Part V

Angel didn't bother wiping down his axe, or even undressing beyond his coat and boots when he got in, near dawn.

He'd cut a bloody path through the demon underworld, but he still hadn't found out anything helpful regarding Darla.

Worse, all the fighting didn't do a thing to relieve his tension. He was exhausted. Completely wiped out. But still so wound up, he knew that if he did manage to sleep, he'd be having the nightmares again.

He understood the symbolism all too well--the lake of blood was his creation--the blood of the thousands of victims he and Darla had butchered. He was drowning in the guilt, the unbearable pain, as he had been for a century. But where he could usually swim, there she was, straight from the bowels of Hell, pulling him back down into it. Back into that warm, soothing darkness, where there was no pain at all. Only hunger, and the easy fulfillment of it.

He fought her--fighting was the only thing left that kept him sane, these days. But every night, he felt himself growing weaker. He was so tired. So weary of fighting this losing battle...

The only thing that didn't make sense was Buffy's appearance. Always there, fighting to save him, giving him comfort... His life's only light.

But she shouldn't be there. She shouldn't be putting herself at risk for him when she had so many heavy burdens of her own. She shouldn't be wasting energy on him that could be directed toward the happy life that he'd left her to have.

When he woke from the nightmares, the urge to call her, just hear her voice, was overwhelming. But whatever the dreams might be telling him, he couldn't... wouldn't drag her into this. Darla was his problem. It was his responsibility to figure all of this out--alone.

Understanding his relationship to his Sire, the core of his demonic nature, was part of his path, that much he knew. Turning to Buffy would be a dangerous shortcut.

For both of them.

He opened his eyes, and found that he was no longer in his comfortable bed. In fact, he was chained to a wall in some cavern he didn't recognize. A warm fire blazed in a massive hearth on one side, and two figures bent over it, whispering intimately, shuffling hot pokers around in the flames.

The male of the pair slowly turned to look at Angel. When he saw the frigid smile that crawled across his captor's face, he shuddered.

"Well, well. Come look, my dove. It would appear my intrepid housemate is awake once more," Angelus crowed.

Angel shook despite his best efforts not to. He was too tired to put on any show that might hide his terror.

Darla turned from the fire and walked over to join the demon, tucking her arm around Angelus' waist with a sweet smile.

"So he is," she purred, "Are you ready for us, Dear Boy?" She pulled one of the pokers from where she concealed it behind her back, and put it to his bared abdomen.

Angel screamed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where are we going? Why are you driving so fast? How come Riley didn't come? Are we going to see Dad? Are we there yet?"

Buffy tried her damnedest to ignore Dawn's incessant babbling, and concentrated on weaving Giles' Beemer through the freeway traffic. Time was running out. Buffy could feel Angel growing weaker by the moment.

"Hang on, Angel..." she muttered to herself.

"Ooh! Are we going to see Angel? Did you and Riley have a fight? How come you brought that sword? Are we going Slaying? Are we almost there? I have to go to the bathroom

Buffy scowled. "We're almost there. I told you to go before we left. And shut up or I'm locking you in the trunk!"

Dawn pouted. Why had she thought it was a good idea to take her sister with her? If she kept running her mouth--Key or no--Buffy was just going to dump her out the passenger's side door. Without slowing down.

"Is that the ring Angel gave you? Why was Xander so mad? I thought you hated Cordelia?"

Buffy struggled to shut her out, and concentrated on sending Angel as much of her energy and will as she could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the Dreaming, Angel couldn't move. His evil half and his Sire tortured him mercilessly for hours, until he was nothing but a pile of bruises, burns, blood and agony.

Darla slunk up to where he hung prone, and licked the blood from his chest. "You still taste so good, baby. I can't wait to have you again."

Angelus just kicked back and watched with a smug smile on his face. "You know, love, I don't think the physical torture is doing much for us. He's such a noble bastard--he's not going to set me free just because we beat him a bit."

Darla frowned, looking deeply into Angel's badly bruised and swollen face. "You know, my beast, I think you may be right. But what else can we do?"

Angel could no longer see through his swollen eyes. No longer hold his head up. Knowing they wouldn't kill him did little to make him feel better.

'Angel, hang on... I'm coming.'

Buffy.

"No. Buffy, stay away," he groaned.

Angelus' cruel smile grew. "Well, ask for an answer and the answer will come, no?"

Darla's blue eyes twinkled wickedly. "Indeed. Thank you, Angel. Now that we know the Slayer is coming to join us... I have a proposal. What say you give up that silly soul, and we let your little wanton live to see another sunrise?"

Angel summoned what little strength he could. "Never."

Darla laughed. "Not even to save your cheerleader?"

"You know as well as I do, if I surrender," Angel nodded weakly toward his alter ego, "You'll kill her anyway."

Angelus shrugged, inspecting his nails. "True."

Darla shot him a look. "Hush. You're not helping."

"Look at him, Darla. He's about done for anyhow. Why don't we just wait for her to come, kill her, and see if that helps some."

