Close Your Eyes

Prologue

“Angel?” Cordelia’s voice broke the silence of the mansion. “Are you ok?” He didn’t answer her, didn’t even move. She shot Wesley a panicked look and crouched down in front of her friend. “Angel? Can you hear me?”

Wesley reached out a hand and pulled her gently away to sit next to him on the couch opposite Angel. He put his arm around her and she leaned into him for comfort. It had been a thoroughly awful day. No week, no month, no… Cordelia sighed. If she felt this bad, she’d hate to feel the way Angel must be feeling.

They had arrived back from the Host’s dimension just in time to attend Buffy’s funeral. After Angel’s first acknowledgement of her death, he hadn’t said another word. Willow had explained to the stunned group what had happened and they had returned to Sunnydale the same night.

Cordelia wished they could have returned under better circumstances. She hadn’t been back to Sunnydale in two years, and she felt awkward meeting the others, seeing their grief. She hadn’t been that close to Buffy, but they had been friends once upon a time and the idea that she was dead was a little unbelievable to Cordy. Wesley too had had trouble taking it in. They kept expecting her to walk through the door at any minute and tell them there had been some huge mistake.

But it wasn’t a mistake. And after being such a rock for Angel’s sake over the past week, she simply couldn’t take the image of Buffy’s coffin being lowered into the ground and had let go of her tears along with everyone else. She had said goodbye to someone she wished she’d gotten to know better when she’d had the chance and now she had to go back to being strong for Angel.

“I could have saved her.”

Cordelia and Wesley both jumped at the pain filled words and looked sharply at Angel. “No Angel. Don’t think like that.”

“I should have been here. She told me not leave. She asked me to stay. Over and over. And I didn’t. I didn’t do what she wanted. I could have saved her.”

Wesley leaned forward in his seat. “Angel, there’s no point blaming yourself for this. Nothing you could have done would have stopped it. We all knew that this day would come. The problem is Buffy is so good at what she does…” Wesley stopped, realising he was speaking in the present tense again. He couldn’t do it. Right now he couldn’t say anything supportive. He hadn’t known Buffy long or well, but he had known her and he mourned her along with everyone else.

“If I had been here it wouldn’t have happened,” Angel asserted angrily.

“Angel, stop. This isn’t helping anyone. I know guilt is your big thing, but this time it’s just not necessary.”

“No Cor, this is my fault. If I hadn’t left, Buffy wouldn’t be dead.”

“No, of course not,” Cordelia responded sarcastically. “She’d never of selflessly sacrificed herself if you had been here. You know if your going to spend the rest of your life regretting Buffy things, why don’t you start with something really big, like your soul? If you hadn’t lost your soul we’d have all lived happily ever after.”

Part One

It was a beautiful spot really. Dawn would have liked it. The old tree sheltered the ground and the sun would shine through the branches creating patterns and shadows that would have enthralled Dawn when she was young.

Except she was never young. Not really. Or she had been young when she was alive. She wasn’t even a year old. So why was there fourteen years worth of loss? Why did Buffy feel like she had been ripped in two?

She watched as the coffin was lowered gently into the ground and she gripped her companion’s hand tighter. His own eyes never left the casket, but he knew exactly what she felt and squeezed her hand in a punishing grip of his own.

The priest was murmuring something Buffy couldn’t understand. She hadn’t understood the last time either when it had been her mother inside the coffin. She had just stood like this, holding Dawn and wishing that she would wake up from her nightmare very soon.

Someone stirred behind her and she glanced back, angry that she had been disturbed. Dawn deserved respect. Dawn had saved them all. Had saved the world. No one should be moving. But everyone was moving. The service was over. It was time to leave. 

Buffy looked to Willow who was standing to her left with Tara. Her eyes were red but her face held the same defeated look as Buffy’s. They had lost too much this time. It was over. Willow seemed to feel Buffy’s eyes on her and looked up at her friend. The Slayer moved a step closer and wrapped her best friend in a powerful embrace. They didn’t speak. There were no clichéd words of condolence. There was no need. They felt each other’s pain innately.

The other mourners moved away, leaving six people by Dawns’ grave. Buffy felt a tug on her right hand and looked up, her attention caught by her father’s words as he stood on the opposite side of the grave. “…time to go home, don’t you Buffy?”

