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FEEDBACK: Please.
WEBSITE: Not yet but you can find everything I've done at www.fanfiction.net under username ShawnGF.
SUMMARY: After a dark knight named Kawin kills Connor, Angel travels to see Buffy, desperate for comfort and she is finally able to repay him for the hours he spent with her on the night of her moms' funeral.
NOTES: Takes place in S6/S3 with some minor changes. There's none of this C/A crap in existence. Spike and Buffy never dallied but she has been pretty restless and depressed. Buffy knows about Connor.
MUSIC: The lyrics are "Iris" from the Goo Goo Dolls.
DEDICATION: To my cohorts in lousing, Cim and Nate. To the absentee Trin. To Ducks who is Yoda and to all the Babblers.

"And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know
that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
'Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight"

***

I've lost so much in my life. Kind of the story of it, really. I find something to love, which is rare enough, and then inevitably it is either taken from me or I destroy it. And then I fall to my knees and wonder if there is any possible way for me to stand again.

God help me but this time I think I'm done.

I think I was a good father. I loved him with everything I had inside of me. Everything that was the sum of me. But you know what, that didn't stop the rain. Or the thunder. Or the lightening.

Or Kawin.

I'd never heard of him before but he swept through the night with a broadsword in his massive hands and it was over before I could get out the word "no".

No.

It's a simple word really but my voice betrayed me. In the moment that mattered the most, once again, I was no hero or champion, I was simply a pathetic shell of a man who allowed his son to be killed for his sins.

All my life. The story of it. People have always suffered because of me.

And then, selfishly, what angers me the most, they've left me behind, alive, to be washed away in my torment.

Things were too good. Even I know that now. I was enjoying life, thinking of the future and hey, even a few maybes.

You know, maybe I'll get to see my son graduate from college. Maybe I'll get to be at his wedding. Maybe eventually my beloved will come to join me. Maybe there's hope.

So ultimately and yes indeed, I brought this on myself. My selfishness, my hope...it all overwhelmed me. And I let my guard done.

My son is dead because of that.

How can I possibly walk again?

Why should I care?

I keep going over it all in my head. I see myself standing above his crib. He looks up at me and I swear he's smiling. Then I go downstairs to get my laundry. I'm gone maybe five minutes. When I return, Kawin is standing over his crib.

No.

I don't manage to get the word out.

My son was laid to rest this morning.

Tell me then, why the fuck should I care?

***

The cool night air brushed through his dark hair but he barely noticed. He stared at the road ahead of him, trying desperately to beat back the demons in his mind.

He could tell that he was falling fast, sinking deeper into the black abyss of his agony and pain. Which meant that time was running out.

His mind screamed at him to stop. To use his head. To know that there was no way that she could help him.

She was the past. A phantom shadow.

"No," he said urgently, his voice trembling, "My always."

He didn't know if it was true anymore but he needed it to be. His heart and soul were hers but he desperately needed hers to be his. He needed to be able to fall into her arms and let all of the pain leak away.

Something only she could offer.

Unless the world had moved on. Unless she had.

Not to another guy. Even he knew that lovers and friends would come and go throughout her life. No, the moving on he was talking about was from the belief in them.

He shook his head. It would serve him right if she had. It wasn't like he hadn't placed enough burdens upon her. First he'd left her for reasons that were starting to fog up a little more with each passing day. Then there had been the arguments between them over the nature of each in the others' life. And then of course, there had been Connor.

Buffy had been wonderful really but he had known simply from the tone of her voice that she was crushed. He now had a bond with another woman that it was unlikely he would ever have with her. Nevermind that Darla was dead, it had still hurt her. He knew.

But she had accepted it by saying softly that if it were Angel's child, well then, it was perfect. And that was simply the end of that. She would speak no more of it aside from saying that she looked forward to meeting the little guy.

And he had loved her more than ever for it.

Now all he had was the hope that she loved him just as much. And that maybe she would open her arms to him and give him the peace he do desperately needed.

Buffy. His Buffy.

"God, please let her be my Buffy."

***

Life is pain.

Every day and every moment.

The best we can do is find a way to keep moving. To keep living.

Since I came back, that's all I've been trying to do. And not with a lot of success.

I dream a lot these days but none of it really makes much sense. Was I in heaven? Or is that too an illusion and a dream?

I don't know anymore.

By body itches and I feel like my soul is burning. My skin doesn't quite fit and every step I take seems to force blades through my feet.

