When Stars Collide
By: Serendipity

Part 24

< There's nothing I can do..... >

The words echoed through his head over and over again as he paced around his apartment, nearly clawing up the walls in grief and frustration.

It had been nearly 6 hours since he'd brought Willow's body to the library and if he'd had his own way, he'd still be there, sitting right alongside her. Unfortunately, after convincing Amy to mend the hacker's body, he'd been forced out of the room.

Well, in order to be fair to the witch, he recognized that they had ALL been forced out of the room. He sighed in frustration nonetheless and raked a hand through his dark hair.

Mainly, it was because her power was still fairly unstable and there were no guarantees on what would take place during the healing. They had been forced out both for their own safety as well as Willow's. It wasn't until that little fact was brought up that Angel, who cared very little about his own life, agreed to leave. Evidently ANY amount of excess energy in the room could backfire and destroy her body while she was in her weakened state.

Amy had requested eight hours of peace and he'd give it to her, but the instant the clock struck 2 he would be back in that library.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he put his head in his hands.

< If only I knew what to do next... > he smiled bitterly < where do souls fly off to? > If anyone should have ideas on the location of renegade souls, it was him. Unfortunately, he hadn't so much as a clue where to even begin to look.

< If only I hadn't gotten so close to her...she'd still be alive >

And yet, in his heart, he could never truly feel regret over their relationship. She, in that one short month, had meant more to him than anyone had throughout his entire life. And the most amazing part was how she'd accomplished it: simply being who she was and accepting him for who he was. She opened herself up to him physically, intellectually and emotionally, basically in every way humanly possible. He'd never be able to repay her for that gift. It was priceless.

Even more valuable than the ability to watch the sunrise.

He snorted at the irony of it all. It was late morning and his shades were still tightly pulled. Part of it was force of habit and part of it was the now-inextricable memories associated with the sunlight. He couldn't bear to even look at the darkened window. Not with the knowledge that outside, the world was bright and innocent and happy. It was completely undeserved. The birds shouldn't have been chirping, the sky shouldn't have been blue and the sun most certainly had no right to shine. < It should be raining. > he thought angrily < Dark and stormy. Fire and grayness intertwined. It should be pouring floods and the wind should be blowing. >

He sighed and lay back on the black silken sheets.

< If only she hadn't been seen with me. If only I'd been more careful with her. Spike would never have known to go after her. > Angel raised his head. His eyes glowed a mild yellow and he bared a hint of fang at the thought of the peroxide vampire. < He's signed his own death warrant. > It had already been set in his mind. Whether or not Willow survived, Spike was as good as dead.

He rolled over onto his stomach and buried his head in his pillow. Even with the other man destroyed, dusted and gone, it still wouldn't heal his own heart, Angel knew that well enough. It would be many years, perhaps a whole other lifetime before that happened.

And, although the pain would eventually fade with time, the memories never would.

He'd never forget the way she looked. The sound of her voice. The way her eyes danced when she laughed. The awkward curve of her lips when she smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears. Her modesty. Her kindness. Her intelligence. Nothing would clear his mind of any of those things.

Tears fell into the dark cloth as he recalled the peaceful expression on her face when he admitted his love for her.

< At least she died...happy. >

Nonetheless, it was all so unfair. All so terribly and utterly unfair. There was nothing crueler than realizing how much you loved someone too late to act upon it. And now, he'd give almost anything to get her back...

"Did anyone ever tell you that you sparkle, Angel?"

The sweet feminine voice echoed through his head. < Lord how I miss her... >

"With all different colors..almost like a kalidoscope. It's very pretty to watch."

It took him an additional moment to realize that the voice wasn't in his head.

Slowly, cautiously, he lifted his head off of the pillow, simultaneously scared out of his mind that it was only a dream and hopeful beyond belief that it wasn't.

She smiled at him. Her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail and she was clad in a slender white silk sheath.

"Willow?" It was her...and at the same time it wasn't.

Her smile widened and she nodded her head.

"You...look older." He couldn't believe it. She had been dead for what seemed like years while he'd nearly killed himself in grief and that was all he could think to say to her?

She nodded again, smiling more brightly, "Well, I am. I always was a bit older on the inside than I was on the outside. It only holds true that as a physical embodiment of who I was when I was alive, I'd look a bit more mature."

He just continued to stare at her in awe.

She giggled softly, the sound echoed oddly around the room.

"Did you know that souls are attracted to beauty?"

He sat up abruptly, his eyes widening.

She cocked her head at him shyly, "Not physical beauty...but...internal beauty," she advanced towards him slowly and stopped a few feet in front, "you're very beautiful, Angel," she murmured softly.

"Willow...," he reached out to touch her just as her own hand extended towards his chest.

Gradually he felt a wonderful warmth spread over him as her hand hovered a few inches above.

She giggled, looking distinctly pleased, "The colors are dancing again!" she exclaimed happily.

"I...I don't know what to say," his voice was hoarse from emotion, "How did you...why did you...?"

She sat down next to him, "Why is this so hard for you to believe?" she asked curiously.

"It's just that....you look so...so....alive."

And it was true. With a sparkle in her green eyes and a vibrant blush on her face, the figure beside him looked more flesh and blood than spirit.

"What were you expecting? Ghostly whiteness and transparent light?" she shook her head, "Commercialized nonsense."

Despite himself, he broke into a grin. Deep down, he knew it was her. It was Willow in the way she'd look and act in the not-too-distant future when her young body finally caught up with her advanced mind. The way she's appear when the awkwardness and gawkiness of youth were finally shed to reveal who she really was. The way she'd never get the opportunity to be.

"Why did you come here?" he asked.

"To say goodbye of course!!" she threw her arms around his shoulders in a jubilant hug, "And to see if you liked your birthday present!"

It was all so strange. Being hugged by her soul. Being enveloped in the very essence that was once the person he had loved so dearly. He could very well have died in that embrace and been eternally grateful for it.

"I loved the present," he whispered into her red hair, "thank you."

She pulled away from him and an aching emptiness invaded his heart, "I'm so happy," she smiled back, "And now I have to leave." With a gentle wave, she stood up and moved away.

"Stay with me, Willow," he asked quietly.

Shaking her head, she continued to back off, "Oh no, I can't do that, Angel. You know that."

"Why not?"

"Because...well, because I'm dead."

"Amy can save you."

"She can't bring me back to life, Angel."

"You're right, she can't. Only you can do that. She can heal your body, though."

A sad smile crossed the hackers pretty face and she gradually started to fade out of existence, "I'm sorry, Angel. It's a lovely idea, but I'm not allowed to. They won't let me."

"Who won't let you?"

Her features were rapidly becoming indistinguishable as she glanced upwards briefly before returning her gaze to his own, "They," she repeated, a playful smile on her lips.

He shook his head in frustration, "Well tell them that they have to."

"I can't," she was almost gone, "Not without a good enough reason."

"Tell them that your friends need you."

She shook her head, "I'm sorry, Angel."

"T-tell them that you have so much good you can still do here. It isn't your time."

"Goodbye."

He stood up desperately and grabbed at her arm, only to have his hands slip though thin air, "Tell them I love you, isn't that good enough?"

A sweet smile crossed her face as she finally vanished, leaving behind a long, painful silence.

Evidently, it wasn't.