Author: JR
Email addy: <JRR42@yahoo.com>
Disclaimer: Angel, Willow, et al, are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the WB. All characters are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
Thanks: As always, to Carrie and to Marius for convincing me to post this. Not really betad (given the nature of the story), so all errors are mine and mine alone.
Notes: Umm, this is more a writing exercise than a story. I saw Doppelgangland again today, and I couldn't help but wonder what was going through Angel's head from the time he first saw Evil Willow in the Bronze to point where he sees her in the library. It's a grammatical nightmare, (and maybe it's just me), but I don't think in complete sentences.
//denotes dialogue from the episode//
Archive summary: Missing scene from Doppelgangland.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My mind is utterly blank as I hoist myself through the unlocked skylight in the ceiling.
//Go get Buffy. Now.//
Poor kid. It’s kind of odd, but I really do like Oz. Maybe its the whole ‘monster’ thing. We both have sides of ourselves that we’d do anything to get rid of -- vampire and werewolf. But that’s not the only reason. Truth be told, I appreciate his brevity, the way he doesn’t feel the need to fill every moment with lame jokes or useless commentary like some others I could name. Sure, Oz may be quieter than most, but when he does speak, odds are that whatever he has to say is going to be both well thought out and important. No wonder Wil...
...NO!
I force myself to not think about...it...as I skid painfully down the drainage pipe from the roof of the building. Blend, Angel. One with the shadows, ya know the drill, ya daft boyo. Don’t let ta patrols see ya.
Oh, fer the luv ‘o God, now I’m tinkin’ in brogue.
Speak...carefully...no...accent. Must be more upset than I realized.
Who am I kidding? Certainly not mys...
Patrol. Back into the shadows.
Good, he didn’t see me. Now what, though? Fight or get help? That’s one of Trick’s old cohorts. Hmmm. A fight now would be messy. The demon is calling me. It *wants* messy. But my soul is stronger.
Barely.
My soul is dying inside. Killed right along side of that beautiful girl...
Moot point now. The bastard is moving away from me.
Buffy. Gotta find Buffy.
No need for silence now, so I increase my pace. The sound of my shoes slapping against the pavement echoes in my ears. I speed up until the rhythmic sounds matches the cadence of the throbbing in my head.
She’s dead...she’s dead...she’s dead...she’s dead...
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I stop cold in my tracks, barely aware that I’m standing in the middle of a street. It’s too much for me to hold back any longer.
“Nooooo!” I howl into the night air like Oz baying at the moon. Over and over I scream out my denial until I can take it no longer. As my strength ebbs away, I sink to the ground, hardly noticing the pain to my knees as they impact harshly into rough asphalt.
“God, damn you to hell!” I rage at the deity of my youth, uselessly shaking my fists skyward. “How could you let this happen!”
“Not her! Not...her!” My voice cracks painfully, my throat closing up as my vision is fogs over with a red haze. I can feel the chill of the cold tears as they trail down my face.
“N...not...her....” The words are spoken in the barest whisper. I cover my face with my hands, my movements restricted by the sobs painfully wracking my body.
“Oh Willow.”
Oh Willow.
She truly was the angel my mother had hoped I would be. Pure. Innocent. Beautiful. Generous. And a million other adjectives that escape me at this point.
I begin to cry harder at the thought.
Oh God, the memories are coming now. Watching her from a distance the night of the Harvest. Our first informal introduction at the Bronze. Carrying her from the gas-filled room at the school. Her sleepily mistaking me for her mother that same night. Watching her on the computer in the library. Secretly following her from the Bronze to make sure she reached her home safely. Wincing as she chewed me out for not taking Buffy for coffee. Realizing just how truly stunning she was that crazy Halloween night. Watching her through her bedroom window as I gathered my courage to ask for her help tracking down information on Ford. Grinning inside as she hid her bra from my line of sight. Her hesitantly asking me for help fighting Eyghon. The first and only time she ever came to my apartment to ask me to Buffy’s surprise party.
Next, the bad memories come. Luring her to me, solely intent on breaking her neck. Reveling in the scent of her fear as I held her trembling body, knowing that she could feel the hard evidence of my excitement against her lower back. Sneaking into her house and killing her fish. Telling Drusilla I would give her a ‘special thank you’ if she eliminated Willow in the attack on the library.
Then she restored my soul.
Oh yes, I’ve always known that she was the one who did that, not just because she was the one who was most qualified to do it, either. No, I knew as it happened. I could...*feel* her, her power, her voice as she chanted the words of my salvation. But it all happened too fast. Buffy was there, kissing me, and then came the betrayal.
So much time in Hell. So much time to do nothing but think.
I did think about her. A lot. Granted, not as much as I thought about Buffy, but I wished that I had taken the time to get to know her better.
Then I was back. Buffy insisted that we keep my return quiet and I was too weak to argue with her. Right. More like I was too chickenshit to face everybody, not after my actions as Angelus.