Yeah, makes no sense to me either. Crazy weird. Yep yep.

And then there's Angel. My sweet Angel.

Things get crazier every single day. I search for the ground that is supposed to be beneath my feet. Again, my success is limited.

Something is wrong with him.

He left a message on my machine and it sounded like he was crying or damn near to tears. All he said was that he needed to see me and could he come see me and then that he was coming to see me.

My Angel is hurt.

It's funny how then can be so much distance between us, hell even sometimes so much anger but when it hurts the most, we're all each other sees. Like tunnel vision.

He's hurt and he's coming to me.

Something tingles up my spine and I gasp a bit before realizing that it's just a reaction to my own thoughts.

I've been so alone for so long.

That's partly my own fault. I know my friends and family would come to me if I'd let them. I don't because I guess I'm afraid of what they'll see.

A cold dark shadow of a former warrior? A mockery of a once good person? Hell, maybe even a monster? Who knows anymore.

I look in the mirror and everything has changed. There is ice around me. I look old and haggard. I terrify myself.

And then stupidly, insanely really, I wonder if Angel will recoil when he sees me. God..I really am that selfish. Yes, a monster indeed.

He called me two months ago and told me that he had something to tell me; that he had a son with Darla. Everything in me died all over again.

And then he said softly, "But I'll wish for the rest of my life that he was yours."

And then now, as I sit here wallowing in my misery, it all hits me. Good God I am a monster.

Something is wrong with Connor.

I drop my head.

***

"You okay, Buff?" Xander asked as he stepped into her room. He'd been watching her for a few minutes.

She turned and smiled at him. Or at least tried to. It wasn't terribly convincing. "Fine, Xan."

He moved around to sit next to her on the board. He dropped his head against her shoulder. "Wanna do Bad Indian Movie Night?"

She laughed then, this time for real. "God, how long has it been?"

"Forever," he admitted, a hint of sadness in his voice. He slipped an arm around her back and pulled her closer. "Seems like we've all gone so many different ways."

"Yeah," she agreed, looking down and away. That simple truth hurt more than she had thought it would.

For awhile they had been a team. An indestructible team. Made of friends and family, the Scoobs had weathered every problem. But times had changed. So many things were different.

And cold.

"So what do you say?" Xan asked, offering up his best doofus grin. "Tonight, you, me and Wills..no others.."

She frowned, "I can't."

"Oh," he said, the disappointment clear in his eyes. He looked down and away. "Well you know..just a stupid idea.."

She grabbed his arm as he started to stand and pulled him back down so that he was sitting again. "I can't tonight. But tomorrow I can."

He grinned and nodded, "Then tomorrow it is. So, big date?"

"Nothing quite so cheery," she admitted. "Angel is coming into town."

"So why the tragedy mask then?" Xand queried, his brow creasing. "I thought you guys were in the slowly but surely trying to figure out a way to maybe in the future potentially make it work stage."

"Something's wrong," Buffy replied. Then she shook her head. "Xan, I think something is wrong with Connor."

He studied her for a moment, looking for any sign of humour and then he sighed. "Is there anything I can do?"

She reached out for his hand. "Just be my friend, Xan." She paused and took a deep breath. "I need you more than ever."

He smiled at her, so boyishly and for a moment she thought she was 17 again. "Always for my Buffster."

***

I arrive first at the little diner on the pier. It's quiet and secluded but it reeks of rotten fish. That said, it'll do. This isn't supposed to be a candlelight dinner. I just want to see her.

I want her to hold me. And tell me that this nightmare isn't really happening.

Because it can't be.

What did I do wrong?

Was it leaving the room? I should have left someone with him. I thought it was only going to be five minutes. Maybe I was actually gone six. God.

Was it thinking I actually had the right to be even a little happy? Deluding myself into the belief that maybe my nights of self-hatred and loneliness were alone. At least for the next 18 years anyways.

And then my mind gets just a bit crazy and suddenly I'm wondering if he was at least warm in his blanket when he died. Did he know I loved him? Was he warm?

I feel a hand touch my face and I look up. I blink. "Buffy?"

She smiles at me but her look is so sad. She kneels beside me. "You're crying," she tells me. She takes my hand in hers and guides it across my cheek and I realize she's right. Then she lifts our joined palms and brings them to her lips. She kisses my hand lightly. "I'm here, baby."

***

"What happened?" Buffy asked as she moved around the table to sit in the chair opposite him. She suddenly realized that she didn't even want that much distance between them.

