Normality
by Melanie

 

 

 

She had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember.

 

She’d always been this tiny, blonde girl who had loved him with everything that she had. He could remember clearly the first time they had kissed. Could remember the way innocence tasted on her lips.

 

He’d been older than her then, he still was now. A senior to her sophomore. Eighteen to her fifteen.

 

Her parents had hated him.

 

When she had gotten sick, when her parents had packed her away in a mental hospital with other patients like herself he had visited her every day. Half the time she had no clue that he was there, the other half she clung to his hand like she was afraid he would vanish.

 

But even when she clung to him, even when she whimpered his name her eyes were still vacant and clouded.

 

He was not totally faithful to her during that time. He could look back on that time and want to bang his head in frustration… but he’d been a teen then and prone to thinking with other parts of his anatomy.

 

Of course that had been what had gotten him banned from seeing her, although he hadn’t known in at the time and he doubted that whatever the parents had been told it hadn’t been that their catatonic daughters boyfriend had strayed.

 

The parents that hated him had faced him as a unified parental unit, telling him in no uncertain terms that he would not be allowed to in to see her and if he did it would be only intermittently.

 

He’d been absolutely livid, not understanding what had caused this abrupt turn around. As much as they may have disliked him they had never questioned his devotion to their daughter.

 

So he’d disobeyed them. The next day he’d gone to see her, gone to see his love in her mental prison and at the first sound of his voice she had attacked him.

 

He hadn’t understood, had been desperately afraid for her but the second he turned his head he saw the bane of his existence.

 

Saw William standing there with a smirk lining his face and he’d understood. William had told her about Dru. Had waltzed into her room and told her that he had strayed.

 

He’d never hated anyone as much as he’d hated William at that time.

 

So he had walked away, never looking back. He’d continued a relationship with Dru just to piss of William. Then had moved onto Kate, Darla, Cordy… he had never lacked for female companionship and if his conquests had seemed empty and meaningless he locked that emotion up.

 

The meaning of his life didn’t want to see him.

 

His visits had become sporadic at best and had stopped altogether by the end of her third year in the institution. In his most self-deprecating times he doubted that she even missed him so locked inside her mind she was.

 

He knew from talking to her old friends that even they had moved on with their lives, most hadn’t even been to visit her since highschool had finished.

 

It was on a rare visit home to LA from where he was working in New York City that he had found out that she’d had a breakthrough. That for almost four and a half months she had been lucid and recovering. The doctors still had no clue what had caused her relapse. Then a few months later she’d had a day… one brief day where she had been flitting back and forth between reality and her mind, finally choosing to stay locked inside the reality of her mind.

 

But none of that told him what had finally prompted the phone call from Joyce.

 

If she’d finally decided that enough was enough and that quite possibly he could perhaps actually help.

 

“Liam?... I know you probably never expected to hear from us…I’d like you to go visit Buffy… you know if you can… if you want to…”

 

It had been on the tip of his tongue to say no. To tell her to deal with her daughter herself… years ago he’d been more than willing to take on the challenge of caring for her. Would have done so until he was dead and buried. But they’d taken the choice away from him. Had told him that he was unwanted, unneeded.

 

Instead he was standing outside his loves door, the girl that he’d never been able to forget clutching a yellow rose in his hand wondering when his nerve had deserted him.

 

It had never before been this hard to actually go see her. He knew part of it was because of what he was afraid he’d find on the other side of the door.

 

Drawing a deep breath he braced himself for whatever awaited him and pushed the door open. Stopping dead in his tracks when he saw her lying on her side in the bed.

 

Someone had cut her hair was the first absurd thought that came to him. The blonde locks that he used to love winding his hands through now fell no longer than her shoulders.

 

Still clutching his rose in his hand he moved to the other side of the bed, setting it on the bedside table he sank into the chair pulled close to it and studied her.

 

She looked as if she was sleeping and not catatonic. She had one fisted hand touching her cheek, knees drawn up to her chest. With a half smile he gave into temptation and reached out a finger to trace the line of her cheek.

 

He couldn’t stay here and watch her like this, once years before he might have been strong enough. But no longer… besides what would he talk about? What would he say to her?

 

Would he tell her about the multitude of females in his life that he didn’t love because they weren’t her? Would he tell her that his life was empty because it didn’t have her in it?

 

No, he decided, he wouldn’t tell her anything. He would just press a kiss to her cheek and once more walk away.

 

“I love you always,” he whispered as his lips touched the silkiness of her cheek.

 

He jumped back startled when a hand reached out to cup his face and he stared down into the open eyes of his love.

 

The one that was smiling softly at him.

 

“Buffy…” he started eyes wide.

 

“Angel…” she breathed as her eyes once more settled close. “I’m glad you’re here.”