Guardian Angel 2: Road to Recovery

Author: Lucinda

rating: pg 13

Second story in Guardian Angel series, which will be Willow/Angel, main character is Willow.

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Distribution: WLS, NHA, Bite Me, Wic, Soul Mates... anyone else I gave a general permission to.  Otherwise, ask first.

Note: set after Becoming.  Will shortly become AU.

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~Part: 1~

            It was the pain that woke her.  The muscles in her back and legs were cramped and aching from the way that she'd used them to bring Angel back.  From standing, from walking.  Willow tried not to whimper from it, feeling the tears slide out of the corners of her eyes.  She didn't know if she would be able to move, let alone stand up.

                It was only when she heard the soft noise, sort of a soft rumble, that's he realized that Angel was still curled up with her, his body pressed against hers, his hand brushing at her hair.  He was looking at her, his amber eyes filled with worry and confusion.

            Willow was relieved to know that he was worried for her safety, but wasn't quite sure how to help him figure out what was wrong.  He wasn't using words yet, would he understand if she tried to explain?  She shifted slowly, rolling a little so that she could face him, and carefully moved her fingers over his arm, following the line of some sort of vicious looking slash, still red and looking almost swollen.  "I was hurt. before.  I'm still healing."

     The skin of his arm quivered, and he watched her fingers trace his wound.  With a small frown, he seemed to be trying to think over her words, her actions.  Then, he touched her back, and gestured again at his arm, looking almost hesitant.  As if he was comparing.

      Willow nodded, hoping that he had understood what she was trying to convey.  They had both been injured.  But Angel looked better already, partly from being clean, and partly because the loose clothing concealed just how gaunt he'd become.  He would recover, physically.  But would his mind recover?  He'd been trapped in hell, or somewhere close enough to still be unfathomably miserable.  That had affected his mind, and Willow had no idea how long it would take him to recover from that, if he would.

            He brushed his fingers over the tears on her cheeks, and lifted his fingers to his mouth.  Sniffing carefully, he licked the tears away.  He pulled away from her, tucking a blanket gently around her before he moved out of the room.  It was an odd mixture of stalking and gliding, and his movements were as silent as a shadow.

       Willow sighed, closing her eyes again.  It did nothing for the pain, but her head was throbbing as well.  The blanket smelled like Angel.  That brought a tiny smile to her face, and she tried to pull it closer to her, to wrap herself up in his scent as well as the warmth.  The ritual had probably been too much, far more magic than she should have even considered using. But how could she not try it?  How could she have left Angel there and turned her back on someone in need?  Even if it did cost her.

         She felt the mattress of the bed shift slightly, and smelled grapes and bread.  Opening her eyes, she discovered that Angel had returned, carrying a plate of food for her.  Grapes, bread, a little cheese. and a glass of water.  He still had that worried look, and after settling the plate on the bed, he offered her a grape.  Slowly, he fed her the food, carefully lifting her so that she could drink.

      Willow felt pleased and grateful and just a little embarrassed about Angel feeding her like that.  Granted, she needed the food, and granted, she was in no condition to go after it herself, but.  It just seemed incredibly personal.  She smiled at that - he'd slept naked beside her, and here she was thinking that him feeding her was personal?

      He moved the glass and the plate, making certain that she wouldn't bump into them on the bed, and touched her hair again, a small smile dancing over his face.  He touched her shoulder, and then the bed, as if he was trying to tell her that she needed the rest.  When she made a tiny nod and curled her fingers over the blanket, he smiled, and moved a little, investigating the room.

      She just watched him, allowing his movements to be a soothing thing. Everything still hurt, and she still had a sort of achy feeling inside, probably from the magic.  She really didn't think that she would sleep anytime soon, but the idea of just staying here, not moving in a blanket that smelled like Angel and safety.  That was comforting.