"Or..." Darla mused aloud, tapping her chin with a bloody forefinger, "We could clean him up and let nature..." She chuckled, "Or rather, the Curse, take its course."

Angelus chuckled, clapping. "Splendid!" he rose and came behind her, wrapping his arms about her waist and pulling her roughly against him. "You are a genius, darling. But while we wait, why don't we do a little 'Parade of Victims' reenactment?" He grinned up at Angel, "Starting with young Cathy."

Angel moaned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy had been in LA a million times in her life, but she'd never had to drive its labyrinthine streets in the middle of the night before. She had the address of the hotel where Angel was living, but no idea how to actually locate it in space. They'd been driving in circles for an hour.

Thank God at least Dawn had fallen asleep.

She took the only turn on this block she hadn't yet tried, and almost collapsed with relief to see the huge, old building before her.

Buffy roughly shook her sister awake, and dragged her bodily through the front door, where she found Wesley, Cordy, and some bald guy she didn't recognize pacing nervously.

"BUFFY!" Cordelia nearly screamed, and ran to her, crushing her in a hug, "Oh my GOD! THANK THE PTB'S YOU'RE HERE!"

"Can I use your bathroom?" Dawn squeaked groggily.

Cordelia barely looked at her. "Sure. Go past Wesley. Second door on the left." Dawn skittered off, and Cordy suddenly turned to watch her go. "Wait, who's that?"

Buffy looked at her. "My sister."

Wesley approached. "Buffy, you don't have a sister."

"Long story. How is he?"

Before anyone could reply, Angel's screaming cut the air around them. His friends gave her identical looks that said, "That's how he is."

"Don't let Dawn out of your sight," she ordered, and bolted up the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Stop. Please," Angel cried.

"But we've barely even begun, my sweet," Darla admonished, looking up from the boy she'd just finished devouring. Angelus was poking at the body of the victim's twin with a hot poker, making designs with the burns in his chest. "We still have Bangkok to cover. Remember that orphanage?" She flashed an adoring smile at Angelus, who returned a bloody grin.

"Aye. What a night that was. All that raping and pillaging. Was it Pirates we were playing then, my love?"

Angel screamed again.

"Ooh. Wait!" Darla rose from the floor, the bodies and their gore vanishing. She turned to Angelus with a fairybell laugh. "Do you smell it? Oh, do it, Angelus. Say it, please!"

Angelus stood, hooking his thumbs in the lapels of his coat. He cleared his throat dramatically, and bellowed, "FE FI FO FUM! I SMELL THE BLOOD OF A TASTY SLAYER SNACK!"

The two vampires fell all over themselves with laughter. Angel couldn't move enough to even warn her away. He could feel Buffy's approach, as well.

"Buffy..." he whispered.

Darla and her playmate both moved toward him. She leaned up until she was between her lover's faces. "You've tasted her. Is she sweet? Is Slayer blood as delicious as everyone says?"

Angelus looked squarely into his alter ego's eyes. "Oh, yes. There's none sweeter, my dove. And her body... tight as a drum, eh, Angel? I do so look forward to having her again. In every... possible... way."

"No," Angel groaned, and for the first time in hours, found the strength to struggle against his bounds. "BUFFY, STAY AWAY!!!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She followed the echoes of his screams through the hallway to his room, finding the door before her locked. She pulled back and kicked it in.

Angel thrashed in his bed, his body covered with sweat, and what she could swear looked like blood.

"ANGEL!" She dove for the bed, sitting finally at the edge, taking his hand. "Angel, wake up. Love, you have to wake up!" She began shaking him frantically.

"Buffy, stay away. RUN!" he screamed, but never opened his eyes.

So they were his dreams. And she needed to get back into them, NOW. But how? She sure as Hell wasn't tired, and she knew full well that Angel wouldn't have any spare tranquilizers lying around. She needed to be lucid for this anyway.

His screaming tore into her heart, and she found it increasingly hard to think straight.

'Have to think. Have to calm down...'

That was it. Duh! With her new improved Slayer powers, she could put herself in a trance in seconds flat!

Buffy lay down beside him and closed her eyes, deepening her breathing and visualizing herself as a tree. She plunged her roots deep into the earth, and reached her branches to the sky. She pictured warm light from below washing through her, carrying her tension up and away, into the breeze.

In a moment, she was fast asleep.

When she opened her astral eyes, she found herself deep in an unfamiliar labyrinth of dark caves. For a second, she was confused. How would she ever find him in this?

"Bufffyyyy..." came a woman's singsong to the north.

Darla. Buffy ran toward the sound.

"You can't reach him, you know. He belongs to me." The voice came now from behind her.

Buffy spun. "NO!" she shouted, and ran back.

When it came again, it echoed from behind her once more. "You're too late. You can't help him, now. He doesn't want you anymore anyway. I am his true mate. Your paltry moment in time means nothing in the face of a century and a half of devotion. Go home to your boy."

