FIC: My Sacrifice
Title: My Sacrifice
Summary: Buffy and Angel can never be. Angel knows this and it haunts him.
Timeline: Post-I Will Remember You
Rating: G
Genre: Humor
Word Count: ~400
His heart felt like a barren wasteland, just an empty dead thing inside his chest. But in his mind, he could still feel her. The memory of her scent, her touch, her smile. God, the way she’d looked at him in the sunlight. The feel of the sun on his face…
It was the closest he’d ever come to heaven. He knew it.
That’s why it couldn’t last. He didn’t deserve heaven. He didn’t deserve her.
“Angel?” Cordy gently rapped on his bedroom door. “Angel?”
He heard the doorknob turn and was immediately grateful he’d locked it. He needed his privacy.
“Hey! Don’t even think about sinking into broodface. We’ve got a case! Okay, it’s not supernatural, but it pays. Come on-up and at ‘em! Time to take the world by the throat and give it a good saving.” She paused. “Angel? You are in there, right?”
His head tipped down slightly and he stared blindly at the door.
I’ll never forget, Buffy, he vowed. I’ll never forget.
“Angel!” Cordy banged on the door. “Enough with the woe-is-me! Just ‘cause Buffy showed up for all of five minutes and brought a thundercloud of angsty badness with her doesn’t mean you get to play hookey. Remember the helpless that need helping? Yeah, I thought so. Let’s go, bucko!” She banged on the door again. “Angel!”
Angel rolled his eyes. Couldn’t Cordy understand he was busy?
He stood and walked toward his nightstand, fiddling with the clock radio Cordy’d given him a few weeks ago so he would wake up to music and start the day in a better mood. Turning the dial, he searched for the right station and then cranked up the volume. Not for him, of course. Vampire hearing meant he didn’t need it turned louder than a whisper for him to appreciate the music.
Nope, he was sending a message.
He walked back to his dark corner, sank into the chair and resumed optimal brooding position-slumped shoulders, head hanging down, vacant expression save the pain in his eyes. The music played on and he found his eyes drifting closed. He crooned softly, “My sacrifice…”
“Oh, my god.” Cordy sounded horrified. “Doyle! We’ve got an emergency! He’s listening to Creed again!”
*