Angelus entered the old building wearily, his eyes just shaking off the haze of whatever state he had been in minutes before. The same image kept flashing before his eyes: red hair, glowing green eyes, a smooth, innocent face, power and beauty beyond his wildest imagination...
A growl erupted from the vampire's chest as his thoughts dwindled once again on the events that unfolded on the street. No one told him what to do--especially not some amateur witch. But, against all odds, Angelus couldn't help but feel perversely proud of the young redhead. She had, after all, managed to evade him more times than he could count, and had thrown quite a few wrenches in his carefully laid plans. She was completely unpredictable, and for that, Angelus adored chasing her--probably because he always knew where she was.
He smiled slightly to himself at the thought of it. The first time it had occurred, he had just assumed he had gotten lucky. But then it happened a second time, a third time, and so on, until he knew that it was more than that. Most likely it was a reverse effect of the bond that Willow had invoked on the both of them, and he couldn't be sure of the extent of it; but somehow, he always just *knew* where she was. He could feel it in his bones. Even if he closed his eyes and wandered out into the middle of nowhere, he was sure he'd be able to find her.
As aggravating as that had been originally, Angelus was coming to find that he rather enjoyed it. She had a sweet essence about her, a sort of innocence that never really dies, and he found that that essence now accompanied him no matter what. And, strangely, he didn't seem to mind. Besides, he didn't think he'd ever get tired of seeing the expression on the girl's face every time he managed to corner her. It was absolutely priceless, and Angelus smiled at the thought of it.
"What are you grinning at?" Jaufien asked irritably as he entered the room.
"Nothing," Angelus replied, his thoughts quickly leaving the elusive redhead. "What crawled into your blood?" Angelus asked, quickly gauging the mood of the elder vampire.
"A deadline. A time frame. All my plans going up in smoke!" Jaufien barked, "any other questions?"
"Just a comment. We've still got a month."
"And we have no sword."
"Or energy," Angelus muttered for good measure.
If looks could kill, Angelus would have been a pile of dust. Jaufien's jaw stiffened ever so slightly--the only indication that he was trying desperately to control his temper--and he spoke through clenched teeth, "*That* is not a problem--assuming you don't plan on letting the person go next time. What I need is to locate that forsaken sword!"
Angelus knew better than to provoke him further, and sighed, "No word, huh?"
"None. And relics don't just drop off the face of the planet, either."
"The Sword of Gwydeon," Angelus contemplated the name for a moment, wondering where he had heard of it, or, at least, who he had heard talk about it. He couldn't help but wonder how much faster this process might have gone with all the resources of the Watcher Library at their disposal. In truth, his souled alter ego had almost gotten used to the mountains of information that Rupert and Willow had been able to provide by skimming through an old book or clicking a machine. It was certainly preferable to beating someone senseless in order to get the same information from half a dozen sources over a period of days. Of course, if Angelus had to choose, he'd just beat the person. Research and fun in one fail swoop--an oxymoron that could only work for a vampire.
The thought of his souled days brought an itching to his brain, however, and Angelus struggled mentally to grasp exactly why. He realized, though, that it wasn't the mention of Angel, but rather the mention of Watchers--more specifically, Rupert.
Suddenly, Angelus knew exactly where he had heard of the sword.
A slow grin crept over his features, and a mischievous twinkle shone in his eyes.
"Don't you ever stop grinning?" Jaufien snapped.
"I've just found your sword," he retorted.
"What? Where is it?"
"A small town right here in good old California. Not too far from LA, actually."
"I want a name."
"The Hellmouth."
Jaufien was silent at this new piece of information, so Angelus continued, "Commonly known as Sunnydale."
"You've been there?" Jaufien asked cautiously.
"Where haven't I been?"
"I've heard of the place. I've also heard that a Slayer resides there. A good Slayer."
"Not as good as all that if I've lived there, and if I'm still alive."
"You're sure?"
"Would I lie?"
Jaufien quirked an eyebrow amusedly, giving Angelus a look that silently asked 'do you really want me to answer that?' Instead, he spoke, "Well, Slayers have never really been a problem for me before. I don't see why one should be so now. How do you feel about taking a trip?"
"You know me," Angelus shrugged his shoulders, "I love to travel." He hadn't contemplated going back to Sunnyhell, but with the sudden twist of events, he figured it would be loads of fun.
And Angelus never missed an opportunity to have fun.
***
Willow threw herself exhaustedly on the couch by the entrance to Angel Investigations. It felt as if thoughts were running through her brain a mile a minute at the same time as an empty void was consuming her. Her senses were on overload, and she didn't want to do anything except crawl into a hole for the next year. Or more.
"Willow?" Cordelia emerged from the back with Doyle in tow. Somehow, it didn't really surprise Willow to see them still there at this hour. Ever since events had conspired against them almost a week ago, the two of them practically lived in the office along with her. She suddenly didn't feel so alone.
"Yeah?"
"We were worried about you," Cordelia came to sit down next to her, "you just ran out of here, and Doyle couldn't find you and we thought that...well nevermind. What happened?"
Willow was shocked into silence for a moment. Cordelia Chase, Queen C, Bitch of the Year, was actually concerned about her. And she was showing it! Openly! In a friendly manner! Willow wondered for a moment what exactly had happened to the young woman in LA, or if she had always been a good person deep down inside, and if, in the resentment that had accumulated over twelve years, she had just chosen not to see it.
Willow knew with a sinking feeling that the latter was most likely the case, and her own character flaws seemed magnified once more. Firmly shaking of the self-pity that she knew was on the verge of consuming her again, Willow answered, "I ran into Angelus."
>From the pale faces of her friends, she knew that this was the option they had considered most likely. "I'm sorry," she spoke the words just as she wondered to herself about when, exactly, she had begun referring to these people as her friends.
"At least yer back in one piece," Doyle offered his usual dose of well-timed humor. Willow smiled.
"At least," she breathed.
"What happened out there?" Doyle asked, becoming serious for a moment, "you look like a wreck."
"That's an understatement," Cordelia huffed. Obviously the tender moment had passed.
Willow shot her a glare before speaking, "You remember how we were wondering what, exactly, the effects of the binding spell would be?"
"Yeah?" Doyle prodded.
"Well...I might have some idea now."
"You what? What happened?" Cordelia looked at her with renewed interest.
"Well, I sort of--"
Willow's half-hearted explanation was cut off when Doyle howled in sudden pain and grabbed his head.
"Oh my gosh, Doyle!" Cordelia was on her feet in a second and at his side in the next, offering herself as support so that he wouldn't collapse with the mental weight of the vision that was bombarding him.
"What's going on?" Willow whispered.
"Doyle's having a vision. Quick, get some water," Cordelia ordered her.
Willow nodded her head and ran to do as she was told, never imagining that precognition was so painful. When she got back, Doyle was seated on the couch she had occupied moments before, looking almost paler than Angel--which was a very hard thing to accomplish.
"What happened?" Willow asked, extending her hand and offering him the water. Doyle took it gratefully, and, after taking a rather large gulp, looked up at the two women.
He smiled weakly and joked, "If this is all it takes ta have beautiful women surround and dote on me, then the fates aren't as cruel as I thought."
"Doyle," Cordelia reprimanded him gently. Willow marveled.
"Right. The vision," Doyle took another sip of water, "ya couldn't have brought whiskey?" he directed the question at Willow.
"Doyle!" Cordelia snapped.
"Okay, okay," Doyle put the glass down and, by the look on his face, communicated that whatever it was was very very bad. "I saw Buffy and some other people I couldn't recognize--it was hard to get everything. They were fighting Angelus and Jaufien--and losing."
Willow felt a chill sweep over her as numbness grabbed at her constricted heart. "Oh no. We have to get back to Sunnydale!"
"Yer right," Doyle stood shakily, "I never wanted to go there meself, but it looks as if the powers that be have had other plans all along."
"Since when do they not?" Cordelia's voice was a mix of hostility, anger, and fear. "So, we taking Angel's car?"
End Part 14
Sunnydale
"What do you mean I'm losing my touch, you de-fanged, whining, no-good excuse for-a-pile-of-dust peroxide freak!" Buffy snarled at Spike, who was seated casually on the couch in Giles' living room.
"I mean that ever since commando boy here turned up, you've gotten a wee bit slacked on your fighting technique," Spike countered calmly, thoroughly enjoying irritating the Slayer. He had, in recent weeks, learned that it was so much easier to hurt these people with words than it ever was with fists. Maybe his dolt of a sire had some actual wisdom after all.
"Why you--" Buffy grabbed her stake from her pocket and was preparing to lunge for Spike when the sound of furious knocking on the door stopped her in her tracks. She gave a questioning look to Giles, silently asking if he was expecting someone, but the ex-watcher shook his head.
Buffy went to the door and opened it, and was shocked to find Angel standing on the other side--with another vampire she'd never seen. A vampire who wasn't dust. "Angel!" she exclaimed, wondering what sort of peril had brought him back to Sunnydale. "What are you doing here?"
"Can we come in?" he asked.
"You already have an invitation..." Buffy trailed off as she eyed with suspicion the look that Angel's companion gave him.
"Yeah, but my friend here doesn't," Angelus tried his best to seem soulful.
"Your friend's a vampire," Buffy's eyes narrowed slightly. She didn't like this feeling at all.
"So am I," Angelus reminded her.
