IF YOU'D LISTEN

STORY NOTES: Takes place during the episode TED. These are the missing scenes.

MUSIC: Runaway Train by Soul Asylum, Background by Third Eye Blind and Let the Sun Fall Down by Kim Richey. The title hails from Nero’s Rome.

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to the god known as Joss. No sue-age for I am not a god and merely a poor college kid. Deal with the poorness.

DEDICATION: To Leona. Thanks for the assist.

He was lying on his bed reading when she stepped through the door into his small apartment. Her first thought as her blue eyes settled on his muscular form was that the book he held in his hand looked old. The pages were a dull yellow and looked painfully brittle. How ironic.

He glanced up from his original edition of Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” when he heard the door click shut. He was about to casually toss off a warm greeting to his beautiful girlfriend but stopped cold when he saw the look on her face.

A million things at once. Confusion. Fear. Anger. Sadness. Something was wrong and it showed in the dark shadows surrounding her eyes. Moaning softly, Angel started to sit up, intending to go to her. It still hurt to move but she was worth the pain.

She never gave him the chance. She moved quickly across the room and propelled herself into his arms. Immediately, he wrapped an arm around her and began to lightly stroke her back. He could feel her nuzzling herself against his chest, her delicate arms winding around his waist.

“Buffy, honey..what’s wrong?” Angel asked softly, planting a soft kiss on top of her blonde head. He slipped a hand under her shirt and began to gently knead the tense muscles he felt there.

“Ted,” Buffy Summers muttered, closing her eyes and pressing her face into the meat of his shoulder. Normally she would have laid her head against his chest but even as upset as she quite obviously was, she was still mindful of his recent injuries.

“Ah,” Angel nodded thoughtfully. “Ted. What happened?” He wove the hand that wasn’t beneath her shirt into her blonde hair and started gently playing with it, moving the strands between his fingers. He’d once gotten her to fall asleep in his arms by playing with her hair and while that wasn’t exactly the angle he was aiming for now, any degree of relaxation and calm would be welcome.

“He’s a creep,” Buffy said petulantly, moaning softly as his hand went to work on easing a particularly painful knot of muscle in her upper back. She arched against it, her eyes falling shut.

“Go on,” he urged softly, his voice almost too low to be heard. He pressed his thumb into the muscle and moved it in a slow hard circle, smiling grimly when she cried out again. She was caught in between absolute agony and sheer ecstasy. Moving his digit in closer, he worked on coaxing the knot loose.

“He’s gonna marry my mom,” Buffy said bitterly. “God, Angel..he’s crazed. Like Stepfather crazed.”

Angel lifted an eyebrow,” I don’t follow.”

She waved a hand absently and then moaned again as the knot finally began to loosen under Angel’s constant assault. “It was a movie about a stepfather who was a psychotic serial killer.”

“And you think that’s Ted?” Angel asked her gently, not wanting her to think he was making fun of her.

“Well maybe.” Buffy said, her lower lip protruding. “He’s definitely psycho but mom’s all ‘ooh Ted’. Yuck. It’s not normal.”

“Buffy..”

“No!” Her head shot up from his shoulder and she wrenched away from him, whimpering softly at the pain in her back. Shaking her head, she stared back at him. “You don’t understand. The way my mom acts is like a trained golden retriever.. not like someone in love. It’s suddenly like he owns her.”

“Love makes you do the wacky. You told me that,” Angel reminded her, reaching out to pull her back into his arms.

She shook her head forcefully. “She’s not in love with him. It’s not possible.” She looked up at Angel and saw the soft sympathetic smile he was giving her. Immediately she pushed herself away from him again and began to pace angry circles in front of his bed, looking deeply troubled.

“Buffy, talk to me.” Angel urged, stepping towards her.

“He said he was gonna hit me, Angel. And he meant it. He got all power-pissed because he caught me cheating at mini-golf and he said he was gonna hit me.”

