***

Angel pushed himself away from the desk, from Willow's laptop and turned his back, staring blindly at the brick wall.  The entries he had read could have been taken from his own memory; clear vivid descriptions of every violent and sadistic sin he had performed as Angelus, but what disturbed him the most about the entries was Willow's slow descent into a nightmarish existence.

Her first few entries were clear and coherent, analysing the dreams, supplying a reason for them ~ her subconscious purging itself of the stress of graduation and the loss of her friend, of Angel.  But as the days passed the dreams continued, terrifying and violent, still she tried to rationalise them...until she began waking up in pain, her body covered in marks. Terrified she had attempted to talk to Buffy but the conversation quickly turned to the slayers pain over the loss of Angel.  So Willow turned to the only person she thought could supply an answer, Giles.  However Willow being Willow she had ummed and erred her way and gave him no insight to the nightmares she was experiencing, so Giles had muttered and mumbled about various reasons for dreaming memories.  She hadn't pushed him for answers, somehow she blamed herself, but without answers she went in search of her own.

What startled Angel the most was that Willow had simply taken it on herself.  As the days progressed she isolated herself even more, the dreams were taking a toll on her, working their way into her waking hours and leaving her body in constant agony, weakening her, making her sick.  Working methodically, her intelligence quickly led her to the curse, it was the only thing that connected her to Angelus, but that knowledge gave her no answers or solutions or reasons why.  Eventually weak and desperate to end her nightmarish existence she sought those who could help her, those whose magic she had used.  Turning her back on her friends and life in Sunnydale she went to New York, chasing every lead she had concerning descendants of the Romany gypsies.  Most of them had turned out to be nothing more than
charlatans claiming to be something they weren't to increase their business in tarot card readings, or mystical shops.  After a few days in New York, her hope and her strength faded and was reflected not only by the words of her journal but the way they were written, no longer descriptive, they were merely quick scattered notes lacking coherency.  By her second day in New York she discovered a temporary solution to the dreams...opium.  It dulled her senses, eased the agony of both body and soul, allowed her to sleep...it also led her into a world consumed with darkness, pain, fear and addiction.

From New York she wandered, both in mind and body.  She travelled north and then west, searching desperately for anyone who could help her.  Time and time again she sought out people who were of no assistance.  Until she reached Chicago.  There she met with an elder woman, old and wrinkled, speaking in a language Willow didn't understand.  But she did understand the old woman's screams of terror and harsh words, a crooked and blackened finger shoved in her face and the shaking of her head before she left Willow alone with the translator.  No reasons were forthcoming, she was simply told that they could not help her, that no one could and she would have to live with the consequences of her transgression against the Romany.  It was then that Willow's world had finally collapsed, slipping completely into the darkness of hopelessness that she had so valiantly fought for months.

Angel turned back to the computer, closing the journal and shutting the small machine down.  The last entry had been empty, devoid of hope and desperate to end her nightmarish existence. Nothing more than a suicide note in typical Willow style, terrified of the consequences of her actions and hoping that her friends would forgive her.  He wondered how she managed to get to LA and why exactly she was there.  He doubted that she was actively seeking him out, during the whole journal the only mention of his name was his part in the dreams ~ teasing and taunting.  It certainly explained her attitude toward him that first night he had spoken to her, she probably thought she was dreaming.

As the screened blacked out and the power turned off he pulled down the screen, his fingers caressing the surface for a moment before he stood up and made his way downstairs.  His thoughts ran wild on that slow descent.  There were more questions than answers, nothing was solid, nothing made sense.  There had to be some way of helping her.  He paused for a moment and sat down on one of the steps, from his vantage point he could see Willow sound asleep in his bed.  Closing his eyes briefly he listened, clearly hearing her rattling lungs and heartbeat accompanied by Doyle's and his soft snoring. There was nothing else...his demon was silent.  Since he had left Sunnydale the demon had been restless, screaming and manipulating, until a week before he found Willow.  Then there had been no struggle for control,
no irate screams or demands.  But in Las Vegas his demon had encouraged and revelled in the violence.  Groaning his eyes shot open and once more fixed on the redhead in his bed.  Something had gone seriously wrong.

Exhausted, confused and disgusted he didn't want to think about it anymore right now.  Silently he got to his feet and walked the last few steps into the apartment.  His attention was immediately captured by the couch, or more precisely by the sight of Spike and Doyle wrapped in each others arms sound asleep.  Frowning he considered them for a moment, when he'd left Spike had claimed the couch telling the little Irishman to sod off.  Shaking his head he turned away, too tired to consider their comfort at the moment and he didn't really want to try waking either of them, so he let them sleep.  Even before he reached the bed he could tell that Willow's temperature was up again.  Her skin was flushed and damp, strands of hair clinging to her face.  It was to be expected, her body was run down and fighting infections,
she needed time and time was one thing Angel had.  Sighing he quickly discarded his clothes to pull on a pair of boxers and crawled in next to her.  Gathering her up in his arms, her warm body against his cool one to ease the slight fever, Angel listened to her steady heartbeat and fell asleep.

