Author's Chapter Notes:
Just to let you know. Because I've been telling everyone today, I'm really not happy. West Ham where robbed of the FA cup today and I'm seriously pissed about it! On a brighter note though Paul Konchesky is really hot! Not quite Spike, but very close!
Angel woke late, his head was pounding and his mouth felt as if something had crawled in there and died, he sat up slowly, trying to focus his bleary eyes on the clock on the bedside cabinet. His mind was foggy as it always was when he was hung over and the memories took their time to come back to him. Suddenly he rolled out of bed and lurched towards the bathroom, only just making it before throwing up violently into the toilet. Once the retches had settled, he knelt resting his dark head on the cool surface of the bath, his heart breaking in his chest.

Buffy had left him; it hurt so much that he could hardly take a breath. Not that he blamed her really; he just didn’t know how he could have fucked up so badly. He had hit her, hit the woman he loved more than anyone, ever. She was his everything and the evil inside of him had pushed her away, he was evil, of that he was sure, how else could he have...

He began to cry, deep racking sobs that seemed to come from his very soul, he had lost her, he wasn’t worthy of having someone so special in his life, especially after watching the children… Oh God, the children. He closed his eyes against their faces, but the images became clearer, the little blonde twins, looking up at him so trustingly. But he had betrayed that trust and he had watched as the trust turned first to fear and then to horror and then finally wide and unseeing. Dead.

Every time he had looked at his little Katie, a beautiful blonde little baby, all he could see where those dead eyes, he knew that he had neglected his daughter, but the pictures that haunted him made it so that it was torture to even look at her.

He was throwing his life away, he could see that, but he needed to atone for what he had done, needed to be punished. Needed to suffer.

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He must have fallen asleep on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom, he woke stiff and cold, but at least the men with their pickaxes had stopped chipping away at his skull. The sat up slowly, loath to start them off again, when the ringing of the phone jolted him upright. His only thought was that it might be Buffy, his sweet Buffy, and he rushed to answer the phone ignoring the aches and pains that slowed his movements.

“Buffy, sweetheart…”

“It’s not Buffy” Angel recognised his father’s voice, “She’s here, but she’s not ready to speak to you yet. To be honest neither am I, but I thought I’d let you know that she’s here” Giles voice was tightly controlled, but he couldn’t help the anger that leaked out in his words.

“Dad. Thank God! Is she alright?” Angel was relieved to know where his wife and child where.

“After you used her as a punching bag? What do you think?” Giles’s words where like a punch to his stomach. “Angel, I raised you better than that! What the hell has gotten into you?”

“I fucked up dad; I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I didn’t want to… I …” Angel’s voice trailed off, really there was nothing he could say, no way for him to verbalise that which he didn’t understand in his own mind.

“I know what happened, Angel, Buffy told me” Giles spoke softly, “and I think you need to get some help. But for now, I don’t think it’s a good idea for Buffy and Katie to go back, so we’ll need to see about getting some of their stuff sent here”.

Angel felt a stab through his heart at that, but agreed with his father, he wouldn’t put Buffy or his daughter in a position where he could hurt them. Not again.

He agreed to box up the necessary items and send them to Sunnydale that day. He did need help he knew it, now the only way for him to get his wife back was to sort his head out. Become worthy again somehow.

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Boxing up Buffy’s things was a massive ordeal for Angel, everything he picked up brought a flood of memories, happy memories, back when he was normal and Buffy was at his side. When they where a family and their only arguments where over who had the remote control and who’s turn it was to wash up after dinner.

He took solace however in the fact that her favourite wedding picture was missing, he was sure she had taken it and it gave him some hope that she wasn’t leaving him forever. If she had taken that picture then she wanted to remember when they had been happy and he desperately wanted to give that to her again.

He remembered how beautiful she looked in the simple white dress she wore for the ceremony, how her eyes glowed and her face was framed by blonde ringlets. He remembered feeling as if he where the luckiest man in the world and she looked at him as if there was nobody else on Earth as important to her as he was. Angel sighed and returned to packing the boxes.

Sometime during the seemingly endless and painful task, Angel makes some firm decisions and once the boxes are on their way to Sunnydale, he picks up the phone and dials a well memorised number.

“Gunn, hi, it’s Angel. Yeah, umm… Do you still have the number of that therapist you saw a few years back?” He crossed his fingers waiting for the response. “You do? Yeah, I’ve got something to write on” he grabbed a pen and jotted the number down as it was recited to him.

“It’s time Gunn. I’ve got to work through this shit and you said she was good”

“Well” Gunn replies, “She sorted me out and if you remember, I was a mess. As long as you’re ready for this, give her a call”

“I have to be ready. I can’t do this by myself. I want Buffy back”

“Good luck man” Angel puts down the phone, thinking that he’s going to need all the luck he can get. Sadly, it’s been in short supply recently.

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He knows that this is not going to be a short journey and at this stage he’s not even sure if it’s going to be worth it, but he’s willing to take the first step, willing to do anything for his Buffy and that thought gives him the strength to make the call and his first appointment.

Having made the appointment, Angel feels as if a weight has been lifted, as if maybe life can be okay again, can be right. For the first time since the incident, Angel falls asleep without needing to be drunk, visions of a beautiful fiery blonde dancing in his head.





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