Part 35

"Bloody hell," Spike shouted, spinning around and staking a vampire. "You stupid idiots, will you stop trying to bite my neck! I'm a bleeding vampire you block heads." Slipping into his game face, he punched another vampire straight into its face.

"And I'm no vampire at all," came Faith's hiss from the side. "But you shouldn't try fooling around with a slayer either, it's lethal," she said while another demon disintegrated into ashes right in front of her. "Xander, look out!"

The young man whirled around but the approaching vampire was already on him, its head lowering towards the human's throat.

"Will you stop trying to eat my boyfriend," Anya jumped the vampire's back, clinging to him she began to hit its head with the stake she was holding in her hand. Then the demon was suddenly gone and Anya stumbled to the ground.

"Next time," Faith said, towering above her, "no hitting, just sta-, oh no, you don't," with a swift movement she was able to remove a demon from her back, slamming it into the wall in the process. "Sorry," she said, not feeling sorry at all, "but this is your stop." The stake found its mark and for a moment silence settled over the tunnel. "Are we all clear?" she asked looking around.  "Kate?"

"Fine," the police officer coughed through all the ashes in the air. "That was quite a bunch of them."

"Yeah, a bunch, but stupid as hell," Spike remarked, dusting off his clothes. "You know, I just realized that vampire ashes are a real nuisance if you try to get them out of your clothing. Last time I washed-"

"Wait a second," Faith interrupted looking at him very oddly, "you actually *wash* your clothes?"

"Of course I wash my clothes," he seemed honestly insulted by her words, "Just because I'm a vampire it doesn't mean I've lost my sense of style. Clean clothes are a part of it."

"Then how many outfits do you own exactly?"

"Uh - one," he mumbled.

"And if you..." she tilted her head, then started laughing, "you mean you're..." she was now laughing so hard she had to hold your belly. "Oh God!"

"Hey, no need to make fun of a vampire," he grumbled.

"Well, not that this isn't extremely interesting, especially after we're barely survived a vampire attack, but may I remind you that there's still an open hellmouth waiting for us." Xander shook his head not quite believing what he was hearing.

"Just thinking that Spike's standing naked while..." the slayer couldn't stop the mental images flying through her mind and as a result, the laughing wouldn't stop.

"Okay," the vampire growled, "I think we all got it now. Stop laughing!"

She took a deep breath, her grin still wide, "But Xander is right, we need to get going."

"Do you also think it's cold all of a sudden?" Kate asked, rubbing her arms.

"Yeah," Anya agreed, "it's almost freezing."

"And what's this?" Faith pointed at the spot where the light was coming from.

"Mist ... uh-oh," Xander said alarmed. "I-" The words died in his throat and confused he tried to speak on, but no sound was coming out. He was reminded by another time when the Gentlemen had stolen their voices. 'Anya', he mouthed trying to communicate with his girlfriend.

'What's going on?' she mouthed back.

'Bloody hell," Xander could read from Spike before the mist became denser and seeing each other was suddenly difficult.

**Oh great**, Xander thought, **no voice, so sight, just what we need**. Then Anya disappeared completely from his view.

*****

Buffy blinked against the bright light of the cavern she found herself in. The last thing she remembered was encountering too many Morah-demons that had been sent to take them prisoner and lucky for them, they succeeded. Angel had... Angel! Panic surged through her and she frantically looked around in search of her lover.

When her eyes fell on him, a sound escaped her mouth. He was huddled into a corner, his eyes closed, bruises marring his face, his head and back leaning against the wall. She scrambled over and took his hand, "Angel," she whispered, her hands moving over him, checking him for serious injuries. "Angel, please, wake up," the last word was lost in a sob.

Where were they, what was going on? The Morah demons had overwhelmed them, and then Buffy remembered falling into unconsciousness and now she found herself at a unknown location, with an unknown fate although she had a very good idea what this was all about.

"Buffy."

The hoarse voice of her lover had her head snapping around. "Angel, how are you?" she asked urgently.

"As if a truck ran right over me," he replied, looking at her, then around, "Where are we?"

"That's the one-million-dollar question," she said, getting up and looking for exits. There were windows, but each one of them was secured by bars that looked very solid. The only door was made of iron and seemed solid as well. "It looks like we're locked up... somewhere."

"Yeah, that much I gathered," Angel muttered and struggled to get up. With a groan, he leaned forward, and Buffy was by his side in an instant.

"Easy there, big guy, easy. You might be a vampire, but they beat us up pretty hard or rather you," she said a bit sheepishly. "I only remember being hit on the head and passing out. Not very heroic."

He smiled at her lovingly when he finally straightened. "I saw you go down," he said, his eyes shadowed. He could remember the rage when had seen them touching his mate and the panic when he saw her sink to the ground. "But if it's any help, I didn't hold out much longer," he grimaced and touched his ribs. He could tell a couple of them were broken, but also healing already. Fortunately, he'd fed before they'd left the mansion and was in no need of blood.

Buffy looked around again, "This sucks," she said planting her hands on her hips, "if I at least knew where we are," she shook her head, hating feeling helpless, hating being the prey and not the hunter.

"I don't think there's much we can do," Angel walked over to the bars securing the windows, "There's no way we can get out the usual way and the witches aren't with us - unfortunately.""Oh God, Willow!" the slayer paled, "Do you think they're alright? Do you think their spell worked? And what about the others... God, Angel, we need to get out of here."

"I agree, but as I said before, I don't see how," he moved towards the door, trying the handle, he shook his head, "Damn it. This really isn't what we needed."

Buffy began to pace the room they were in, her strides impatient and angry, "There has to be a way out of here," she said, punching one fist into the palm of the other hand. "The others need our help."

"I know," Angel said quietly, "but-"

She whirled around, suddenly furious with him, with the situation, with her own helplessness, "Don't be so damned rational," she spat. "They could die, Angel, our friends could be dead already, don't you even care?"