"ANGEL, WHERE ARE YOU?" Buffy called out. She was not going to let Darla distract her.

"BUFFY, RUN!" Angel's scream reverberated off the damp walls of the cavern. "DON'T COME ANY CLOSER! LET ME GO!"

She focused on the sound. "Never," she muttered to herself, and plunged on into the dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gunn looked up from sharpening his axe to find Buffy's kid sister staring at him.

"What?"

"Nice axe," the girl observed.

"Thanks."

He returned to his task, but when he looked up again, she was still looking at him with those creepy eyes that seemed to look right through him.

"What?"

"How come Buffy never talks about Angel anymore?"

The little sister-liness of her question tugged at his heart. When she looked at him like that, waiting for answers that she thought only he could give, she reminded him of Elana.

He shrugged. "Dunno. Too painful, I guess."

"Why? Because they can't be together?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

He sighed and tried not to be exasperated. She was just a little kid, after all. But he wished she would go ask Cordy -- she knew a lot more about their whole star-crossed lovers' saga than he did.

"The Curse," he replied.

Dawn's little face bunched up in confusion. "What curse?"

Uh oh. Gunn realized with a start that someone Dawn's age probably wouldn't have been told about the Curse. How was he going to explain without having to tell her about the S-E-X part of the Perfect Happiness Principal?

"Gypsy curse. He's not allowed to be happy, and Buffy made him really happy." There. It was the truth, technically, just a simplified kiddie version.

"He broke up with her because she made him too happy? That's stupid." The young girl picked up one of his smaller knives and played with it for a moment before he snatched it away. "Why don't they just find a spell to break the curse or something?"

Gunn shot her a look. "Breaking it turns him evil."

"Oh. Right," she replied, and was quiet for a moment. "Then how come they don't find a spell to make the curse unbreakable even if she does make him happy?"

"Look, kid. It's complicated, okay? Just drop it."

Dawn frowned. "If they love each other so much, they'd find a way to be together. I mean, Riley's nice and everything, if you like really boring guys, but I don't think Buffy does. Why does she bother?"

Gunn breathed a heavy sigh of relief when Cordelia chose that moment to join them.

"Because he's Rebound Guy," she replied, taking yet another knife from Dawn's hands. "When you're older and some guy smashes your heart into tapioca, you'll understand."

Dawn glanced up at the ceiling, from where she could still hear Angel yelling.

"Man, I hope not," she declared wistfully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part VI

Buffy followed the sound of his voice through the cavern, reaching out with her innermost senses until she could feel him as acutely as though he was walking beside her, holding her hand.

The idea brought tears to her eyes. What she wouldn't give to hold his hand just once more. His life force, such as it was, still pulsed between them, and as long as that was true, there was hope.

There was always hope.

A light up ahead pressed a relieved sigh from her lungs. It came from an opening there that didn't look like it belonged to the rest of the scene at all. But she knew that's where Angel's screaming was originating from, and so she pressed toward it. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself, and stepped through the arch.

The light blinded her for a moment, but when her vision cleared, she was shocked. There was no longer any cavern, but a finely furnished apartment, all in teakwood and highly polished antique furniture, with soft classical music playing in the background. Buffy whipped her head around, taking in the darkest shadows of her surroundings in a split second. She could still feel Angel perfectly, somewhere nearby, but there was no one else in the room.

"Buffy. I'm so glad you could come."

The Slayer spun, and found herself face to face with Angel's supposedly deceased Sire, costumed in fine Victorian garb, her long blond hair piled in neat curls on top of her head.

Darla smiled at her gaping, and gestured over the long muslin gown, "Our happiest times together. My favorite nights. Please, have a seat. I've made tea."

An elaborate silver tea set appeared on the table before them, the platter lined with dainty cakes.

"No thanks. I ate," Buffy said. "Where's Angel?"

Darla fluttered her eyelashes innocently and eased into one of the high-backed chairs. "Whatever do you mean?"

The sweet tone of the vampire's voice made Buffy want to vomit. The fact that she could feel Angel, but no longer hear him, made her want to rip the bitch's head off.

"Don't give me that. This is his dream."

The elder woman smiled sweetly. "So it is. Don't worry. He'll join us soon. Why don't we... talk a little, first?"

A force Buffy couldn't see pushed her into the chair beside Darla, holding her still, and slapped a cup of tea before her. She watched in shock as just the right amount of sugar poured itself into the steaming liquid.

"Angelus likes a woman with a sweet tooth," Darla offered in explanation.

Buffy frowned at the fine china cup, but refused to touch it. "Where. Is. Angel," she repeated.

"Nearby. So tell me, what brings you from your beautiful new life to the dark streets of Los Angeles?"

"You know exactly why I'm here. I want you to leave him alone. Stop whatever you're doing to him. Now."

Darla calmly stared at her nemesis, and sipped her tea. "Now, why would I do that? I'm simply reclaiming my mate, as is my right. I made him. He belongs to me. That's the law."