***

"Mmm...Cordelia..." Doyle's voice woke Angel and he shifted slightly to glance first at the sleeping redhead still held firmly in his arms and then to the couch.  He frowned.  They were wrapped tightly about each other, probably more to keep from falling off the couch than anything else, and joined at the lips.  Suddenly Spike's eyes shot open and he shoved the little Irishman away with enough force to send them both hurtling to the ground.

"Oh bloody hell...I'll told you to sod off you flaming git," stated Spike springing up and pacing, furiously wiping at his mouth and spitting.  Doyle sat up and rubbed at his eyes, turning to face the furious vampire.

"Well I erg...AAAAHHHHHH," he started to scream, thrashing on the floor, making Spike jump back in shock.  Angel quickly moved off the bed and was by his side.

"Hey, he kissed me...I didn't think I was that dangerous," Spike half smirked, watching as Doyle stilled.

"You okay?  What did you see?"  Angel asked urgently.

"Mistelle demon...tonight at some club...The Hellfire..." spoke Doyle disorientated and clutching his head.  Spike moved forward.

"The Hellfire, that's my sort of club..." he spoke eagerly, earning a withering stare from Angel.  He shrugged.  "If you're into the leather and violence scene..." he looked down at himself, spread his arms out wide and grinned.  "Which I am! When do we go?"

"You are not going anywhere but back to Sunnydale," stated Angel helping Doyle back up to the couch.  Spike pouted and shrugged.

"Fine, send me back to Sunnyhell," he rubbed his hands together and grinned.  "At least I have some heartbreaking news to deliver...their poor little witch is shacked up with..."

He didn't have the chance to finish the sentence, Angel grabbed him and pinned him to the floor, kneeling on his neck.  "I am so sick of doing this to you, Spike.  Guess your ability to bite isn't the only thing that chip is affecting.  Now listen carefully, I'm only going to say this once.  You haven't seen Willow, you haven't spoken to her.  If anyone asks you were helping me with a case.  Do you understand?"

"Sod off," Spike muttered.  His head was lifted up and slammed into the floor.

"Wrong answer.  Doyle, get me a stake..."

"I've not seen the little witch," declared Spike, clenching his jaw in frustration.  Silently cursing his sire he thought about it. He may not be able to say anything about the witch but he could say anything he liked about the 'case', maybe involving Angel in some sort of humiliating position involving leather cuffs and a butt plug...yeah, he could say anything he liked about the case.  Angel released him and stood up.

"Good," Angel stated turning his attention to Doyle.  "Go home, do whatever you need and meet me back here at sunset."

"Whoa, hang on a minute.  What's happening?  Shouldn't you send the little girl back with Spike?" Doyle asked placing a restraining hand on Angel's bare arm.  "She'd be better off with her friends."

"No, she needs to stay here," Angel stated turning to glance at the still sleeping redhead.  "I'll explain it all later, right now she needs to rest.  Did she eat much while I was in Vegas?"

Doyle frowned and shook his head.  Spike flopped back down on the couch, crossing his hands behind his head.

"Nah, didn't eat a thing.  Well actually she ate, then she threw it up.  Humans have such disgusting habits.  Do you want to heat me a mug then?  Come on, I'm a bloody guest after all," Spike demanded and then glanced up at Angel, frowning at the older vampires staking stare.  Shrugging he got up and wandered toward the kitchen.  "Then again I can get it myself."

"No, she didn't keep anything down, barely slept..." Doyle paused and looked at the soundly sleeping girl.  "So what's going on?"

"I can't really explain it.  At the moment I just need her to get well, then we'll sort out what's going on.  I'll let her sleep for the time being, she could use it," stated Angel, running his fingers through his hair and glancing about his apartment.  He frowned.  "Why does my apartment look like a bomb has hit it?"

Spike started singing in the kitchen, some tune neither of them knew.  Angel closed his eyes and muttered his wayward childe's name.

***

"Are you sure it's tonight?" Angel asked, standing at the top of the stairs and looking at Doyle.  Spike had left, revving the Citroen, crashing the gears and had the radio blaring.  Willow was still asleep downstairs, she hadn't woken all afternoon and Angel was content to let her sleep.  But now, as they were getting ready for the Hellfire Club, he hesitated and stared at the scrap of paper Doyle held in his hand.

"Yes, tonight.  I fear the pain too much to get these things wrong," he stated.