The same moment, when his eyes clouded over with pain, she wanted to kill herself for saying it. "Oh, Angel," tears welled up in her eyes, "I'm sorry," she whispered, one of her hands flying to her lips. "I didn't mean that, I swear, I didn't."

His answering smile was a bit shaky, "I know," he assured her, holding a hand out for her.

Without hesitation she went into his arms, holding him, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she repeated. "I know you care. It's just... I feel so helpless. I'm the slayer, I'm supposed to protect them, and here I am, caged in, damned to do nothing." She leaned her head against his chest and his hand was stroking her hair.

"I know," he said, "I understand. I feel the same. Our friends are out there, fighting our fight."

"Yeah," she agreed, laying a hand over the spot where his heart had once beaten, the heart that was still now, yet nevertheless feeling so strongly, and... Her eyes flew open, she gasped and something close to pain ripped through her head and body. Images, playing vividly in her mind. Images of another time, another place and...

"Oh God," her head jerked up, her eyes locking with his, hers full of pain and grief, his confused, not understanding.

He grabbed her shoulders and shook them slightly, "Buffy! What is it? What is the matter?"

"Angel... I... you..." she stuttered.

"I, what?"

"You were human." She forced the words through her constricted throat.

He jerked back, staring at her, "What?" he whispered, with horror clenching his guts. "What are you talking about?"

"You were human," she repeated, calmer now. The images in her head were clearing, giving way to understanding, opening the gates of memory. But with the memories came more pain, more guilt, "Oh, God," she sobbed, clutching to him, "you were human. I felt your heart beat."

"Buffy," he choked, realizing what was happening, remembering a time when she'd said the exact same thing. A moment when she'd cried in his arms, clinging to him with all her might, begging for more time, for another fate, for mercy.

"And you gave it back. You asked them to turn you back. Oh God!" She was sobbing harder now. She held him tightly, desperately needing the closure, guilt almost overwhelming her. "And I... oh God," there was nothing she could do or say to excuse her actions, nothing that would ever repay what he'd given up for her.

Then another memory came. She saw herself and Angel facing each other, shouting at each other, hurting each other, heard herself telling him how much she loved Riley, how much she trusted Riley... "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Angel, I'm so sorry," she sobbed again, not able to look at him. "I hurt you," she cried, "I never loved Riley, Angel. I'm sorry, I lied to you."

"What?" again he was confused.

"I was telling you I loved Riley. I never did, I promise," she touched his face, caressed his cheeks, her eyes begging for forgiveness. "What sort of person was I? What happened? How could I go and be with Riley, tell you I loved him after what you gave up for me? What kind of person does something like that?"

"Shhh," he soothed her, kissing her forehead, "Buffy-"

"No," her reply was sharp. "Only a very cold-hearted person would do such a thing. Only a bi-"

"You didn't know," he interrupted her gently. "You didn't know, Buffy," he repeated, his gentle hands trailing over her cheeks, her lips, her jaw, his eyes shining with love, with understanding.

"What?" she shook her head in confusion. "That's nonsense, Angel. I lost my memory only recently..." she trailed off when she saw him shaking his head, "What?"

"Don't ask me why you regained the memory of that day now," he began in a try to explain, "Because I don't understand it. Obviously... although it should be impossible... you are remembering it with all the other stuff in your life. But you were never meant to remember that day."

"Why?" Her eyes were brimming with tears, begging him to explain.

"In order to turn me back into a vampire, the Oracles or the Powers That Be, whoever was in charge, had to turn back the day. When I asked them to turn me back I had no idea that would be the only way, but considering all facts I agreed." The smile on his face was sad, but full of love, "There was no way I could watch you die without being able to help."

"But why don't... didn't I remember?"

"It was to spare you the agony of remembering something that could never be.""But... you...?" she didn't finish the sentence, but he understood nevertheless.

"One of us had to remember or it might have happen again," he explained, stroking her cheek.

"So all this time you remembered and I was completely oblivious?" She saw him nod and went on, "Well that sucks."

Despite all the pain the revelation had caused, Angel felt himself chuckle, "Yeah," he agreed, "It does. But then our life sucks most of the time anyway."

"True," she nodded, resolutely wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hands, "But no more," she said, her chin coming up. "This time we're going to stay together.""Buffy..." he wanted to remind her of the still very existent danger, but what could he say in the face of the hope and optimism she'd forced into her eyes, when he was looking at her and the love was shining from them.

"We will stay together," her voice was firm. "You have to believe it. And we will survive this and so will all our friends. We need to believe it."

"Buffy-" he started again, but was cut off by a voice.

"Again with the negative," the voice chuckled and they both spun around to look at the person talking to them. They hadn't heard a door opening and when Angel came face to face with the owner of the voice, he almost fainted.

"D-Doyle?" he gasped.

"Aye, that's me. Alan Francis Doyle, at your service, sir," he grinned and added, "madam," then bowled slightly.

"You're dead," Angel managed to choke out.

"My, aren't you clever tonight," the Irishman joked. "Yeah, I am. So what? You're dead, too," he said, grinning. "Hasn't slowed you down so far. Nice to meet you again, Buffy," he turned towards the slayer, his grin widening into a leer. "Can't blame the bugger," he sighed, "He has remarkable taste."

"What's going on?" the vampire asked confused, his eyes never leaving Doyle's form.

"What do you think?" the Irishman rolled his eyes heavenward. "They didn't just let me die, that's going on. When I jumped onto that... thing, I thought I'd die, go to heaven, have a nice life, but no such luck. Once a messenger, always a messenger, they told me. So here I am. Giving you a message."

"So you're a ghost?" Buffy asked cautiously.

"Sort of," he nodded, "But not really." He reached out and touched her arm.

She jumped back, touching the spot herself, "You're solid."