The Slayer shook her head. She didn’t want to go home. Home was for her family. She had lost her family. She only had Willow now. And Tara. And Spike.

“Buffy…” her father continued more firmly, ignoring the black looks he was receiving from his daughter’s friends.

“I think you should let Buffy stay, Mr. Summers,” Angel interrupted, sensing that Buffy, Spike and Willow would probably hurt the man very soon if he continued talking. “Why don’t you go on ahead?”

Hank Summers glanced at the tall, dark man who stood slightly behind him and nodded.

“Do you want us to stay?” Willow asked Buffy as Mr Summers moved away and Angel followed slowly, his gaze never leaving the blonde vampire Slayer until he reached his car. Buffy shook her head at her friend’s question. “No you and Tara go home… rest. You’ll need to sleep before tomo…” Buffy trailed off, realising that they’d have to do this all over again tomorrow. “I’m just going to stay here for a while.”

As Willow and Tara left hand in hand, Buffy sunk slowly to the ground, still gripping Spike’s hand tightly, pulling him down beside her. He wrapped his arms around her slender form and she leant back against him.

They sat like that for what seemed like hours; the only sound and movement, that of Buffy’s breathing. “I want my mom,” Buffy finally broke the silence between them.

“So do I luv,” Spike concurred, finding his voice strangely hoarse for once. “Joyce’d know exactly what to do.”

Buffy turned her head so that she was gazing straight up into his face and watched the emotions flicker in his expressive eyes. “You feel that too?” she asked. “Like nothing makes sense and you don’t know what to do next?”

Spike nodded. “Everyday. But it’s worse now. Dawn you know, she was like…” he stopped and seemed embarrassed as if he didn’t know how to explain what he wanted to say.

“What?” she whispered.

Following her lead, Spike lowered his voice so as not to disturb the peace of Dawn’s resting place. “She was like the calm in the storm to me. Just like her sister.”

Buffy jerked slightly in reaction to the last part. Her eyes asked the question she couldn’t voice. Spike sighed slightly and tucked her head back against his shoulder as he gently stroked her hair. “You’re my centre Buffy. And Dawn she’s… was you. She’d only have to be there in the room and I’d know things were right. She reminded me of my sister.”

“You had a sister? What happened to her?” If the answer had anything to do with biting or railroad spikes, Buffy was going to kill him with her bare hands.

“Don’t worry Slayer, I didn’t feast on my family, unlike other vampires who will remain nameless. No, Becky died when she was Dawn’s age. She was just like her. Pretty, bright, lively. I never stopped missing her.”

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen. It happened so fast. She caught something, something that you could cure now just by staying home in bed for a few days and drinking lots of water. It was different then.”

“And I remind you of her too?” Buffy asked curiously.

“No,” Spike answered shortly and then continued more softly, “You’re not my sister Buffy. Dawn was my sister, but not you. Never you.”

Before Buffy had time to respond to that curious comment, thunder sounded in the distance and the Slayer and vampire stood to leave when they felt the first drops of rain. It had been overcast all day, enabling Spike and Angel to attend the funeral. It was weather to welcome the beginning of the end.

****

Angel glanced at Buffy and then back down at the coffin. This was the second funeral in as many days and there’d be another tomorrow. Angel wondered when it had all gone wrong. When his happy, loving relationship with Buffy had started to fail. When he had realised that sometimes love wasn’t enough. That maybe, just maybe they weren’t true soul mates after all.

She hadn’t spoken to him since that night at the construction site. That night he had let his love for her cloud his reason. That night he hadn’t let her make her own decision and held her back as Dawn made her ultimate sacrifice. Now the only woman he had ever truly loved, hated him more than any of the demons she fought on a nightly basis. And Angel knew she was right.

He watched as she dug her fingernails into Spike’s arm when Giles’ coffin was lowered into the ground. She had clung to the blonde vampire like a lifeline for the past week. Strangely the dark vampire felt no jealousy or animosity, just a sadness that he could no longer comfort her that way.

Angel turned his collar up against the wind and thought that Buffy had stopped turning to him long ago. That it was Spike she asked for advice. That she never seemed to mind when she fought with the blonde vampire, forgetting instantly any bad feelings when they fell back into their friendly banter.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love him. Angel knew without a doubt that Buffy had always loved him, always turned to him for love and support. But with Spike she got closer to her true self. They were so much alike, it was no wonder they had bonded so closely.

