*********FALLEN ANGELS*********

Part 10               A Lesson Learned

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The hands were rough as they pushed her down, her hands and knees
scraping across the hard cement.  This couldn't be happening to her,
not now, not after all she had been through for the past two weeks.
 

"Please no," she sobbed, struggling to push herself off the ground.  A
fist connected with the back of her head, forcing it down, her forehead
grazing the hard cement. She cried out at the pain that went through
her.
 

"Begging isn't going to help you now, you stuck up little bitch," it was
the boy from her French class. Since Angelus' threat she had done her
best not to talk to anyone apart from her few friends.  Now, as the
drunken and pissed off youth leaned over her and tangled his fist in her
long red hair, she thought that maybe that  hadn't been such a great
idea.  He'd found her walking through the park. She had just left
Buffy to the slaying so she could catch a few hours sleep before Spike
collected her at nine o'clock ~ her nightly sessions of entertaining
Angelus were exhausting and she found herself falling asleep during
classes more and more lately.  She could smell the alcohol on his
breath as he accused her of being a snob, a little rich girl who was too
busy spending daddy's money on fancy clothes and jewellery who thought
herself too good to talk to the commoners.  She had tried to walk
away, but he'd stood his ground, grabbing hold of her arms and screaming
abuse at her before throwing her down to the ground.  "You're no
better than the stupid sluts you ignore day after day, in fact you're
nothing more than a dirty whore..."
 

His hands ripped at the fine silk chiffon shirt that she had worn to
school, her short skirt was being hiked up and all Willow could do was
cry.  She couldn't bare it, not after everything that happened.  So
she closed her eyes and shut down her mind, her body refusing to respond
to the hands that tore at her clothes.  Suddenly a loud snapping sound
broke through her barriers and she was left alone.  Slowly she raised
her grazed forehead from the pavement and glanced back at her would be
attacker.  He was gone and Spike stood there, glowering at her.
Dropping her gaze to his feet she saw the lifeless body of the boy.
 

"Oh god," she cried out scrambling back and covering her face with her
hands.  Spike had snapped his neck.  He stepped forward, still
glaring at her and she burst into a flood of tears.
 

"Oh bloody hell...women!" he exclaimed, leaning forward and gathering
her up into his arms.  Holding her close he made his way back to the
mansion.  By the time he walked through the front doors she had
stopped crying but was still clinging to him, her face buried in the
crook of his neck.  Spike glanced about the main foyer of the mansion
and grunted. There were a few minions staring at the odd spectacle he
made as he carried his sire's consort.  Angrily he turned to them.
"What the hell are you looking at?"
 

The minions bowed their heads and continued with their business.
Their whispers followed him up the stairs.
 

"Angelus," he called out as he reached the top of the stairs and walked
into the master lounge area.  Angelus strolled out from the library,
casually glancing up at his childe, frowning the sight of him cradling
Willow.
 

"What happened?" asked Angelus as Spike set her down before him. His
hand cupped her chin, tilting her head back so he could get a clear view
of the graze on her head. His eyes quickly taking in the similar marks
on her knees and hands, and the torn shirt.  He stepped in closer to
her, searching her eyes.  His voice was soft as he asked, "Willow,
what happened?"
 

"Mitchell," Willow shuddered at the thought of what he could have done
had Spike not shown up.  Tears began to well in her eyes and she
rubbed furiously at them.  "He...I'd left Buffy and was walking
through the park..."  She glanced up at Angelus, frightened that he
might misconstrue the situation.  "He grabbed me and...I couldn't stop
him, he threw me down..."
 

"Oh come on love, he was standing in front of you for at least five
minutes, you could have easily knead him in the balls..." snorted Spike
in disgust, smirking at her tears.
 

"What?" growled Angelus glaring at his smirking childe.  He took a
step forward and slapped him with enough force to wipe the smirk off his
face.  "You were there?"
 

Spike slowly bought his head back up to look at his sire and clenched
his jaw, his eyes hardening. "I followed her from when she left the
slayer," he affirmed, his body tensing as he read the fury on his sire's
face.
 

"And you did nothing...just let her get hurt?" Angelus asked closing the
distance between them.
 

"I thought she'd have picked up enough from the slayer to defend
herself.  The kid was as pissed as a fart ~ a kitten could've taken
him down," Spike insisted.  Angelus smiled and started to turn away.
Spike let his smirk return and made the mistake of turning to crow over
Willow.  Angelus' fist collided with one of his sharp cheekbones,
catching him off guard and sending him crashing back into the empty
fireplace, his temple catching on the metal grate with a bone-crunching
crack.
 

Willow watched in horror as Spike pushed himself up onto his hands and
knees, shaking his head trying to clear his blurred vision as Angelus
stormed toward him.
 

