Ficlet: Sunlight
Character/Pairing: Angel, Buffy/Angel (PG)
Length: 982 words
Summary: Angel POV through Buffy 2.20-22, "The Prom"-"Graduation Day" and Angel 1.03, "In The Dark."
Sunlight
* * *
I.
Angel knows she’s angry (he knew she would be, he’d prepared for it), and he lets her say the things she needs to. He explains why he has to leave Sunnydale, the best way he can. Buffy has a hard time hearing it, because she’s still only eighteen, and the world’s on her shoulders, and she wants him to be there for her precisely when she needs him and doesn’t want to understand why he can’t.
Her words come out selfish. He knows she’ll feel sore about it later, but she won’t show him that part of it. She’ll keep that part to herself because it’s easier for her to be closed off than open her heart for him, only to have him hurt it again.
The truth is that part of him wants to be selfish back, to show her the anger and frustration and the desperate disenchantment that his life has become, and ask her to open herself just enough to see that the reasons why he has to leave have nothing to do with his happiness and everything to do with hers. But he can’t show her that, because as much as he wants her to understand him, there is too much about him he doesn’t want her to see.
He’ll leave, and he’ll protect her for a little while more, because he loves her like he misses the sun, and he’s had the world on his shoulders for much longer than eighteen years.
* * *
II.
As he comes to his senses again, Angel can taste her in his mouth, and the horror of knowing that it’s her blood he’s tasting, that it’s her blood that’s in him, is nothing like the shock of seeing her lying there. She’s just lying there, all pale and still, but when he touches her cheek it’s still warm, and she’s breathing. She’s breathing.
He lurches to his feet and lifts her up, and wonders how fast he can reach the hospital from the mansion. All the while he’s carrying her he’s making promises to her, and giving to her in his mind all the things he knows he has to take away when she wakes up again. He’s telling himself it wasn’t selfish, because she asked him to do it, but it’s hard not to feel that way when it’s his teeth that were on her neck, and her body that’s been consumed.
Angel’s relieved he knew when to stop, and he’s comforted by the confidence she had in him to know it. More than either of those things he’s thankful that it’s night, and the sunlight isn’t here to keep him from bringing her back.
* * *
III.
Angel likes the new building well enough, and even though the apartment is small it’s still enough room for him. But it’s the view from the roof that gives him the real feeling of space.
He’d gotten used to hiding, in Sunnydale. The town was so small he knew all the places he could go. In Los Angeles there’s so much more, too many people whose lives shouldn’t be as hard as they are, and the view reminds him of it. Even the darkness is bigger, somehow, which he finds strangely comforting, and it slips over him like a well-worn coat. The shadows are easier to wear in a city like this, because here he’s not the only one wearing them.
* * *
IV.
There’s a moment, just before he puts the ring on, when he’s terrified even to move. Underneath the pier with his feet still in the water, he’s safe, trapped in a box of shadow. All he needs to do is cloak himself and run back to the van and things will return to the way they were, but instead he puts the ring on, and then nothing is the way it was.
Cordelia’s rushing toward him as he wades out into the light. She’s asking him if he’s okay, but he’s holding up his hand to shield his eyes because it’s too bright, and he has no idea if he’s okay.
Angel feels how cold the wet sand is around his feet and the water soaking his clothing. It doesn’t feel like it did a few moments ago, because now he can feel how warm the sun is, and he’s starting to shiver. The others are ready to leave, but he keeps walking, just to remind himself that this sensation even exists: that it’s possible to feel this kind of warmth and not begin to burn.
* * *
V.
For the rest of Los Angeles, the day ends with orange and rose coloured light, when the sun sinks below the horizon; Angel’s day ends with a burst of green, when the brick in his hand smashes against the gem. It turns out to be easier than he thought it would be.
Doyle asked him, was he sure? Didn’t he want keep it for a little while longer? Of course he does, but that isn’t what this is about, in the end; this has never been about what would make him happy. He’s had the whole day to think about it and wish on it, to try to make a deal with the weaker part of himself. It’s the same thing he did in Sunnydale, but in the end he came to the same decision then, too, because if there’s anything he knows how to do, it’s how to walk away from the things that might turn out too well.
But he knows that in the life he has, you only get lucky so many times, and there’s only so much you can trade away. In a lifetime of darkness, one day of sunlight has to be enough to fill the shadows; for him, it’s the only option there is.
