Daisies and Bruises 

“Be careful of words,
even the miraculous ones.
For the miraculous we do our best,
sometimes they swarm like insects
and leave not a sting but a kiss.
They can be as good as fingers.
They can be as trusty as the rock
you stick your bottom on.
But they can be both daisies and bruises.”
– Anne Sexton, “Words.”

The flowers were yellow – daisies, he recalled. She always loved daisies. He used to bring them to her early in the morning, used to place them by her bedside and leave, just so she would wake up happy.

The sun is down as he walks to her grave. He holds the daisies in his hand, grips them with tight fingers, fingers that used to caress her cheek when she was sad.

He stumbles at her grave – it’s old and crumbled and the dates have long since worn away. Only a name remains: Kathy. Liam’s sister. Angelus’s second victim. Angel places the daisies on her grave.

“Have faith in God, but trust in yourself, brother,” she would say

Daisies & Bruises“Trust in what your heart will tell you.”

“You are wise beyond your years,” Liam would reply. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that little girls shouldn’t say things like that?”

And then he would go out and get roaring drunk and come home the next day to his father’s disapproving stone face and the yelling would happen and it would all happen again the next night.

There was one night in which he tried to follow her advice. He tried to follow his heart. He followed his heart into an alleyway where he died.

And when he woke up, Liam was no more. All that was left was what his now non-beating heart had room for: anger and vengeance and a twisted love for Darla. No room for Kathy; why he snapped her neck and didn’t even bother to try and turn her.

When he listened to Spike talk about how he turned his mum and she tried to shag him (How many times had he told that story? At least a dozen.) he wondered why he never turned Kathy. He was glad for it now, but surely Angelus would have no qualms about it, so why?

And then he realized it. There had been no room for that type of love, only room for bitterness and hatred and the sick love that Darla gave him. He wondered sometimes if the moment of your death contributed to how you turned out as a vampire. Spike was turned after being rejected for his love and he’s spent almost his entire unlife searching for it again and finally finding it in Buffy. He wondered if the bitterness and resentment and anger he was holding within him when he died would stay with him until he became dust.

Angel slowly walked away from his sister’s grave and gazed at the stars above Galway

He had never had a chance to come here before taking over Wolfram and Hart. Planes would protect him from the sun and he was always too busy to take a boat anywhere. Too busy trying to stop the apocalypse or the latest demon or the past come back to haunt him.
And now he had all the time in the world. The others were busy scurrying about Wolfram and Hart, trying to change it from the inside, not realizing that they had been eaten by the whale and they could never dig themselves out.

Angel knew. Cordelia had given him that vision to show him. He would find a way to kill the whale, even if he was still inside it.

He found himself back at Kathy’s grave. She still haunted his dreams sometimes. He knelt down and placed one hand on her tombstone and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

When morning came

Angel was back on his jet heading towards Los Angeles. And the bright sun shone on the yellow daisies resting beneath one worn gravestone.

Artist: Tellu
Album: Suden Aika (Time of the Wolf)
Song: Tuulet (The Winds)

I had the wind to give me comfort
Had the breeze to sooth my sorrow.
Where the wind was, there was comfort
Where the breeze was, there was solace.
The sun, when rising, softly stroked me,
The lady moon would braid my hairplaits.

Trust in what your heart will tell you,
Trust in what your nature answers.
Walk as a wolf in the gloomy woodlands,
As a bear the frightful marshes.
Firmly walk the way you’ve chosen
Without bending when the wind blows.

When you lose the way you’re walking,
When you don’t know how to travel,
Trust the time to give you answer,
Sunlight show your destination
That was once what helped your mother,
And her mother long before that.