"No, please," she begged for the second time that night, stepping in
front of Angelus her hands reaching up to rest against his chest, her
eyes filling with tears of panic and fear.  "It wasn't his fault, he
didn't do anything wrong."
 

Angelus' hand shot out and grasped her about the neck, pulling her up
off her feet before pushing her off balance and letting her crash down
onto her bloodied knees.  His hand kept a crushing pressure on her
neck causing the necklace to bite into her flesh and golden eyes stared
coldly down at her.
 

"This has nothing to do with you," he snarled releasing his death grip
and pushing her backwards.  Turning his gaze to Spike, who was
struggling to stand, he addressed her.  "Go have a bath and get
cleaned up...I'll deal with you later."
 

Willow shook in fear at those words.  She didn't want to be dealt
with.  She glanced over at Spike who had managed to stand, somewhat
shakily.  Angelus' fist moved in a blur, striking out at his childe,
sending him sprawling back down.  Almost casually he moved over his
fallen form, glancing down as Spike once more tried to rise up onto his
hands and knees.  With a swift kick to the ribs Angelus pushed him
back down.
 

"You know better than that, my boy," he snarled, his head swinging to
look at Willow who was still held to her spot in blind terror.  "Go,
now!"
 

Scrambling to her feet she ran to the door that led to her rooms and
shut herself away from the scene playing out in the master lounge room.
Even through the heavy door she could hear Angelus asking Spike
questions, the sound of his fist slamming into him.  Shaking she
walked away from the door and into the bathroom, too scared of the
repercussions of disobeying Angelus.  Unfortunately even the sound of
the bath running did nothing to drown out the sounds coming from the
lounge room.
 

"I'm not her bloody keeper," yelled Spike in frustration, his voice
tainted with a hint of pain.
 

"You are exactly what I tell you to be," was Angelus' curt reply.
 

After that the voices softened, Angelus' constant low murmur soothed her
as she climbed up into the bath full of hot scented water.  She sat in
the water listening to Angelus' low rumble, assuming that the fighting
had stopped, soon his voice was accompanied by soft grunts and
groans.  Sounds she had heard before, from Angelus' bedroom when they
were together.  But as she continued to listen, concentrating on those
sounds she realised they were different. There was no pleasure in these
sounds. They were tinged with pain, almost like someone was trying to
hold back screams.  Pulling her legs up to her chest she wrapped her
arms about them as she continued to listen.  Jumping as a crash
sounded from the lounge room and Spike fought to contain a scream, it
left him as a half strangled cry of pain.
 

"Oh no, please no," she whispered to herself, bringing her hands up to
cover her ears. Unfortunately she could still clearly hear the sounds of
Spike's screams, growing louder and more agonized.  By the time they
stopped the bath water was cold and Willow was still sitting in it, her
hands over her ears, eyes screwed tightly shut. That's how Angelus found
her some ten minutes later.  He reached over and turned on the hot
water, topping up the bath and warming it.  Stripping off he joined
her, dragging her hands away from her ears.
 

"Open your eyes, Willow," he demanded.  She did so, her eyes falling
on his face as he turned her hands over in his, exposing the grazes.
"Did he hurt you?"
 

"No, not really...Spike," Willow began to say only to have Angelus cut
her off.
 

"No talk of Spike," he stated calmly, his thumbs running over the
grazes, causing her to gasp in pain and look down.  Her eyes widened
as she took in his hands, long fingers covered in blood, torn flesh and
bruised knuckles.  The water took on a pink tinge as it washed over
their hands.  "Let's get you cleaned up...these," his thumbs brushed
across her palms.  "Should be fine."
 

Willow watched in confused silence as he picked up the sponge and began
to bathe her, his fingers and hands caressing her body, soothing the
aches and pains.  Carefully he cleaned the dirt and grit from the
scrapes on her knees and hands, his fingers examined the back of her
head where she'd been hit.  Finally he washed her hair, dried her off
and dressed her in a soft satin negligee.  Picking her up he carried
her to the bed and laid her down, pulling the covers up and tucking her
in like a child.
 

"I'm going out for a few hours.  Get some sleep," he murmured, turning
off the lights and leaving her to the darkness of the room.
Eventually she fell into a restless sleep, not waking until hours later,
her body tangled in her sheets.
 

Frustrated she tore herself away from the sheet, getting out of the bed
and walking into the bathroom planning to get a glass of water.  She
stopped as she spotted Angelus' door open, the huge bed the only thing
visible in the darkness, illuminated by a few candles set on the bedside
table, casting flickering shadows over the single figure lying in the
bed.  Frowning Willow inched forward and paused at the door, peering
into the murky darkness. She could see nothing except for the bed and
Spike lying on his stomach arms outstretched, a sheet resting low on
hips leaving his back exposed.
 