“What?” Angel said sharply, his body tensing. He narrowed his eyes dangerously and made a low growling noise in the back of his throat. She seemed oblivious to his change in demeanor however because she continued her agitated pacing.

“And when I told mom, she didn’t believe me! I mean..how fucked up is that? Let’s see here; big ugly creepy guy or daughter. There’s a fairly tough one there. You know what, I think I’m gonna hafta go with the one that cooks. On second thought mom, great choice..”

Angel reached out and grabbed her arm, spinning her out of her angry stride. “Buffy, calm down and talk to me. Did he hit you? Has he touched you?”

“No, no, no,” Buffy replied, shaking her head. “No, he hasn’t hit me or tried to..yet. But in the meanwhile, I’m the bad child and I can’t talk to my dad because he’s happy that mom’s happy.” She threw up her hands. “God, this sucks.”

He took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to it. Then he pulled her into his arms and settled her head beneath his chin. He winced as her body settled against the healing flesh of his exposed chest. She opened her mouth to protest but was quickly silenced by the softness of his lips pressing against hers. She let out a soft throaty moan and then wrapped herself around him. It was he that finally broke the passionate embrace.

“It’s okay,” he promised. “Your mom is a smart woman. She won’t let anyone get away with hurting you.”

“Ted touches me and I’ll kill him,” Buffy grunted, a half-smile perking her upper lip.

“He touches you, I’ll eat him,” Angel replied, kissing her nose. She giggled but didn’t dissuade him and it wasn’t long before that too became lips on lips in a manner that would have put the Hoover vacuum cleaner to shame.

“Mmm,” Buffy murmured, finally breaking away albeit reluctantly. “I have to get home.” She slipped her hands up against his cool skin and then rested her head against him, allowing him to breathe in the smell of strawberry shampoo. She felt him shiver as she ran her small fingers across the tattoo. For some bizarre reason, it was a major “yes” spot for him.

“Do you have to?” Angel whispered, lowering his head to gently nibble on her ear. Closing his eyes, he took in both the taste of her in his mouth and the feel of her soft hands against his back.
She chuckled lightly before turning around and then standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “Technically I’m grounded.”

His eyes shot open,”Why?”

She shrugged, “I told mom and the Evil Bastard that I’d want to kill myself if they got married.”

“Buffy..”

“I know, I know. But Angel, believe me…this guy is no Mr..Mr. Brady. He’s loco in the cabasa.”

He ran a hand over her cheek. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this.” When his fingers reached her mouth, she kissed the tips.

“It’ll be okay,” Buffy assured him, suddenly unwilling to let him worry about her. He had enough problems to deal with. Especially since he had been kidnapped by Spike and Dru. Sighing, she said softly, “I have to go.”

“I know,” Angel replied sadly, tracing a finger across her jawline. He wished he could pull her back into his arms and just wrap her tightly in his embrace. “But do me a favor, okay?”

She lifted an eyebrow but never hesitated, “Anything.”

“Stop by here in the morning. Just..just so I know you’re okay. And..” he smiled shyly, looking very much like a little boy. “Just so I can go to sleep happy.”

She blushed and then nodded. “I’ll drop by before I go to school. “Reaching up, she pressed her lips to his once again and then deepened the kiss. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to relax into the passionate embrace. So much in fact that she barely felt him walk her over to the bed.

“You’re so tense, Buffy.” He whispered, his hands once again sliding beneath her shirt. He saw her nod her agreement so he smiled. “We’ll fix that and then you can go home, okay?”

She chuckled,”You’re the man with the hands.”

By nine-thirty A.M., he was pacing nervously. Anxious and agitated and needing sleep desperately, he continued to rhythmically clench and unclench his fists. And even as it threatened to shut down, his mind continued to pour over the possibilities.

Perhaps she had merely slept in. He could still clearly recall the dark circles that had been lurking beneath her bright blue eyes when she’d come to see him the previous night. Things hadn’t been easy for the little Slayer as of late. For any of them really but Buffy had the bad habit of taking everything upon herself. Which naturally made her run herself into the ground. So it made some kind of sense that she might hit the snooze button on her alarm and snuggle back into the soft pillows of her bed.