"Yeah," his grin was back in place. "I'm getting better at that. I'm able to hold that for about half an hour now. It's quite an experience." He suddenly rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air, his gaze directed upward again, "Yeah, yeah. Calm down." He chuckled and looked at vampire and slayer, "They're getting annoyed. No socializing, you know. Nothing allowed besides duty."

"They?" Buffy raised a questioning brow.

"The Powers up there. Really focused on their tasks. Boring. Yeah, yeah," he shouted. "Okay, so here's the message. You want to know why she remembers, I suppose," he said. Seeing them both nod, he continued, "It's all about your sacrifice," he looked at Angel.

"My sacrifice?"

"When you agreed to have the time turned back," Doyle clarified, "You made a bargain for her life. And so they gave her back to you. Willow's spell," he said, grinning at their confused expressions. "Hey, you don't think some human spell could bring back a person from death, do you? *They* brought you back or rather, they altered the spell so that it worked. And back you were. But in order to bring you back they also had to restore your memory."

"Uh - really hating to contradict here, but I lost my memory. I'm just regaining it now."

"That's mot quite right," Doyle, said, "Your memory wasn't lost, just hidden. Anyways. In order to restore your memory they had to bring everything back. You can't just leave out a part."

"So the day that was turned back was part of it."

"Exactly," Doyle smiled at Angel. "That's exactly what happened. You were always such a clever fellow."

"Can you tell us what happens now?" Buffy asked.

"Sorry. I'm just a messenger, the future is no more apparent to me than for you. They don't tell me. The guys are secretive, I'm telling you..." he sighed deeply, then looked at the ceiling again, "I'm coming. Sorry my friends, but I have to go. Time's over."

With a regretful smile, he spread his arms, "Was nice seeing you. Both of you," he said, bowing again.

"Doyle," Angel reached out but didn't touch him, "I'm glad too."

The Irishman nodded, his eyes suddenly feeling moist. "Let's not get emotional here," he tried to cover his reaction, "I just did my job. And... oh, I almost forgot. They gave me another message for you. Whatever it means. They said to remind you that together you are strong. Helps any?"

"Yeah," Angel nodded. "I think it does."

"Good," Doyle smiled again while he was already beginning to disintegrate. "Uh-oh, time's up. Nice meetin' you again, Buffy. See you. Give my love to the princess," he added quickly, his image fading more and more. "I'll always regret we weren't given a bit more time."

There was a little noise and he was gone. For a moment both, slayer and vampire, just stared at the spot where he'd been only seconds before.

Buffy was the first to find her voice again, "Together we are strong?" she eyed her lover quizzically.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Someone said that before and he was right. Together we're strong. We must never forget that."

"He was a good friend," it wasn't a question. "I'm sorry he died."

Angel looked at her, the woman he loved more than his life. He was sorry too, and had missed Doyle, his friend, a person who had been able to understand what he was going to up to a certain extent. He'd mourned his death and blamed himself for it for a while, but it was gone now and an unexpected smile played on his lips, when he bent down and kissed her on the tip of her nose, "Me too," he said, "and I miss him, but he doesn't seem unhappy, does he? And I have a definite feeling it wasn't the last we've seen of him," he shook his head and pulled her close, "Together we are strong," he repeated the words. "We need to believe that. You were right, we need to believe."

And when he felt her warm body pressing against his, he felt himself really believing those words, felt hope and the same optimism that had been shining in her eyes before and he could've sworn that he heard Doyle laugh from above them

Part 36

"Where are we going?" Giles asked for the umpteenth time while he was following Dawn back through the tunnels.

"I already told you, I don't know." She was slowly getting annoyed with him. Adults, she thought inwardly. Always needing rational explanations. And watchers. The worst of all. "*You* were the one who said I couldn't go on my own," she said.

"And rightfully so," he replied, fighting for breath. No, he wasn't eighteen anymore and the fact that he wasn't working out with Buffy anymore hadn't helped to improve his condition. "This *vision* you were talking about doesn't seem to be very clear."

"I didn't have a vision," she said angrily. "And I told you that already too. Someone was speaking with me. It was... weird. But the voice said it would lead me and here I am or rather we."

"Yeah, we," Giles frowned at her back. He sighed inwardly. He wasn't just getting old, he was getting senile, and gullible. Here he was, a rational, well-trained watcher, soon to be a member of the mighty Council and he was following a 14-year-old girl that was claiming to hear a voice. A *voice*!

Dawn had gone pale all of a sudden, and then backed to the wall. They had heard a whimper coming from her mouth, her hands flying to her head as if she had been crying. Only five minutes later, she had declared there was a voice and she needed to follow it. Someone was in need of help, in danger. But of course she couldn't say who was in danger, nor could she explain where it happened or what the danger was.

Now they were rushing through the sewer tunnels following some *voice*. And the hellmouth behind them was wide open and pulsing with energy. It was so strong now that even Giles had been able to feel it.

He was so deep in thoughts that he almost bumped right into her when she suddenly stopped. "Wait," her voice was only a whisper now. "It's here. Somewhere," her eyes darted around wildly.

"What and where?" he asked.

"I don't know," she hissed angrily. "But I will, as soon as I've found it."

"Oh great," he muttered.

"I heard that. Just so you... Oh!" excitedly she was almost jumping up and down. "It's there," she pointed towards a heavy door mate of iron.

"There?" Giles raised a brow. "Behind that door?"

"Yeah, behind that door. Come one."

****

It was like walking in the clouds, Spike thought. And for a soulless vampire the very thought of heaven was quite irritating. Not even his preternatural vision was helping him this time. The mist around him was so thick he had problems seeing his own hand. And if this wasn't enough, he couldn't hear anyone - not even himself. And badass vampire or not, this was mighty frightening. You didn't lose your ability to speak every day.He stood still, his arms spread wide as he tried to grab something. Anything. But there was plain nothing. What had happened to the others? Where were they? Not that he cared, he said to himself quickly, but you should at least know what was around you.