"Buffy?" Riley came up to stand next to his girlfriend, wondering what was going on. He'd heard the words "vampire" and all of his internal danger warnings had immediately gone up.
"It's just an old friend," Buffy assured him.
"You keep friends with vampires?" Riley's eyes, too, were narrowed with suspicion.
"It's a long story," she used the tired old line.
"Seems everything is," he answered, his eyes still trained on the two forms outside the door.
Angelus sighed, trying desperately to keep the sad, brooding, look in place, then turned to Jaufien. "Mind staying out here for a while? I don't want any frayed nerves, you know?"
Jaufien merely raised an eyebrow, wondering what his student was planning, but said nothing. Angelus took that for an affirmation, then turned and stepped inside.
Buffy relaxed slightly, but Riley drew himself to full attention. "You're not getting in here," he informed the vampire, blocking any further entry into the house.
"Buffy," Angelus looked at her, completely ignoring the boy. He didn't like him, and he quickly told himself that he would enjoy killing him. "I need to talk to you."
"It's okay, Riley," Buffy nudged him aside, "Angel's cool." Riley gave Buffy a stern look, but did as he was asked. After all, he trusted her.
Angelus stepped further into the room and gave Riley a sidewise glance. "Yeah, Riley," he spat the words out distastefully, "I'm cool."
"There's no need for un-pleasantries," Giles spoke up, quite perplexed at Angel's rude behavior. He noticed alarmingly, however, that Spike was now leaning forward with interest, and that he wore a rather wicked smirk on his face.
"Spike?" Angelus was shocked at the sight of his childe seated casually amongst the Slayer's friends. He remembered then the story that Willow had told his souled self about Spike's implant, and realized that Riley must be one of the men that was responsible. His dislike rose yet another notch.
"Angelus," Spike rose to his feet, still smirking, "Never thought I'd see the day you'd be back."
"Angelus?" Xander and Buffy spoke at the same time.
"Come on you blokes!" Spike practically shouted, "Now I know I was right! You really are losing your touch, Slayer. Any idiot could tell that there is no soul in that body!" He fell into a fit of laughter as Buffy, Giles, Xander, and even Anya turned startled eyes on him.
"Never could fool you, could I, Spike?" Angelus laughed aloud with his childe, fully enjoying the expressions on everyone's faces.
"But...how?" Buffy whispered the words.
"Aww, poor Buffy," Angelus mocked, "I'm sure you remember how."
Buffy's face turned pale at his words, but she couldn't bring herself to voice the question that was playing in her mind.
"You're wondering who, aren't you?" Angelus never imagined he'd get this much of a kick out of his unexpected trip. "Well, let me paint a portrait for you and see if you can't guess," he began, moving slowly and positioning himself so that he could keep an eye on everyone in the room. He got an odd sensation suddenly, a prickling along the back of his neck and a slight haze in his mind, but he shook it off firmly and continued. "Young, pretty, innocent, sparkling green eyes, red hair like flame, a witch, grew up here in Sunnydale, actually--"
"You lying bastard," Buffy spat the words with venom, her tone dark and dangerous.
"Ah, but flattery won't change facts. And the fact is that I *really* enjoyed myself," Angelus grinned wickedly.
"What have you done to Willow?" Xander's voice bordered on hysteria as he prepared to charge the vampire.
The mention of Willow's name brought that eerie feeling back, but Angelus was determined not to be daunted. "Question is, how have I done Willow?" Angelus retorted. That was too much for Xander. Losing what semblance of self-control he had left, Xander rushed at Angelus, stake poised in hand. He was, of course, no match for the vampire, who quickly grabbed him in a chokehold, forcing him to drop the stake, before Buffy had a chance to react.
"Let him go!" Anya shouted at him next, both enraged and frightened at the predicament her boyfriend was in.
"Make me," Angelus sneered.
Spike, meanwhile, had maneuvered his way to the door to get a better look at Angelus' companion. The face that stared back at him was one he had never expected to see. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed in a whisper. After all, he didn't want to ruin the party. "Jaufien?"
"William the Bloody," Jaufien smiled at the new twist.
"You've heard of me?"
"What vampire hasn't?"
"Well, I go by Spike now," he puffed out his chest with an inflated ego.
"Is that so? Well, Spike, care to invite me to join in the fun?" Jaufien shot him a conspiratorial smile.
"By all means," Spike gave him an invitational wave and returned his look, "come on in."
Jaufien entered into the house and noticed that the boy that had been called Riley had pulled out some sort of stun ray, and was aiming it at Angelus. Growling, and in game face, he snatched the weapon away and threw it to Spike, then grabbed Riley in a similar hold to the one Angelus was using on the dark-haired boy.
"That's enough!" he bellowed, causing the remaining three occupants of the room to turn around, startled.
"Riley!" Buffy yelled, fear evident on her face.
"Would you like your boyfriend back alive, Slayer?" Jaufien taunted. When Buffy remained silent, he exchanged a look with Angelus, who was the next to speak up.
"Look, Buff," he tried to sound reasonable, "you'll get your new boy toy and the weakling here back safe and sound so long as you do exactly as I tell you."
"Which is?" Buffy gritted her teeth in frustration.
"Give me the Sword of Gwydeon," Angelus stated his demand as if it was simplest, most obvious thing in the world. Behind her, Buffy heard Giles emit a startled gasp, and she turned to look at him.
"Giles?" she asked.
"The Sword...what possible reason could you have to--" he was cut off impatiently by Angelus. "That's for me to know, and you to find out," he used the old cliche. "Now I want it, or else these two rather useless young men are going to die."
"You heard him!" Anya snapped, glaring at Buffy, "just give them the damn sword!"
Buffy exchanged a tearful look with Riley, who felt like he was caught in an iron grip, then turned back to Giles. "Give it to them," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.
"But Buffy--" Giles' protest died on his lips as he took in the fearful expressions on the boy's faces. That's all they were, really, he told himself. Boys. And in a time not so long ago, they would have been his responsibility. In a lot of ways, they still were. He nodded his head and knelt before now vacated couch. Lifting his sleeves, he pulled out a long box that was well concealed by the furniture as a solemn silence descended upon the room.
Giles slowly opened the box and lifted out a medieval-looking sword, that, even in the dim artificial light, seemed to glow with an indescribable aura. The blade itself was slightly shorter than most, allowing for faster attacks, and the edges gleamed freshly, despite the years it had been sealed away in its cover. The hilt was simple in its design, but some unknown carvings were etched along one side. Giles removed the scabbard as well, a beautiful crimson color adorned with small jewels and intricate patterns, and sheathed the sword inside.
"Let Xander go first, and I'll hand you the sword," he informed Angelus, stepping closer. Angelus exchanged another look with Jaufien, and saw him tighten his hold on Riley. Smiling, he shoved Xander to the ground and reached for the sword, taking it from Giles' grasp.
Moving towards the door, he swept the room with a glance and said, "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? Kill him," he gave the order to Jaufien, who, despite his seniority, moved to obey.
"No!" Buffy yelled in terror, moving forward with lightening speed and striking Jaufien in the side with her heel. The ball of her foot, however, landed firmly in Riley's side as well, and he doubled over in pain. The sudden shift of weight caused Jaufien to loosen his grip as Buffy wrenched Riley from his arms and dumped him unceremoniously on the ground. She lunged once again at Jaufien, and was surprised to find that he easily evaded her attack. The two were paused in fighting stances as a familiar voice called from the doorway, "Buffy! Wait!"
She turned her head to see Willow, Cordelia, and an unknown man standing there.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"Willow?" Xander called out from where he had just scrambled hastily to his feet. Willow gave him a nervous glance, but didn't respond. Instead, she turned back to Buffy, but found that no words would come to her mouth.
"Isn't this touching?" Angelus realized why he had felt uneasy earlier, but decided to make the most of it. He came to stand next to Willow and drew her into his embrace. "You've come to back to rectify your mistake?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.
"Let go!" she shoved him aside forcefully, but to no avail. Doyle ran forward, and threw himself on Angelus' back, a move that would have been comical if the situation weren't so volatile, and tried to force him to the ground. Doyle could feel his demon half begin to creep its way to the surface, and an internal battle waged within. He knew that if he let it out, he'd be in a much better position to help battle Angelus, but he also knew that Cordelia had no idea of what he was. And even now, his thoughts were on her.
Angelus let go of Willow roughly and struggled to dislodge the smaller man from his position. Buffy used the opportunity to renew her attack on the unknown vampire that had threatened Riley, and in that moment, all hell broke loose.
Buffy and Jaufien erupted in a fierce battle, with Buffy receiving most of the blows. Riley staggered to his feet and joined in, determined to help despite his obviously broken ribs. Giles grabbed Xander and Anya and motioned for them to help him drag out his weapon cache, and the three ran quickly to the back of the room. Doyle finally managed to subdue his demon, and Angelus finally broke free. Cordelia attempted to throw a vase at his head, but Angelus ducked just in time and instead grabbed her and threw her to the opposite side of the room and out of the way. Spike, however, was the only one unaffected as he leaned casually against the wall, taking in the battle.
Cordelia landed with a loud crack as her head slammed into the wall, and Xander turned in horror. Leaving the trunk only half dragged out, he ran to Cordelia's side and cradled her head in his lap, trying to gauge the extent of her injuries. Anya shot him a deadly glare, but continued to help Giles. The two of them finally managed to drag the trunk completely out of its hiding place.