Only Joyce would never let Buffy sleep in on a school morning. He knew for certain because the tiny blonde Slayer was always bitching about it. If Buffy wasn’t in the kitchen by a quarter to eight at the latest, then she would be removed from the bed. Forcibly if need be.

So strike that idea.

Well okay. So maybe she’d taken too long getting ready and Joyce had had to take her to school. Buffy would have protested but her mother was on some new reform kick that involved ensuring that Buffy at least got to school on time. That was a possibility. It had happened before. So why hadn’t she at least called. She always did when she couldn’t make it because of some unforeseen circumstance. So why hadn’t she?

“Maybe she’s hurt,” Angel murmured aloud. His nails dug into the meat of his palm as his pace quickened, tracing the same path that Buffy had frantically worked the night before in her own frustration. He stopped and shook his head. “No.”

She was fine. She had to be. If something had happened to her, he would have known.

In theory.

Reaching across the bed, he grabbed at the cordless that was nestled into the crack where the wall met the mattress. He had put it there the night before so that he wouldn’t have to scurry for the phone should she decide to call him to vent more frustration or even just to talk. He dialed the library quickly and waited impatiently as the phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.

“Hello?” Willow Rosenberg finally answered. She sounded distracted.

“Willow, hi. Where’s Buffy?” Angel blurted out quickly. His fingers tangled in the sheets as he fought to make himself comfortable. It was a losing battle. Finally he stood again and resumed his anxious pacing.

There was a pause and then Willow replied,”Buffy’s…not here.”

“Where is she then? Class?”

“Angel..something’s happened,” Willow said cautiously.

The moment she said the words, he felt his heart crash to his knees and his stomach heaved violently. “Is she alright?” he whispered.

“Physically she’s fine. Emotionally..she’s a wreck.” There was a pause and then she said softly, “Ted is dead.”

“Wha? What happened?” Angel gasped out, slowly catching on.

“The police report as of right now says that he fell down the stairs and broke his neck. And that Buffy is responsible for it. They haven’t charged her with anything..yet. She’s taking it pretty hard though.”

“I imagine,” Angel murmured thoughtfully. “But you’ve seen her this morning, right? You know she’s not hurt, right?”

“Xander and I saw her briefly but then she took off. We haven’t seen or heard from her since. We were kinda hoping that she’d gone to see you.”

“I wish,” Angel replied, sighing deeply. “Alright, maybe she’ll still show up.”

“If she does, call here. We’re all worried. She..she wasn’t herself this morning. I‘ve never seen her this upset and down on herself. And you know how she can get..”

“I do,” Angel agreed, thinking about how stubborn his little blonde girlfriend was. She had a hell of a time asking for help and it tended to get her into trouble that would be almost certainly fatal for the average mortal. Then again, Buffy Summers was anything but average.

“If we hear from her, I’ll call you,” Willow promised. Then she added, “Don’t worry, we’ll get her through this.”

“Thanks, Will.” Angel replied softly. He sighed once more and then removed the phone from his ear and punched the “off” button. Frowning thoughtfully, he crossed over to the closet. He opened it and stared down at the still boxed eighteen inch color Sony. It’d been an impulsive purchase he’d made right after he’d moved into the apartment. And then of course he’d remembered that he had no use for television.

Dragging it out, he tore through the packaging until he got the TV, leaving a chaotic circle of debris around him. He pulled it free of the box and then stared at it thoughtfully. The plugging in part made sense at least. Electricity. Power.

He reached across and pulled the clock free from the wall and quickly plugged in the cord for the TV. After frowning at it for a moment, he finally jabbed at the gray and white button under the screen labeled “power”. The screen flashed brightly and came to life, assaulting his eyes. Involuntarily, he growled.