"He's dead," Angel replied dully, his dark eyes bubbling with tears. "He's de..de..de.." His voice disolved into a ragged harsh sob.

She moved around the table again, this time moving with the speed and grace of a cheetah. As he began to topple from his chair, the pain overwhelming him, she caught him and crushed him to her chest. "Shh," she said, rocking him. She wanted to tell him that it was ok but that would have been a lie and he deserved better.

"Come on," she said, lifting him up. "We should have never met here." She looked around and noticed two waiters watching them with curiosity. Wrapping an arm around his waist, she helped him out to her green SUV. Her mom's..

She blinked.

It hadn't been so long ago that Angel had rushed to her side to comfort her in her darkest moments in the aftermath of Joyce Summers' sudden and abrupt death.

"Full circle," she whispered, helping her lover into the vehicle. She moved around to the other door and slid in, hearing it click behind her.

***

When my mom died, everything came to a frantic stop. Except my mind of course. That continued on like a short-track skater. Full speed towards a complete wipe-out.

If I had come home sooner, would that have made a difference? If I wasn't the Slayer? If..if..if...

Those thoughts eat you up inside. There was nothing I could have done. And probably nothing Angel could have. That hardly matters.

My mother. His son.

I can remember the sound of his voice when he told me about Connor. He was ecstatic. He was flying. And despite Darla's connection to his son, I too was delighted.

No more so than when he said he wished Connor were mine. In the back of my mind, at that exact moment I thought to myself..well maybe..you know..eventually.

But we both forgot.

We live in the skin we were made with and even as the fire peels it away, we endure. I am the Slayer. He is the Souled Vampire.

Our destiny is to save the world. Our epic is loneliness. Our tragedy is separation through necessity.

Our only hope is each other.

***

Slayer or not, dragging him into the motel room was not easy. She laid him down on the bed and then dropped down next to him.

"Angel?"

He lifted his head to look at her, weariness etched into every handsome crease of his face. He was so tired. And so horribly sad.

"What happened?"

"Kawin."

Buffy blinked. "That weird underworld knight with the six horns."

"You've met him?"

"In passing. He's living with a few other demons over on Route 3. They haven't caused any trouble so I've..oh God..Angel.." She pulled back and away from him, the horror washing over in nauseating waves.

He caught on quickly. Unable to muster the energy to be emphatic he simply said, "It wasn't your fault, love. Kawin was hired to do it. If not him then another assassin."

"Why?"

"That I don't know." He said angrily. " Fuck all those prophecies..he's just a baby..just.." the tears began to fall again and then he buried his head into his hands.

She lifted his chin, "It's not your fault either, you know that right?"

"Isn't it?" he demanded, harsher then he intended. "He was my son..it was my duty to protect him." He thrust out a closed palm and then slowly ticked off his fingers. "1..2..3..4..5. 5 minutes I was gone."

"Angel.."

"I let him down.."

Lacking the words or the experience to cauterize the wound in his heart and soul, she simply leaned over him and pressed her lips to his. "You are a good man. And a good father. What happened wasn't your fault. You said it yourself..if not Kawin..then another.."

"I brought him into this hell," he choked out before he dropped against her, clutching onto her with all of the desperation he had within him.

And she held him. "I know it doesn't mean much..but I'm here. I promise you..I'll always be here."

He looked up at her and then whispered softly, "That's all that means anything to me anymore."

"Me too," she murmured, dropping her head to rest atop his. "I won't let you go if you don't."

Holding onto her as tightly as he could he began to mumble, "Never never never.."

And all she could do was rock him.

***

Route 3 is always quiet at night. The demons tend to branch out after ten and not return until just before sunrise. So far they haven't caused me any trouble so I haven't caused them any.

That's about to change tonight.

I forgot my way. I forgot my mission.

Angel is right. If it hadn't been Kawin, then it would have been another of Wolfram and Hart's many assassins. That doesn't change things. I could have- should have- prevented it from being Kawin.

Never again.

I stand outside the underground cement shelter that Kawin and his friends live in. I wait for them. I'll way forever if I have to.

I won't let Angel sacrifice his soul further in pursuit of revenge. I'll do my job. I had forgotten it.

Never again.

***

She returned sometime before seven and crawled into bed with him. He was sleeping, not soundly certainly but just the same. She could see the tears streaking his face. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer to her. She kissed his cheek.

Always.

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