The good thing was little bit wasn't around. The slayer would never forgive him if something happened to her and... he really didn't give a damn what Buffy thought or if she forgave him or not. She was with the poof now, hadn't spared a second thought for him. His darned grand-sire just had to step through the door and good old Spike wasn't important anymore. No time he'd helped her counted as long as she could jump the bugger's bones. Oh well, then she could have him, for all he cared.

Besides, Faith was all the slayer he could take. This girl was a whole lot of woman, with stamina to be admired. Their little interlude this afternoon had been more than surprising for him. Not that it happened at all. She'd been sending out signs from the first moment, at least for a vampire who was a little bit more sensible towards those things than humans. The surprising part had been the act itself. Surprising and satisfying.

And that meant something coming from a more than 200 years old vampire. Not that he was the connoisseur his grand-sire had been. He rarely cheated on Drusilla, not because of lack of opportunity. There had been more than one woman - vampire or human - who had been attracted to him, but Drusilla could be furious if she was jealous and her punishments hadn't always been pleasant. Plus, he'd been so helplessly in love with her, like an idiot he'd even taken her back after she'd thrown herself at Angelus' neck some years ago.

Yes, Faith was special. She wasn't like Buffy. Of course he couldn't tell about the sex-part, his grand-sire would burn his hide if he'd do so much as think about the blond. No, but otherwise. She was angry, aggressive, liked the power the job of a slayer involved and had learned to find her way in this world the hard way. In short, she was a lot like him. She had taken all of him this afternoon, but hadn't held back either. Yes, he decided, she was someone he could get used to. Too bad, she would go back to jail in a few days.

But then, maybe not. It never paid to get addicted to a human being. Spike knew that better than anyone else. They used you as long as they needed you, then remembered you didn't have a soul and kicked your butt right to the moon.

He started when his hand suddenly met something solid. The wall! He'd found a way to the wall. Well, that was something. At least he wasn't lost anymore. On the other hand, there was the wall, but try as he might, he couldn't remember if the hellmouth was to the left or to the right. Damn it! This was beginning to get annoying.

"Oh," a startled voice said to his right.

A voice?

"Who..." he had to clear his throat, surprised to hear his own voice again. "Who is there?"

"It's me." The voice was annoyed now.

"That's just my luck. Why did it have to be you?"

Anya narrowed her eyes towards the voice, not able to see the person it belonged to, but knowing whom it was nevertheless. "Sorry for that. I wouldn't haven chosen you if I could."

"Why not?" his voice sounded almost insulted.

"Huh?" A vampire feeling insulted?

"I said-"

"I know what you said," she shot at him. "Well for once, I don't like you. You're a vampire. I've seen a lot of you during my times. And I never met one I liked."

"Is that so?" he asked acidly.

"Yes," she spat. "You are all evil, without conscience, you-"

"You risk a pretty big mouth, considering you're standing right in front of a vampire."

"Ha! You have a chip," she grinned, but he couldn't see it. **Damn**

"I do have a chip," he said slowly, enjoying each moment of his reply, "but I do have friends who don't."

She was silent for a moment, then the meaning of the words sank in, "You wouldn't do that," she said, but he could hear the quiver in her voice.

"Maybe. Maybe not," he shrugged. Although he could've spared the gesture in this mist. Or fog. Or whatever was all around them.

"Who is talking over there?"

"Xander," Anya cried. "You are alive."

"So it seems," he replied sarcastically, and then a hand came out of the fog and took hers. "Anya. At least I can hear you now. And feel."

"It's an improvement, although I'd rather see too."

"Faith," Xander turned his head towards the voice. "Where are you?"

"We're over here. I think at the opposite wall," she said. "Kate is with me."

"Is she alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. A bit disoriented though," the police officer's voice was loaded with sarcasm. "God, if I tell anyone how I spent my vacation..." she shook her head and chuckled. "Where does this fog come from?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," Faith frowned, trying to make a sense out of what was happening. "Why did we lose our voice? And more importantly, why did we get it back?"

"I don't know why we lost it, but I would risk betting that getting it back was due to our little witches," Xander said.

"Willow," the slayer slapped her own forehead. "And Tara. Of course. It must be their doing. Now, it would be nice if they could get rid of the fog too. And then show us the way to the others. And then I'd like to meet the someone who thought we were nice to play with." The aggression in her voice was clearly audible.

"We could hold onto the wall and just find our way towards the hellmouth that way," Anya proposed.

"Great idea. If we knew which way the hellmouth was," Spike said.

"I thought you had such a great nose. Can't you smell it?" she asked him.

"Can't you?" he shot back. "Thinking about it. A chip is one thing. But it has to be rather pathetic, having been a mighty vengeance demon for 1100 years and now being reduced to a mere human. Ow!" he yelped when she hit him over the head.

"Take it that way. I, at least, can hit you. So, can't you smell it?"

"No," he shook his head, "no smell. It's gone..." he paused, then thought about it and said, "Which, thinking about it, is rather odd, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Faith felt uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Weird."

They all gasped when suddenly the floor underneath them began to vibrate.

"An earthquake," Anya cried, clutching Xander's hand.

"No, it isn't an earthquake." Spike closed his eyes, tried to feel. There was a pull. A shift. Something was pulling him. The urge to follow was so strong he had to consciously avoid following it. He had read about this, felt it everywhere in Sunnydale. The energy, the magick. But never had it been as strong as it was now. "We don't need directions or sight," he announced. "Faith, Kate, come over here, take each others hands. And then just follow me."

****

Buffy's head snapped around when she heard a noise coming from a door and only seconds later she saw it open, revealing two faces she'd never have expected to see. "Dawnie! Giles!" She let go of Angel and threw her arms around her sister's neck.