          Eventually, she drifted into slumber.  Once again, Willow found herself in the strange fog that wasn't fog, under singing crystal stars. But the place no longer smelled of blood and ashes, now it smelled of growing things, and stagnant water, and the strange scent that ground gets when it's hot.  Apparently, Drusilla had decided to contact her again.

       "Did you bring him back?  Is my Daddy alright?"  The voice was filled with worry, and the fog parted, revealing Drusilla, wearing a gown in bone white, a shawl in crimson and orange and gold and white draped over her shoulders.  Behind her, a figure stood, taller, more slender, with pale hair.  A hint of cigarette smoke came from that direction, and Willow knew that the presence was Spike, even if he wasn't actually here, he existed in Drusilla's world.

         "Hello again, Dru."  Willow offered a small smile, stretching her arms as she lifted onto her toes.  Nothing hurt here, in this dream-place. Once again, she was dressed in a long, flowing gown, this one a deep burgundy color.

           Dru took one of Willow's hands into her own cool grip, and looked at her, her eyes flickering over Willow, her whole being attentive.  "Is he safe now?"

         "Sunnydale isn't ever really safe.  I brought him back, he's not in the place of fire and ashes anymore."  Willow offered a bit of reassurance, hoping that Dru would be pleased.

           "Oh, wonderful!  Perhaps we should go meet you for tea?"  Her smile was intense, and in that moment, Willow understood the woman's beauty, her deadly seductive appeal.

         "No, Dru.  I don't think that would be good yet.  I brought him back, but. He's not well.  That place wasn't good for him, and he's been hurt.  He needs time to regain his strength, and also to remember how to be himself again."  Willow tried to make the vampires understand.

            "How to be himself?  But."  She wrinkled her brow, looking puzzled.  "How could he not be himself?"

           "He isn't using words. None at all, and I'm not sure if he's understanding them.  That place. he's lost weight, nearly starved.  I could count every rib, each bump on his backbone.  Being there hurt him, body and mind.  He needs to get better."  She tried to picture him when he'd first returned, and a patch of the fog pulled away, revealing an image, slightly translucent, but clearly the ash and blood covered figure that she'd first seen after the spell.

            "ohhh.."  Drusilla dropped Willow's hand, reaching towards the image with an expression of worry and shock.  "What have they done to my poor Daddy?"

            "I'm going to help him get better."  Her words were soft, and Willow wasn't certain if it was wise to worry about Dru so much.  But she obviously worried about Angel.  "It might take a while, but I'm going to help him."

           "Yes, help him get better, little witch.  Help my Daddy."  Dru's voice faded, and everything blurred into the fog.

              Willow shifted a little in her sleep, whimpering a bit as the movement pulled at sore muscles.  Angel slipped onto the bed, curling up behind her, wrapping his body around her, tugging the blanket a bit so that it wrapped around them both.  He ran his fingers gently over her arm, the action seeming to soothe her in her dreams.  Eventually, they both slept quietly, snuggled under the blanket.

~Part: 2~

         Willow felt better when she woke again.  Her muscles were only sore, aching instead of radiating waves of agony.  Her head felt. sort of over sized and fuzzy, but it didn't really hurt.  And she was hungry.  Angel was snuggled up against her, his arm curling around, elbow near her hip, and his hand. umm.  Somehow, his hand had ended up just under her breast.  His head was leaning on hers, his cool lips touching the top of her shoulder.

           An observer would have thought the pair of them to be young lovers, curled up together so intimately.  The idea made her blush, but more from embarrassment at the idea of someone watching her sleep that any sort of distaste for the idea of dating Angel.  Granted, there were reasons to think carefully about that idea, like the clause that had caused disaster for him and Buffy, like the fact that she'd just separated from Oz, like the fact that she wasn't certain how much Angel was even thinking, let alone if he was thinking of her as a potential lover.

          With a small smile, she carefully moved Angel's hand, shifting his arm so that she would be able to get out of the bed.  Gently, she lifted his head, allowing her to make a twist and sort of scootching movement out from under him.  Granted, it had felt wonderfully safe and protecting, but.  She had to get out of the bed.  She needed the bathroom and food, pretty much in that order.