As Willow moved into the room she realised there was a purpose to this.
His back was nothing more than torn shreds of flesh, bloodied and
ripped.  Willow felt her stomach drop.  Angelus had beaten him for
something that wasn't even his fault.  Slowly she reached out across
the bed, her fingers brushing lightly across his bruised cheek, causing
him to flinch and half open his eyes.  She swallowed back a lump as
his bloodshot eyes focused on her.  Crouching down she continued to
stroke his face, her eyes filling with tears, her bottom lip trembling.
 

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, knowing that she was the cause of his
beating.  For a moment he stared unblinkingly and then clenched his
jaw.
 

"Fuck off," he growled and hissed as he lifted his head to turn away
from her fingers.  Willow hiccupped as a tear escaped, falling down
her cheek, and she pulled her hand back, cradling it to her chest.  A
soft rumble of laughter from the dark corner of the room startled her,
causing her to step back from the bed.
 

Angelus walked calmly toward her from the corner, his hand outstretched,
catching hers and leading her back to her own room.  Gathering her in
his arms he laid them down on the bed, pulling the covers up.  Willow
trembled. Whether she was cold or scared or shocked, she didn't know.
She didn't know anything anymore.  Angelus gently ran his fingers
through her hair, pushing it back off her face.  He smiled down at her
as he continued to play with her hair.
 

"Spike had a point tonight, Willow," he spoke quietly, his fingers
tracing the contours of her face.  "You should be able to defend
yourself, we won't always be there and you certainly can't rely on
Buffy..."
 

Willow winced at the use of that name. He rarely spoke of any of her
friends ~ they didn't interest him.  Still he continued to stroke her
face and talk.
 

"You'll train with Spike for an hour every morning before school," he
paused and smirked, a soft burst of laughter leaving him.  "You can
start in a few days..."
 

Willow couldn't help it, the tears started to fall, hot and
desperate.  A few days because he was too badly beaten to probably
even get out of bed for the next few days.  As the tears continued to
fall she shook her head, not looking at Angelus.
 

"I can't," she hiccupped.  Angelus laughed, his tongue tracing the
graze on her forehead.
 

"Yes you can and you will," he stated quietly, as his lips pressed
against the graze.  Still Willow continued to shake her head, her body
trembling uncontrollably as the past few weeks confusion and pain caught
up with her.
 

"No, I can't do this anymore," she cried, gasping as his arms pulled her
in close to him.  "I just can't...Buffy's been asking so many
questions and...and it's only going to be a matter of time before
there's some huge crisis and they'll need me..."
 

Angelus smiled as she continued to list the problems that their
arrangement brought her, his hands caressing her back and neck.
 

"I can't do it anymore," Willow hiccupped again, closing her eyes so she
wouldn't have to look at him.  "I don't know what you expect from me
and I'm so tired.  So very tired. I go to school, I lie to my friends,
I push them away because I don't want them to get hurt..."
 

"Shhh, Willow," hushed Angelus, rocking her in his arms.  He leaned
down and dragged the tip of his tongue along her cheek, catching her
tears, and kissed her closed eyes.  "You will continue to do
it...because if you don't I shall lock you in these rooms and bring each
of your friends in to kill, leaving their rotting corpses here to keep
you company."
 

Willow shuddered in his arms, the tears falling faster as she knew that
he was right.  She couldn't make everything stop just by saying she
didn't want to do it anymore. It had gone beyond that. There was no
turning back now. No turning back ever.
 

"You know who will be first? Hmm?" he looked down at the tiny redhead
crying in his arms and smiled.  "Xander. Willow, did you ever play
this little piggy?  Well I shall play little piggy with his nails
first, pulling off one for each pig, then I'll rip off his fingers and
toes.  What do you think?  I could string that out for days, one
foot or hand each day..."
 

"No," whispered Willow, glancing up at his cold malicious eyes.
"Please...don't.  I didn't mean...I'm just so...tired."
 

"Shhh, I know.  That's why you should sleep now," Angelus whispered,
kissing her forehead, his fingers once more stroking her hair.  "Close
your eyes and I'll tell you a fairytale about a redheaded princess and
her dark prince."
 

Willow closed her eyes and listened to his macabre tale of pain and
death for all her friends, details of what he would do, what he wanted
to do the minute she reneged on their agreement. She knew that he meant
every word that he said. She had no choice but to continue being his
consort. She had never really had a choice. He had seen to that. Sighing
in defeat, she drifted off into a restless sleep, his hands still
caressing her face gently.
 

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