He’d been with Buffy when she channel-surfed as she called it. What it looked like to him was organized but randomized insanity. Stations flashing by quicker than the human mind could possibly register and causing the viewer to take on a glazed if not slightly euphoric gleam to their eyes. It was nauseating. So the question then became, how did she do it?

The remote. He saw it lying in a plastic bag with an oversized white book and two small batteries. He tore through the plastic and pulled out the remote and the batteries. After a few moments of cautious study, he finally but them into the back of the channel-changer. Then he hit the button with the arrow pointing up.

The channels flew by in a hypnotic show of light and shapes. “Woah,” he murmured as the bright colors assaulted him. And then he stopped.

“…Sunnydale High student is under suspicion but has yet to be charged. At this time, it has not been determined if Ted Buchanon’s death was accidental or intentional. Detective Rick Stein of the Sunnydale Police Department has promised a full investigation and is quick to assure that the truth will be forthcoming.” There was a pause and then the newsman looked dead-on at the camera. “I’m Ken Hill for Channel Seven news.”

Angel slid back against his bed. “Oh God, Buffy.” No wonder she’d left school. The media, everyone was looking at her as if she was a cold-blooded killer. And if he knew Buffy the way he thought he did, she was probably agreeing with them.

He slammed his fist into his palm and growled. “Dammit.” He should have known better than to let her go back to where she was as upset as she’d been. As it were, she’d been hanging on to her temper by the slimmest of all possible threads.

Angel stopped his line of thought abruptly. Buffy wasn’t a killer. A warrior for the good guys but not a murderer. That meant that Ted had done something to her.

He narrowed his dark eyes dangerously. Maybe it was a good thing that Buffy had killed Ted then because if the bastard had still been living after he’d in any way hurt Buffy…

Angel chuckled humorously as he realized that he would have killed the man without a second thought for even touching Buffy.

Only Buffy had gotten there first. And was falling apart because of it.

Closing his eyes tightly, Angel silently begged for his beautiful blonde girlfriend to walk through his door. To step into his apartment and into his waiting arms.

He pushed the doors to the hospital lobby open and rushed in, looking every bit the part of the concerned and anxious boyfriend that he was. Looking around wildly, his eyes finally settled on the three Slayerettes huddled next to the soda machine. Willow was speaking softly, calmly, as if she was explaining something important. His heart aching more than he’d ever thought possible, Angel made his way over to them. “Where is she? Is she alright?”

Willow turned quickly and favored him with a small half-smile. It’d been she that had called him less than twenty minutes earlier from the admissions desk of the Emergency Room. Reaching out, she grabbed his uninjured hand and gave it a squeeze. “She’s fine. A little bruised but fine.”

“Who did this to her?” Angel demanded.

Willow glanced over at Cordelia, “Would you?”

“Ya,” Cordy nodded, stepping a foot closer to Angel. Xander rolled his eyes and then followed after Willow as she made her way over to the admissions desk. “It’s a long story,” the tall cheerleader began as she led him to a row of chairs.

He barely paid any attention to her lengthy explanation that was filled with her snappy commentary. Instead he watched the desk where Willow and Xander were calmly talking to the head nurse. Finally he rose from the chair and crossed over to join them, leaving Cordelia alone and slack-jawed. After a beat, she followed.

“I know I was talking,” Cordelia admonished, slapping him lightly on the forearm. He tossed her a wary if not slightly apologetic half-smile and then turned back to the desk.

“What’s going on? Is there a problem?”

The nurse lifted an eyebrow, “And you are?”

Angel growled low in throat, frustrated by the woman’s question. Didn’t she understand that only Buffy mattered? Luckily, Willow stepped in. “He’s Buffy’s boyfriend. He’s just worried. We all are. You said she’s okay..so why can’t we see and why hasn’t she been released?”

“Well, because she needs an adult to sign her release forms and her mother is still sleeping. We expect her to remain as such until morning.”

“And her father?” Xander queried.

“We haven’t been able to get ahold of him. And the other person Ms. Summers mentioned is also unreachable.”