Doyle glanced over and saw that Cordelia was being tended to. He breathed a sigh of relative relief, then saw that Angelus that grabbed Willow once again. Willow was struggling to get out of his grasp, and Doyle went to help once again.
"Stop! Freeze! Stake yourself!" Willow yelled alternately, along with a few other commands to try and gain control of Angelus. Predictably, none of them worked. Willow grumbled to herself about her miserable timing, then suddenly felt the weight that had her pinned pulled away. She turned and saw that once again Doyle had come to her rescue. He really had been spending too much time with Angel.
Willow smiled slightly and concentrated on the demon. She knew that she had power over it, if only she could tap into it...Willow was startled when she felt a sudden surge of energy in her body--the same energy that she felt whenever she was angry or frightened. It was like adrenaline. Suddenly Willow realized where she had gone wrong all those times, but she refused to dwell on it. Letting the emotions build and swirl inside of her, she prepared herself to unleash what she knew would be her most powerful command yet when a new figure emerged in the doorway and screamed in terror.
Unfortunately, Angelus got to her first.
"Tara!" the command died as Willow saw Angelus grab her friend by the throat. Both she and Doyle froze, unsure of what to do next.
Meanwhile Buffy had been trying her best to fend off the attacks of the other vampire, but she wasn't very successful. It was obvious to her that this was an extremely experienced vampire, and Riley had already been sent to the ground more times than she could count. The last time, he hadn't gotten up again. Buffy refused to let her eyes wander to his prone form as she went on the defensive yet again. Her strength was wearing thin, she was getting tired, her attacks were getting sloppy, and they both knew it.
"Give up yet, Slayer?" Jaufien asked through clenched teeth. He'd never had a fight with a Slayer that had lasted this long. Even though he knew she was beginning to tire out, he had to admit to himself that we was, too. Her stamina and determination had earned her his grudging respect. But he was still going to kill her.
"I don't give up," Buffy hissed back, her breath now coming in shallow gasps. She was losing, and she knew it. Suddenly a small wooden arrow flew by her head and her eyes widened as she saw it lodge itself into the vampire's shoulder. She turned briefly and saw that Giles still had the crossbow aimed, and she gave him a weary smile. Unfortunately, turning was her mistake.
Jaufien recovered much quicker than either of them had expected, and in fury, he grabbed Buffy's hair and pulled back, causing her to cry out in pain. His hands came up to her head as he prepared to twist, which would effectively break her neck. His motion was cut off, however, by a terrified shriek from the doorway. He turned to see Angelus holding another blonde woman he had never seen before. But she had energy surrounding her that was practically tangible. He smiled to himself as he realized that he was on the verge of getting exactly what he wanted. The Slayer could wait.
Throwing her to the floor, Jaufien hurtled the couch in his way and bent down swiftly to snatch up the sword that was lying almost forgotten on the floor. He came to stand next to Angelus and said, "Let's get out of here. And bring the girl."
Angelus looked at his elder for a moment, and saw that he was serious. Shrugging, he called out, "We'll finish this another time, Willow," pointedly ignoring the Slayer. Getting a better grip on the unknown girl, he exited the house. Jaufien sent Spike a glance, then followed, the Sword of Gwydeon firmly in his grasp.
"Well that was certainly the most entertainment I've had in months!" Spike called out. "Boy am I glad I was here! Well, ta-ta folks! Can't say its been fun, but I can say I've just found something a whole lot better!" And with that, he, too, slipped out into the night.
The remaining inhabitants of the room stared at the now vacant doorway in stunned silence. Everyone was frozen in their places, themselves unsure of what had just happened. Cordelia finally began to stir, and mumbled something incoherent, bringing both Xander and Doyle's attentions.
Doyle ran to her side and asked, "You okay?"
"Doyle?" Cordelia sat up slowly, then looked to her left and straight into the concerned face of Xander. "Xander? What happened?"
"Good question," Buffy finally recovered herself, "one that I think the three of you need to answer. Now."
"Um," Doyle stood up and cleared his throat, "so yer Buffy, huh? Fancy meetin' under these circumstances."
"And you are?" Buffy's voice was curt at best.
"I'm Doyle," he stuttered nervously. Angry Slayers were not something to mess around with, "I'm a friend o' Angel's."
"Is that so? You were such a good friend you let this happen to him?"
"Buffy, it's not his fault!" Willow tried to calm her friend down.
"That's right," Buffy turned on her, instead, "it's not. It's *yours.* How could you?"
"Buffy, I..." Willow couldn't form the words.
"You're what? You're sorry?" Buffy stepped closer to her. "Don't you even dare try and apologize to me. You knew what would happen and you did it anyway!"
"I know, Buffy, but please! You don't understand! I honestly thought it was the only way--"
"Oh, I understand all right. You're feeling so inadequate over Oz that you think you need to go out and prove your womanhood and you end up sleeping with my boyfriend!"
Willow was shocked at the words. She had just assumed that Buffy knew the real reason. Obviously, Angelus had had other plans.
"Buffy, no. It wasn't like that--"
"Boyfriend?" Riley cut her off, "Buffy, *I'm* your boyfriend."
Buffy whirled around as Riley staggered to his feet, then rushed to his side after seeing that he was about to collapse again.
"No, Riley. I didn't mean--" she began.
"You dated a vampire?" he asked. The disgust in his voice caused Buffy to flinch as tears threatened to fall.
"You have to let me explain--" Buffy tried again.
"I've heard enough," Riley wrenched free of her arm, but lost his balance and fell onto the couch, groaning in pain.
Buffy turned furious eyes onto Willow, but her voice was cold and barely above a whisper, "Get out," she told her.
"Buffy--" Willow felt the panic rise in her chest. If only she could explain!
"I said get out!" Buffy's voice cracked suddenly, pitched on the edge of hysteria. "All three of you! Out! Now!"
Doyle helped Cordelia to her feet, then gave the unwilling Willow a reassuring glance. With tears spilling down her cheeks, Willow turned and followed Doyle and Cordelia out the door.
End Part 15
"I think this is the first time I was ever extremely grateful for the fact that my parents were never home," Willow sniffled slightly as she unlocked the front door of the structure she had called home for nearly eighteen years. After a few minutes of poking around, she, Cordelia, and Doyle had come to the conclusion that no one was inside the darkened house, which was a relief, since it gave them a place to stay for the night without having to pay for rooms.
Willow hadn't even realized that the key to her home was still hanging on her key chain after nearly a year, but she was grateful that it was. After the fiasco with Buffy, she really didn't feel like ending up on the street, and they couldn't risk going back to Los Angeles. So she had offered Cordelia and Doyle her home--providing, of course, that her parents were nowhere in the vicinity. At least Lady Luck hadn't abandoned them completely.
"Cheer up, lass," Doyle tried his best to put a positive spin on the situation as they entered the house, "they say that bad luck only happens in threes."
Cordelia shut the door behind her as she spoke, "Well, let's see here. Number one: Angelus came back. Number two, Angelus came to Sunnydale. Number three...to be announced," she added the last part in despair.
"Thanks, Doyle, but I really didn't need an old saying reminding me that its going to get worse before it gets better," Willow smiled at him tiredly.
"Just tryin' ta help," Doyle shrugged his shoulders, his face becoming serious and betraying the dark circles under his eyes for the first time. Obviously, he, too, had spent many nights wondering and worrying helplessly.
Willow sighed, "We may as well get tucked in for the night. Follow me." After leading the two upstairs, Willow and Cordelia said goodnight to Doyle after showing him to the guest room.
"You can stay in my room, if you like," Willow offered, "and I can take the daybed across the hall."
"I'll take the daybed," Cordelia offered in what she knew to be one of her rare moments of visible kindness, "you deserve a good night's sleep."
"Thanks," Willow had led Cordelia to the room, then turned to go, but the brunette stopped her. "Buffy'll come around, you know."
Willow looked back the woman, smiled a little, and said, "I hope so. But I can't really blame her."
"Things aren't gonna stay this bad forever. You'll see. I think we just both need our beauty sleep right now...of course, some of us more than others."
Willow gave Cordelia an impulsive hug then went back to her room and threw herself onto her bed. It had been a long time since she'd slept here, and her mind instantly began longing for the relative simplicity of high school. Well, at least of her freshman year. Before Buffy, before Angel, before Angelus, before Oz. When it was just her, Xander, and Jesse--the three musketeers against the world. The thought made her smile a little, but she knew that no matter what happened, she wouldn't have traded the past four years for anything in the world--not even a quick fix to the problems at hand.
With that thought, Willow Rosenberg closed her eyes and was claimed by sleep.
***
Heavy mist surrounded her, choking off her vision. She couldn't tell where she had been, where she was, or where she was going. There was brightness around her, but she saw no sun. Her feet felt light against the ground, like she was floating, and, for all she knew, she might have been. Willow Rosenberg could not see the ground.
She could, however, hear, and at that moment, a soft voice called her name. Willow turned around, trying desperately to locate the source of the voice. It was familiar, of that much she knew. And male. It could have been Xander, or, more likely, Oz. She had had so many dreams where Oz had come searching for her. So many dreams where he had come back to find her, to apologize, to explain, to tell her he loved her and he wanted her.