* * *
Length: 982 words
Summary: Angel POV through Buffy 2.20-22, "The Prom"-"Graduation Day" and Angel 1.03, "In The Dark."
Sunlight
* * *
I.
Angel knows she’s angry (he knew she would be, he’d prepared for it), and he lets her say the things she needs to. He explains why he has to leave Sunnydale, the best way he can. Buffy has a hard time hearing it, because she’s still only eighteen, and the world’s on her shoulders, and she wants him to be there for her precisely when she needs him and doesn’t want to understand why he can’t.
Her words come out selfish. He knows she’ll feel sore about it later, but she won’t show him that part of it. She’ll keep that part to herself because it’s easier for her to be closed off than open her heart for him, only to have him hurt it again.
The truth is that part of him wants to be selfish back, to show her the anger and frustration and the desperate disenchantment that his life has become, and ask her to open herself just enough to see that the reasons why he has to leave have nothing to do with his happiness and everything to do with hers. But he can’t show her that, because as much as he wants her to understand him, there is too much about him he doesn’t want her to see.
He’ll leave, and he’ll protect her for a little while more, because he loves her like he misses the sun, and he’s had the world on his shoulders for much longer than eighteen years.
* * *
II.
As he comes to his senses again, Angel can taste her in his mouth, and the horror of knowing that it’s her blood he’s tasting, that it’s her blood that’s in him, is nothing like the shock of seeing her lying there. She’s just lying there, all pale and still, but when he touches her cheek it’s still warm, and she’s breathing. She’s breathing.
He lurches to his feet and lifts her up, and wonders how fast he can reach the hospital from the mansion. All the while he’s carrying her he’s making promises to her, and giving to her in his mind all the things he knows he has to take away when she wakes up again. He’s telling himself it wasn’t selfish, because she asked him to do it, but it’s hard not to feel that way when it’s his teeth that were on her neck, and her body that’s been consumed.
Angel’s relieved he knew when to stop, and he’s comforted by the confidence she had in him to know it. More than either of those things he’s thankful that it’s night, and the sunlight isn’t here to keep him from bringing her back.
* * *
III.
Angel likes the new building well enough, and even though the apartment is small it’s still enough room for him. But it’s the view from the roof that gives him the real feeling of space.
He’d gotten used to hiding, in Sunnydale. The town was so small he knew all the places he could go. In Los Angeles there’s so much more, too many people whose lives shouldn’t be as hard as they are, and the view reminds him of it. Even the darkness is bigger, somehow, which he finds strangely comforting, and it slips over him like a well-worn coat. The shadows are easier to wear in a city like this, because here he’s not the only one wearing them.
* * *
IV.
There’s a moment, just before he puts the ring on, when he’s terrified even to move. Underneath the pier with his feet still in the water, he’s safe, trapped in a box of shadow. All he needs to do is cloak himself and run back to the van and things will return to the way they were, but instead he puts the ring on, and then nothing is the way it was.
Cordelia’s rushing toward him as he wades out into the light. She’s asking him if he’s okay, but he’s holding up his hand to shield his eyes because it’s too bright, and he has no idea if he’s okay.
Angel feels how cold the wet sand is around his feet and the water soaking his clothing. It doesn’t feel like it did a few moments ago, because now he can feel how warm the sun is, and he’s starting to shiver. The others are ready to leave, but he keeps walking, just to remind himself that this sensation even exists: that it’s possible to feel this kind of warmth and not begin to burn.
* * *
V.
For the rest of Los Angeles, the day ends with orange and rose coloured light, when the sun sinks below the horizon; Angel’s day ends with a burst of green, when the brick in his hand smashes against the gem. It turns out to be easier than he thought it would be.
Doyle asked him, was he sure? Didn’t he want keep it for a little while longer? Of course he does, but that isn’t what this is about, in the end; this has never been about what would make him happy. He’s had the whole day to think about it and wish on it, to try to make a deal with the weaker part of himself. It’s the same thing he did in Sunnydale, but in the end he came to the same decision then, too, because if there’s anything he knows how to do, it’s how to walk away from the things that might turn out too well.
But he knows that in the life he has, you only get lucky so many times, and there’s only so much you can trade away. In a lifetime of darkness, one day of sunlight has to be enough to fill the shadows; for him, it’s the only option there is.
* * *