"It's good to see you," Angel said a bit more calmly, looking at Giles. "How did you know we were here?"

"I didn't-"

"I did," Dawn cut him off, freeing herself from Buffy's embrace. "I heard a voice and it lead me here. It was so cool! It was like having some powers, being special - kind of like you," she looked at her sister. "Way cool," she emphasized her point.

Before any of the others could react, she already went on, "And Giles was running after me, shouting all the time," she giggled when she saw him glare, "Anyways. Then we came here found the door. And then," she had to take a breath, "you wouldn't believe it, Giles just pulled something out of his pocket, wham-bam and the door was open. Like they show in the movies," she reported, "In the old movies at least but then Giles is old and so it's just..." she trailed off when she realized his glare had deepened. "Ooops, sorry."

"That's okay, Dawnie," Buffy put a hand on her sister's arm, "the important part is you found us and got us out of here. How are the others? Are they okay?"

"They're fine," Giles assured her. "At least they were when we left. Of course we have no way of knowing how things are with Faith's group."

The slayer frowned, "Why not? Haven't you met already?"

"No," the watcher sighed deeply. "Nothing went as planned the moment theInitiative messed things up."

"The Initiative?" Buffy looked at him quizzically while understanding dawned in Angel's eyes.

"The first explosion," he said, "they placed a bomb. On the hellmouth."

"WHAT?" the blond yelped. "They did what?" her eyes darted wildly between Giles and Angel. "Is he right?" she asked finally focusing on her watcher.

"Unfortunately, yes. I'm afraid they had the extremely stupid idea to close the hellmouth that way and of course, the opposite happened. They opened it with one blow."

"Did Riley know?" Buffy wanted to know.

"He says he got the orders after we parted at the mansion, and I believe him, he seemed honestly shocked by the things that happened." Giles reached towards his nose for his glasses and not finding them, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"He had a cell phone," Dawn said casually. When they all turned towards her, she shrugged. "It was on his belt. I saw it when we met him in the tunnels. I was wondering why he didn't use it to inform us."

"I for one would be very interested in his answer," Buffy gritted out.

"He was torn," Angel said simply, "between us and the loyalty to his troops. Don't be too hard on him. It's a tough choice."

"No, it isn't," she replied stubbornly, not quite sure if she was angry with him for doing so, or just with the fact he existed at all. She still wasn't really over all the emotional stuff she and Angel had been through while they'd been locked up in that room. The discovery of Angel's humanity, his sacrifice and her actions following it were a burden of guilt on her soul and somehow Riley was like the personification of her own failure.

Of course Angel had assured her that he didn't blame her, that she hadn't known, that he'd wanted her to find someone else and be happy. **Yeah, sure. Could've fooled me.** But that didn't mean she could forgive herself just like that. At the moment she felt as if she had cheated on the man who had literally given his life for her. And that, she noticed with an inward sigh, was her real dilemma.

"If he knew or not," Angel said gently. He felt her tense and put an arm around her shoulders. "At least we know now what happened. And now we need to go there. I wonder how successful Willow and Tara have been with their spell."

Part 37

Fire and debris shot out of the hellmouth when Angel, Buffy, Giles and Dawn arrived there, but to their surprise there was no multi-headed snake, nor were there any masters trying to surface and also the flow of vampires had stopped.

"What's happening?" Buffy panted, coming to a halt beside Faith. She was glad to see her sister slayer well and kicking. Or rather, not kicking. There wasn't anything to kick for the moment.

"Don't ask me," the brunette said. "We just got here," she informed the other slayer.

"Just?" the blond raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. They had some nice surprises for us in the other tunnel. When we came here they were all staring at the hellmouth, the soldier-guys, Gunn, the whole bunch, because nothing happened - well, besides spitting fire and stuff." She nodded towards the hole that was wide open and at closer inspection they could see vampires down there trying to get to the surface, but somehow being blocked by some invisible barrier.

"Magick," Angel came up behind Buffy, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It must be Willow's and Tara's doing."

"That's what I thought," Wesley glanced at Riley and his friends who were staring down the hole, eyes wide in shock. And the former watcher had to admit that the view they had from the outskirts of hell wasn't too pleasant. The vampires looked desperate, the masters angry, the demons were roaring - and although they were all evil creatures the whole picture of torture wasn't inviting. "So I think it's safe to assume they are alright."

"I truly hope so," Buffy replied, her eyes never leaving the hellmouth.

"Hey, they're witches, if danger comes up they just freeze it or burn it or... whatever," Xander gave the slayer a smile.

"How long is this spell going to work?" Dawn asked finally what the others were thinking. "I mean they can't hold it forever, can they?"

"No, I suppose not," Giles, agreed, "we have to do something to make this final, to close it up - again."

"You feel that, Peaches?" Spike came to stand beside his grand-sire.

"Yeah," the dark-haired vampire nodded. "It's strong."

"What? What's happening?" Buffy looked confused from one vampire to the other.

"The energy is still increasing," Angel, explained, "something's happening down there. Willow and Tara's spell might block them from the surface, but that doesn't mean they aren't working down there."

"Oh look," Spike suddenly pointed towards a certain vampire, "that's the guy we met before. Bloody hell, the guy actually climbed down there."

"Guys!"

They all whirled around at the sound of the well-known voice. "Willow!" Buffy raced towards her friend, embracing her. "Are you alright? How did you get here?"

She made a dismissive gesture, "Oh, that. Just a little spell. Made the boulders disappear. Anyways. We need to do something," her eyes searched for Angel, then for Giles, "Tara's holding the barrier at the moment. We took turns with it, but she's going to be exhausted soon. We need to think about something more... final."

"Yes, yes," Wesley looked at Giles, "we-"

He couldn't finish the sentence when the whole scene suddenly began to shake – as it had before, as if there was an earthquake. The two vampires doubled over in pain, falling to the ground, clutching their heads.