           Walking was painful, her legs half numb, half aching in a manner similar to bruises, and she leaned against the wall as she slowly hobbled to the bathroom.  She felt a lot better after that, and even though the trip to the kitchen was an incredibly long journey, she had a faint smile.  She was getting better, healing.  And thanks to Angel, there should be some food to eat.

        She was sitting at the table, devouring her second peanut butter and jelly sandwich when Angel entered the kitchen.  He looked. a little worried, and smiled when he was her.  He came over, touching her shoulder gently, a hint of a frown almost managing to stay on his face.  He'd worried when she wasn't there, apparently.

        "I didn't mean to worry you, Angel.  I was just. hungry."  Willow sighed, not wanting to worry Angel, or to delay his recovery.    Perhaps she should let him know before she left, at least until he was thinking more clearly?

         He seemed to relax a little, and made his way over to the cooler of blood bags, now in the corner of the kitchen.  Opening it, he pulled out a few bags, closing the lid again.    Holding them, he paused a few moments, as if thinking about something before he walked over to the table, and carefully sat at the other chair, glancing at her before adjusting his pose a little.  It was as if he was trying to follow the rules of behavior, and she was his only clue.  He then drank his blood, looking at the empty bags with a small frown.

          "They go in the trash can.  Over there."  Willow gestured towards the small trash can, hoping that he would understand her.

            Angel stood up, gathering the flattened bits of plastic, and made his way towards the can, peering into it cautiously, as if he half expected something to be inside of it.  He held the bags over it, glancing towards Willow.  At her smile and nod, he dropped them into the can before returning to the table.

               That made Willow smile, and she reached out, her fingertips just barely touching Angel's.  "You'll remember.  Things here aren't so bad."

         He smiled back, a bit hesitantly.

          Willow hardly even thought about the fact that he'd kept his vampire features the whole time that he'd been back.  Not even for a moment had his human features shown themselves.  And for some reason, it didn't bother her, didn't frighten her that those same golden eyes had glared hatefully at all of them, that those same sharp teeth had nearly sank into her throat in the hall of the school when Angelus was running rampant.

        Finishing her food, Willow made her slow way to the corner where his cooler was.  Flipping up the lid, she looked, curious how much would be remaining, how much longer the massive amount of blood that she'd purchased would last.  There was no more than a dozen packets left, stacked neatly on the bottom.  Almost all of them were gone.  Glancing up as she shut the lid, she looked at Angel.  "You were very hungry, weren't you?  We'll have to go buy more blood for you, you really don't look up to hunting, or picking up carry out on your own.  That can wait until later though."

~Part: 3~

            There was really no other option.  She would have to drive to Willie's, everything hurt too much to even consider walking.  Of course, convincing Angel to ride in the car with her had been a rather long seeming process, but she'd managed.  He had this doubtful look, and kept glancing towards the hood, as if he half expected whatever was making the noise to rebel and attack them.  Willie's looked just as miserable and unhealthy now as it had been those days before, when she'd purchased blood in preparation for bringing Angel back.

         To her dismay, there wasn't anywhere close to park, so she had to practically creep the car along the street, looking for a place to park. Then, they got out of the car, with Angel giving what she could only describe as a warning growl to it.  Was he trying to threaten the car into staying put?  Into remaining obedient and peaceful?  She was still trying to restrain her smile as he turned back to her, offering her an arm for support.  He just seemed so protective, so.  Well, she rather enjoyed having her very own guardian Angel.

           Willow sighed as her muscles sent twinges of protest at the movement.  Was it from the drive, all the walking yesterday, or simply the effects of her injury?  Perhaps it didn't really matter why she ached, as long as she was careful.  But it did mean that her trip into Willie's was slower than she'd like.

