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Title: Maybe

Author: Alexandra Maia

Email: barlexa@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: Nothing mine. I'd love to own the boys, but unfortunately, that's not going to happen. *Sigh*. Don't sue. I just live in denial. I just dream of crossovers.

Distribution: Want. Take. Have. Just tell me where it goes, I'd love to visit your site :)

Pairings: A/S - they're perfect.

Rating: R

Timeline: Beginning of seasons 7 of BtVS and 4 of Angel.

Summary: Angel's POV when Spike shows up at the Hyperion. Post the soul.

Feedback: Off course. Feels like Angel and Spike together :)

Notes: Inspired by All I Want from Sofia.

Dedication: Sofia  I love you darling

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I open the door and you're there. You look at me with those beautiful soulful blue eyes of yours and I don't know what to do. A part of me tells me to close the door, run and hide under my bed because ghosts of the past came to haunt me in the form of you.

You.

My sweetest dream and most painful nightmare. You, the angel I claimed as mine so long ago. Something inside me screams that this is not real and you're not here, I'm just delusional, but then, my heart cries at the look in your eyes. No ghost could look like that.

Hurt. Pain. Ache. Love. Anger. Rage. Care. Fear. Panic. Trust.

You could always feel so many things at the same time, William. And I could always read you. Read your soul, even when you didn't have one.

I'm torn between closing the door and my heart or standing back and inviting you in - inviting you into my home and my heart.

It knows you. It cries for you, for your touch, for your skin close to mine, for the hot sensations you wake in me. And I realise I can't do it. I can't close it.

I could never kill you and I can't close my heart to the feelings in your eyes. I've done it too many times before.

Every time things go wrong I run. Call me weak. Call me a looser. Call me egotistical, selfish, arrogant, but everything is easier when you're the one leaving. When you're the one turning your back on the people you love, because, deep down, you know that you can always come back whenever you want and you'll be welcomed.

But then, you always knew that. I left you. You looked at me, begging me with your silent stare not to go, but still you didn't say a word. Tried not to make things harder for me.

Always caring, always worrying, always loving. That's you.

You were my safe heaven, my most favoured childe, you were my lover, my equal. Strange that the Scourge of Europe would feel for someone so small, so tiny, and so tender as you. I remember how easily you broke, how easily you bled at my hands, how bruised your skin became. How you looked into my eyes and made me shiver. How you clung to me after our wild passions and fell asleep with the softest and happiest look in your face.

But then I left. I couldn't stand the thought of you pushing me away like Darla did. I couldn't stand the thought of you rejecting me. Sending me away because I was no longer one of you. I was ashamed of what I had become. I was afraid. I couldn't be repelled again. Like a plague or disease.

Turning my back was so easy back then. Closing my mind, my heart. Forgetting who I was and what I had done.

Seeing you reminded me of everything. Of the life I had taken. Of the perfect gentleman I had claimed as mine. Of all the chances I robbed you of. Not that you mourned them - no, you loved being the demon you were and I couldn't stand to witness that.

A hundred years later you found me and I could see the hurt in your eyes. And I know it wasn't because I was helping the slayer nor because I had a soul. You were hurt because I had left you. Because I had promised not to, but did it nonetheless.

Then you became cold. You closed your heart just like I had done so many years before. We played the enemies. Strangers. 'I've never seen you before, I don't know you, I hate you, you're a killer, you're a demon, I'm nothing like you, you're everything I am not'. The only ones we didn't manage to fool were ourselves.

But that wasn't the worst. What happened next broke your heart all over again - and mine, when I remembered.

He was back - full of rage and anger, thirsty for revenge and hungry for punishment and pain, determined to make the world, and everyone in it, pay for a century of captivity.

And you, Will, you were the one who suffered more. And I don't mean because of Drusilla, because that was the smallest thing. I mean the things he did to you. You were so happy when you heard he had returned. Sceptical, at first, but soon you forgot all the hurt and pain and revelled in the thought that your sire was back. And what did I do?

(Yes, because you and I both know that we're the same, me and him. And he's still here, isn't he? Yes, the demon still lives inside. He's me and I'm him.)

I stabbed your back, again. Hurt you more than before.

And you should hate me. You shouldn't be here. You should have killed me when you came to LA looking for the Gem of Amara. You had me but still you let me live.

And now you're here. After everything I did, you still run to me when you're  scared and in pain.

I don't know how long it has been since I opened this door. Time never mattered to us. You're still looking at me. Strange that after everything that happened I'm the one you seek when you need help. Strange that after so long you're looking at me like I'm the only one capable of stopping the pain.

Maybe you're lonely too. Maybe you don't have anywhere else to go. No one else to call for help. Maybe you miss me, my heart hopes. Or maybe you want to show me what you have become. Maybe you want to ask me to kill you.

But I could never kill you, William. 'You did worse' you'd probably say, and you'd be right. That was a lesson I taught a long time ago.

'Dying is so easy for them, William. They have to suffer. Suffer till they beg us to kill them. Suffer till they do everything to stop the pain. Suffer till they kill themselves.'