“Giles?” Willow questioned. The nurse nodded.

“You just need a legal adult to sign the papers, right” Angel asked, tapping his fingers anxiously against the desk. The nurse shot him an irritated glare so he stopped.

“That’s right. You’re over eighteen?” The nurse asked, a hint of amusement in her gray eyes.

“I am,” Angel replied dryly.

“You’re a little old to be dating a sixteen year old girl, aren’t you?” she queried, reaching across the desk for a clipboard with release forms attached to it.

He shot her a wary look and took the board from her. Teeth clenched in frustration, he went to work on filling out the necessary paperwork.

“So we’ll tell her mom that Giles signed her release forms,” Willow instructed the group as they walked down the hospital hallway.

“Which he would have if anyone knew where the hell he was,” Xander commented, pointing dramatically at a door. The group entered slowly, cautiously.

She was sitting by a large white bed that was holding her mothers’ sleeping form. Angel cast a quick cursory glance over the older Summers woman and then nodded slowly. She’d be fine.

“Buffy,” Willow chirped, reaching over to squeeze her best friends’ free left hand. The right one was holding a blue ice pack to her jaw which looked to be several different shades of purple and blue. The swelling had really kicked in. “Are you okay?”

She took away the ice pack and nodded slowly. “I’m fine, Will. We both are, thanks to you guys.” She stepped over to Xander and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for calling the ambulance for my mom. I guess I was a little out of it.”

Xander lifted and eyebrow and then shrugged. “Sure, anything for my Buffster. How are you feeling?”

“Like I hate this place,” Buffy muttered beneath her breath. And then she turned towards the dark shadows that consumed the corners of the rooms. “Would you stop lurking, please?”

“Sorry. Habit,” Angel apologized, stepping forward to take the tiny Slayer into his arms. He kissed her hair and then lifted her hand back to push the icepack against her jaw again.

“God, I’m glad that’s over,” she murmured, relaxing into his hold. And then her eyes flew open and she separated herself from him. “Wait a minute! What the hell are you doing out of bed? You’re hurt..”

He smirked. “So are you. Why don’t you let me take you home so you can get some rest. You look beat.”

“But mom..”

“Will be fine,” Willow soothed. “Go home and sleep.” Her tone was firm.

“But..”

“I’d listen to her when she gets like that,” Cordelia suggested as she gazed at her nails with a frown. “Damn, I chipped one. Gross.”

Sighing deeply, Buffy finally relented. “Fine. Did Giles sign my papers?”

“I did,” Angel said quickly. “So no more questions. You’re going to bed. Now.”

She was practically sleepwalking by the time he led her into her bedroom. Giving her a quick kiss, he urged her towards the bathroom so that she could get ready for bed. While she was gone, he pulled the drapes tightly around the window so that the light wouldn’t be a problem come morning.

She re-entered the bedroom wearing blue and white boxers that looked awfully familiar and an oversized white men’s tee-shirt. He lifted an eyebrow. “Mine?” She just smirked and made her way over to where he was sitting on the bed. Reaching out, she wrapped an arm around him and then placed her head lightly on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean..really okay?”

“I’m fine. A little shaken up maybe but I’m me. Everyone is finally okay. And Ted is gone.” She sombered up a bit as she thought about it. He opened his mouth to question her but was stopped by the feel of her body leaning against his as she tried to embrace sleep.

She gently pushed her balled fist into the meat of his shoulder as if she was trying to make him a more comfortable pillow and then she settled against him. Drowsily she murmured, “G’night Angel.”

He kissed her lightly, “Sleep well.” Weaving a hand into her hair, he pulled her even closer so that he could feel the pressure of her heart beating. He watched thoughtfully as her breathing slowed into a gentle pattern and she finally slipped into the first restful sleep she’d had in days.

Pulling the blanket up and around them, he shifted his body so that he was holding her completely, hands meeting in front of her. He pressed his cheek against hers and then set to watching her sleep.