           The assorted patrons turned and stared as they walked in.  Demons and humans, or at least, people that might be humans, were seated in booths, and along the bar.  Willie himself was behind that bar, currently handing a bottle of beer to a green man with what looked like stag's antlers, traces of slime coating the antlers, dribbled onto the shoulders and back of his jacket.  Something about them seemed to be making people slightly nervous.

           Willow tried to ignore the way everyone was staring, and made her way towards the bar, attempting to look more confident, to hide any trace of her limping or pain.  This wasn't the place for any hint of weakness. "Hello, Willie.  I think that I'd like to purchase some more blood from you."

            He looked at her, his eyes shifting nervously from her to Angel and back again.  "Ahh.. Red.. Your vamp there. umm."

        Angel growled at him, the sound unquestionably threatening.

          "He's a little bit on edge after everything.  I don't think now is the time to argue with me."  Willow tried not to smile at the nearly panicked expression on the bartender's face.

            "On edge?  Your vampire reeks of Hell."  The rough voice came from a figure entirely enveloped by dark robes.  He could have been human, or vampire, or one of a dozen types of demon.  "He looks to have gone feral.   a rather extreme form of watchdog for you, lady witch."

              "But as long as nobody does anything threatening, he should be alright."  Willow offered a small smile towards the robed figure, before looking towards Willie again.  "And as long as he doesn't get too hungry."

               Willie practically ran to get a second cooler of blood bags. The fear was rolling from him so thickly that Willow could almost taste it, and Angel watched him with this little almost smile and a gleam in his eyes.   Did he think that Willie looked like a potential meal, or was he amused by the man's scurrying fear?  That was probably something else that didn't really matter.

         The place was unsettlingly quiet as she simply handed some money over to Willie, and turned to leave the building.  Angel followed, carrying the cooler and watching everybody as if they were a potential danger, a possible threat.  Nobody inside made anything that might be interpreted as a threatening movement.  Maybe all the fear wasn't coming from Willie.

                She'd just opened the door to the back of the car, allowing Angel to slide the cooler onto the seat.  Something seemed. well, she couldn't put it into words, but Willow was feeling uneasy.  That uneasiness was the only warning that she had before something slammed into her back, the impact causing her to connect to the door painfully.  She gasped, her back flaring with pain.

            Angel roared, leaping at the thing that had tackled her, lifting it into the air and flinging it away, the flailing shape bouncing off of another car before lancing with a crunch on the sidewalk.  There was a second shape, and Angel began hitting it, apparently intent on pounding it into a smear for the attack on Willow.

     Carefully, Willow used the car to pull herself back to her feet. "Angel?  I think it's dead now.  You can leave it be.  We can go back home now."

            With a final snort, Angel dropped the now bloody and beaten demon to the sidewalk.  It might have been dead, it was hard to say.  He licked at the back of one blood splashed hand, making a small face at the flavor.  Apparently, the demon blood didn't taste very good.

             He looked at Willow, apparently worried about her safety, and stood protectively as she slowly got into the car, her teeth gritted as her back throbbed.  Only then would he get back into the car, one hand remaining on the door the entire slow trip back to the mansion.

            He insisted on carrying her from the garage to the bedroom, laying her on the mattress ad tucking the blanket over her with a worried expression.  Only then did he go back to bring in the blood.  Willow simply sighed, part of her wanting to protest at his over-protectiveness, but another part just enjoying it.  And her back did hurt again, probably turning purple and blue already.  She decided not to worry about it for now, and closed her eyes, trying to rest for a while.

          Eventually, Angel came into the room, the door closing most of the way behind him.  The mattress shifted slightly as he curled behind her, his arm wrapping over her side as he snuggled under the blanket.  His presence seemed soothing and comfortable.  She was smiling as she drifted to sleep.

~Part: 4~

         With Angel's protection and protective company, Willow was able to feel safe while she regained her strength.  Both the magic that she'd expended in bringing Angel back, or at lease enough magic that she didn't feel oddly hollow inside, and a more physical recovery.