The strangers moved away again, leaving six figures at the graveside. Buffy was leaning heavily on Spike now. The blonde vampire’s face was impassive, but Angel could feel the tension, anger and misery radiating from him. Willow looked like she was going to collapse and Tara supported her as they turned to leave, knowing that tomorrow would be even harder for the redhead to endure.

Angel turned to the woman standing next to him. A small black veil covered her face, but Angel knew she was crying behind it. “Jenny?” he asked softly. “Do you want me to take you home?”

Her head jolted up as if realising someone else was near by for the first time. “Oh, yes, thank you Angel.”

She took two steps closer to the edge of the grave and dropped a rose quartz onto the lid of the coffin. “Rest in peace, Rupert,” she whispered. “I’ll always love you.”

****

He never, never, never thought he’d feel this bad at the whelp’s funeral. Hell, the boy hadn’t let a day pass without a deadboy junior crack. It wasn’t until they stopped coming Spike realised how much he had liked it. Well not the jokes, but the childish grousing at one another. He may not have been the sharpest Scooby but whatever he’d said, whatever image he’d given out, Xander had never been afraid. He’d always come through. And though he was hard pressed to admit it, Spike admired that.

The priest was mumbling again. He’d spent three days mumbling and Spike could have told you the words by heart. After three funeral services, he could probably quote a fair bit of the Bible. Dawn’s readings had been about life, youth, beauty and love. Giles’ had been about survival and duty, staying strong in adversity. Xander had wanted miracles, the lame man walking and the young girl who was resurrected. Until he met Buffy he’d never believed any of it. In the end there was little he didn’t believe in.

Spike looked down at Buffy. She was crying again. It seemed as though she’d never stopped crying for weeks. He gripped her hand tighter and she squeezed his in return. He wanted to hold her, the way Tara was holding Willow. Poor Willow. She looked ready to give in. In fact they all looked ready to give in. If any lucky demons attacked now, they’d take down five of the strongest people he’d ever met, himself included, in seconds.

It was over. Three funerals in three days. The horror of the past few weeks would hopefully be laid to rest. It was time for the healing to begin.

Willow and Tara remained at the graveside as the others made their way home. Buffy linked her arm through Spike’s and they walked slowly back towards the Summers’ house.

“Don’t leave me,” Buffy whispered in a little girl voice that made Spike’s undead heart clench, as they reached the front porch. “Stay with me please. I don’t want to be alone.” Spike took the front door key and opened the door, guiding Buffy carefully inside. “Do you want something to drink? There’s blood, or hot chocolate if you’d rather…” Buffy rambled as she stood in the hall seeming unsure of what to do.

“You need to sleep luv,” Spike told her and before she could protest he had lifted her in his arms and carried her upstairs to her bedroom.

“You’ll stay with me?” Buffy asked desperately as he laid her gently down on the bed.

“I’ll be right here, all night,” he assured her. His resolve to be a good friend weakened when she took off the black jacket, jumper and trousers she been wearing and climbed under the covers. She patted the bed next to her and looked up at him, her large expressive eyes drawing him ever closer.

He sat down next to her and she snuggled into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist as he resumed caressing her hair. “Sleep now, baby,” Spike murmured and he bent slowly to kiss her forehead as she relaxed against him in sleep. 

Part Two

“I’ll come and see you every day, I promise,” Willow told her best friend as she leaned against his headstone. Tara was standing further away, allowing the young witch some time to say goodbye to Xander. “You have no idea how much I miss you Xander. I thought you’d be here forever. You promised you’d always be here for me. I need you.”

The redhead began to sob quietly again and Tara had to restrain herself from going to Willow and trying to comfort her. The blonde witch knew the importance of saying goodbye, of crying and allowing those painful feelings to escape.

She shivered and pulled her coat tighter around her. It wasn’t cold, but graveyards always gave her that shivery feeling. She hadn’t spent that much time in them before her arrival in Sunnydale. She wondered if Buffy felt that way or if she felt more at home among the tombs and headstones. She probably wouldn’t now. Not with five of the people she had loved in some way buried here.

Tara watched as Willow stood and she moved up behind her girlfriend to lend her support.

“Goodbye Xander,” Willow whispered as she clutched at Tara’s hand and the two witches moved slowly away.

