Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. No copyright infringement intended.
Clouds skidded rapidly across the moon as Angel traced the inscription on the headstone with bleak eyes. Despair washed over him and he sank down onto the grass at the foot of the grave. Two years. She had been dead for two years. He knew only too well what her body, locked away in the cold earth, would look like now But the image of her the last time he had seen her swam before his eyes.
It had been the night of her high school graduation, and the night of their last fight. A simple, very mundane fight about their relationship, or rather, the lack thereof. It was then that he had made the decision to leave Sunnydale. He'd been angry, frustrated and so tired of fighting, with her and with his demon. Leaving had seemed the best thing to do. Tonight he'd returned and found her dead.
Guilt and doubt wrapped icy claws around his soul. How had it happened? Could he have stopped it? He buried his face in his hands, raking fingers through his dark hair. She had died and he hadn't been there... "Angel?" The soft, familiar voice made him look up. Willow knelt in the grass beside him. He hadn't even heard her approach. "I knew you'd be back." she said when he didn't reply.
"How did it happen?" He whispered hoarsely. "When?" She sat down beside him. Her easy movement made him study her more closely.
Two years had changed her. She had blossomed. The shy awkward girl was gone and a self-confident, graceful woman had taken her place. A woman who had seen a lot in four short years. There was a new hardness in her eyes and he glimpsed the stake tucked into her jacket pocket. Willow certainly had changed. Her quiet voice penetrated his reflection.
"It happened about two weeks after graduation. A fire. Buffy set it herself. She took out Spike and Drucilla, but she sacrificed herself. She was trapped. By the time we could get to her, we knew there was no way she was going to make it."
Willow's voice was calm, but Angel looked up to see the moonlight reflecting off the tears that streaked her cheeks. She took a deep breath and went on but Angel wasn't sure he wanted to hear more.
"She had third degree burns over eighty-five percent of her body. She was gone by the time the ambulance got there. Angel turned away, guilt ripping into him anew. Willow took his arm and turned him back to face her. The self-recrimination in his eyes was easy to see.
"Angel, don't." she said sharply. "The fire burned so hot and so fast. There was nothing you could have done to save her." The pain in his expression tore at her. She couldn't stand to see the guilt there. She hesitated and her own face softened. "I thought you would want to know. Her last words were about you. Angel, she never stopped loving you."
Angel closed his eyes and let the tears come at last. If only he had had the chance to tell her he was sorry. Willow lightly touched his shoulder. "There's more. I think this was for all of us. She said 'forget regret.'" He looked up. "What does that mean?" he asked harshly. "I think it means we need to let her go. She was always telling me to seize the moment. That's what she did that night in the warehouse. She saw the chance to rid the world of a little more evil and she took it. Even though she knew it meant she wouldn't get out. She was smiling, at the end. She looked so peaceful. She fought so hard when she was here. I have to believe that she's someplace where she can rest now."
Angel stared unseeingly out over the graveyard, letting Willow's words settle over him. When he had been alive he had been a devout Catholic. Angelus...named for the prayer of the Incarnation. A faint smile touched his lips.
Even now, despite the demon, he had a strong faith in a just, loving God. Perhaps she really had gone onto a better place. A place where no evil could follow. Where he could never follow. "I never told her I loved her, Willow. I knew this would happen someday, but I always thought I'd be there when it did." He looked up at her and his fathomless eyes shimmered with tears. "What am I supposed to do without her?" Willow took his hand, "Keep fighting, I guess. In her memory. The evil is still here, if not greater than ever. I think it's what she would want."
He gripped the slender fingers that rested in his own. "She gave me someplace to belong. "Willow smiled. "She gave us all someplace to belong. She tied us all together and I don't think that those bonds can be broken." She turned and met his eyes. "You'll always have a home here, Angel. As long as Giles and I and even Xander are alive, you'll have a family."
Sincerity rang in her voice and she saw his eyes clear. The crushing sorrow lightened a bit. Leaning forward, she hugged him fiercely. "I'm glad you came back." she whispered. "Me too." he replied, surprised to find it was true.
They separated and a comfortable silence settled between them. Finally Willow glanced up at the sky. "It'll be light soon." They stood and Willow placed a white rose at the base of the headstone.
They remained there for a moment. A cold breeze dried their tears and in the west the last stars shone brightly. In the east pale streaks of pink filled the sky.
Together they turned away. As they stepped onto the white gravel path that led to the iron gates, Angel looked back.
"Goodbye." he whispered.
There's only us,
There's only this,
Forget regret
Or life is yours to miss.
-Rent