Part 1

      He was in a ring of fire.  Everywhere he turned was a wall of flame and
standing on the outside of the ring was another face.  Faces from a time
long since passed.  And a time that had just recently ended.  Faces of men,
women and children who had their lives unmercifully cut short all because it
had pleased him at the time.  Faces of people who had never had the chance
to realize their hopes.  Their dreams.  Faces of the people that came to
him, day after day to torture him.  Faces of the people that he had killed.
      They came to him at night.  These people whose lives had been snuffed out
all because they had had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the
wrong time.  The first to come to him were his mother and father.  They were
followed by his little sister, Kathy.  Her face wore an angelic smile on it
as it looked at him, which caused him even more pain than if she looked at
him with hatred.  Knowing that she had somehow forgiven him, somehow still
loved him was more than he could bear.
      Others came after them.  A bar wench he had seduced outside of Dublin one
night.  A drunken sailor fresh off a sea voyage to the new world.  A school
marm that had been coming home from a church gathering.  A little boy who
had gotten lost and stayed out past dark.  A family that had taken in what
they had thought was a wandering stranger in need of some dry lodgings for
the night.  A gypsy girl that had been taken from her clan and given to him
for a present.  A witch who had been trying to fix a wrong and give him back
his soul.
      Even when he closed his eyes they were there.  Beyond that circle of flame.
  Then the chanting would begin.  It was always the same.  It would start as
something akin to a low hum, then gradually get louder until the words
became louder than the noise of the hell he was in.  "Murderer.  Killer.
Murderer.  Killer."  The same two words, over and over again.  He tried to
cover his ears, tried to block out the sound, but he couldn't.  Then he
would scream out in pain, his soul in torment over the crimes that he had
committed.  He knew that there was no way he could repay the world for what
he had done.  For what he had taken, so he forced himself to listen to them.
  And that's when she came.
      She was the latest in the torture game that he was always being forced to
deal with.  She would walk through the flames, her white gown billowing
behind her, remarkably unsinged by the red hot flames.  Her red hair flowing
behind her in the wind that was swirling in the cavern.  The faces were
quiet when she appeared, knowing that her face was the one that haunted him
the most.  He knew that he should recognize her, but he couldn't.  His mind
wasn't in its right state.  Her green eyes looked at him with pity in them.
Pity and something else that he wasn't quite able to believe.  She was his
goddess.  She was everything that was pure and good in the world.
Everything that he could never be.  She was his savior.  Every night she
encouraged him to take her hand so that she could lead him from the hell
that he was in.  And every night he would turn her away, not willing to
believe that he deserved saving.  And then she would leave and he would be
alone.  The faces were gone.  The flames extinguished and utter silence.
Just him.  And then he would finally allow himself his one luxury.  He would
cry.
      She awoke when she heard soft crying coming from the other bedroom.  It was
the same every night.  He would be crying in his sleep.  She went into his
room and climbed into his bed. She wasn't self-conscious about climbing into
bed with a man in only her nightshirt, having done the same thing for the
past week.  After the first night of his dreams, she had often taken to
joining him in his bed when it became apparent that his dreams had turned
into the nightmares that refused to allow him the peaceful sleep that she
felt he deserved.  She wrapped his cool body with her own warm one and felt
him instantly relax under her touch.  Again , same as always.
      She didn't know what his dreams were about, although she had a pretty good
idea.  He always refused to talk about them when they were together, instead
bottling them up.  She hated knowing that he was in so much anguish over
crimes that he didn't have any control over.  She didn't like seeing any of
her friends hurting when she felt that she could do something about it, but
with him, she felt helpless, so she did the only thing that she thought she
could.  She just lay with him and held him and soothed away his fears.
      None of the others knew about this little ritual of hers.  In fact, they
didn't even know that she stayed at his house, practically having moved in
with him.  It was only supposed to be a temporary situation, one that would
end once the dreams went away, but each night it was the same.  She would go
to sleep in her room, only to be by his side in the morning.  And she
actually had grown used to it.  What had started out as comforting to him,
had turned into a comfort for her also. It had gotten to the point that she
truly did not get a good night's sleep until she was by his side.  She
didn't want to think of why that might be, knowing that if it was what she
though, nothing could come of it.
      She felt his sobbing slow and then stop completely and hoped that he was
finally drifting into a peaceful sleep.  She rubbed his back, soothing him
much like a mother to her babe.  She whispered soft words into his ear,
lulling him further into his sleep.  She offered him what little she could
give him, never knowing that it was exactly what he needed.  She knew that
she shouldn't be the one there in his bed.  That is should be the other
girl.  The girl that he loved and that loved him back, but she wasn't there.
  Instead she had to go do something with her mother.  She didn't mind.  She
liked being alone with him.  They were friends and she was raised that
friends did anything for each other.
      "Shhhh, it will be all right.  Just go to sleep now," she cooed at him.  He
sighed in his sleep as she rested her head on his pillow and closed her
eyes.  She never heard him as he softly spoke a name for the first time in
his sleep, indicating just exactly whom he was dreaming of in this calm
state.  Even if she did, the red head would have only thought that he had
said her name because she was the one that was with him.  And as the sun
rose over the sleeping town of Sunnyvale, Angel and Willow slept peacefully,
dreaming of what of what might be if things had been different.
 

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