Buffy couldn't bite back her vicious scowl. If she could have moved, she would have creamed the arrogant bitch to a bloody pulp. Or turned her to dust. Either would have been just as satisfying. "I'm not a vampire. Your law means squat to me. Or Angel either. He has a soul."

The elder blonde didn't waiver, but met Buffy's hateful gaze, leaning toward her as if she were about to share a juicy piece of gossip. "Between you and me, little Slayer? Souls really have little to do with the matter. Nothing more than an obstacle. One I fully intend to dispose of," she leaned back and made a face as though she had smelled something bad, and covered her mouth with a lace-edged handkerchief. "As soon as possible."

Buffy jumped from her seat, but was immediately pushed back into it again. "LEAVE HIM ALONE, DAMN YOU!"

Darla laughed. "Why should you care? You can't have him. Your beloved Powers That Be have forbidden him from you!"

Her words hit Buffy like a blow straight to her heart, and she flinched. Then, she steeled herself once more against the growing urge to cry.

"It doesn't matter. He has a purpose. The world needs him. It's my job to make sure he's safe."

Darla's smile grew, but her voice was venomous. "How nice. But have you ever stopped to think that perhaps his true purpose is to be the demon you so despise? Maybe by joining your little crusade, he has strayed from the path he was really meant to follow. Think of all his pain, Buffy. Doesn't it crush you to see him hurt the way he does? Wouldn't you like to see him released from it?"

The tears Buffy had been fighting brimmed, blurring her vision. "Of course I don't want to see him hurt. But the way for him to be free isn't to be a murdering fiend. He wants to earn his redemption. And he deserves that chance!"

"PAH!" Darla spat, rising from her seat, "You've read too many gothic romance novels, you little fool! Angelus is a demon, pure and simple. A hunter. A killer. And one of the finest in history, at that! The soul is a disease that only blights his power, and keeps him from his true destiny!"

"Which would be what, exactly?" Buffy hissed back at her.

"Why, to kill you, of course," came Angel's voice from behind them.

Buffy froze at the sound. Darla's smile swiftly returned as she flew into her lover's arms. Buffy forced her eyes to follow.

He wore a smart black suit and wine-colored cravat in a style that made him the perfect accessory to Darla's outfit. He smiled at the Slayer, but she saw no light in his dark eyes.

Not Angel. Angelus.

He pouted at his sire. "Have you started without me, then?"

She smiled indulgently at him. "Of course not, darling. I was simply taking a few moments to school our friend in your true nature."

Buffy shivered as the familiar, yet utterly foreign, chocolate brown eyes locked on her.

"Oh, she knows," he said, his smile returning. "She knows far too well. Or..." He dislodged Darla, and moved toward the table, where he dropped into a crouch beside Buffy's chair. She struggled to move away, but was still bound in place. She fought the urge to gag as his frigid hand reached up to tenderly brush her cheek, "Perhaps not well enough."

Buffy was locked by his gaze, mesmerized much the way she had been by Dracula. But she remembered how to break that thrall. She reached deep into herself, finding the dark wellspring of power that belonged to the Spirit of the Slayer.

It worked. The invisible pressure released, and Buffy pulled her leg up, kicking Angelus across the room and into Darla. As they both crashed to the floor, she leapt from her seat.

"Your little game is boring," she spat, and jumped over them, following the line of Angel's energy to the doorway.

When she smashed through it, she found herself in the nightmare Sunny Rest once more, on the shore of the blood lake.

Now she could hear Angel screaming. But she also hear Darla's laughter echoing behind her. She ignored it as she dove into the bloody sludge.

Swimming was still next to impossible, the gore was so thick. But Angel's pain drove her on, and now that she knew it was a dream, she took as much control as she could, and willed herself forward.

As she pumped her arms and legs with all her might, millions of moments that she and Angel shared pushed down on her -- the agonizing and the ecstatic. Every touch, every tear, every dream and loving word... all the promises they made, from the moment she knocked him flat in the alley behind the Bronze, to that last look, when he smiled and said he didn't like Riley before he turned and walked away. She saw visions of things that had never happened -- the two of them, walking in sunlight, eating ice cream in bed. She heard other voices whispering... of things that had yet to be.

Buffy sobbed as she swam, mourning all that they had lost along the way, but weeping too with joy at all they had gained. The certainty she had felt the last time they were here together washed through her once more, and she knew that who he was and what he had been in her life was so central to her very being, that all the time, distance, anger, and stupid curses could never really take him from her.

She was his, and he hers, forever. Their souls were one. And when their duties were finally finished, they would be together in truth. She knew it in that moment like she'd never known anything before.

Her vision cleared, and she reached down into the blood. Her hand wrapped around the soggy hem of Angel's coat, and she pulled with all her remaining strength, until his head resurfaced, and he began to sputter and cough.

Their eyes met.

"What are you DOING HERE?" he choked, pushing her off.

Buffy held on. "I'm here to help you. Don't fight me, damn it!"

