Willow was uncomfortable. Watching over Angel as he lay there feverish, his unlife slipping away, Willow couldn't help but remember Angelus. And the notes and the drawings she had never shown anyone, not even Buffy or Giles. The drawings were the most horrible. Drawings of her parents, their lifeless, mutilated bodies shown in graphic detail. Drawings of her being ravished by Angelus, her face contorted in pain, his in pleasure. And the captions were always the same."Soon."
That was what had spurred her on in her effort to restore Angel's soul, her fear of what Angelus had in store for her. She was grateful that he had been distracted by Acathla. That had bought her the time that she had needed. She was sorry that Angel had been sent to Hell with his soul, but a part of her wished he was at least gone from Sunnydale, that he had left after being freed from his torments and that she had never had to see him again. She could never look at his face without fear.
And yet, here she was, alone in Angel's mansion with the vampire whose soulless counterpart haunted her nightmares. He might be helpless, but, to Willow, he was still terrifying. He stirred and began moaning, startling the redhead out of her reverie. Then his eyes flew open and the demon she had hoped she had banished forever appeared in his eyes.
"You may think you're free, but you will always belong to me," the silken voice of Angelus promised.
Willow was frozen in fear. But, as swiftly as the demon had appeared, he faded from the vampire's chocolate-brown eyes, replaced by the tortured expression she knew came from Angel's soul.
"I was wrong," he said. "I can't leave you."
"Oh, you mean Buffy," Willow said, relieved.
"Buffy?" Angel questioned.
And as Willow reassured him that Buffy would return soon, she prayed this was the last time she was ever alone with the vampire. Even with his soul, he would always be the stuff of nightmares.
The End.