But this voice was clearly not Oz's, and the dreamscape was entirely different. It was almost as if there was no dreamscape--only an abyss filled with sheer nothingness.
"Willow!" the voice was closer this time, frantic, desperate, apologetic.
"Who are you?" Willow called out, trying to discern a shape.
"Willow," the voice seemed to be a breath away, and Willow was finally able to recognize it. It was the same voice that had plagued her nightmares for days now.
"Angel?" Willow responded, confused and slightly angry. The name sparked something in her memory, but she couldn't bring it to the forefront. "Or Angelus?" she whispered the last part to herself, unsure of what was going on. One thing was for certain--this was no ordinary dream.
"Not Angelus," the voice came from behind her, and Willow whirled around to find herself face to chest with Angel--or so she hoped. "I'm not Angelus," he told her upon seeing the spark of fear enter her shimmering eyes.
She returned his gaze and stared into his eyes, feeling the elusive memory fight its way to the forefront of her mind. And suddenly, she was standing on that dark road again with Angelus peering intently at her...only it wasn't Angelus. The eyes were the same, then and now, but they weren't the eyes of the demon. Angel's eyes had shone from his body that night, but that was impossible...
"Angel?" she asked again, her eyes still glued to his. He nodded his head. "How?"
"I can't explain it. But I'm here..."
Willow found herself brimming with unexplained joy. Angel wasn't lost from the world! There was still hope! She threw herself into his arms, weeping, apologizing, shaking. Angel held her close, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing words of comfort.
In that moment, the dream-like quality of the experience shattered and Willow and Angel found themselves embracing in a dark dungeon. The mist had vanished, and with it all semblance of peace. The coldness of reality pressed down like a heavy weight against them, and they pulled apart reluctantly.
Angel cursed under his breath while Willow looked around in wonder and fear. "Where are we?" she looked back at the figure in front of her, "what happened?"
"We're in my head," Angel offered wryly. He looked at her with a guarded glance of amazement, but Willow caught it anyway.
"What?" she barked, her earlier happiness evaporating.
"Only with you," Angel just shook his head.
"Only with me what?" Willow put her hands on her hips, staring at the man before her. Her eyes, however, dropped their gaze a few inches as an unexpected movement caught her attention. Angel's chest was rising and falling and rising again in a rhythmic pattern.
"Angel! You're breathing!" she exclaimed, her eyes locking with his once again. When he offered her no explanation, she poked his chest with her first two fingers, then used the same fingers to trace a path to his jugular. Placing them firmly over his pulse point, Willow nearly fainted when she felt a slight thrumming. "You're alive!"
Angel gently removed her fingers from his throat and shook his head. "I may be, but my body isn't."
"I don't understand," Willow allowed her hand to remain in his.
"Like I said--you're in my head. Or, Angelus' at least. When you fell asleep, I figured it was the best time to try and contact you, to let you know that you're not alone--that I'm still here in some ways."
"What?"
"Just let me explain. When you fell asleep, I took control of your subconscious to prevent you from dreaming and drew you into the astral plane, to talk to you. I tried before, but the first few times, I wasn't sure how. Then your dreams--and nightmares--came on too strongly, and I couldn't control them. Once you were caught up in them, there was no way for me to get to you."
"Let me get this straight," Willow's mind began churning, "you can only talk to me when I'm not dreaming?"
"Essentially, yes. When a person falls asleep, or enters into a trance, they end up in one way or another on the astral plane. Once a dream hits them, though, they get drawn back into their own mind, into their own subconscious. They're no longer accessible," Angel tried to explain.
"So when I wasn't dreaming, you called out to me?"
"Right. But now, for some reason, instead of retreating back into your own mind, you've ended up in mine."
"But...how?" Willow was flabbergasted. Was this what Angel's mind was like? Dark, cold dungeons? Emptiness?
"I don't know. The bond, I guess," Angel looked down at their two hands that were clasped together, her left and his right. And for the first time, he noticed that they were held together by more than just entwined fingers. There was a thin chain encircling both their wrists. At Angel's prolonged silence, Willow, too, looked down at their hands and gasped in shock.
The link wasn't tangible--it was barely even visible, but it shimmered in the darkness with a light that Willow couldn't explain, shifting each second. It never seemed to be the same shape, the same length, the same color, the same pattern. Willow blinked and it was gone.
Pulling her hand away, she cradled her wrist in close to her, then looked down again. The image was back, different once again, and still glowing ever so slightly. "This is...the bond?"
"I suppose," Angel's voice was as mystified as her own.
"And we're in your mind--or Angelus' mind?"
"Mine, yes, but Angelus', too. The demon is in control right now."
"The demon? So what does that make you?" Willow was almost afraid of the answer.
"The soul. For some reason, I never left my body," Angel said the words so calmly, so...acceptingly. Willow found herself wondering once again if this was Angel's reality. When the real reality slammed down on him, as hers had done so often, was this what he retreated into? Where she had found solace and comfort in her thoughts and memories--in her mind--was this what Angel found awaiting him? She couldn't stand the thought of it.
"We have to find out what's going on--and how *I* get back into my own mind!" Willow exclaimed, feeling lost. How would she get back to herself, when she didn't even know how she got into Angel?
"We will," Angel promised her. Seeing that she was on the verge of collapsing, he drew her into his arms again and supported her weight effortlessly, cursing himself as he had done so many times for allowing Willow to be brought into all of this. "I give you my word, Willow. We will put an end to all of this."
Willow buried her face in his chest and let the tears fall.
End Part 16
Willow finally managed to gain a handle on her cascading emotions and drew away from Angel slightly, sniffling back the last of her tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered upon seeing the huge water stain on his shirt.
"I'm the one who's sorry, Willow," Angel told her, "I never should have dragged you into this mess."
"I'm glad you came to me," Willow chose her words carefully, "but I just wish that you had *listened* to me when I told you to get help from Buffy. Things could have turned out...better."
Angel caught the slight crack in her voice at the mention of Buffy's name, and his heart constricted once again. He'd seen everything that Angelus had done, and he could only imagine the repercussions on Willow. Not only had he endangered her life, but he'd nearly torn apart the fabric of the strongest friendship he'd ever seen. "I know. And I'm sorry--but that doesn't seem to mean much anymore, does it?"
Willow was silent for a moment as she attempted to sort through her emotions. She was upset about everything that had happened in the past few days, and she was angry that Angel had been so stubborn and adamant about his convoluted plan. But she was also heartbroken to see the evident pain and remorse in her friend's eyes. However much she had been through, Angel had obviously struggled through much worse.
With more effort than she thought she would have needed, Willow let go of her anger and desperation and felt her heart soften for the broken man in front of her. It seemed she would forgive and forget once again, but this time, her kindness didn't irritate her. As she had told Angelus in what seemed like an eternity before, she wasn't a doormat. She merely believed that good people deserved a second chance--and a little love.
"Well, it means *everything* to me," Willow told him honestly, her voice reflecting the warmth she felt for him.
Angel smiled, a full-fledged smile with a hint of teeth, and grabbed Willow in a fierce hug. He clung to her for a few seconds, hanging on to her friendship for dear life, and wondered how he had ever managed to get so lucky. He breathed in her relatively fresh scent and found himself longing to feel her warm breath on his skin, to run his fingers through her silky hair, to spend eternity staring into the emerald depths of her eyes...
Shocked by the sheer yearning of his feelings, Angel drew away sharply. He reprimanded himself sternly, telling himself that once again he was perverting and destroying the innocence of the friendship and love this stunning creature was offering him. He turned away and cleared his throat, "We need to figure out what's going on--and how to get you back into your own mind, and me in charge of mine."
Willow, too, cleared her throat and answered, "Right. Exactly." She couldn't shake the feeling that something almost...intimate...had just passed through both her and Angel. She didn't understand the flush of feeling that had risen inside of her when Angel had hugged her, and she didn't know why she had marveled at the warmth of his breath on her neck. And yet, she couldn't shake the memory of Angel's eyes boring into hers just seconds before. There had been a spark of something in his eyes, and he had given her a look that was so reminiscent of the looks that Oz had given her before...when they were in love...
Quickly discarding that train of thought, Willow turned her attention to the most important matter and hand--getting things back to normal. Or at least as close to normal as possible. "What do you propose we do?" she asked.
Angel turned back to face her, then shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "If I had any ideas, I would have tried them already," Angel told her honestly.
"Oh. Well, I don't know either...oh! Wait! I have an idea!" Willow suddenly exclaimed, the pure energy in her voice reviving his spirits as well.
"What is it?"
"Have you ever seen that really old cartoon--'Captain N'?"
"No..." Angel trailed off, confused.
"Oh, well it was this really cool cartoon about this human guy that played *way* too much Nintendo and then one day got sucked into this alternate universe filled with characters from Nintendo games and he had to--"
"Willow!" Angel cut her off, afraid she'd go into an entire documentary. "The point?"
"Right. The point. Well, there was this one episode where they got sucked into a type of dream land, and they didn't know how to get out. So one of the characters--I can't remember if it was the main guy or Simon Belmont--you know the guy from Castlevania?--came up with the idea that since they fell asleep in order to get into the dream world, then maybe all they had to do was fall asleep to get *out* of the dream world." Willow looked pleased that she had finally been able to get to the point, but Angel had a look of utter amazement on his face.