That's what he told you.

And that's what I know best. Hurt. Make people suffer. People that I love. And maybe I'm too selfish but no matter how much you suffer, no matter how much you ask, beg even, I'll never kill you. I can't.

I stand back, opening the door further and invite you in.

No words. You don't need to tell me what I already found in your eyes. And I don't say a word since they'd feel empty, meaningless.

You step inside, all the while glancing at the place I call home and I know you're wondering why a vampire like me would choose to live in a huge hotel like the Hyperion.

Your eyes get lost for a moment and I know that you're thinking about them. About everything you did. We did. And I remember how it felt. How it feels when you have no soul and then suddenly you do. Everything comes at the same time. All the faces. All the murders. All the pain. How much you enjoyed doing it.

And believe me, I know. The first time was hard but nothing can prepare you for the second.

And I pray to God that you won't find out how it is. Because you can't imagine what it feels like to know you're loosing it, to know that you'll kill again, and most likely the ones you love. And then, if you got the 'good fortune' of being cursed again you feel like killing yourself because of the pain.

Remembering what you did to the ones you love. And I welcomed hell because of that. Hell made me bury what I had done in the depths of mind because I had other things to worry about. But then I was back and I remembered it all over again. I remembered Buffy. And I remembered you. My sweet William. And how what I did to you was so much worse than what I did to her.

And I want to tell you how sorry I am, how I dread hurting you, how I want to die before I hurt you again. But I don't. You wouldn't believe it. But I don't blame you. How could I?

You're still lost and I'm dying just from looking at your face. A mask of hatred, pain and sadness. I want to soothe you. To take care of you. Treat your wounds and make sure you're never hurt again. I take you in my arms, hesitantly at first, afraid that you'll send me away, but strongly when you don't pull back.

And that's when you break down. You were always so strong for one so tiny but now you seem not to be able to take it anymore. You bare your deeply wounded soul to me, you cry all your pain and fears. And I'm here to help you out, stroke your back, kiss your forehead, whisper shooting love words into your ear.

And hours have passed since I've embraced you and now, you're finally quiet. Your head rests in my shoulder and it fits there just right. How I want to have you here forever, in my arms, how I want my old William back, how I want you to understand what I did, how I want you to forgive me.

'Everything will be better, Will. Don't worry. It won't be okay, it can never be okay again, but it will bearable. I'm here.' I whisper, more to myself than to you, but you hear it, though.

You look into my eyes, searching for honesty, wondering whether or not to believe me. In the end you do. I try a reassuring smile and your eyes soften. How I love that beautiful blue colour.

You lean closer and I close my eyes, I stop my mind from thinking about what I've waited for so long. About what I used to feel when we were this close.

I'm pulled from my memories back into the present when your mouth finds mine. When our lips meet in a soft kiss. When our tongues are drawn together, deepening the kiss and making us shiver. Because this is everything I used to dream and more. And I know you feel the same.

Our tongues play a duet of their own, our saliva mixing and making our blood boil inside our veins.

And I can't help but notice that this time my mind doesn't remind me about everything I have done. This time, I don't feel like I don't deserve this - even knowing that I don't. This time, I'm melting under your touch. You're the only one capable of making me feel this way. And I have to think about everything I did to you, to stop the perfect happiness from coming. Because I know that you are capable of making me happy. Being with you equals pure bliss.

(I guess I should feel lucky. Perfect happiness is rare but, still, I can recall a few people capable of making me loose my soul. And that's the last thing I want happening right now. I still have to make things up to you for the last time he was around.)

Your hands find the collar of my shirt and when you start opening it your eyes find mine, asking permission. I smile and kiss you, while taking your shirt off. I need to feel your skin, your body against mine. I need to see you naked, and melting under my touch just like I do under yours. I need to see the perfection of your body, to kiss your wounds, the ones made by the same hands soothing you right now.

I need to show you how much I love you, how much you mean to me.

Would you believe it, if I told you, my sweet? Would you believe this same words coming from my mouth?

I really don't think you would. Why would you? Words are taken by the wind. Actions are so much more trustable. And that ends almost any possibility of you believing me.

Our bodies are joined together once again, after so long, so damn long, and I'll be damned if I let you go away. I'll be damned if I loose you one more time. Because I need you just as much as you need me. I need you to forgive me. I need to hear you say you love me. Because I'm so lonely. And I know you are too.

I know that this won't be easy, but what I feel about you makes me believe that one day, maybe, we'll be okay. Maybe you'll forget about what I did to you and stop looking back. Maybe you'll believe me when I say I love you. Maybe you'll believe when I apologise to you and say I'm sorry. Maybe you'll look at me like you used to and smile.

And maybe, just maybe, you'll look into my eyes and tell me you love me back. Tell me that you forgive me. Tell me that you've already forgotten what I did or said.

You're lying still on my bed, in the aftermaths of our love, wrapped around my body, nuzzled in my chest. For me this is heaven. Feeling you close, sliding my hand through your hair, murmuring sweet endearments to make you fall asleep and hearing you purr. And this is heaven for you too.

Maybe.

The End