"This isn't your problem, Buffy! GO HOME!" He dislodged her hand, and his head once again slipped below the surface.

"Oh no you don't!" she growled, and dove in after him. He was sinking fast, his pain and confusion weighing him like an anchor. She fought the searing waves of it left in his wake as he plummeted, and swam on. All the power of the love she felt for him was like a motor pushing her forward through the murk. The depths of darkness were endless, and Darla's laughter made a haunting echo beneath the waves.

"He belongs to me..." she whispered.

'No. He belongs to himself. To the world. To his friends... To me.'

With that thought, she finally reached him, and once again grabbed his coat, pulling fiercely until they were eye to eye, and like she'd learned in First Aid, wrapped her arm tightly around his shoulders. He was limp now, no longer struggling, 225 pounds of dead weight in her grasp as she struggled toward the surface. But she held on, drawing from the growing well of knowledge and memory that she had finally allowed to open deep inside her, until she was able to drag them both bursting through the surface.

There was no danger of him drowning, of course. But that wasn't what made her frantic as she towed his body ashore. What scared her more than anything had ever scared her in her life was that he'd given up.

Buffy wiped the blood from his face, stroking his sticky hair, rubbing his frozen hands, and wished desperately that he had simply drowned so she could give him CPR... something. Anything.

Then she realized the one chance that she might have to save him.

"Angel... Angel, I know you can hear me. Please. Please don't give up. There's so much that you still have to do. So many people who need you!" Her voice broke, the sobs choking her, "I need you, Angel. Please! I love you!"

She collapsed on top of his still chest, unable to speak anymore. How would she survive now, if he wasn't in the world? How would she find the strength to go on alone? Truly alone?

When her panic and sorrow seemed to have reached its deepest, and the last ray of hope was sliding away, she felt his arms go around her, pulling her close. Buffy clutched at him, sobbing now with joy into his chest as he kissed the top of her head and murmured that he loved her too, and everything would be fine.

"How touching," Darla mocked.

Buffy jerked upright, and Angel struggled to do the same. They stared at her. Buffy could feel Angel shaking, and her fury swiftly returned.

"Take a hike, Grandma. You're not wanted here," she barked.

Darla smiled. "You don't really think it's that simple, do you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part VII

Cordelia looked worriedly up the stairs. "Well, at least it's quiet."

Gunn shot her a look. "And you think that's a good thing?"

Wesley left his seat beside a sleeping Dawn, and approached the landing. "Perhaps we should..."

"Go up and see if Angel's really lost it and butchered her horribly? Or if Buffy just didn't want to bother, and staked him?" Cordy snapped.

Wesley lay a glare on her. "I was going to suggest that we check on them."

"No way!" She held up her hands. "I love Angel, but I have a standing policy never to step into the middle of a Buffy-Angel Deathmatch. People lose limbs that way!"

"What's happening?" Dawn piped in, glancing groggily over the back of the couch.

"NOTHING!" All three adults barked.

"Okay. Jeeze," she whined, and lay back down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a flash, Sunny Rest was gone, and Buffy found herself chained to the wall of a cave, which, strangely enough, was cozy, thanks to an enormous fire blazing in a hearth against the opposite side. Darla paced back and forth before them, her brow drawn in concentration, her hands clasped behind her back. Angelus reclined in a chair, sipping from a goblet of some liquid Buffy didn't even want to identify, and stared at her.

"Why don't we just kill them, love?" he suggested again. His stomach growled as if in agreement.

"NO, for the hundredth time!" Darla shouted at him, then turned back to face a semi-conscious Angel. "That's not the point of this little exercise."

"What is the point, Darla?" Buffy snapped, hoping to turn her attention from him, "Is this a jealousy thing? Because if it is, why don't you just take me on?"

"Buffy..." Angel objected weakly.

It worked. Darla turned to her. "Jealous? Of YOU?" She laughed. "Oh, no, I don't think so! He left you, little girl!"

"He killed you!" Buffy snarled in response.

The vampire flinched visibly, but immediately collected herself. "Touché. But there's a very big, very powerful part of him that wants to kill you. Has always wanted to kill you. Right, darling?"

"You're right, love," Angelus replied.

Darla flashed him a look. "I wasn't talking to you." She approached Angel once more. "That's the point of the little melodrama, isn't it, my sweet? This game we've been playing out in your head? Who are you, Angel? Do you know? Are you the Slayer's knight in shining armor? Or are you my sweet, vicious demon? Are you 150 years of strength and power, or a century of moping and whining, hmm? Are you warm, living, pulsing life force drawn directly from the throat of terrified humans, or the crunching of filthy, diseased rats and sterile plastic bags?"

Angel didn't lift his head. Darla snorted derisively and wandered back to the fire. Buffy leaned as close to him as she could.

"Why are you letting her do this to you? This is your head -- do something!"

"I can't..." he groaned.

"You have to! Angel, you have to end this!"