"What?" she asked.
"It took you all of those words to say *that*?" Angel was incredulous.
"Well what was I supposed to say?"
"How about, 'since I fell asleep to get here, why don't I go to sleep to get out'?" Angel offered.
"Well excuse the other 2 billion people on this planet who aren't so...so...dry!"
"Dry?" Angel feigned outrage.
"Yes! Dry! And...and cryptic! And at a total loss for any conversations that last more than one minute!"
"Well, I think this conversation's been going on for a while, and, not to be arrogant, but I *have* been keeping up my end of it. It's not *my* fault that some people can fit a thousand words into one sentence."
"Hey! I'm not *that* wordy!"
"Ever timed yourself?" Angel couldn't keep the grin off his face.
"Ooh!" Willow fumed, "you're impossible."
At the look on Angel's face, though, Willow burst into a fit of laughter, clutching at her stomach when it began to hurt. "Who would have thought," she managed between alternate laughs and breaths, "that I'd ever get the chance to hear Mr. Soulful-Brooding-Cryptic-Mysterious-Vampire make a joke!"
"Come on, Willow. Not even 250 years is enough to earn that many names," Angel's voice was puzzled, but his eyes were shinning.
"But you don't deny that that's what you are?" Willow finally managed to control her laughter. After a week of stress and heartache, she had to admit that it felt good to laugh again.
"If it comes from you, how could I possibly deny it?" Angel had intended for the statement to continue their round of lightheartedness, but it seemed to emerge from his lips with a double entendre in tow and quite effectively settled a blanket of discomfort over them.
"I, uh," Willow attempted to shake the hidden meaning of Angel's statement from her mind, but was unsuccessful.
Angel kicked himself for his lack of social skills, then hurriedly tried to explain, "I didn't mean that the way it sounded..." Or did he? "I just meant that, well--"
"Now who's talking a thousand words a sentence?" Willow found something off-topic to latch onto and grabbed it, no matter how silly.
Angel looked immensely relieved for a moment, then spoke, "Well, I guess I'm learning then, aren't I?"
"Yeah," Willow smiled at him, knowing that the easiness of the earlier moments had gone, and nothing that either of them did would bring it back right then. "Well," she looked around, searching for some place to relax in, "you can't think up a luxurious room with a bed to go to sleep in?"
Angel looked as if he was going to say something, then shook his head. "Unfortunately, no," he finally said, "not now at least. But...how's this?" Willow watched him focus for a second, then seemed startled as a few pillows and blankets appeared before her. Angel caught her puzzlement and tried to explain. "Since I'm not technically in control right now, I can't change the scenery, but I am a part of this mind and I can 'dream' things up. You have to treat this place like reality, but you also have to remember that it isn't reality. Are you even more confused?"
Willow was silent, then looked up at Angel and said, "I think I'm just going to go to sleep. And when I wake up, hopefully I won't have to worry about it anymore."
"Good plan," Angel accepted the answer. "Here, let me help you." He waited as Willow settled herself on the floor, then tucked a pillow under her head and settled a blanket over her. "I'll take a nap, too, and maybe when *I* wake up, you won't be here anymore."
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Willow yawned in spite of herself.
"Trust me when I tell you that you will be sorely missed." Angel couldn't help but notice how cute she looked when she yawned.
"Hmm," Willow half mumbled, half snorted, her eyes already beginning to droop.
"Sweet dreams, Willow," Angel winced at the unlikeliness of those words, then kissed her forehead lightly. Willow merely nodded her head, and both their worlds went black.
***
When the heaviness of sleep finally began to lift from Willow's mind, she found herself feeling more alert and rested than she had in days. Willow rolled onto her back and stretched out her arms, hearing a few joints pop, then cracked her eyes open. Memory of the past events came flooding back to her as she took in her surroundings.
She was lying in her own bed, in her own room, in her own house. "It worked!" she exclaimed, forgetting that Doyle and Cordelia were supposed to be sleeping a few rooms from her.
"What worked?" a familiar voice spoke from its position next to her.
"What the...?" Willow looked down to see a very bedraggled Angel lying next to her.
"Do you know how sexy you look when you wake up?" he asked, propping himself onto an elbow. "Angel?" Willow was flabbergasted. How did he get here? "How did you get here?"
"I live here," he told her, "we're in *my* mind, remember?"
"But, but I'm at home right now! In my room!" Willow was more confused than ever.
"No, we're in the image I've created in my mind of your room," Angel told her patiently, a slight edge to his voice. An edge that Angel never had in his voice.
"You said that you couldn't change the scenery in your mind," Willow's mind filled with an awful suspicion as she got out of her bed and slowly backed to the door.
"Did I say that?" Angel, too, got up and traced her movements, "You must have misunderstood."
"No, I don't think I did." Willow flung open the door to her room and ran out into the hallway. The hallway that was there. If this was a creation of Angel's mind, how did he know what her hallway looked like? He had only been in her room...
Unfortunately, Angel was right on her heels, and before she could react, he scooped her into his arms and held her close. "You're wondering why your entire house is laid before your eyes, aren't you?" he whispered into her ear.
"No, I'm wondering what's gotten into you!" Willow yelled, struggling to get out of his grasp.
"Can't a guy show a pretty girl how much she turns him on?" he placed a light kiss in the hollow of her neck, and that was when it hit Willow.
His breath was cool.
"Angelus!" she hissed, feeling her anger rise. After elbowing him in the gut, Willow tried to use her momentum to push herself forward and out of his arms, but it was no use. He was far too strong. She glanced down and saw that the same link that had connected her to Angel was present now, between her and Angelus. Could it be that she had bound both soul and demon to her?
"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Angelus reached around and pinched her cheek, "you're so damn quick!"
"Let go of me!" she commanded with all her might, but to no avail.
"Sorry, Red, but your magick doesn't work here," Angelus told her.
"Angel," Willow whispered, feeling her body go limp.
"And Angel can't help you either. He's locked away right now," Angelus' voice was so smug that Willow practically ached to stake him right then and there.
"Guess again," the perfect mirror of Angelus' voice seemed to boom into her mind. The mirage of her hallway disappeared, giving way to the same dungeon she and Angel had fallen asleep in before. She really was still trapped here!
Angelus shoved her away suddenly, and when Willow finally regained her balance and turned around, her breath caught in her throat.
Soul and demon were preparing to face off.
End Part 17
"So it's come to this again, has it?" the demon sneered at his counterpart, obviously un-phased.
"Looks like," Angel retorted more out of reflex than of thought. He'd lost count of the number of times that this situation had taken place--the two of them battling for dominance. Fortunately, he had been the one in control all of those times, and that alone was probably the deciding factor. This time, he was fighting not to keep the demon at bay, but to gain control of himself. It was a much harder battle.
Angelus lunged for him, and in a split second, the battle had begun.
Willow watched on in a mixture of fear and horror--she'd never witnessed anything quite so brutal...so animalistic. Her emotions held her body paralyzed, but her mind began whirling at a thousand thoughts per second.
Angel--the soul--had said earlier that the reason that he hadn't left his body once the demon took over may have been in part because of the bond that had been forged between himself and Willow. But the demon was always there--even when Angel was in control.
Was that what Angel had meant all those times he had told them that he and the demon were inseparable? That no matter who was in control of his body, the demon would always be there? Could it be that the demon was now a permanent part of Angel? Was it really fair, then, to label the soul as "Angel" and the demon as "Angelus", when there was no real distinction between the two? But if there wasn't, how could the two be fighting right before her eyes?
A dozen other questions floated through her mind, and Willow felt a slight throbbing begin in her temples. She lifted her fingers to her head to try and massage away the feeling, but it persisted, gaining in intensity every second. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, hoping that it would help ease her worries. Images began to swerve in and out of her vision, behind her closed eyelids: images of her room, of Cordelia and Doyle. The memory of Oz's face right before he left flashed in her mind, but was quickly replaced by Buffy's angry look from the night before. The harsh words spoken rang loudly in her ears, and she felt her heart tighten.
A few moments passed, and Buffy's face melted into Angel's. He smiled at her, and Willow admitted to herself that Angel truly had a beautiful smile, and extended his hand. The astral version of the bond was present in the vision as well, shimmering with a bluish glow that seemed to call all attention to it.
Suddenly, Willow was not just seeing the images, but participating in them as well. She grasped Angel's hand, and together, they stood in a circle of protection. She looked into his eyes, and his features shifted momentarily into those of the demon. Lifting her hand, she stroked his face and the ridges disappeared, though Willow could still feel the presence of the demon deep inside the both of them.
The both of them.
Her eyes flew open suddenly, and the throbbing, which had been forgotten in the urgency of the visions, increased tenfold. Willow grabbed her head and cried in pain, feeling her body hit the floor.
Meanwhile, Angel struggled with the demon before him, feeling his disadvantage increase with each blow. Angelus was gaining on him, and he knew it. A round of punches landed on his midsection, sending him staggering back a few feet, and he never even saw them coming. He felt the demon grab his throat and lift him off his feet, then hurl him into space.
Angel landed with a loud crack against the wall of the dungeon that was the primary scene of the demon's mind. Pain shot through his body as he finally managed to gain control of his senses. Angelus advanced on him yet again, his face showing his extreme pleasure at the knowledge that he would win.
