Word Count: 497
Warnings: Mild language.
Summary: Angel remembers good times and searches for a solution.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not the characters, not the world, not the relationships. I'm just playing in Joss's sandbox.
Author's Notes: Set sometime during Season 4 of Buffy/Season 1 of Angel. An old drabble I revamped (no pun intended) today. This was written for my fanfic50 claim, #23: past. Also, why don't I have a Buffy/Angel icon?
He never forgets how beautiful she looks when she's asleep, how perfectly at peace she seems. The only time she is really ever at peace. Sometimes, as he is waking up, he hopes against hope that it has all been a twisted nightmare, and he will find her curled against his side, barely a day over seventeen. Everything will work out, because they are together, two crazy kids in love. He will lie there and watch her, her chest rising and falling slightly, steadily, slowly.
Eventually she will wake up to find his dark eyes fixed on her face, and she will remember and smile, perfectly content. She will rest her head against his bare chest, and he will run his fingers through her blonde hair, the closest he can ever come to touching sunshine. Maybe one of them will look at the clock, and see that, really, if she wants to make it to school on time, she should start getting ready. He will start to remind her that she is still in high school, even though right now school is the farthest thing from her mind. But before he can get a word out, she will kiss him into oblivion.
Of course, when he opens his eyes, she is never there. His eyes jump open and he turns to find an empty space at his side. A void. Barren, cold, terrifying. He wonders if she misses him the way he misses her. Can that boy, all brawn and purpose, somehow make her forget her first love, all the pain and the fear and the joy? He's tried so hard to be the strong one, walking away with his heart in pieces, trying to let her live her life.
When he thinks of her, he can't help wishing she will arrive on his doorstep one evening with a sheepish smile and say some corny line on her lips. "I just couldn't live without you," or "Baby, we're meant to be. Whatever the odds. I say we fight them." Then they'll fuck up against the mirror on his bedroom wall, and later they'll make love. And every night, he will watch her sleeping by his side. When she shakes with nightmares and screams in her sleep, he will hold her until she is calm again and everything will be alright.
But sometimes epic love isn't meant to be. That's why Helen of Troy never could save Paris, and Juliet's fake suicide backfired so horribly. That's why some couples are the stuff of legends. For some romances, a happy ending just isn't in the cards. In the end, love isn't the only thing that matters. Sometimes when two lives intersect, all hell breaks loose. Maybe it's fate. Maybe it's how some cruel deity get its kicks. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's everything.
There is no solution. There is no solution. This is what he tells himself over and over again, and it's the only way he can bring himself to move on.