Confrontation
Angel had finally managed to convince Max to go back to his apartment with him. Despite what she said about not being able to commit suicide, he was still nervous about leaving her by herself. So he led her back downstairs, where she collapsed on the couch. Perhaps collapse wasn’t the right word. He looked over at her from where he was brewing a pot of coffee for her. She was perched on the back of the sofa, her feet together on the cushion. And he recognized the position for what it was. In that manner, she could run easily. She could move forward, or she could roll off the back of the couch. And her higher perch meant that she could see things better.
Angel didn’t know if she was afraid of him judging her or afraid of his acceptance. Both hurt. But he couldn’t summon the will to judge her. He wasn’t her; he didn’t know the pain she felt inside. He could imagine it. He had plenty of his own and his demon’s experiences to draw on. And he knew that if he did pass judgement on her, she’d use his words to fuel her own pain. But on the other hand, just calmly accepting what she did might seem as if he was negating the pain of it. He needed to find a delicate balance. Some way of telling her that he knew she hurt, that killing a little boy was horrible. But it was necessary, as distasteful as it was. That yes, perhaps Case was in a better place. Maybe even in Heaven with his mother. And that maybe the pain of it would be useful to her in some way. That if she was hurting so badly, to use that guilt…
Angel swore inwardly. He was really a bastard. Almost too late he realized that he was projecting his own life onto Max. What she’d done, was nothing like Angelus, Scourge of Europe. He drew in a deep unneeded breath. It was a very fine line to walk for him. He could use his experience to help her, but not go so far as to try and use her as an extension of his own path to redemption. That was something he had to work out himself. The sudden silence in the room caught his attention. He turned and realized that the coffee had finished brewing, the hiss of the stream of fluid gone now.
He pulled a mug from the cupboard above the coffeepot and filled it slowly with the rich dark liquid. He turned to glance at Max. She was staring straight ahead, not paying any attention to him. "Max?" he called softly. She turned her head to him. "How do you like your coffee?" She stared at him for a moment. Then a tiny, sad smile tugged at her lips.
"I spill my guts about the horrible thing I did and you want to know how I like my coffee?" she drawled. Angel knew she was testing the water, trying to figure out what he was going to do next.
"Yeah," was all he said. She tilted her head to the right, regarding him.
"I like it black."
Buffy hurried down to Angel’s basement apartment, hoping he was there and alone. She knocked quietly on the door, her news too important to wait. The door finally swung open and Angel stared at her pensive face for a moment before letting her in. She moved into the apartment and he shut the door behind her.
"What’s wrong?" he asked, still able to read her moods easily. "Is it Giles?"
"No, he’s fine, I guess," she replied. "I haven’t heard any different since I left his hotel." She paused and rubbed nervous hands over her jean-clad legs, the strange thought occurring again about why Giles didn’t take the room Angel had offered him. She forced her attention back to the subject she’d come down here for. "I just found some stuff out that I thought you should know about right away."
"What kind of stuff?" he asked gently. He knew that Buffy would get to whatever was bothering her in her own time and way.
"Can we sit?" She didn’t notice his glance to the closed bathroom door. But he nodded as she was already taking a seat in his living room.
"So what’s going on?"
"It’s about Max," she said nervously. She knew Angel was friendly with the girl. And the last time she’d spoken out against one of his friends, Faith, he’d struck her. At this point, he looked interested in what she said. So she went ahead. "I had a little visit from our old friend Whistler. He told me a lot of things about her." Angel stiffened immediately upon hearing the demon’s name. His old friend had a way of twisting things around. He didn’t speak and she continued. "He told me about a lot of different people that she killed. He mentioned her brother, her nephew, and her sister she left for dead. Other people that she didn’t protect or killed. I’m sorry Angel, but is she really the type of person that you want in you life?"
When he heard Buffy speak of Max’s nephew, he knew exactly whom she meant. "Don’t Buffy," he warned, his tone low and menacing.
"No Angel," Buffy shook her head. "We need to be reasonable and mature about this. Max just shows up and waltzes into our lives. We need to know who she is and what she’s capable of."
"Into our lives?" Angel exploded. "What our lives? For your information, you would have nothing to do with this if you hadn’t insisted on barging into my life." Buffy was truly shocked by his anger.
"Angel," her voice was anguished, hurt by his reaction. "I thought we were friends."
"No Buffy," he growled. "You wanted to be friends. I wanted to love you the rest of my life and give you everything you deserved. Obviously it didn’t work out that way. When you chose Spike over me, I needed time to accept that. But you wouldn’t give it to me. You kept coming after me. ‘Let’s be friends. Let’s let go of the past. It’ll be okay, one big happy family of friends.’ But you don’t seem to realize that if I can’t have what I wanted, then it’s better for me to be gone from it." He managed to stop himself from screaming, but he knew his words had hurt her. Just as they always did. "Buffy," he sighed, hating himself for causing her pain. "I know you still care about me, even if it’s not the way I wanted. But you need to let go, so I can move on, figure out how to survive without you."
"Fine," she snapped, incredibly hurt. "I get that. But you also need to decide if Max is the right person to move on with." He stared at her, not understanding what she was getting at.
"Look Buffy, Max is just a friend," he shook his head. "She’s Cordelia’s friend. And she needs help. That’s what I’m here for. Whatever Max has done in her life, that’s over now."
"How do you know that?" Buffy demanded. "There was a lot of her life that she just skipped over. None of it of the good." Angel was prevented from responding as the bathroom door opened. Buffy turned to see Max in the doorway, a hurt look upon her face. Buffy’s hand flew to her mouth as she realized the girl had heard everything. She cursed inwardly, finally noticing the half-drunken cup of coffee on the table before her. She’d assumed it was Angel’s. She should have made sure that Angel was alone.
"Max," Angel began, but she shook her head.
"She’s right Angel," Max said simply. "You don’t know me. I don’t know you. There’s no reason to trust me. All the things she told you. They were true. I did kill my brother. I did leave my sister who was dying. I ripped apart a man I didn’t even know because Lydecker gave me the chance. I- there’s a response in me that I try to resist. But it only takes one moment, one trigger to set it off. I have to live with it every day. It’s not fair of me to ask others to try to do that as well." With those words, she moved to pick up her jacket from the kitchen counter. Angel tried to go after her, but Buffy grabbed his arm.
"Buffy, let go!" he yelled at the petite blonde.
"God Angel, how could you think to go after her?" she demanded petulantly. "The woman just admitted to murdering members of her own family. She’s a monster." Her eyes grew large as Angel reacted to her words. His demon emerged, vampire face in full regalia.
"If she’s a monster, then so am I!" Buffy stared after him helplessly as he ran after the other woman and Buffy knew that she had lost.
Angel didn’t bother tracking Max, he knew instinctively where she’d go. He followed her all the way home making sure that nothing happened to her. In her fragile state, he wasn’t sure she’d be focused enough to deal with the things that went bump in the night. But she managed to get home okay. Angel stood in the hallway as he heard Cordy greet her friend. He caught the brunette’s eye and jerked his head lightly to let the woman know that Max was in a bad way. Cordy nodded once to show her understanding and softly shut the door. Angel regarded the solid wood for a few minutes, then with a sigh, pushed way from the wall and headed back home. Back to his solitary life.
Caritas
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