"ANGEL," Buffy screamed the same time Faith shouted, "SPIKE." Both kneeling down beside their lovers.

"Angel what is it? Angel!" Buffy cried with panic in her voice. Pleading eyes looked up at Giles, "What's happening to him? Please, help."

"Buffy," Angel choked, grabbing her hand. "I - I'm okay, ahhh." He closed his eyes again, fought the pain and nausea that seemed to consume him. "It's the hellmouth," he pressed out, "they... they're try-  trying to open the Gate."

"Good God," Giles kneeled down beside him as well. "Are you sure?"

"Sure, he's bleeding hell sure," Spike shouted, sitting up, seemingly not as affected by whatever was happening as his grand-sire. "They're using magick on us."

"Magick?" Buffy's eyes widened in horror. "They... they..."

"Yes," Angel took a deep breath, the pain slowly lessening, "They tried to remove my soul, they were working magick from down there."

"But they couldn't," Willow said proudly. "Our spell's too good for them." She smiled at the dark-haired vampire on the ground.

"But why was Spike affected by the spell then? He's got no soul," Anya asked, looking at the blond vampire very oddly.

"Of course I don't have a soul," he shouted indignantly. "And I don't want one."

"You said they were trying to open the Gate," Giles interrupted them, ignoring them completely, "How can you know?," he asked.

"I just know," Angel replied, standing up. "I can't explain how, but I'm sure."

"Yeah, me too," Spike agreed, glaring at Anya. Why did they make demons anyway, he wondered? Then instantly regretted the thought. Sure he was a vampire, but he was a demon as well in the strictest sense.

"Whatever you're planning," Willow said, her voice urgent, "it has to happen soon. I can feel Tara weakening. She won't be able to hold this any longer."

Giles stared at the vampires and slayers, dread tightening his guts, then exchanged a look with Wesley to find his expression mirrored in him. The two watchers had discussed this possible situation before. They hadn't liked what they found out and now in the face of danger Giles liked it even less. "There's only one way," his eyes searching for and finding Angel.

The dark-haired vampire looked at him for what seemed a long moment but what was only seconds then nodded, "Alright, I'm going."

"You're going?" Buffy asked confused. "Where are you going?"

He put a hand on her shoulder, locking his eyes with hers, "Buffy, there is only one way to close the Gate."

"Only one... NO! No way. You're not going down there."

"Buffy, I-"

"NO!" her voice was sharp and tinged with panic. "Giles, tell me, he doesn't have to."

The watcher shook his head sadly, "Sorry, Buffy. And," he turned to look at Angel again, "and sorry, Angel. Because you all need to go. One person won't make it. You, Buffy, Spike and Faith have to go."

"WHAT?" Spike shouted, staring at Giles, "No bleedin' way I'm going down there, it's hot. It looks hot and really... unpleasant.""Wimp," Anya and Faith snorted at the same time.

"HEY," he yelped indignantly, "I'm a bad ass vampire, what do I care for the world?"

"Maybe you should consider what they're going to do to you the moment they realize you're sort of, well, neutered," Angel smirked at his reluctant grand-childe.

The blond vampire frowned, "If you put it that way," he grumbled. "Alright, I'm going. Tell us what we have to do."

"I'm going to cast a disguising spell on you," Willow explained, then pulled something from her pocket, handing it to Angel. "You'll need that as soon as you're down there. It's the spell to close the Gate. I... hope it'll work."

"You hope?" Spike yelped again. "Oh this is so bloody great, we're going to dive into fire and the chamber of torture and all you can do is hope. Oh Jesus bleeding Christ, what did I ever do to end up here?"

"Okay," Angel took the spell from Willow.

"You can used this only if you're near enough," she told him. "You need to be at least 10 feet close. Then you have to recite the spell three times. That will - in theory - close the gate."

"Understood," Buffy nodded. "Faith?"

"Check," the brunette slayer replied, her face all business she was clutching a stake in her fist.

"Then cast the spell," Buffy said, looking at Willow.

"Okay," the witch nodded, "this spell will make you invisible for the vampires in the outer dimension for exactly one hour. After that," she took a deep breath," Well, I suppose you get the picture."

"Yeah, yeah, after that they're going to slaughter us," Spike shook his head, wishing he was anywhere but here. His eyes darted to Faith. No, not even the greatest sex was worth this. He looked at her again. Her chin was lifted in determination, her eyes burning with something close to fever - battle spirit, Spike recognized - her whole body radiating power and strength. But Hell, she was beautiful and the idea of her dying without him caused a feeling he hadn't had for a long time. Spike recognized it and instantly hated it. This was really the worst time to realize you cared for somebody. Even more so for a soulless vampire with a chip.

Willow gulped, "Uh... yeah, kind of."

"We hope it will all be over in an hour. Everything that's behind the Gate won't be fooled by the disguise spell," Wesley explained. "Those will be your real enemies, the real danger."

"Okay," Angel replied, stuffing the spell into the pocket of his trousers. "Alright, let's do the spell."

"Be careful," Giles stepped forward, laid a hand on Buffy's shoulder, the girl who was his daughter in every way but the physical. Emotions were choking him, turning his guts into a big, painful knot. This was one of the situations when a watcher should be a guide, a helper, detached from the slayer-duty, with a cool head, but instead Giles felt as if he was consumed by fear. "All of you," he choked out.

"We will," Buffy replied, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Promise," Dawn said, reaching out for her. "We lost mom. I need you Buffy."

"I know," her sister gave her a quick smile. "And Angel's with me. Together we're strong."

The dark-haired vampire flashed her a smile, then looked back at Willow. "Do it now," he ordered.

The witch nodded, then closed her eyes and began to chant.