“You want to go home now sweetie?” Tara asked, concerned that her girlfriend hadn’t been resting properly. Willow shook her head. “No, I want to go and see Cordelia.”

They walked hand in hand through the cemetery to Cordelia’s grave and Willow knelt down in front of her gravestone. She traced the name and inscription before she began.

“Hi Cor… God you’d never believe I would say something like this but… I’ve missed you. Xander missed you. Every day. He was waiting for you to come back. He couldn’t wait to see you when he came home from his summer trip. He probably told you. I hope he’s with you now. I hope you’re both somewhere good, with no demons or monsters. You deserve something good, something happy.

“We buried him today. This afternoon. So many people came. You wouldn’t believe how many people. I think he’d be quite shocked to know how much he was loved. Giles’ funeral was yesterday and Dawn’s was the day before. Are they with you? We all miss them so much… Buffy’s… Well I don’t think she’d have made it this past week without Spike.

“Yeah Spike. Did Xander tell you? He came back a couple of years ago. Some military organisation put a chip in his head and now he can’t hurt humans. I don’t think he’d want to anymore though. Angel straightened him out. He’s been really helpful. And he loves Buffy. No one’s supposed to know but it’s pretty obvious. Except to her I suppose.

“Have I introduced you to Tara? I can’t remember. I’m forgetting a lot these days. I wish I could forget things I really don’t want to remember like Xander not being here…” Willow choked slightly and stopped, motioning behind her for Tara to come closer. “This is Tara. Tara this is Cordelia.”

Tara looked sadly at her lover and then back at the headstone. “It’s nice to meet you Cordelia.”

“Tara is my girlfriend,” Willow continued and the blonde witch settled herself next to the redhead, as Willow continued to talk to her dead friend.

****

Angel sat staring into the fireplace at the mansion. It seemed as though his whole world had turned upside down within a few weeks. Too many people were dead. He didn’t want to think about it, but his mind was unable to resist reliving the final battle with Glory and imagining what he could have done to make things different. To make them better. Dawn’s death was the most painful to deal with. One more death he was responsible for.

He glanced towards the garden and wondered whether anyone would stop him if he decided to go and watch the sunrise on the hill behind the mansion. ‘Probably not,’ he thought to himself. He barely spoke to anyone these days.

Tara had dropped by once last week to check on him, but she had her own grief to deal with, and was worried about leaving Willow alone for too long. She hadn’t stayed very long; none of them really wanted to see him, Angel knew, they didn’t like the constant reminder he presented.

Spike wasn’t even talking to him. After two years rebuilding their relationship into something substantial, Angel had lost his best friend again by failing to protect Dawn. Angel knew Spike would have been devastated if Buffy had died, but he also knew that the blonde vampire would have let the Slayer make her own decision. They had promised to protect Dawn and in the end Angel had failed in the most grievous way. He had deliberately disregarded Buffy’s wishes and now he had to pay the price.

For the first time in four years he was alone, and there was nothing this time that could possibly redeem him.

****

“Dawn!”

Buffy sat up in bed, breathing heavily, her scream forcing her out of her nightmare and waking the blonde vampire next to her. “What is it luv? Buffy are you ok?”

“A nightmare… about Dawn,” Buffy explained and Spike nodded in understanding closing his arms around her and rocking her gently.

“Is she still dead?” Buffy asked sadly, knowing that what had happened in the dream had happened in reality, but hoping beyond hope that Spike would tell her that Dawn was tucked up safe and sound next door.

Spike nodded against her hair and felt Buffy start to cry against his chest. “Shh. Buffy luv… it’s ok. It’ll all be alright.” Spike realised that stupidity of the statement and tightened his arms around her. Buffy shook her head as she started to weep more heavily. “I know,” Spike whispered over and over into her hair and he rubbed her back, closing his eyes to try and block out the view of her despair.

Eventually she stopped crying and pulled away slightly to look at the vampire, still holding her in his arms. “Talk to me,” she murmured and Spike frowned down at her slightly.

“Talk about what?”

“Tell me about you. The real you. Tell me the truth. You lied so badly the last time.”

Spike blinked in shock. He thought he had done such a good job of covering up his past. He had obviously been mistaken.

“Ok,” he said finally. “The real me. Once upon a time, there was a good, kind, honest man named William…”

Part Three

“Angel,” Buffy called out softly as she entered the mansion. “Angel are you here?”

