Healing

A few months after she'd left, the darkness that loomed behind suddenly began to abate. He sensed that she was back, but the phone never rang, the door never opened, and he was left with the same feeling of isolation and grief that hadn't left him since she'd been gone. Searching her out hadn't taken long; though he'd been loathe to come into her private space. Her apartment, her sanctuary- he didn't want to ruin that with his tainted presence as well. But she'd left him with no choice, and he moved through the door, slight surprise startling him when no barrier kept him out.

She was on the couch, in the dark, though his heightened eye sight found her immediately. She didn't turn, and he watched the moonlight glint off her hair for a while. It made her look young, innocent. He brushed the thought away impatiently. Neither of them was pure anymore, and she of all people realized that. Moving towards her, he silently stood behind her, a stalking shadow in the cool LA night.

"Angel," she says quietly, and it's a statement. A statement of longing- for what they could have had. A statement of guilt- for leaving him like she had. Running- that was what she seemed to do best. Yet she always found herself back where she'd started; you'd think she'd have learned by now that problems only force you to come back to acknowledge them. There is no hiding. The wild, untamed urges inside you never let go- they only sleep for a while. It always comes back- full circle.

It angers her slightly that for once in her life she was the one to say goodbye first, the one to leave first, the one who wasn't left behind. Yet all she feels is remorse and rage at herself, for doing that to him. Even after his betrayal, she still found that decent spark in him alive with fire. And though she'd wanted, desperately, to be friends with him, allow him into her life, bring a bit of that wholeness back to her, she couldn't open her heart. So she'd taken off. And now she was back. And she had no idea what to say to him.

Angel clears his throat, pauses for a moment. "Kate, when you left...you didn't leave any information. I was worried," he said hoarsely. She nodded, still not turning around. "It didn't matter where I was," she said, wincing at the note of irritation in her voice. "It did to me," he said sadly, and moved around the couch to sit beside her. She heaved a sigh, laden down with one more guilt. She looked briefly at him, then away. "It shouldn't have mattered," she replied, eyes dead. Angel hissed in a surprised breath, then touched her on the sleeve. "Kate, why would you ever think something like that..." She pulled away, annoyance moving her body off the couch.

"Because I'm nothing, Angel. Nothing. Not even a small speck of something in this life. I used to know what I was doing, where I was going. How I was helping people- but it turns out I couldn't even help myself. Why would I burden anyone with my presence?" she spat out, pacing around. She moved back to the couch, but batted away Angel's concerned hand. "Angel, all I seem to ever do is be able to throw myself pity parties. That's not helpful to anyone," she said resignedly.

Angel shook his head, refusing to listen to the submissive voice. "Kate, you think that you're not allowed to have moments like that? Days like that? You think I don't list all my faults day in, day out, and let them seep into me at times? You think I don't let the cold fill me, dread locking me inside, til I feel the warmth of friendship and trust again- and once in a while leave the memories behind?" Kate shrugged unhappily. "But that's just it. I can't seem to leave them behind," she whispered. Angel placed a palm on her arm. "Then let me help you with it. Please," he said earnestly, pleadingly. "I don't know if I can," she replied, voice broken with shards of pain and regret. His other hand found her hair, smoothed the edge of it down. Wearing down the ice around her heart. Tearing down the barriers, one at a time. "But can you try?" he asked. She hesitated, then felt some tension seep out. "I think so," she whispered, and then relaxed more into his massaging hand.

She sighed wearily, moving her neck around to ease some of the tension. "How do you do that?" she asked. "I haven't been able to relax even slightly for months," she said wonderingly. Angel laughed slightly. "It's one of my charms," he said, and felt her slight smile light up the darkness. "So," he said, removing his hand, hating to bring this up again and ruin the comfortable atmosphere but needing to know. "Are we...friends?" She looked at him, gaze wavering, then steadying. "Yes," she said, head nodding. They both unconsciously let out a breath, then stared straight forward into the darkness. Letting the statement hang in the air, blanketing them with a feeling closer to companionship, closer to healing.