Rebuilding Dreams
Jessica@Brumley.com



Part 2

As it is likely costing Kane a fortune to support his abduction of Willow, it is likewise costing me thousands to keep up with them. Of course, logic would dictate that it wasn't exactly an 'abduction' (for how could it be termed so if she was a willing party in her own kidnapping?) but I've never been one to listen to the annoying side of myself controlled by logic. Logic makes life somewhat boring, and when you live forever boring is the second thing, next to being alone, that one should attempt to avoid at all costs. As such, my levelheaded side protests the frivolous amounts of cash I have been throwing around in an attempt to keep up with Kane and Willow. The, by far, stronger side of my being, the side in which emotions rule without question, screams at me to spare no resource, no cost, to regain what I have lost.

It's not just a 'man thing' either. I swear it isn't. I'm not one of those male chauvinist pigs out to regain that prize trophy I once had that another has stolen. It's about love. Yes, it is possible for men to admit to love. Some of the typical male reservation that has been bred into this generation by stigmas has passed me by, as I am from a time when men were required to be manly, yet in firm possession of both kindness and respect for women. And to respect something, anything, you must first understand it. And I have come to understand women very well. I understand that a woman wants to be pampered and coddled on a superficial level but also wants to be revered for who she is on the inside. More importantly, I have found that beauty lies within. Cliché but true. In women such as Willow, the beauty inside lends a natural glow and appeal to the physical beauty they are already in possession of. I love Willow for her intelligence and wit. I love that quick smile of hers that always hovers on the edge of her mouth, her little talkative babble that always rises to the surface when she becomes excited or nervous, and I especially love the way she used to look at me when she though I was unaware.

But I was always aware. I was aware of her every movement, her every breath, her every emotion. I loved watching the way she would push back the strands of hair that would fall into her face as she was bent over a book or paper. She was the best thing that ever happened to me and, for a time, I couldn't have been happier to have her around. She was everything to me: confidant, savior, friend. And she could have been so much more if I had just let her. On some deep instinctive level I was truly in love with her. I would sit in her room while she slept, just to watch her face for hours on end. Her face was so perfect. Sleep revealed none of the child-like innocence I always expected. No one who had seen the things Willow had seen could remain innocent. Although there was no innocence, there was no disillusionment. She accepted things as they were and strove to make them better with a an air of determination that I always admired in her.

I could always rely on her sense and knowledge on any subject. I sometimes found myself talking to her even when she wasn't around as if her essence was with me always, like a lingering scent I can not escape.

I had it all and I let it go….into the arms of Kane.

"…you pay me to investigate for you, not waste my time trying to keep your concentration, so for the last time, pay attention!"

Damn! I was zoning out again. I've done that so often in the past two months it's becoming absurd. I give my head a quick shake and look at the screen where a very irate investigator is giving me a pointed gaze that says "shape up mister, and fast!".

Technology is a wonderful thing. I especially like this new videophone that has come about. I like looking at the people I am talking to. To me, body language is a much more effective form of communication than the spoken word. Call me old-fashioned but it's true, you just need to learn how to read the nuances of the body. In this case, I see before me a man in his mid-forties glaring good-naturedly at me with an air of a scolding parent. Trevor Kistler is one of the few non-supernatural people outside of the Sunnydale circle I have taken into confidence about my vampire nature.

Although I have 200 years on him, he persists in acting as if I am a reckless young adult severely in need of guidance and discipline. Which, when it comes to finding Willow, I do, but that's entirely beside the point. It's nice to be taken care of by someone, no matter how oblique the relationship. Ironically, the need for someone to turn to for guidance and temporary relief of your burdens becomes stronger as you grow older.

We carry our own burdens in life, those we pass on the way can help for a stretch, but in the end it is every man with his own bag o' problems

Not to mention that it's hard to trust people when you've lived as long as I have and seen the worst of what humanity is capable of, myself being a prime example. But, it's not impossible. I enjoy an immensely satisfying friendship with Trevor. A friendship that is in jeopardy unless I pay attention to him in the next few seconds.

Giving him a wry grin of apology, I signal with my hand that he may proceed.

Trevor arches one bushy brow high into his tanned forehead. Smiling, he tells me in his most humble voice, "Thank you master for deigning to notice me." I'm amazed how he manages to keep all traces of sarcasm out of his voice.

Enjoying the game, I recline into my leather chair and wave my hand at him a second time as I study the screen for Trev's reaction.

He runs a head through his slightly graying hair, a habit of his he always uses when he is organizing his thoughts. "Well Angel, where should I start?"

A rather obvious question, in my opinion, with an equally obvious answer. "Are they still in Spain and has anyone seen Willow?"

"Yes, they are still in Spain," came the reassuring reply, " at least they are according to the last report which came two hours ago. There are staying in La Hotel Grande De Barcelona. Haven't found out which room exactly but all that can be hammered out once you reach them. Kane Havor reserved the room for 10 days. And no, my man hasn't seen her but we've had confirmation by the hotel's staff that she is there."

Trev continued but I could no longer process what he was saying. Room. Singular. One word that makes me want to kill the next person who walks by. Fury consumes me. I begin shaking with the force of my rage. The mere thought of Willow in a room with Kane….I feel my face shift into it's ridges and creases as my demon forces it's way to the surface. In that instant, all my senses align and I become a predator, pure and simple. I exist for one reason, to find and kill Kane and take Willow away from the barbarian who DARED take her away from me. A low snarl builds up in my throat and works it's way up to a full-fledged growl. I am close to losing myself to my rage and allowing the demon complete dominance

Thankfully, a small part of my soul flickers at the edge of my senses, screaming in protest of my demon's actions. It's the part of me that loves Willow unconditionally. The part that loves her with fierce possessiveness. Most importantly, the part of me that retains my humanity. Slowly, oh so slowly, I calm down just enough to focus on the frantic face of Trevor on the small screen in front of me. Focusing on that face, I feel more of my anger drain. Of all things, I hate causing any of my friends pain or fear. The latter is evident in Trevor's face. But that's not what brought me down from my id-induced state, it was the subtle difference in the type of fear that showed on Trevor's face. It wasn't fear for himself or the people around me. It was for me.

He was afraid for me. He regretted the fact that his news had brought me pain, and he feared that I would allow the pain and anger to control me to the point of no return

The demon's mask slips from my face as I feel the primal rage draining from me to be replaced with fierce determination.

"I'm going to find her Trevor. I will find them." I tell him softly, and I know the predatory gleam still shines in my eyes.

*****
 
 
 

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