Finally, he mustered the strength to look her in the eye. The emptiness she saw in his shook her to her foundations. "I can't, Buffy! Don't you see? It never ends! It'll be like this every day. Forever. I can't do it anymore!"

A rush of rage pulsed through Buffy. To see him so weak, when he had always been so stalwart... "So you're just going to let her BEAT YOU? KILL YOU? AGAIN?"

He shook his head. "There's nothing I can do. It's not worth it. I can't win."

Buffy had only heard this tone of defeat from him once before -- on a hilltop overlooking Sunnydale as he waited for the sun to rise on Christmas morning.

"YOU CAN!" she screeched, "You win every time you help somebody! Every time you reach out and make a difference in someone's life with caring or hope, you win! You can do it, Angel, I know you can!"

"Oh please. You're making me sick," Darla barked from where she stood by the fire. "He's right, little idiot! He can't win! Darkness is his true nature! It always has been. And anyone who knows anything about science knows that a substance disturbed always struggles back to its original essence. He only needs to admit it, and he'll be free! It's his choice."

Buffy struggled. She had to get free of the chains and fight Darla, even if Angel wouldn't.

His choice... She stopped. It was his dream they were trapped in. It was him, not Darla, who kept them bound.

"She's right," Buffy told him.

Angel's head snapped up, and he looked at her in unadulterated horror.

"It's your choice, Angel. You have to decide--leave us both here to die, or set us free. You have to do what you know is right."

It was a gamble. She was counting on his strength of character when she barely knew what shape his soul was really in. When had they grown so far apart? And why?

Their eyes locked. She knew he could hear her thoughts, her silent plea for him not to let it all end like this. Not when they'd come so far together and separately, and there was still so much that had to be done.

"I'm so terribly bored, Angel," Darla cut in, "Must you always do everything the hard way? Just come back to me. We can have it all again -- the freedom. The passion. Just let go. Kill her, and be free."

He dragged his eyes away from Buffy and stared at Darla for a choking eternity, during which she was almost certain that he was going to go with her. Choose death for both of them, and end his pain.

But a split second later, her chains suddenly gave way. She didn't hesitate, once she was free, but bounded across the room, landing a flying drop kick to Darla's face. There'd be time to deal with Angel's existential crisis later.

Buffy was shocked when her first punch made contact with Darla's skin, and she found that it was warm. Alive? Alive alive? The realization shocked her so badly, she lost her concentration for a moment, allowing Darla to land a punch squarely to her solar plexus that sent her flying across the room, slamming into the far wall. As her breath left her lungs in a painful whoosh, she thought, 'Awfully strong, for a human.'

A dream. This was a dream. And Angel had created some weird amalgam of human and vampire, giving it Darla's face. Buffy wished desperately for a stake, as they fought -- stakes were equally effective against evil humans as demons.

The moment the thought formed in her mind, a long, highly polished stake appeared in her hand.

"YES!" she cried, and plunged it deep into Darla's chest.

Nothing happened.

"Oh, shit," Buffy muttered.

"YOU CAN'T KILL ME, YOU FOOL!" Darla raged, "I LIVE IN HIS HEAD!"

Buffy looked wildly over at Angel. He was absolutely still, his head hung low.

"ANGEL, DO SOMTHI--OOF!"

Darla's kick landed squarely in her stomach, sending her tumbling backward. She wailed her head on the wall and fell to the floor, stunned. Darla advanced on her, the stake now in her hand.

"At last! For once and for all," the vampire hissed, "I'm going to banish you from his mind and his heart! Once you are vaporized, he'll forget all of this world-saving nonsense, and return to my side, where he belongs!"

The force that had held Buffy down in the sitting room returned and pressed down on her, leaving her unable to regain either strength or breath.

"You took him from his destiny. His true being. Your acceptance of him; your filthy unconditional love. You've been the only burden that has held him from his release. The deepest source of that damned soul's pain. If you no longer exist in his memory, he will be mine -- at last and forever."

Buffy's eyes shot to Angel. He now looked on the scene with quiet, resigned horror.

"Is that what you think?" she choked, "I'm a burden? I thought you said you still loved me! That I was your strength!"

Tears welled in his eyes. "I do. You are. But... the pain..."

"ANGEL!" she screamed. Darla was only a heartbeat away, the stake raised, "ANGEL, PLEASE!"

He stared at them, shuddering violently.

This was his dream. His thoughts. He wanted her gone, banished from his mind and heart. Dead. Buffy went limp. Of all the things she imagined he might be driven to in her most horrifying nightmares, she never thought he would want to wipe her from inside him. She looked up at him one last time, and smiled sadly.

"I understand," she said, and closed her eyes, waiting for the end.

It didn't come. After a few long moments when Buffy fully expected to feel shattering pain, and then nothingness, she opened her eyes.

Angel was free, standing tall and proud at the center of the cavern. Darla stood, the stake still in her hand, staring at him in frozen shock. Angelus was gone.