And suddenly, Willow's face flashed before his eyes. Angel felt as if she was standing next to him, her fingers entwined with his. A slight flutter of something unknown brushed against his cheek, and Angel swore that it felt like the touch of a delicate hand.
With renewed strength, Angel leaped to his feet and charged forward, attacking Angelus when he saw an opening. Bringing his fist up, he landed a solid uppercut to the demon's chin and heard a satisfactory snap in return. Using a backfist, Angel struck him across the temple, then brought his leg up in a sidekick to the solar plexus.
The combination--successively attacking three major pressure points--worked, as Angelus was forced to pause for a moment. Angel gathered his strength, preparing to use that moment to his full advantage, when he heard Willow suddenly cry out.
Turning his head, he glanced back at the redhead who had collapsed onto the floor.
"Willow!" he called out to her, but she didn't respond. Before Angel had a chance to go to her, Angelus recovered himself and tackled him, bringing the both of them to the floor.
As Angel struggled with his counterpart, he heard Willow whisper his name faintly. Using as much momentum as he could muster, Angel flipped himself on top of the demon and began dealing a round of blows to his head, intent on knocking him unconscious as quickly as possible then going to help Willow.
Willow felt as if her head would burst from the pain, yet at the same time, an odd numbness was spreading through the rest of her body. She heard a terrified scream in her head, the voice much like Cordelia's, then a distinctly Irish voice, then nothing.
Her world exploded suddenly into a flash of brilliant color shooting behind her eyes, and she screamed, falling into darkness.
Angel's head shot up at the shrill sound, and upon seeing Willow sink into unconsciousness, he propelled himself off his target and to Willow's side, covering the distance in less than a second.
"Willow!" he shouted, grabbing her small frame by the shoulders and shaking gently. "What's happened to you?" he asked, more to himself, upon seeing her pale skin and sweat-dampened forehead.
Mentally cursing himself for taking so long to go to her, and completely forgetting about the fight just moments before, Angel scooped his hands underneath Willow's arms and attempted to lift her off the floor.
That was, of course, until a sharp knee came crashing into the small of his back. Angel went down with an audible thud and rolled over to see Angelus, with blood oozing from cuts all over his face, sneering at him.
"Looks like your precious little witch finally got what was coming to her," he taunted, sending a sideways glance at Willow.
"What have you done to her?" Angel slowly got to his feet and positioned himself between Angelus and Willow's body.
The two glared at each other for a moment, then Angelus nodded his head. An unspoken and informal truce had been called.
"I haven't done anything," he retorted, "you did this one all on your own."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know, for a 250 year old vampire, you can be really dense. Duh! Has no one ever explained the laws of the astral realm to you?"
At Angel's blank expression, Angelus laughed aloud, a cold, nearly maniacal laugh. "Obviously not. Well, considering I've spent more time there than you have," he started with malice, then grinned almost conspiratorially. "You were the one that dragged poor Red into this place, but you couldn't get her back out. And now, well let's just say that since she's been away from her body for such a long time--she may as well be dead."
"You're lying," Angel immediately denied the explanation.
"Am I? Think about it," he crossed his arms over his chest and stared Angel straight in the eye.
He hated to admit it, but Angel had to consider the possibility that the demon was right. And if he was--then Angel became responsible for Willow's...death. Angel felt the weight of self-hatred begin to settle itself over his shoulders once more, but he fought if off with a visible effort. Willow wasn't dead. She couldn't be. If she was, he would *feel* it, wouldn't he?
"Willow's not dead," he told the demon, his voice filled with conviction.
Angelus merely shrugged and said, "Believe what you want." He looked at the prone form of the redhead for a moment, his expression unreadable. After a long silence, he returned his gaze to Angel and grinned broadly, though there was nothing warm nor friendly in his expression. "It looks like you've lost the battle, though. And you're about to lose a whole lot more."
With that, the figure of Angelus vanished, leaving a confused Angel and a still unconscious Willow behind.
Obviously, things were far from over.
***
Angelus awoke from the dream with a start. Looking around, he realized he was in the small hideaway that Spike had managed to create for himself after the unfortunate incident with the chip. Angelus chuckled to himself at the thought of his Spike unable to kill. It still cracked him up, though he couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Oddly, a part of him felt like his childe deserved it, especially after the incidents nearly two years before, when Spike had clobbered him over the head with a crowbar.
Bringing his attention back to the most pressing matter at hand, however, Angelus' mood quickly darkened. He pondered over the events that had taken place in his 'dream', but the more he thought about it, the more he didn't like it. Yes, he had finally beaten that pesky soul of his, but he still wasn't rid of it.
And then there was the matter of Willow.
What, exactly, had happened to her? And why did he even care? For that matter, why hadn't he killed her when he'd gotten the chance? Angelus had no answer for these questions, and he didn't like that fact at all.
He got to his feet just as Spike entered the room.
"Well, look who's finally decided to get up off his lazy ass," Spike muttered.
"Well, if it isn't the vampire that got himself kidnapped by a bunch of scientists," Angelus retorted.
"At least I've never had a soul."
"At least I've never had a chip in my head."
Spike grinned broadly despite the insults and clapped Angelus on the back.
"Oh, it really is good to have you back, mate!"
"Gee, I never would have guessed, considering the last time I was here you turned on me," Angelus said darkly.
"Eh, that was then, this is now. I'm a reformed vampire, I am. And besides, you're a whole lot better than nancy boy, I'll tell you that."
"You just figured that out?" Angelus found his mood brightening despite himself.
Spike snorted slightly as he pulled a cigarette out of his coat pocket and lit it. "So, what havoc have you and Jaufien been planning?"
"Why should I tell you? So you can go and cut a deal with the Slayer again?"
"At least I never shagged her. But come on! I've been bored out of my mind here with nothing horribly evil to be scheming," Spike confessed. "Hell, I even resorted to your specialty of mind games--though I have to admit, you were on to something there."
"Aren't I always?"
"You never get over yourself, do you?"
"Tell me something," Angelus abruptly changed the subject, "What's been going on with the Slayer and her friends anyway?"
Spike, who had become used to Angelus' quick-silver mood shifts, wondered what had suddenly inspired that particular question. "Why do you ask?"
"Curiosity," Angelus shrugged his shoulders.
Spike's eyes narrowed for a second, but he answered the question anyway. "Well, Slutty found herself a new boy toy, as I'm sure you already know. She and Peaches had quite a confrontation over it a few weeks back. Dander-boy's still shagging the ex-demon, the Watcher's retired, and, oh yes, Red's not exactly a straight arrow anymore."
"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Angelus asked.
"Let's just say that after wolf-boy took off, Red decided to have a gander at the something different. Though I can't really blame her. Her so-called friends weren't even there to help her through it."
"Spike!" Angelus admonished, "don't tell me you've got a soft spot for the witch."
"Bloody hell I don't! I can just...relate, that's all. Wolf-boy screwed her over, Dru screwed me over--it's a hard world out there, you know?" He took a final drag on his cigarette then threw it to the floor, snubbing it out with his toe.
"So tell me; who's the lucky lady?" Angelus questioned, surprised at the unexpected turn of events. After what he'd seen in Los Angeles, there was no way that Willow had gone off the beaten path. The image of the doppelganger flashed before him for a moment, and Angelus smirked. Well, who knew?
"Some blonde witch," Spike shrugged, seating himself on the makeshift couch. "Don't know much else. Why?"
"Well," Angelus seated himself next to Spike, "if she's as tight with Willow as you say, I certainly want to meet her."
Spike's eyebrows shot up at the remark and he asked, "What exactly happened between Peaches and Red in Los Angeles, hm? Because I'm not buying the fact that the two of *them*, of all people, decided to share beds."
Angelus merely laughed, "That, Spike, is a story for another night."
End Part 18
"I can't believe this is happening," Buffy's voice was filled with raw pain and guilt as she stared hauntingly at the comatose figure of her best friend. "Willow...I'm so sorry," her voice cracked and a tear slipped from her cheek, falling unnoticed onto Willow's hand.
"How is she?" Giles asked, poking his head into the hospital room. Cordelia had called him about Willow a few minutes ago, and he had practically raced to the hospital, driving at speeds previously unknown to his old Citron.
"In a coma," Riley answered, holding the door open wider for Giles so that he could enter, "the doctors say that it doesn't look good, and worst of all, they don't know what caused it."
"What happened?" Giles' question was now directed towards Cordelia and Doyle, who were standing a few feet away from the others.
"She just didn't wake up," Cordelia told him, her eyes never leaving Willow's face. "We thought that maybe she was just tired, so we let her sleep. But she didn't wake up."
"Was there any sort of indication at what had happened?" Giles prodded further, completely bewildered. What reason could there be for a young, healthy woman to go to sleep one night and then slip into a coma? It didn't make any sense. He took his glasses off and absentmindedly began to clean them in an attempt to release the nervousness and fear that had suddenly built up inside of him.
"There was nothin'," Doyle answered the question, seeing that Cordelia was obviously more shook up than she had originally let on. "No scream, no spasm, no twitching, no paling of color, no temperature, nothin'. It just looked like she was sleeping. Finally, at some time in the afternoon, we tried to wake her up, and she didn't respond. Cordy here practically yelled her lungs off, we splashed water on her face, even threatened to put a frog on her bed--somethin' Cordy came up with--but no response. We finally called an ambulance, and once the doctors checked her out, they said she was in a coma. They couldn't explain what the reason was, though."
