Work Text:
“Always,” the book of poetry is dedicated in his elegant script. Or had been, before she lost it. Before her birthday turned into even more of a nightmare than it had already been.
The Cruciamentum is over, but Buffy’s strength is slow to return. The first night afterwards, she does the responsible thing, stays in with her mom.
The second night, much though she tries, her mind won’t stop whirling, replaying all the injustices of the past few days. After several restless hours, she can’t stand it anymore. She leaves the safety of her house and flees to the mansion, to the one person with whom she can be vulnerable.
In the shelter of Angel’s arms, the whole painful tale spills out, and she cries for Giles’s betrayal and the Council’s cruelty and the horror of her mother’s abduction.
Buffy lets him walk her home, like she’d been too proud to allow two nights ago. And when they reach Revello Drive and are back in her darkened bedroom, she finds she is not ready to let go.
“Stay with me tonight?”
He hesitates only a minute before giving her a gentle smile that says he understands how much it costs her to ask. “If that’s what you wish.”
He won’t join her in bed, of course, won’t risk that temptation, but he stands guard at her window, and she can feel his watchful eyes on her even as he blends into the shadows.
As the sense of his protective presence soothes her towards sleep, she contemplates the wonder of a love that has survived betrayal and curses and Hell. Forever, that’s the whole point. No matter what goes wrong, whatever else her freaky life should throw at her, she can trust to this: Angel is strong and sure and always.