He strode slowly forward, approaching Darla as though she were a wounded animal, and gently pried the stake from her fingers. He looked into her eyes with a tenderness and intimacy that cut Buffy like the stake never could have. She wanted so badly to look away--not only because of the jealousy that ripped through her, but because she felt like a voyeur, witnessing something this private and personal in his mind.

Angel reached up with his free hand and brushed Darla's cheek. "In as much as a creature without a soul can love, I did love you, Darla. And I forgive you." He bent slowly and placed a kiss to her forehead. "Everything."

Darla's eyes filled with tears as she gaped up at him. "But... you... you're... mine," she said weakly. All the venom, all the righteous fury that had been in her voice since Buffy arrived had vanished. Now she sounded frightened.

Buffy felt a pang of pity rush through her at the demon's obvious pain. In her way, she probably had loved Angel. And Buffy knew intimately what it felt like to lose him. That was a wound that had never healed, in her.

Angel shook his head, smiling softly. "No. I'm not." With a final tender touch to her face, he turned away, toward Buffy. She stared up at him.

"Even with the pain," he said, "I need you." He reached out his hand.

Buffy took it, never letting her eyes stray from his, and he pulled her to her feet before him.

"You are my soul, Buffy. Without you inside of me, in my memory, in my heart, I'm nothing."

With a crackle of electricity, Darla disappeared, and with another, Buffy's eyes snapped open. She found herself lying beside Angel in his bed, the shadows of his room around them like a warm blanket. She turned slowly, and found him looking at her, his drawn, weary face wearing a small smile of wonder.

"You're really here," he whispered.

Without a word, Buffy moved over, and Angel took her in his arms, squeezing her so tightly against him, she thought his embrace might shatter her spine. She didn't care. For a long while she just lay there, her face buried in his chest, his strong arms around her, and thanked every power in the Heavens that he was still with her. Part VIII

Once they rose and went downstairs to join the others, all was in chaos. Angel's friends surrounded him, hugging him, shaking his hand, exchanging words of happiness and relief, buffeting him with questions. Buffy watched with some small measure of fear as Dawn got up from her seat and approached him. The others hadn't seemed to be affected by the monks' spell. What would Angel say?

He looked down at the young girl, his confusion clear on his face, then glanced at Buffy. His puzzlement seemed to grow as he noted the fear in her eyes, but his brow smoothed as he looked gently back at Dawn once more.

She patted his big shoulder. "I'm really glad you're not dead," she told him, smiling, "Buffy needs you. Even if she won't ever say so."

"Thanks," he replied, smiling broadly. His gaze turned to Buffy once more. "I need her, too. Even if I try not to."

Dawn made a face. Buffy met Angel's gaze and fought not to cry as he put his arm around her little sister, gave her an affectionate squeeze that made her roll her eyes (but blush at the same time), and the two of them came to join her at the counter.

"Oh, Jeeze," Cordy complained half-heartedly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once her phone call to Giles was completed, and Angel was once again busy with his friends (with an adoring Dawn looking on), Buffy went out to sit alone in the courtyard to think it all through. Riley... Darla... and most of all, Angel. All the things that she'd learned from being in his dreams...

How connected were they, really? It seemed much more tightly than she had imagined in the last couple of years. Was it simply love that bound them (if love could ever be called simple) or something far deeper that she was only just beginning to understand?

When she had been swimming in the lake of blood, and all those memories had washed over her, there were other things there, as well. Voices whispering to her. Pictures of times that she remembered, interspersed with things that had happened only to him. And most of all, memories--she was certain they were memories--of moments she knew they had never shared.

What was she supposed to learn from this? What possible role could Angel play in her Destiny, or she in his, when the details of their existence still hadn't really changed?

Buffy pondered this for a while, rolling the questions around in her head. She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice Angel's arrival until he sat down beside her on the stone bench and took her hand.

Turning to look at him caused a sensation of equal parts pain and joy to rip through her.

Angel gave her a tired, but genuine, smile. "What are you thinking?"

How long had it been since he asked her that? She gazed deeply into those rich, shining brown eyes, so full of the very things she was feeling--the joy, the agony, the confusion and simultaneous certainty. For a moment, she couldn't remember what she had been thinking.

So, she shrugged.

He pulled her hand to his lips and tenderly brushed her knuckles with a kiss.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Buffy swallowed hard, and searched frantically for her long lost cool. "I didn't do anything. You're the one who beat it... or... her... or whatever."

He smiled indulgently at her stuttering. "But you reminded me that I could. That I had to. That I had something to live for."

She wasn't certain what it was that he referred to. In fact, she was pretty sure from what she'd seen that she wasn't the only reason he went on -- not anymore. While the realization tore a whole new wound in her soul, it also was a comfort to know that he had more than one reason to fight... that he had gained so much more for himself, for his life. How much he'd grown. Angel thought he left her for her own good, when it turned out to have been the best thing for him, as well. She found that she was more proud of him in that moment than she ever dreamed possible.