Part 38

Angels do not have wings as birds do, but fly many times as fast, at the same pace that human thoughts travel. - Hildegard of Bingen

It was hot. Incredibly so, and still the heat surrounding them was nothing compared to the heat in her mind. Were the others feeling it too? A quick glance to her lover showed Buffy that Angel was fighting for concentration as well.

She remembered him and Spike talking about the pull. How were they feeling down here? How were they able to stand it?She reached out, her trembling hand finding Angel's, his large instantly closing around her tiny one, the coolness of his skin feeling like a breeze on a hot summer day. They connected, without looking at each other, and walked on.

It was a strange feeling to walk amongst demons, vampires and their masters without being seen. Like a ghost strolling amongst the living.

Their faces were contorted, some of them looking even more demonic than usual. Buffy heard Faith gasp beside her and following the gaze of her sister slayer she saw the most ugly demon ever. It was huge, at least ten feet, of a yellowish color and completely covered with slime.

"It's a hybrid."

Spike's calm voice almost startled her. "What?" she asked confused.

"I said... Nevermind. It isn't a pure-race demon," he explained. "One parent is a chaos demon."

Buffy looked at Angel, but he was still staring straight ahead, walking beside her as if he hadn't heard his grand-childe speak. "How do you know?" she asked the bleached blond vampire and then it hit her, "Wait a second. You mean chaos demon like in Dru ran off with one?"

"Yeah," Spike replied with a frown.

"Oh boy," the blond slayer couldn't help but grin when she saw Faith chuckle, "That must have been a bummer, to be dumped for something so... uh... so..."

"Just say it. It's ugly. Disgusting. But they are mean as hell - no pun intended - and she said I had gone soft. Soft, ha, my ass," he snorted. "Loony bitch."

Buffy stifled another grin, her gaze flickering to her lover again. His hand around hers had tightened, but he still hadn't so much as looked at her. He remembered, she realized, and felt her guts knot. He remembered the months – no centuries - he'd spent down here. In possession of his soul. Tortured. Lonely. Hopeless.

And he did.

Oh, yes, Angel remembered all right. All the centuries were a blur in his mind, but he remembered the moment he was sucked into the vortex, the moment he thought Buffy had betrayed him, the moment before his memory kicked in.

And they had known. They had understood his pain, his guilt, had known everything the demon had done, and used it. To make him feel everything tenfold. They had tortured him physically, yes, but that had been nothing against the torture inflicted on his mind, his soul. First they'd thought he was a demon like the others, but soon they learned what he was and used it.

After a while his soul and mind had sunk into oblivion, shutting down, no more able to deal with the images, the false hopes, the broken promises. Buffy had once asked him about hell and he had told her. Pieces. He would never be able to tell her everything. How could he when he only understood a part of it? How should he explain evil? Not an evil vampire, or an evil demon, but evil, pure, unleveled evil. Evil that enjoyed pain, mental pain, more than anything. Evil that wanted to break souls, spirits, wanted to destroy the personality of beings.

Even the demons were tortured down here, but unlike a soul they could find pleasure in pain, physical pain. Because they didn't have a soul they were immune to other ways of torture.

Angel's eyes caught a vampire hanging from the ceiling, its wrists chained, its face contorted in pain, but even then, underneath, they could find a twisted pleasure in pain. Disgusted the dark-haired vampire turned his head away, squeezing his lover's hand almost painfully.

He needed her. Had maybe never needed her as much as he needed her right this moment, by his side, his anchor, and his reality. Together you are strong. He had to remember it. Besides the mere words, there was a deeper, holier, meaning in this. He felt it although he couldn't grasp it at the moment.

He heard them joking, knew that it was just a way to distract themselves from the horrifying scenes surrounding them. It was unreal to walk in the demon dimension amongst some of the most powerful vampires that had ever roamed the earth, now damned to a life down here, and not to be seen. Angel had met some of them, talked with them, even... No, he wasn't one of them anymore. He had a soul and his place was not here.

They had tried to convince him that his soul didn't make a difference, that he was nothing but a demon - like the rest of them.

But he wasn't. He had once believed it himself, but he knew it better now. A demon wouldn't save people's lives, wouldn't have helped to make this world better. And more importantly, a person as pure and good as Buffy could never love a demon, an evil vampire, the way she loved him. It made all the difference. She was his salvation, his lover, his friend, and his soul. And she was walking beside him, their hands firmly clasped, a sign for their connection, deep, true and eternal.

Together you are strong.

"It's scary down here," she whispered beside him, tugging at his arm. She was strong, but she needed him too. It was a good feeling.

Together you are strong. There was a deeper meaning.

"I know," he whispered back.

"Yeah, I suppose you do."

He stopped, lifted one hand, and traced the frown on her forehead. "No guilt," he said firmly. "No more. We talked about this. The past is the past. This is the present and the future is waiting for us."

She looked at him long and intense, "Yes," she nodded finally, "I know."

They exchanged a quick smile then followed Spike and Faith who'd already gone further into the dimension towards the Gate of Hell.

"You know, Peaches," the bleached blond vampire said without turning, "I'm just trying to figure out how it feels to stay here for a, say, century vacation."

"Shut up," Faith hissed at him.

"Do you want to try?" Angel replied, his voice holding an unmistakable warning.

Spike held up his hands, "Hey, hey, no offense! Can't a guy ask?"

"No," Buffy told him firmly, giving him the eye. "Watch your mouth, fang boy."

"But she can get insulting! How is this? Are there different rules for her and for me?"

"Yeah," three voices replied unison.

****

"How long?" Xander asked, his hands playing nervously with the hem of his shirt.

"Not even ten minutes," Willow replied, her gaze locked on the hole in front of them, her mind far away with her lover who was tiring with each minute. She knew that Tara wouldn't be able to hold the spell much longer. She had to hold it then, but it was only a matter of time when they'd both be too exhausted. "Guys. In a few minutes I need to take over from Tara. After that, don't talk to me, okay?"

