Saving Graces

Angel hadn't felt fear like this since. since the night he drank from Buffy, and nearly killed her. His hands clenched on the steering wheel. And once again, his actions or non-actions may have allowed another innocent person to die. 'Nice, Angel, real nice' he thought. 'Say you're out for redemption, want to help people, but you are still the same old selfish bastard that you always were'. He nearly slammed his fist through the windshield. He barely restrained himself. He was already breaking the speed limit and most likely breaking some laws of physics in his hurry to reach her in time. He was ashamed, disgusted, and angry with himself. Not at her. Never at her. Their moments together flashed before him like some old movie. He kept staring blindly ahead, his eyes and his thoughts on one goal and objective- to reach her before it was too late.

When he reached her apartment building, he slammed through the door, nearly smacking another resident in his hurry to get inside. Rushing to her door, he began to yell for her. Screaming her name, begging her to answer him. Every muscle in his body was rigid; fear was a chunk of ice in his spine. Finally, rearing back, he kicked the door so hard it would have broken a normal man's bones. Watching as her apartment came into view, he raced inside. And fell to his knees beside her prone body. Dear God, no! Kate! He whimpered in the back of his throat, fearing he was too late. He swiped his hand underneath her nose, checking to see if she was breathing. Oh Lord, she was pale. Just like him, he thought wildly. Pale- being pale meant death. But breathing meant life. And she was breathing, barely. Grabbing her under the arms, he pulled her to the shower. 'Please, please let this work' he silently begged. He silently damned himself for not getting there faster. Shoving his big body into the shower, he dragged her in after. Holding her, he began to do something he hadn't done in centuries. Angel began to pray. His forehead furrowed as he repeated the words of prayer over and over, hoping that if there was a God up there, he was listening.

After long agonizing moments, Kate began to cough a bit. Then she began to struggle in his arms, her own arms weakly flailing about, trying to get herself loose from his tight embrace. Angel fought down the relief, and concentrated on helping her throw up the rest of the booze and pills that hadn't been metabolized by her system yet. As she finished retching, Angel held her fast to his chest. He couldn't let her go just yet. He felt if he let go of her, he would lose her again. And even if he wanted to let go, he couldn't have. His chest was heaving, though he needed no air. His entire body began to tremble, as his head tried to rationalize all the emotions he was feeling. Once he was sure both he and she could hold themselves up, he turned the water off. Helping her out of the tub, he handed her a towel, trying to control his shaking body. Trying to keep a tenuous grasp on his emotions.

She wouldn't look him in the face. When she found her voice, all she could hoarsely say was "Thanks. Now get out." But Angel understood. She couldn't break down in front of him. She was embarrassed about what she had done, and didn't want to lose control in front of him again. But as much as he understood, he wanted to shake her. He wanted to scream at her, rant, ask why the hell she would do such a stupid thing. Why she'd want to waste such a beautiful life, a beautiful soul. Why she would want to leave this earth, when she still had so much time. Why she would want to leave him. But he knew he was being unfair. And being selfish once again. To give her dignity back, he walked out. He didn't look back, and kept walking steadily until he reached his car. There, he collapsed inside the driver's seat. Looked up at her window. And then, Angel began to sob. The cries became louder, as he couldn't control them. It was as if the floodgates that had been closed for years had been broken through. Blood tears streamed down his face, in relief, in thanks, in gratitude. To the Powers That Be, to God, to whoever was listening, who allowed Kate to live. He thanked them all. For giving them both another chance. Finally getting a hold of himself, he used his shirtsleeve to dry his face. The calm after the storm. He glanced around, hoping no one had seen his outburst. He never let loose like that, never. Looking up again at Kate's window, he began to slowly smile. Kate always brought out something new in him, whether it was anger, spite, hate, sadness, or even…love. Well, maybe there was a possibility of love in the future. He mulled over the thought for a second. He knew he would be back to see her again, whether she wanted it that way, or not. But right now, he had to go somewhere. He had to tend to other wounds, to heal other friends, other relationships. But he'd be back.

As he pealed away, his mind focused on his new task, he didn't look back. If he had, he would have seen a young woman, standing in her window, watching him drive away. She'd been watching him since he'd left, and she'd have sworn she'd seen him crying. Which she must have been mistaken about, because she couldn't picture Angel crying. Then again, he always surprised her. He'd come to her, when she'd least expected it. She began to wonder if miracles did happen. Slowly closing her blinds and moving to her couch, Kate collapsed on it. Pulling a pillow to her chest, she began to think. About her life, it's purpose, meaning, and the role a certain dark-haired vampire continued to play in it. And laughed a bit mockingly, because she didn't understand it all. For a girl who'd always prided herself on controlling her life and knowing where it was headed, she had no clue what to do now. And for some inexplicable reason, that realization made her feel free. And she slowly began to smile, with tears dripping down her face, making wet droplets on the white couch. Yes, she thought, both life and Angel continued to surprise her. But this time, she would be more receptive to their messages. Normally, she'd be angry at her knowledge that Angel would be there for her, even when she didn't want him there. She always liked to be the one who never needed anyone's help, who could take care of herself. But now she was wondering if it was okay to lean on others sometimes. If it would free her from the chains she often felt holding her back, keeping happiness an arm's length away. She slowly laid down on the couch, still hugging the pillow. And waited, in the darkness, for Angel to return.