All hell broke loose shortly after that. First that crazy Watcher tried to flatten the back of my head, then that over-eager Slayer tried to stake me, and the next thing I knew the Watcher-turned-demon was trying to bar-b-que Willow. I’ll never figure out where I found the energy to leap and save Willow, but I do know that if I had failed, I would have seen my first sunrise in centuries a few hours later.
I owe...owed...her that much.
I always hoped that the opportunity would come to get to know her better, but is seemed as if there were still too many bad memories in the way. Plus, from what I heard from Buffy, Willow had a lot to deal with on her own. Oz *and* Xander. Who would have thought she had it in her? Oh, I’ve known for a while now that eventually guys would fall all over themselves to get to know her better. As beautiful and innocent as she is? Flies to honey.
At least Oz was smart enough to realize what a treasure he has.
Oz!
Oh shit!
Pull it together. People are counting on you.
I wipe my eyes and cheeks, hoping that I’ve removed all traces of my breakdown. There will be time enough to mourn later.
My knees ache as I stand back up, stiffened not only from my collapse, but also from kneeling for so long.
Willow, a vampire. God in heaven was she gorgeous.
Stop that! The damned demon inside me knows that, for just a moment, I wanted her worse than I ever wanted anything before. And, in a scary place deep inside, I still want her now. I must be sick. She was my *friend*.
Buffy, gotta get to Buffy. Maybe Giles and she can do something -- the curse!! Maybe we can reconstruct the curse, give her back her soul! So she would still be a vampire, but she would be Willow in the ways that counted.
Would she want to exist like that, though? Willow? What if she’s already fed? Willow would never be able to live with the guilt if she took a life. It would kill her all over again.
That leaves staking.
Damn. Buffy will never be able to do it. If she couldn’t stake me when I was Angelus, she’ll never be able to dust Willow now. Neither will Giles...or Xander...
Maybe Faith can do it. She seems to be blood-thirsty enough. Maybe a bit too much for that matter.
No. If it comes down to that, I’ll do it. I owe Willow that much.
After all, I know better than anyone that...that *thing* back in the Bronze isn’t Willow anymore.
But isn’t it?
After all, I know better than anyone just how much of a person’s true personality remains after being turned. Demons aren’t responsible for all the evil vampires inflict. God, Buffy would stake me on sight if she ever knew...
But Willow...whodda thought she had all the dark passion hidden beneath that innocent exterior. Maybe they’re right when they say that it’s always the quiet ones. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to walk a little of the dark side with her...
...Stop it!! Just stop it!! How can I be so sick?? Enough already. Figure out just how in the hell to break this to them. Oh, this is going to crush them all.
There’s the school. My shoes are squeaking on the polished floor of the hallway. The library door is straight ahead -- no stopping now. I put on an extra bit of speed as I burst through the heavy doors.
Buffy is straight ahead, sitting forlornly on the stairs with Xander. Giles is sitting on a chair next to them, holding the arms of his glasses in that incredibly librarian way of his. My eyes never leave Buffy’s as I approach them.
Oh God give me strength, how am I going to say this? It’s going to kill them. Pull it together, boyo.
//Buffy// Don’t just blurt it out. C’mon, you’re two hundred and forty three years old, surely you can figure out some way to do this gently.
//I just...// No! Don’t say it like that, idiot.
//Something’s happened...that...// So much for gently.
//I...// Jesus, this is going to kill Giles. And Xander...God, I can’t believe I’m actually feeling sorry for Xander! No. Shake it off.
But I can’t. Oh God, I’m going to cry again. Suck it up. I *have* to do this!
//Willow’s dead...// Brilliant, Angel. Just the soul of tack aren’t you?
No, don’t look at them! I know that if I do, I’ll loose it. As I turn away, a flash of pastel catches my eye, and before I think twice, I reply automatically.
//Hey Willow...// What the hell?
I’m so stunned, I can’t even think. I babble something uselessly, my eyes darting back and forth between the vision in pink and the others. Xander is nodding at me in that annoying way of his while Giles simply shrugs.
//...we ran into her at the Bronze earlier.//
What??!!?? I listen carefully and hear one of the most beautiful sounds ever to strike my ears: Willow’s heart beating strongly. No doubt about it, this is Willow, my Willow...
...my Willow?
Later.
I want to crush her into an embrace, to hold her until I’m reassured that she *is* real. But I can’t. If I do that, I’ll lose it again. Besides, Buffy’s here...business first.
//Okay, but she’s at the Bronze right now with a cadre of vampires looking to party...//
They’re all getting up, time to go. She’s alive! Alive!!
//How many?// Huh? Oh. Right. Vampires. Bronze.
//Eight or ten.// We’re moving rapidly down the hallway now. Don’t look at her, or you won’t be able to stop. Keep up with Buffy.
//Uh, guys?// How did I ever not notice how musical her voice is? //What are we going to do about me...uh, the other me?//
Who cares? As long as you’re safe, Willow. Wait. Where is she going? Argh! Why can’t I pay attention? What did I miss? I want to stay with her, but Buffy is motioning me onwards.
Fine, I’ll go with them for now, but when this is over, Willow and I are going to have a talk...a long-overdue talk.