“Buffy,” Angel answered her as he ran quickly down the stairs towards her. “Are you ok? I haven’t seen you, I… How are you?”

“I’m… getting by,” Buffy told him, feeling any other answer would be exaggerating. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you too. We haven’t spoken for a while and I wanted to tell you…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Buffy said, holding her hand up to stop him from continuing. “I know you’re sorry and you didn’t mean for it to happen like that. I know you’re hurting too, and I haven’t let you talk about it with me.”

She walked towards the couch and sat down, staring at the floor as Angel moved to sit beside her. “The problem if though,” she continued when he sat down, “that I can’t trust you anymore.”

Angel couldn’t have felt worse if she had pushed a pointed piece of wood through his heart, even though he had been expecting those very words. He had to ask the obvious question, even though he already knew the answer. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to trust me again?”

Buffy raised her eyes to his and he saw that they were filled with tears. “With my life yes,” she told him honestly, “with anyone else’s… no.”

Angel closed his eyes, wishing there was a way to turn back time and choose a different path, but he knew there wasn’t. “You want me to leave.”

Buffy nodded. “I do love you Angel. But sometimes, love just isn’t enough.”

Angel smiled sadly, “I thought that a couple of days ago. We weren’t meant to be together.”

“No we weren’t,” Buffy agreed.

“Can I keep in touch…? I mean, will you let me know how you are and what you’re doing?”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Buffy told him and he nodded in understanding. “Call me when you get… wherever and we’ll see how it goes,” the Slayer continued, not wanting to cut him from her life completely.

“Thank you.”

Buffy smiled gently at her former love and stood. “I should get back.”

“Yeah,” Angel said, also standing and walking with her to the door. “Thank you for everything Buffy. You’ll never know what it means to me.”

“I think I do Angel,” Buffy said as she leant up to kiss him softly on the cheek. “You’ve done the same for me.”

“Let him love you,” Angel told her finally and Buffy looked confused for a second before her eyes widened with the realisation.

“I will. Goodbye Angel.”

“Goodbye Buffy.”

****

Spike sat on the hill behind the mansion and looked out over the town. He watched house lights flick on and off, watched as cars drove though the streets, making their way home. He had been sitting here for two hours. Since Angel had left.

The last time his surrogate Sire had disappeared from his unlife, Spike had been a different person, but his hurt at being abandoned by someone who had taught him everything Drusilla couldn’t, had cut deep. He had been devastated when he had been reunited with his friend again, only to find he had a soul.

Now however it was easy for him to admit he liked the souled version much better than the evil demon. And Angel had made it easy for him to adjust to his non-violent lifestyle and begin to help the Slayer and her friends.

The only thing Spike regretted was that he had withdrawn himself from his Sire for the past year, ever since he had discovered his love for Buffy. It wasn’t easy to fall in love with your enemy. It was even harder when she was in love with your best friend.

So Spike had kept his distance, trying to fall out of love as quickly as he had seemed to fall into it. But Angel had known. He had known for four years. Longer than Spike himself. And he had never said anything. Never warned Spike away. He was going to miss his Sire he knew. The way he missed Dawn.

Spike squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He didn’t want to think about Dawn. If he thought about her, he’d see her lying there in the rubble and he hated seeing her like that. Dawn wasn’t supposed to be still and lifeless. She was supposed to be running around, full of energy, teasing him about his clothes and hair and taste in music. She was supposed to be alive.

He heard a noise and turned to see Buffy waking slowly towards him. He turned back to his contemplation of the town as the Slayer sat down beside him.

“You know, Cordelia told me once that there wasn’t a whole lot of town here,” Buffy told him as she wrapped her arms around her knees. “But it seems to get bigger every day. Sometimes I worry that someone’s messing with reality and adding new things for some evil scheme.” She frowned slightly. “Sometimes I can be a real geek.”

Spike snorted with laughter. “Well that makes two of us then doesn’t it?”

Buffy smiled. “You miss him.”

“He’s only been gone two hours,” Spike said rolling his eyes at her. “The lingering smell of his hair care products will keep me company for months.”

The Slayer nudged him gently with her arm. “I miss him too.”

With his eyes still on the flickering lights, Spike asked, “Why did you send him away?”