          That didn't mean that everything was simple, or harmless, or that she just woke up better.  No, when Willow woke up, her back was a stiff mass of bruises and aches, and she shuffled slowly the few times that she moved away from a soft surface to lay flat on.  But she didn't have the same feeling of horrible vulnerability, or a feeling of being all alone either. She had food, and a wonderful hot shower that felt wonderful for a while, before the heat and pressure got to be a little too much and she staggered back out.

           Angel was looking much better, less thin, less of that almost painfully wary and nervous, although he was still very alert.  He was also starting to do some exercises, slow, graceful movements that Willow would watch, smiling softly.  He looked almost calm, and very graceful.  Angel had become the new constant in her life.

             That was almost enough to make up for all the pain and disappointment.  For circumstances that had made Oz leave, although she wished him good luck with the band.  For Xander's betrayal, telling Buffy those words instead of about the ritual.  Sometimes, she tried to figure out what might have happened if he'd told Buffy, told her about the ritual like she'd asked him to do.  Would Buffy have held back?  Would Angelus have killed the Slayer?  Would Buffy have killed Angelus for the extent of the things that had happened?  Well, probably not, Buffy hadn't been able to bring herself to do that before Acathala, why on that night?  Would Buffy have been able to find some other way to close the portal besides sending Angel to hell?  Would Buffy have been angry about the restoration ritual?

            She didn't know, couldn't know.  Buffy was gone, hadn't been seen by anyone since she'd gone to face Angelus and stop Acathala.  Giles was searching for her, or maybe he'd come back from his journey to Chicago... Willow wasn't quite certain.  Buffy had to be somewhere, but that somewhere wasn't here.

           As for Xander. she was still trying to figure out what to do, how to react to the whole thing.  To his deception.  Granted, that might have kept the world from being sucked into hell, and granted that he'd never liked Angel.  But to know that he'd lied, that he'd put those words in her mouth. It hurt.  It hurt and made her question if Xander might have lied about anything else.

                 That lie, or more accurately, the fact that she'd found out about the lie would change things.  Change the way that she viewed Xander, the way she reacted to his words.  But.  but what else?  Would he still be her friend?  Would he even want to be her friend when he found out that she'd brought Angel back?  How would she manage if he didn't want to be her friend anymore?

             There was a soft rumble, and Angel touched her shoulder, as if trying to figure out why she was upset.  Or offering a measure of comfort to her.  His fingers made a small rubbing motion, brushing over her shoulder and upper arm.  The touch felt soothing and welcome.

              Willow put her hand over his, smiling at him.  "Thanks, Angel."

           She wasn't alone, not really.  And maybe things would get better.   Maybe she could spend more time with Amy after she got back from the summer with her dad.  They could watch movies, and eat brownies, and maybe practice a little magic?  Xander. well, either he would still be her friend or not, but she was going to let him have the option, even if she didn't think that she could trust him quite as much as she used to.  Giles. well, that might depend on how much time he spent looking for Buffy or a definite sign of a new Slayer.

               Angel was here for her.  Angel wanted to keep her safe.  That would help with a few things right there, at least from the safety perspective.  He wasn't really up to much in the way of conversation yet, but he'd get better, right?

            And she would help him.  Willow wouldn't desert Angel, not when he needed help.  She wouldn't abandon a friend in need, that was part of what had got her to try the restoration ritual to begin with.  Of course, she might have been partly worried about Buffy, and partly fearing for her life, but.  The fact remained that she had been trying to help.  And her efforts to get him back from Hell had been. well, it had been after Dru had let her know what had happened, but she wouldn't have wanted anyone to stay there.

               Angel would be good for her, and hopefully, she would be good for him as well.  They could help each other get through this difficult time.  Although, maybe it was a bit harder on Angel than it was for Willow. She just had injuries, and loneliness.  He'd been to hell and back, literally.  But they weren't alone any more.

End

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