Part 5

Angel stood on a ledge inside the mansion, watching the rain fall. Something in him felt very, very tired. Willow's face, the feeling of her body in his arms tormented him, both out of his desire for her, and guilt. Buffy's body was barely cold in the ground, and here he was, seducing her best friend. Not to mention that Willow was an infant compared to him...
Or at least, she used to be. There was something very old in her face now, somrthing that scared him. Willow had always had such an innocent appeal, a fresh optimism he'd felt drawn to in the three years he'd known her. It was missing now, replaced with millenia. What they had seen that night had aged her, scarred her. Even Oz had said it, at the hospital, that he wondered if Willow would ever be able to come back from where that thing had taken her. . .
He sighed, feeling caged and restless. His inner emotions were drawing him in too many directions: part of him wanted to distance himself from Willow out of respect to Buffy, partof him wanted to find comfort in her arms, because she ws the only other living human being who really understood what had happened that night
That night... Hundreds of years in Hell, eighty years of living with a tortured soul, hadn't compared to what they had fought that night.
Angel bristled and growled. Tiny pains of uneasiness were snaking through his abdomen. Something was wrong. He stared back out into the wet night and wondered what Willow was doing. . .
***
Suddenly it was really hard for Willow to think.
She'd been planning what she was going to say to Angel, only now she wasn't even sure why she wanted to talk to him. Her rainsoaked skin ached, her whole body ached and for a minute she thought she might be sick on the side of the road. The world was suddenly very spinny, and she thought for an insane moment that it had begun to rain frogs. She saw Angel's house a few feet ahead and stumbled towards it. Rivers rushed in her ears as she collapsed, muscles cramping, on his front steps.
***
<That's it> Angel thought as he pulled his leather jacket on <There's something wrong. I'm going over to her house.> . He opened the door and found a very unconcious Willow sprawled on the front stoop.
***
Giles's office

A very uneasy British Librarian opened yet another book of Latin text. He read quickly, the dead language as familiar to him as English, but taking his time to decifer any hidden messages in the phrophoscies. He was well into the fourth one when his blood ran cold.
He picked up the phone and punched in Angel's number.
***
The Mansion
Angel quickly draped his coat over Willow's shivering body. She gave no response, save to moan softly at his touch. He felt her skin-- it was wildly hot. He could hear her pulse beating in his ears, replacing his silent one. It was sporatic and fast and it worried him sick. He scooped her up easily and carried her into the house.
The phone was shrilling annoyingly. He gently set Willow down on the sofa, then snatched the reciver angrily.
"What?" he half-yelled.
"Angel?"
"Giles? I need your-- the what prophecy? Yes I've heard of it! Are you sure? She'd already here... Giles, if you're right, then you'd better get over here now. It's already started."
***
Giles burst in without bothering to knock. He had a stack full of books under his arm, which he shoved at Angel in his rush to examine Willow.
"Christ in Heaven, you were right." the vampire said, opening one of them.
"I can't believe it,"Giles said, putting his hand on Willow's burning forehead. "I can't believe she's actually. . ."
"The Eternal Child," Angel said in amazement. "The Light in the Darkness. The Chosen Chosen One. Gaia's Maiden. The Immortal Power."
"I never expected in my career, in my life, to know her, to find her. Bloody hell, man, do you understand the implications of this?"
Angel slammed the book shut. "I understand that she's going to be alright. And that's all that matters to me."
***
"Willow."
She opened her eyes hazily.
"Drink this," Angel said, putting something to her lips. She took a baby sniff. It smelled terrible, like. . .
"Mandrake?" she mumbled...<Why the hell is he giving me Nature's Viagra?!>
"Uh, no, actually, it's um," she could hear him fumbling with something. "Robitussin?" he said, as if unsure of the pronounciation. "Cherry-Flavored?" he offered.
"Ugh... gross." she said, searching for a cooler spot on her pillow. Why was her pillow so goddamn hot anyway?
Angel chuckled, remembering the things his mother had tried to force on him and his brothers and sisters when they were sick-- this stuff was cake compared to. . .ugh. Made him quesy just to remember it.
"Take it, Willow. I need you healthy."
Something in his voice made her turn towards him. She drank it back quickly, then grimaced and smacked her lips distastfully. The room began to spin from her new-found vertical position, and she lay back weakly.
"Good girl," Angel whispered. He waited until she was all the way asleep before he leaned in and kissed her temple. . .
 

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