"They took a whole bunch of tests," Xander spoke from his position opposite Buffy, next to Willow's bed. His voice was soft, and Giles' heart went out to him. He looked at the young man's face, and noted how pale his skin was. Buffy looked as if she was in much the same state. Giles then looked at the other occupants of the room--anywhere but at Willow. He couldn't see her, not yet.
Riley was standing by the door, his worried gaze shifting back and forth between Buffy and Willow. Giles figured that he probably hadn't gotten to know and love Willow as well as the rest of them, but he was still glad for his presence.
Doyle and Cordelia had resumed watching steadfastly at Willow, as if the sheer power of their gazes would force her to wake up. He hadn't noticed it the previous night, but there were dark circles around their eyes, and their demeanors were those of people who had been dealing for far too long with circumstances out of their control.
And finally, his gaze rested on Willow. His throat tightened as he took in the IV's that were coming out of her arms, the monitor on the side wall that was beeping in tune with her heartbeat, and the life support system that was tucked into the corner of the room, waiting with offered assistance if needed. He gazed at her face for a few moments and noticed the almost peaceful look that graced her features. Wherever she was, it was probably preferable to the hell she had left behind.
How could he have been so blinded? How could they all have been? Whatever had happened in Los Angeles, it had obviously taken its heaviest toll on Willow and Cordelia and Doyle. But they had refused to see that. When the three of them had shown up in Sunnydale on Angelus' heels, had showed up at his home, it was a plea for help. But they hadn't cared about that. They had only cared about what Angelus' return would mean for them, and their fear at the prospect had turned into anger at the three youngsters. Sure, he hadn't been the one to banish them out of his house, but he hadn't stopped it either. He had failed to be the voice of reason. He had failed to understand what Willow had gone through--wasn't that what fathers were supposed to think of first? Yes, he had always considered Willow as a daughter to him--his protegee--and he had failed her in the worst possible way.
"I hate to interrupt," a new voice called from the doorway, "Ms. Rosenberg needs all the friendly company she can get right now, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
The six occupants of the room turned to look at the doctor that had admitted Willow into the hospital. "Excuse me?" Giles asked, startled..
"Visiting hours are over for tonight," the doctor explained, "and Ms. Rosenberg needs her rest. You're welcome back bright and early tomorrow morning, if you'd like."
"Oh, of course," Giles nodded his head. "Can I ask you of your opinion on her condition?"
The doctor was silent for a moment, then responded, "Well, as I'm sure you all know, Ms. Rosenberg was admitted to the hospital about two years back, also in a coma. Now it's highly unusual for a patient to fall into a coma twice, and since we have no obvious cause for this relapse, we have to assume that her state is worse than the tests show."
"What are you saying?" Riley asked.
The doctor took a deep breath, then answered, "That you must be prepared for the possibility that she may not wake up."
At this news, both Buffy and Cordelia broke down completely, and Riley and Doyle found themselves automatically comforting them. Xander just stood where he was, looking as if he wanted to say something, but unable to for fear of losing all control over his emotions. Giles, too, found that he couldn't speak, and the doctor sighed in sympathy.
"I know that this is a hard piece of news, and I suggest that all of you go home now and get some rest. If you'd like, the hospital can arrange for you to be driven home..."
"That's okay," Riley told the man, "and thank you...for being honest with us."
The doctor merely nodded his head and watched with solemn eyes as the troupe of friends slowly filed out of the room.
***
He knew she'd be here. He'd known it since he'd informed that pesky soul of his that Willow had been away from her body for too long. He'd known it because he could *feel* her, feel her presence around him, inside him. And it wasn't because the conscious part of her, which was trapped on the astral plane, had somehow become linked to his mind. It was because of the bond. That damn bond that the witch had put on them when he'd taken her soul. Or so he told himself.
He'd found her without a problem--it seemed that he could to that with ease now. He'd known exactly which room she was lying in, and it certainly hadn't been a problem getting in. He'd just wanted to see her in the flesh.
Angelus stepped closer to the hospital bed, and he looked around in complete distaste at all the machinery that was beeping and whizzing around him. He looked at the tubes that had been inserted into Willow's arms, but even all of this couldn't keep him from admiring her beauty.
He thought back with utter fascination at the memory of the doppelganger: her beauty and grace, power and deadly force. He'd bring that version of Willow to life in this dimension, and he would be the one to teach her and guide her on her path to sheer darkness. She'd be his most magnificent creation.
Angelus hated to think of how deeply he ached to make Willow his childe, but he knew that it was impossible to ignore that urge. The vision of her leather-clad double had haunted Angel's nightmares for months--the corruption of the very innocence that Angel had fought so hard to save in others--and had graced his dreams since he'd been back--her hypnotic gaze enticing and beckoning him.
He wondered briefly to himself how easy it would be to just turn her here and now--drain her sweet, exotic blood and claim her at that very moment. He imagined what it would be like to feel her warm essence run over his lips again, and to steal away with her into the night.
But that would take away all the fun.
He still hadn't gotten his revenge his on the witch--the mortal part. He wanted to see her eyes as he drained her, feel the fear come off her in waves, hear her beg for her life--or better yet, hear her scream. He wouldn't give up on that satisfaction, and so Angelus resolved himself to wait. After all, he had eternity, and soon, so would Willow. They would have eternity together.
He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek, brushing the hair away from her face as he did so. He trailed his fingers along the curves of her face and down her throat, letting them pause ever so slightly on her pulse point. It was weaker than it should have been, but he could still feel the blood rushing beneath.
Angelus leaned down and brushed his lips over hers, then placed a gentle kiss over her pulse point--a silent promise that sometime soon, his lips would return to that very spot, and he'd claim what was his.
After placing a single red rose on her pillow, he gave her one last caress before slipping out into the night.
***
"Well, look who's decided to finally grace us with his presence," Jaufien stated sarcastically to Spike.
Spike smirked back at him and replied, "If it isn't the big bad wolf."
"Very funny, Spike," Angelus mocked as he entered the crypt, "and what have you two been up to?"
"Preparing to gather the second ingredient for our...plan," Jaufien answered casually.
"I see," Angelus turned his attention to the still unknown blonde girl sitting tied to a chair to his left. "The witch."
"And not just any witch," Spike chirped conspiratorially. "You remember when you asked me about Red's...extracurricular activities?"
"You're kidding!" Angelus broke out into a huge grin and gave Tara another glance. "Her? I thought Red had better taste than that! Of course, it does explain why she showed up at the Watcher's house last night."
"Seems the little girl--Tara, she said her name was--believes that Willow and the Slayer are going to come save her," Spike's voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Is that a fact?" Angelus' eyes were gleaming now. "Well, I hate to be the one to break this to you *Tara*, but Willow? She's in a coma right now--the doctors say it's pretty bad. And as for the Slayer and her groupies, well they're a little too hysterical right now to be of any help to you."
Tara's eyes widened at his words and her fear increased tenfold.
"Now that that's been cleared up," Angelus continued sadistically, "shall we begin?"
***
"Willow, sweetheart, wake up," Angel's soothing voice finally penetrated the curtain of darkness. Willow groaned and lifted her head, finding herself lying in Angel's lap and staring into a pair of dark, concerned eyes.
"What happened?" she asked, her throat uncommonly dry.
"Exactly what Angelus said happened," Angel's voice was filled with guilt and sadness.
"What are you talking about?" Willow sat up now, her senses becoming alert once again.
"Take a look around you," Angel gestured.
Willow's eyes widened at what she saw. Gone was the dungeon that they had previously been imprisoned in, and all around them was the sense that they were standing in a dark crypt, taking to...Jaufien and Spike?
"What's going on?" Willow automatically fell back against Angel, her brain reeling at the feeling. This wasn't natural!
"Angelus has decided to give us an exclusive viewing of all of his actions," Angel spoke harshly, "to emphasize the fact that we're completely helpless."
"But it's so real," Willow whispered, looking around. Her view was limited to what Angelus saw, but it seemed as if she could almost reach out and grab Jaufien by the throat. She tried, but nothing moved except her own arm. It was like being trapped inside a glass room, watching everything happen outside, but not being able to influence it in any way.
"I don't understand," Willow was now standing on her own, and she shook her head in confusion.
"Angelus is planning something," Angel told her darkly, "and he wanted to make sure that whatever it was--both you and I would see it. He made sure I watched as he confronted you in the hospital room."
"Hospital room?!" Willow's eyes turned to his, and she found that Angel to be an unreal sight in this illusion.
She listened as Angel explained what had happened to her body, and she became paler by the moment. "This can't be happening," she told herself, "I'm going to wake up now, and this all going to be some sort of horrible dream!"
A muffled scream caused her to pull herself out of Angel's embrace and turn around. Before her was an image she had hoped never to see. Tara, bound to a chair and gagged, was staring in terror at her.
Or rather, at Angelus.
"Shall we begin?" he asked, smiling cruelly.
Angelus was going to kill her, and he was going to make them watch.
End Part 19
"Are we ready?" Jaufien asked, his voice a mixture of irritation and anticipation. He was so close to everything he needed for the final spell--just two weeks away. Then his century of searching would finally pay off.
"How many times do I have to tell you 'yes'?" Angelus responded, his exasperation clear. "I can assure you that there won't be a single glitch."