Her earlier thoughts dawned on her once more. "Angel... what's Shanshu?" It was the one word from her epiphany that stuck in her mind. The voices had told her, over and over: His Destiny. Shanshu.

Angel flinched and averted his eyes.

"Angel..."

He sighed, his posture sagging. "I can't."

Buffy grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn back to her. "When I was in your dreams, I heard it. Over and over again. Shanshu. You know what it means. Tell me."

Her beloved raised his gaze to hers once more, and this time, she saw nothing but love there... love edged with regret.

What the Hell could Shanshu be that it put that kind of expression on his beautiful face? Some kind of horrible end of the world thing? Had Darla's specter been telling the truth when she said his destiny was to be Angelus... and to kill her?

No. He would have told her that.

'Or let himself die...'

She froze in a horror far worse than any of those she'd experienced in the past week. Was that what all of his dreaming had been about?

Finally, he ended her agonized waiting. "Last year while I was doing a job, I discovered a scroll. Or, rather... I stole it."

'Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,' her mind chanted.

Angel took a deep, unnecessary breath, and went on. "The Scroll of Aberjian. And it contained prophecies... about my Destiny."

He stopped.

"And?" Buffy squeaked. 'Just say it. Please. Just say it.'

"And... my reward."

Reward. The word sunk into her fear, melting it like a hot coal in snow.

"Your reward," she echoed.

He nodded. "When the battles are done... when I've saved humanity and balanced the scales... I'll be human again."

She stared at him, utterly unable to move or breathe or anything. But a moment later, her frozen shock was washed away by a blazing wave of anger. She let go of his hand and jumped to her feet.

"Why didn't you tell me? Don't you think I had a right to know that?"

Angel looked shamed. "I couldn't tell you, Buffy. You seemed..." He averted his gaze, his voice going soft. "Satisfied. Happy. It might not happen in your lifetime. I couldn't let you pine away, waiting for something that you might never see. You've given me so much." He reached up and took her hand once more. "I couldn't let you give that too."

For another score of heartbeats, Buffy glared down at him, furious that once again, he had taken such an important decision out of her hands, as though she were a stupid child.

But then she realized that he was right. She never would have had the opportunity to learn just how important he was to her for herself, if he had told her. She never would have gone through all of the things she had in her life. All the experiences, the pain, the hard, hard lessons that had tempered her, filled her, and led her to this very moment, and the true appreciation of what it meant.

She laughed. Laughed so long and hard that she was forced to collapse beside him on the steps. She laughed until her eyes were filled with tears, and she had to lean against his broad form to keep from falling over with it.

Angel stared at her, obviously confused by her response. When the last chuckles faded away, Buffy wiped at her eyes and looked up at him.

"You are so..." She shook her head. "God damn noble... and sweet... and STUPID! God, Angel! I was always waiting for you anyway, even when I pretended I wasn't! Do you think--really think--that for even one minute while we were apart, that I wasn't thinking about you? Waiting and hoping that someday, somehow, we'd be together again?"

A frown creased his brow. "But... you said... you loved Riley."

She closed her eyes, remembering the pain of that moment. "I'm sorry. I said that to hurt you, because you hurt me. I care about Riley. I really do. But... my heart already belongs to somebody. It always will."

The confusion on his features softened to tenderness, and he took her into his arms, holding her tightly. "I just want... more than anything... for you to be happy. I love you, Buffy. No matter what. No matter how far away you are, or who you're with. Nothing will ever change that."

She sighed into his delicious embrace, his cool scent, and his calm strength. Everything would be all right. For him, for her, and eventually, for the two of them together. "I love you, too... so much. God... so much."

They held each other for a long while, watching the moon move across the sky, until Angel pulled away.

"We still have a long way to go, Buffy. A lot to learn. And a lot of what I need to do... I have to do alone. I have to earn that reward."

She nodded. "I know. But... you might have to face all that stuff... and I've got my own dealing to do. But you don't ever have to bear it all alone. You have your friends to talk to. And you have me. Please. If I learned anything from this, it's that I need your presence in my life, Angel, like I need air to breathe. I want to help you. Don't turn away from me if you need me. I'm your friend. You can talk to me about anything."

His smile grew. "Yeah. I know I can. And you can too."

She nudged him with her elbow. "I've got no problem reminding you how great you are. Anytime you need it."

Angel reached up and brushed a stray hair from her face, watching it catch the moonlight before he let it fall and looked into her eyes once more. "I don't think Riley will appreciate that much."

Her smile slipped. "My family comes first."

He cocked an eyebrow at her bizarre response, but let it go. "Speaking of which, who is that girl that came with you?"

Buffy sighed. "It's a really long story."

He put his arm around her and tucked her tightly to his side. "I've got time."

Nestled against his chest, feeling safer and more sure than she had in years, Buffy told him about the Key, and about Glory. About her Mom. About Riley and Adam and the Initiative. About Parker... everything she had kept inside her since the day he left.

Angel held her and listened until long after the sunrise.

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