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The battle was over. Angel could still hear sounds of fighting - screams and explosions and resounding growls - but they were muted and distant; fading into the night even as he listened until all that was left was white noise and a quiet pounding, like a metronome winding down.
He was lying on his back on the ground, the cold asphalt grating against his sore head. The rain had finally stopped, but his clothes were still wet, his back soaking in a puddle of something warm, and when he inhaled (pain exploding in his chest on every breath like a stake through the heart) he could smell the strong coppery scent of human blood. Memories surfaced of Gunn being dragged away by vampires, of all the innocent by-standers crushed by the attacking demon hordes, and Angel shuddered, the scent that used to make him hungry now only making him nauseated.
He felt tired and worn, soul and body, but with great effort he finally managed to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was Spike's face looking down at him, and he wasn't sure whether to be glad or disappointed. But he wasn't surprised. Because of course Spike survived, because Angel was certain that when the world finally did really end, the last creatures alive would be Spike and cockroaches.
"It's gonna be alright," Spike said, pressing his hands to Angel's neck. His fingers were cold as ice and slippery with blood, and Angel tried to push him away, only to find himself unable to move. He tried to tell Spike this, but Spike was talking again, and Angel briefly wondered if this was what hell was like - being forced to listen to Spike for all eternity. Except that even if he strained his ears, Angel couldn't make out what Spike was saying, just a mumbled mwaa-mwaa-mwaa like in the cartoon with the funny dog that Buffy used to like.
Darkness was creeping at the edges of his vision and Angel yearned to give into it, but the sun was rising already, the bright white light creating a halo around Spike's kneeling form. Angel blinked, the blood stinging his eyes, and for a moment he thought he could almost see a shape standing in the light, somehow familiar. White noise roared like Pacific waves, and then Spike was shouting, calling over his shoulder at someone, as the world fell away around Angel.
The light grew brighter, and the last thing Angel saw was a gentle face looking down at him.
"It's gonna be alright," Cordelia said, and for the first time in a very long time, Angel thought that maybe it would be.