"Fine. Good," Jaufien turned away for a moment, then turned back, holding the small box that he had purchased in Los Angeles for the purpose of temporarily holding the magickal energy he'd need to perform the spell in two weeks. "Then let's begin."
"Finally some action," Spike grinned, "you have no idea how badly this bloody chip has screwed my unlife."
"More or less than Dru?" Angelus smirked back at him.
"Shut up," Spike muttered.
Angelus merely continued to grin as he turned his attention back onto the shaking Tara. "And as for you," he looked at her, "I'm afraid that it's all about to end."
"Y-you're going to k-kill me, aren't you?" she stuttered, still not quite sure what they were planning. They were vampires, she thought. Willow had told her about vampires, but she'd never imagined that she'd end up in this predicament. She knew she should do something--anything--to get herself out, but her emotions held her paralyzed.
"Can't get anything past you, huh?" Angelus snickered at her.
Tara felt a rush of anger flow through her, but she knew better than to respond. She watched with increasing doom as the three vampires silently formed a circle around her and doused the ground with a mixture of herbs that they had been mixing together for the past hour. The blond vampire threw a match into the liquid, and the spark set off a cloud of dark mist into the air. The stench filled her nostrils as they began chanting. She recognized a few of the words--magick, energy, capture, Evil, and finally, death.
She was going to die.
As the realization struck her, she began finally to struggle futilely, but the incantation had already taken effect. She could feel the energy slowly drain from her body, seeping out from every imaginable pore. She watched helpless, seemingly floating in a sea of suspension, as her life force was drained from her.
Then harsh reality brought her crashing back into herself as she felt each part of her body go cold in turn. Her muscles went limp and her eyelids drooped, and it was as if she could suddenly *feel* her bodily functions, was in tune with them for the first time. She felt the normally hot blood cool in her veins and begin to slow, her heartbeat following suit. Each new breath she took was more painful than the last, until finally, the pain was too much to bear. Her insides screamed in agony at the loss of function, but she couldn't voice her pain. Her brain refused to cooperate as it slowly sank into darkness.
And from the terrible vortex that seemed to be taking her entire being into it, Tara heard a shrill cry of grief, expressing the loss that she could not.
And then nothing.
***
Willow felt the aching sobs being torn from her throat as she watched Tara's body crumple from the inside, lifeless. Her friend was dead, and it was all her fault. She was standing here, staring out at the scene from Angelus' eyes, and she could do nothing to stop it. She felt as if she could reach out right then and stroke Tara's hair, but she knew that her proximity was only an illusion. An illusion created by Angelus to torment her even more.
She felt a solid weight come around her waist as she let her grief take over. Burying her face into Angel's shoulder, Willow cried out all of her unshed tears--tears for everything that she had lost these past few months, no, these past few years. Tears for everything she would still lose.
Angel tightened his grip on Willow as he felt her begin to shake in his arms. He found himself whispering soothing words of comfort to her, but they rang hollowly in his own ears, and he forced himself to remain quiet. This beautiful, innocent creature was being torn apart right here in his arms, and it was all because of him. He found that his throat had constricted even tighter than it had been just moments before, as he reflected on the fear and terror that had shone through the girl's eyes as her life was taken from her.
Because of him.
Another soul, added to the hundreds upon hundreds he'd already taken.
Another nightmare, in a string of countless nightmares.
Another face that would haunt him for eternity.
The view that Angelus had given to the two of them dropped away again silently, it's purpose completed, and was replaced once more by the all-too-familiar dungeon. Neither Angel nor Willow noticed, however, as each was caught in his own personal hell.
Willow dug her fingers into the sides of Angel's arms as she clung desperately to him for help. She felt as if she was drowning in a sea of emotion as the memories of all the events of the past few weeks came back to her. She ended with a strangled hiccup several minutes later, but even as she felt her shudders begin to die down, Angel's arms remained locked firmly around her.
"A-Angel," she croaked out, noticing for the first time the dampness of his black cotton shirt just under his shoulder, where her cheek had been resting moments before.
Angel tried to reply, but found that he couldn't control his emotions well enough in order to speak calmly. Willow, paying particularly close attention to his silence, pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes. What she saw made her feel like crying all over again.
The dark brown depths of his beautiful eyes were filled with a sorrow so deep and haunting that Willow felt like she was falling into an unending abyss. His jaw was set into an iron clench, but even that didn't stop the small quivers that escaped him. His lips were drawn thinly, and, looking down, Willow saw that every muscle in his body was tense.
But, ultimately, her gaze was drawn back to his face.
Plain and simple, Angel looked like he was reliving every moment he could remember as Angelus, and his countenance was a cross between an innocent child who had discovered for the first time that the world wasn't such a wonderful place to live in, and a grown, anguished, tortured man who had seen too many horrors to ever walk away from completely sane.
"Angel, please listen to me," Willow finally found a few scattered words in her brain. "What happened, what's probably going to still happen--it's not you." The words gave her a sense of deja vu, as if she had already stood here at some point in the past and had said these exact same words, as if she had been destined her whole life to say them.
"*You,* Angel, *you* are right here with me. We're here together. For you to blame yourself for what just happened is about as fair as you blaming me for what's just happened."
Her words seemed to knock some sense into him as the ever-chivalrous vampire shook himself out of his daze. "Are you crazy, Willow? None of this is, ever could be, your fault."
"Then by default, it isn't yours, either," Willow told him firmly, gently, "we're here together, Angel. Together. You had about as much power over what just happened as I did. If I couldn't have done anything--if this isn't my fault--how could you have done anything? How could it be your fault?"
"Together," Angel repeated the word softly, a look of longing shadowing his features.
"Yes, Angel," Willow brought her hand up to stroke his cheek softly, "together. You and me. Always. I could never blame you for something that you couldn't control. I could never hate you for anything that you did in the past. I could never hate you, period."
Angel felt tears sting his eyes as he heard the words. It seemed he had been waiting his whole life to hear and to feel what Willow was offering him right now. Solace. Comfort. Peace.
Forgiveness.
The heavenly creature before him had just lost her friend's life to the demon that had plagued her for weeks, the demon that wore his face. And here she was offering him his heart's desires.
Angel found himself entranced by Willow's emerald eyes as he stared into them, and instinctively, his own hand came up to cover the one that was still stroking his cheek soothingly. Wrapping his free hand tighter around her waist, he drew her into him as he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. His lips trailed down her left temple and settled over her cheekbone as he planted yet another kiss and inhaled her scent deeply. He turned his face into her hair for a moment, then turned back and continued his path down her jaw bone and to her chin. As he sucked her flesh briefly, he noticed Willow's lips part slightly, and instantly, his own lips were covering them.
Willow felt a bolt of energy shoot down her spine and into her lower abdomen at the sudden intimate contact. Goosebumps covered her flesh as she leaned more fully into Angel's kiss and felt his tongue glide swiftly over the back of her teeth, then pull out again. The pleasure and the passion that he was offering her was a welcome distraction from the problems exploding around them, and Willow responded to his advances with eager abandon.
Her arm snaked up and under Angel's shirt, stroking his smooth skin first in small circles, then increasing her range until she was inadvertently massaging the muscles between his shoulder blades.
Angel responded by deepening the kiss for a moment, then pulling his lips away, trailing a heated path down her throat and to her collar bone. He felt her heated body underneath his fingertips, muffled by the fabric of her blouse, and he ached to spread his palms flat over her skin and let her warmth radiate into him. As the muscles in his back were loosened by Willow's delicate fingers, Angel found himself deftly removing the buttons on Willow's blouse. Age-old techniques returned to him as he pushed the top of the blouse down over her shoulders and let his tongue explore and lick the smooth, soft skin that was revealed to him.
He pressed forward gently, insistently, and Willow leaned back slightly, allowing Angel to drape her back across his arm and lower her slowly to the ground, simultaneously removing her blouse. As her bare, heated back collided with the cold, hard surface, and Angel's weight pressed carefully against her, a new shudder of pleasure coursed through her body.
Angel watched for a moment, mesmerized, as Willow's short, fiery locks spread delicately around her head as she lay back, and as the reddish glow in her cheeks spread slowly down her throat and across her chest. He spread his hands out over the planes of her stomach and placed a kiss in the valley of her breasts. Her sweet essence filled his nostrils, mingling with the scent of her arousal, the combination intoxicating.
Willow's breaths came in shudders as she felt Angel's lips and tongue trailing a cool path across her flesh, and she tugged at the fabric of his shirt until she finally managed to pull it up over his head and off his body. Her hands explored the muscles along his sides and up his chest, massaging and soothing, finally coming to tangle themselves in his short, silky hair.
As Angel nudged his knee forward, parting her thighs, he looked into her eyes and found nothing but trust, passion, and love gleaming back out at him. Willow pulled his head down forcefully to hers and captured his lips in a demanding kiss, expressing without words her utter faith in him. Angel reciprocated the passion, showing her how desperately he craved her attentions, how much he longed for her, how much he felt for her. His fingers dipped below the waistband of her pants and a soft moan escaped her lips as liquid heat surged forward beneath his fingers. Angel's fingers exerted the slightest pressure as they continued their journey--
"Well what do we have here?"
--and were followed by a rush of cold air as the couple tore themselves away from each other, panting, flushed, and staring into the face of a practically glowing Angelus.
End Part 20