Cordy, you’re never here!! You’re always off shooting one film or another. I’m the one who ends up taking care of them. Besides, being a parent can be a lot of fun. You should try it sometime.”
“Speaking of fun, where were you tonight?? There’s no way you can say you were shopping the entire time, cause I know that you hate shopping.”
“I ran into an old friend, and we went out for a drink. It was no big deal.”
“Who was it? Another woman??”
“Are you insinuating something, Cordelia? Cause if you are, we can just stop having this conversation right now!”
“It WAS a woman. Who is she?? Do I know her?”
“Not that it’s any of YOUR business, but it was Buffy. Alright?”
“NO. It damn well is not alright!! I can’t believe you, Angel!! You went out to a bar with your ex-lover and left me here with the kids. That’s just great.”
“Look, it’s not what you think at all.” He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “We ran into each other at the store. All we did was talk, mostly about our spouses and children. So, like I said, it was no big deal. I married you, honey. I’m with you. I have been nothing but faithful to you, so you have nothing to worry about.”
Shaking her head, Cordelia shrugged off his hands. “I’m tired. I’m going to go to bed.”
“Okay.” He replied, kissing her gently on the lips. “I’ll tuck the kids in.” Angel watched his wife climb the stairs, as he wondered when things went wrong.
* * *
Buffy walked into her house, ushering her two, half-asleep children up to their rooms. Once they were safely tucked into bed, she made her way back to the car for her groceries. Downstairs in the kitchen, where she took the bags, she found the hospice nurse who stayed at the house at night, as she sat at the breakfast bar with her cup of tea.
“Hello, Kathy.”
“Hello, Buffy. Here, let me put those away.” The middle-aged woman offered, taking the brown sacks from her hands. “Go have some tea.”
“Thank you.” The blonde answered, pouring some hot water into one of the mugs on the counter. “How’s he doing tonight?”
“Not too bad, sweety. He was coming in and out for awhile, not remembering much, but it seems to have stopped. Physically, he’s improved a lot.”
“No more vomiting or headaches?” Buffy asked, afraid to feel the spark of hope rising in her body.
“Not tonight.” Kathy said, returning to the bar stool for her tea. “He was asking for you earlier.”
“Okay. I’m going to go see him. Thanks again, Kathy.” The older woman smiled, as Buffy walked out of the room and headed toward Sam’s room on the lower level of the house. They used to say up in the master bedroom suite on the second floor, but with Sam’s condition, she couldn’t afford to leave him up there where he could be hurt.
When she entered the smaller room, Buffy saw her husband lying still in the hospital bed they had brought here. He had an IV in his arm, to keep him hydrated and medicated. Sam was a lot thinner now, weighing about 120 lbs., and seemed at times to be nothing more than a pile of bones and flesh.
She made her way over to the bed and sat beside him, taking his frail hand in hers.
“Hey, baby.” His weak, hoarse voice whispered.
“Hey, honey.” She replied, in a whisper as well, as she kissed his palm. “Heard you were doing better today.”
“Yeah. I kept down the bowl of chicken broth Susan brought me.” She was the day nurse three days of the week.
“Oh, baby, that’s so great!” Buffy smiled brightly, seeing the hope and happiness in his eyes. As the tumors started to get larger, Sam was almost completely disabled, even unable to eat. She considered it a miracle that he still fought, still shined, through all of the pain. They both opted to stop the chemotherapy treatments after about a year, knowing that it would do no good for the large, rapidly growing cancer cells in his brain. Sam wanted the remainder of his time to be as peaceful as possible. And so did she.
Then, Kathy came into the room, a smaller form not far behind. “He came down here, wanting to see his father.” She said, pointing to Patrick. When Buffy nodded, the little boy came running over to her. He was hoisted onto her lap and looked down at his father with wide, shining eyes.
“Hey, Daddy.”
“Who are you?” The sick man asked, suddenly staring in confusion at the two people in front of him.
“Daddy, it’s me. Patrick. Don’t you remember?” Tears started to form behind the boy’s eyes. He tried to understand what was going on with his father’s illness, but it was still difficult to not be recognized.
“Who are you? What are you doing here? Leave me alone.” Sam tried to roll over but couldn’t summon up the energy, so he just slumped further into the bed, in an attempt to hide from the strangers.
Buffy lifted her son into her arms and carried him out into the living room. The boy had already started to cry, his sobs shaking his tiny body.
“Oh, honey, please don’t cry.” She said, rubbing his back in a soothing gesture, as she rocked him back and forth from her spot on the couch.
“H-he did-didn’t know m-me!!”
“Oh, baby. Your father knows you and loves you very much. It’s just that he’s having one of his episodes again. You know that his illness does that sometimes, making him not remember. But I promise that he knows you. You’re his son, his precious little boy, and he adores you!”
The boy’s sobs slowed a little, and he looked up into his mother’s green eyes. “Really? You mean it?”
“Of course.”
“Swear?”
“Cross my heart.” She said, making the ‘x’ across her chest. Patrick leaned into her, hugging her tightly, as he basked in his mother’s strength. “Okay, sweety, it’s time for bed now.”
“Okay, Mommy.” He said, consumed in a very large yawn. Buffy carried him back up to his room on the third floor. She tucked him in, giving him a kiss goodnight, and then checked on his sister, across the hall.
Seeing that Margaret was asleep, she walked down to the master bedroom. When Sam was disoriented, it was better for both of them that she slept elsewhere. Curling up on the king-sized bed, Buffy burst into tears. Things were so good for many years, all up until six months ago. Now, she almost didn’t recognize her life. Between the kids, the training of the new Slayer, the hospital trips, and the husband that didn’t know her more times than not, everything just seemed so surreal. Like she was watching from outside her body. How did her life get so messed up??
As the tears continued to fall, the guilt began to come in waves. After all that she’d been through, Buffy should be thankful for all she had. Yet at that moment, she wanted nothing else than to be in Angel’s arms, where she was safe from everything. But they were both married, and nothing could ever come of them anymore, right?
Leaning over, Buffy reached into the top drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a well-worn, folded envelope. She’d read Angel’s letter at least a million times, but tonight, she just needed to hold it. His words told of the dreams they shared and of all the promise the future held for them. He was HUMAN!! Finally, human. It came on the day she found out she was pregnant with Maggie. She could remember crying her eyes out at the injustice of it all, and yet rejoicing for her true love, that his work was finally complete. She wanted to run to him then. Forget everything and be with him, the way they had always hoped to. Instead, she hid the letter, never showing it to her husband.
Now, she clutched it like a lifeline, the guilt continuing to rise, as she dreamed restlessly of the impossible as her dying husband and two children slept through the night.
The End!
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