"What is your problem?" asked Cordelia.  Angel glanced up at her and then back at the steps.  "Oh please.  You're leaving the apartment, not the country, she'll be fine."

"What if she wakes up while I'm gone?"

"She'll be relieved that you aren't following her around like some lost puppy and will probably have a long hot bath," Cordelia stormed over, took the piece of paper from Doyle's hand and shoved it with force into Angel's chest.  "Now go."  Still Angel hesitated.  Rolling her eyes and throwing her hands up in the air Cordelia turned away from him and headed down the stairs to his apartment.  "Fine I'll stay...if you are this worried about her waking up alone why don't you get her something cute and cuddly...with fangs to remind her of you...not that you can get many things with fangs that are cute and cuddly and who would really wanted to be reminded of a vampire?"

Angel and Doyle stood at the top of the stairs listening as Cordelia continued her monologue with each step she took toward the apartment.

"She's got a point, man," Doyle shrugged at Angel.  "I mean you can't stay here forever and there are times when she'll be here by herself..."

"Not now Doyle, let's go," said Angel turning on his heel.  Some three hours later Doyle returned to the office, slightly intoxicated, causing Cordelia to look up from her computer screen.  He would have been back an hour ago, but an extremely relieved Hellfire owner had wanted to thank him with a few complimentary drinks and he couldn't be rude.

"Where's Angel?" she asked.

"Don't know," shrugged Doyle walking over to her desk.  "He just said he had something to do."

"Well did he say when he'd be back?" Cordelia asked.

"Umm...not exactly..."

"Did he say what he was going to do?"

"Umm...not exactly..."

"Well I'm not staying you can take over Willow sitting," she picked up her bag and turned about when the door to the office opened.  She spun around with her 'welcome we'll help you and you can pay us' smile.  It soon turned into a 'what the...' look as Angel walked through the door, a bundle of white and grey fur held in his arms.  White and grey fur, with sharp fangs that was happily trying to chew through one of his fingers.  "Angel...what is that?"

"It's a puppy," Angel said, frowning as he pulled his finger away from the sharp teeth, only to have a paw bat at his hand.  "For Willow."

Cordelia stared dumbfounded for a moment at the brooding vampire happily holding onto the puppy in his arms before collapsing into her chair.

"What?"

"You said to get her something cute and cuddly..."

"Angel, that's a puppy - I said something cute and cuddly - not a puppy!"

"It is cute and cuddly," Angel looked down at the puppy, which chose that moment to latch onto his finger again.  "Ow, cut that out...what's wrong with a puppy?"

"Well, ok.  Teddy bear, that's cute and cuddly. Puppy, that's 'I want to take you for a test drive as the prospective mother of my children', although I guess that's not a problem for you."

"Oh...so I should have gone for a teddy bear?"

"Teddy bear would be less hassle than a...Siberian Husky?" asked Doyle, not exactly sure of the breed of dog Angel had picked up.

"Alaskan Malamute..." Angel corrected as the puppy bit down hard on his finger and squirmed in his arms.  Hissing he bent over and put it down on the ground.  The bundle of fur sat down and looked up at the towering vampire and growled before standing up and giving two quick 'how dare you put me down...ruin my fun' barks and turned away to explore the office.  Three sets of eyes followed the little puppy's ramblings.

"It's got big feet," offered Doyle, watching as the puppy stumbled about.

"If it makes a mess, I'm not cleaning it up," Cordelia stated turning to glare at Angel.  "You haven't thought at all about this.  It's a puppy, Angel. Do you know what that involves?  Exercise, special food and toilet training...I can't believe you got a puppy."

"Actually don't Alaskan Malamutes grow really big?  Like the size of an elephant or something?  Man, that's going to make for an interesting inside dog," Doyle stated turning to face Angel, who was looking at his two employees shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"I didn't actually think of that," Angel shrugged.  "But it will help Willow, give her a distraction, she can take him out for walks during the day when she gets better, until then I can take him down the tunnels."

"Oh yeah, that'll be fun for a puppy, stuck in gloomy old tunnels with a gloomy old vampire..." Cordelia stated glancing about the office and frowning.  "Where'd it go?  If it's making a mess I am so not cleaning it up."

"Me either," Doyle stated raising his hands and backing away from both of them.  Angel shook his head.

"It's a puppy, how much trouble can it be?"  Angel glanced around the office and frowned.  "Okay...where is it?"

"How much trouble?  Haven't you ever heard that saying 'never work with animals or kids'? There's a reason for that," Cordelia stated looking under her desk and whistling.  "This is just great you get a puppy and lose it five seconds later..."

A thud and soft whimper from the bottom of the stairs drew their attention, with all three rushing over in time to see the puppies rear end and tail happily wagging away into Angel's apartment.
 

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