"Alright," Giles nodded, coming to stand beside her.

"Do you want to sit down?" Wesley asked.

"No," Willow flashed him a grateful smile, "But thanks for the offer. Only my mind is tired, my body is so flooded with adrenaline, I think I could stay up for another week."

The others looked at her with understanding, in Riley's face it was mixed with guilt. "I'm sorry," he said, when he joined the group again, Graham standing behind him. "I'm really very sorry for the bomb."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Giles replied, but he could still feel anger. He wasn't sure if it was really directed towards Riley or the Initiative or authorities in general, like Wesley, he had never liked the army, too much obeying without asking.

"I never wanted them to face this danger," Riley said honestly.

Something like pity welled up in the watcher and he put a hand on the commando's shoulder, "I know. But their going for the gate has nothing to do with your bomb. We didn't know if it would be necessary, but it would have been with or without the Initiative interfering."

"Yes," Riley nodded, "but I should've told you, should've acted on my conscience and not on orders. It would've given you an advantage. There was time..." he trailed off, pointing at the cell phone tucked to his belt.

"At least you realize it was wrong," Dawn came to stand beside the two men. When he looked at her, she held up a hand. "I liked you Riley," she told him, "but I'm not sure if I've forgiven you yet." Their eyes met and he realized it was for much more than just his mistake tonight. She was only fourteen years old, but so much wiser than others at her age. But then, she was the slayer's sister; it obviously made you grow up far before your time. And regarding the fact she lived in Sunnydale it was probably for the best.

"Guys," Willow said from behind. "I need to take over now. Tara will be here in a bit. If you need any magic, ask her."

"Yes, all right," Giles took her arm. "You're doing well."

"Thanks," she smiled at him, then suddenly her eyes glazed over, became unfocused, her body went rigid.

"It must be extremely exhausting," Wesley remarked looking at her.

"They're strong," Giles replied, "throughout the last year they've become incredibly powerful witches. I never expected them to develop so fast, but I suppose it's the joined energy."

"Yeah, well, something has to come out of their... relationship," Anya commented, tilting her head, "just to think... I mean, they're might be madly in love with each other, even passionate, but two women... something's missing. Not that I mind, don't get me wrong, but a woman's... uh... equipment isn't," she stopped seeing the others staring at her as if she'd turned into a frog, "What?"

"Honey..." Xander firmly took her arm to pull her to his side.

"I'm just pointing out the facts. Women aren't built like men under their waistline. Something's missing." What was the matter with them, she wondered.

"Thank you, Anya, but we are all," Giles glanced at Dawn, and then amended, "almost all adults," giving her a pointed look.

Dawn made a dismissive gesture, "Don't hold back for my sake. I've got sex Ed in school. I know what a man looks like."

The watcher turned beet red and was glad it was only dimly lit around him, "Er, yes, that's... uh... good to know."

"Yeah," the slayer's sister smiled at him brightly.

"Uh-oh," Kate's gasp had them all turning around and their eyes widened when they saw that another Initiative squad was coming towards them, lead by an older, important looking man, whose face was firmly set.

"Agent Finn," he bellowed, approaching the group and his troupes. "What are you doing here?"

"Carrying out your orders, sir," Riley replied, saluting at his superior.

"Who are these civilians?" he asked, his eyes swaying haughtily over the group.

"This," Riley looked at Giles, "is Mr. Rupert Giles, he is the slayer's watcher."

"I see," the man replied, his eyes telling clearly that he wasn't the least impressed and he didn't even bother to greet the man in front of him. "And why are you with them? They might be connected to the slayer, but they are mere civilians nevertheless."

"They fight with the slayer, sir. They have experience-"

"Experience," the man shouted, his eyes hard and cold as stones, "Agent Finn, have you lost your mind?"

Riley felt heat creeping up his neck and face. "Sir?" he asked, confused.

"How are they fighting hostiles?," the man asked, "With their bare hands?" He laughed, but it was as cold as his eyes. Those narrowed now, "Get them away from here. We're taking over."

"With respect, sir, but the two slayers just entered the demon's dimension, they're involved already," Riley tried to reason with his superior, who as Giles guessed, had to be General Brookridge.

"They entered the demon's dimension?" the General chuckled as if his agent had just made the best joke of the century. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Sir?"

"Nobody is able to enter the Demon's Dimension. This is just-," he shook his head. He had never liked Riley Finn, not the way General Markham did. Agent Finn too often forgot about rules, forgot that the Initiative was what should be important to him - first and foremost. "Never mind. We're clearing the place. For another 344."

"WHAT?" Riley shouted, horror in his and Graham's eyes, while the others just stared confused at the General.

"A what?" Dawn asked her eyes resting quizzically on the commando.

Riley discussed his fate only for a moment. He liked being a soldier, he liked working for the good cause, but he had done this before and would live with it again, he knew he could. Even without Buffy. "They're going to place another bomb," he said, his voice firm and his eyes looking at his General coolly.

"Agent Finn," the General hissed.

"They need to know," Riley replied, straightening his spine. "And I refuse to let anyone die for what you call the good cause."

"Arrest him," he bellowed to his guards.

"Nobody moves," Gunn and his friends were suddenly surrounding the General and his soldiers, their weapons directed at them. "And nobody places a bomb. Our friends are down there, and we're going to wait until they're back."

"You are making a big mistake. We are talking about the fate of the world here," General Brookridge argued, "It's the life of thousands against your friends. You have-"

"We don't have to do anything," Giles' voice was as sharp as a whip, his eyes as cold as the General's. "We will not sacrifice our friends for your stupid ideas. You cannot close the hellmouth by placing a bomb. Do you understand?"

"If you say so," the General replied, his eyes narrowed. But there was a smile playing around his lips. A smile that could have made deserts freeze over.

Go to Part 39