Buffy sighed. “It was too hard. It is too hard, with him here.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Spike murmured. Should he tell her he loved her. Angel had told him too, but what did that mean.

“Spike…” Buffy began carefully, “Did you fall in love with Dru straight away?”

“Well,” Spike said thoughtfully, trying to remember exactly what he had felt. For some reason he didn’t want to say afraid, first. He had been, for a minute when she had first come up to him in that alley. Then of course he had been captivated. To this day Spike didn’t know whether he had actually stayed of his own free will, or been held there in Drusilla’s thrall. He didn’t want to believe it had been the latter.

“I suppose so,” he continued, “She uh, well she seemed to understand me. Looking back I suppose she just saw what she needed and used it against me. I know she loved me in her own way, but…”

“It wasn’t enough,” Buffy completed for him. 

“No,” he agreed with a sad sigh. “It was never enough.”

“When did you fall in love with me?”

The vampire turned his head sharply to look at the Slayer, completely floored by her question. He opened his mouth to refute the statement but stopped. What was the point in denying it anymore? She already knew the truth. He wasn’t going to be messing up anyone’s life if he told her. He didn’t have to hide his feelings to protect anyone now.

“I don’t know luv,” he answered Buffy’s question, tying to think back over his relationship with the blonde Slayer. “By the time I realised I was, I was in the middle of it. Knowing me though, it was probably the first time I saw you. I used to go in for that kind of sentimental crap. Love at first sight was right up poor William’s street.”

“I can’t remember the exact moment either,” Buffy informed him, never meeting his eyes, even though she could feel them boring into her. “I just remember one night at the magic shop, we were researching something about Glory… Giles was cashing up and muttering to himself about shipments or something; Xander was chasing Dawn around the training room and we could hear them laughing and screaming; Angel was out on patrol… and you, me, Willow and Tara were all searching through some dusty old books, looking for God knows what… I looked up and you looked up and our eyes locked for like, a second, and you smiled at me… and I knew.”

“Buffy…”

“There’s been too much loss. Mom, Dawn, Giles, Xander, Cordelia. It started with Cordelia,” Buffy said thoughtfully.

“What did?”

“Everything. The beginning. The end. Now there’s just the four of us and I don’t know if I want to go on saving the world. I really don’t like it much any more.” Buffy sighed and turned to meet his piercing gaze.

“But we’re going to try. The four of us, we’re going to go on. They didn’t die for nothing and we’re going to keep going until this is a good world again.”

Spike cupped her face and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “Yes we will.”

“And we are not going to be miserable. We will remember the good and banish the bad.”

Spike nodded and smiled, in awe of her bravery.

“And you and I are going to be so damn happy together,” Buffy growled fiercely and Spike’s smile widened as he pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his.

Epilogue

“Angel?” Cordelia began, her eyes wide as she looked at her friend for some sort of explanation.

“Enlightenment,” Angel whispered as he stood and began pacing the hall.

“What?” Cordelia asked, still confused. “What’s enlightenment? Wesley?”

“Enlightenment means gaining understanding and a well informed, tolerant rational view of…”

“I know what the word means, dictionary guy,” Cordelia interrupted. “I meant, what’s with all the whispering and pacing? This is a weird supernatural thing by anyone’s standards.”

"If I remember correctly,” Wesley answered, glancing at Angel in the hope of confirmation, “Enlightenment is a revelation of truth. It’s a very rare and important occurrence, not granted to just anyone. And there’s always an important reason for it. If that’s what it was…” Wesley trailed off, thinking for a few moments before he also stood, looking back and forth between Angel and Cordelia.

“Angel, it happened after Cordelia said if you hadn’t lost your soul we’d all be happy.”

“Boy was I ever wrong,” Cordy muttered, moving to stand next to Wesley. “I still don’t get what that means.”

“Cordelia, we just found out what would have happened if Angel hadn’t lost his soul. Things would be no better than they are now. In fact they’d be much worse. If you’d been here Angel, you wouldn’t have been able to save Buffy and more people would have died. You have to stop blaming yourself.”

“Oh I get it,” Cordelia said, nodding thoughtfully. “But uh, I still don’t see why we’re getting it now. And is it just us?”

"No,” Angel answered turning to face them. “My blaming myself was only part of it. The other things are just as important, maybe more important. There’s no way we’re the only one’s this is happening too. We’ll go and see Giles first thing in the morning.”

What If?