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Angel climbed down into the depths of the Hellmouth. The walls of the breech were jagged, providing numerous hand and foot holds for an easy decent. After around fifteen minutes of climbing, Angel felt a tingling sensation and then he found himself standing on a plain of volcanic rock, the land was barren, a mix of sharp edged obsidian and pumice studded with granite boulders. The sky was a hazy red and the air stank of sulfur.
A wave of betrayal, despair and shock inexplicably flooded Angel’s mind, but he could see the medallion he’d been sent to destroy not twenty meters away, glowing brilliantly in the gloom. Angel shook off the reasonless, debilitating emotions and studied his surroundings more carefully.
Yasar’s Medallion sat on a crudely hew alter of black basalt, guarded by one bored looking corsie demon. Angel moved behind one of the innumerable boulders that littered the plain, wincing at the sounds of rocks shifting and grinding against one another with each step. The corsie didn’t react; apparently the idea that it might be necessary for it to actually guard against intruders within the Hellmouth itself hadn’t occurred to the dim-witted creature.
Angel considered waiting here until the time of his retrieval was closer, but discarded it. At any moment the demon guarding the medallion could be reinforced or replaced with something more competent.
The vampire crept closer to his target. Moving silently over the red and black rocks was impossible, but he did his best, trying to keep boulders between himself and the corsie to prevent an inadvertent glance from betraying his presence.
Three meters from the medallion Angel gave up all attempts at secrecy and charged. He tackled the inattentive guard, slamming him back onto the inhospitable ground. The demon howled as sharp edged stones cut into his skin. Angel pounded the demon’s head repeatedly against the ground until it lay dead beneath him. Then the vampire stood, limping slightly from where his own legs had been cut from their contact with the ground.
Angel lifted the medallion from the altar and flung it to the ground. He picked up the shattered pieces and threw them as far as he could in various directions to be lost among the rocks and crevices of the plain. The last section he slipped into his coat pocket, hoping the entities of this dimension would waste valuable time trying to reassemble the medallion rather than hunting him.
That done he started off across the plain, wanting to be far from here when his actions were discovered.
A long while later Angel stopped. Leaning against a boulder he rested for a moment. Critically he examined the soles of his shoes, they were ripped and torn from crossing the harsh terrain. He’d be barefoot in short order. Angel shuttered at the thought of what this place would do to his unprotected flesh if he were forced to continue this game for too long. He’d slipped and fallen a few times already and every time this place had drawn blood.
In the distance Angel heard a furious howling and somehow he knew it meant that he had been discovered. Behind him Angel heard Buffy call him. Relieved at the timely end to this mission Angel turned and jogged toward the portal that had been opened for him. Through it he could see his friends and the demolished library.
“Angel, hurry!” Willow yelled in a strained voice. Alarmed Angel ran for the haven of Sunnydale only to have the portal close and disappear before his eyes.
For a moment all Angel could do was stare at the spot where his safe escape had been, then he laughed without humor, he had know this trip to Hell was going to be a costly mission.
The howl of the hunters was closer now. They had his scent. “No choice but to run,” Angel thought, even though he knew that this was futile.
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Angel scrambled across the blasted landscape. His memories of the last few months in Sunnydale, memories of his soulless demon tormenting Buffy and those she cared for, prompted him to simply wait for the hunters. To accept whatever punishment they choose to visit upon him. Angel felt anything that might be done to him, even here, would be deserved after what he’d done to the girl he loved. But the Vision forced him onward. Angel had seen Buffy, alone and miserable, and he had to go to her.
Escape from his tormentors had been ridiculously easy. Since arriving here Angel had passively allowed any torture his captures had devised, they couldn’t come close to matching the suffering he felt from the knowledge of what he’d done. His guards had quickly become lax and once the Vision had driven Angel to attempt escape it had been simple to accomplish.
Now Angel was coming to realize his freedom was an illusion. There was no way out of this place and the land itself hated him and ripped at his body as he struggled across it.
Behind him, as always, he could hear the hunters. They were always there, reminding Angel of his mother’s stories of the Wild Hunt. There was no refuge; no rest and the hunters were always there. If Angel stopped the leaders would be on him in minutes, then he would have to fight. If he kept running the terrain would slowly cut him to ribbons. His clothes already hung in tatters around him and his bare skin was streaked with his blood. His feet and hands looked like raw meat, even vampiric healing couldn’t keep up with the damage inflicted upon them.
It was getting harder to think rationally, the desperation of being hunted stole all thoughts but escape.
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Angel shivered at the feeling of de’vu; he already knew what it was like to be hunted here. “Maybe your memory’s finally coming back,” he thought bitterly.
As he fled the hunters, Angel knew deep down that it only amused them. They could catch him at any time but enjoyed the hunt. They would allow it to go on so long as he could move.
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Angel forced himself forward, moving on all fours like an animal. Terror and pain filled his mind to the exclusion of all else. The Vision was gone now, he only moved forward because he’d done so for so long. The demons crowded around him, clawing at his exposed skin if he paused for even a moment. Their gleeful laughter filled the air as they basked in his suffering.
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“This time is different,” Angel reminded himself, as the pain from his torn feet and hands ate at his determination. “They didn’t abandon me here. Something went wrong; they’ll fix it and try again. I’ve just got to last three days. I’m not alone here.”
Suddenly Angel froze; he hadn’t been alone here before. How could he have forgotten that?”
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The cruel cackling and endless pain faded into a fog of numbness. Angel lay collapsed on the ground; nothing could induce him to move again.
The demons circled around their fallen prey like hyenas, the hunt had only wetted their appetite for suffering despite the fact it had lasted for years. Now they prepared for the main course. Their eyes gleamed with eagerness and bloodlust as they stared at the souled vampire.
Then a warm blue light pored across the landscape. The demons flinched back in pain from the purity of the light.
“Gabh romhad (Get you gone),” the being at the center of the light said, flicking his fingers at the amassed demons. Grudgingly they fell back.
The tall, fair being with long silver hair and startling green eyes knelt beside the souled vampire, stroking his cheek gently. Uncomprehending brown eyes slowly focused on the being. It had been so long, Angel had forgotten that touch could mean something besides pain.
“Ta shiu cheet, leanabh, (Hello, child)” the other said. “Tar. (Come)”
The pain from Angel’s injuries faded under the sidhe’s gentle touch. Shaking with terror, Angel stood and followed the other, suddenly he found himself immersed in darkness.
The gentle voiced being spoke again, but Angel’s mind, stripped of all but his survival instincts, understood only a few words. “Ta’iu cuir cosan. Deidhinn coid ta’iu bhur sooilley che bhi lak. Oayllagh bhi kiarit. (You are set on a path. Because of what you are your eyes won’t see. A guide will be provided.)”
Then Angel knew he was alone. A distant light appeared in the darkness and he moved toward it. Stumbling through a profound nothingness. It became a beach and Buffy was waiting for him, standing in the sun. She returned his mind to his; brought back the humanity Hell had stolen from him with her memories.
Angel walked up behind her and embraced her, Buffy, his light, his warmth.
“How did you find me here?” Buffy asked.
“If I was blind, I would see you,” Angel replied, thinking of how she filled the emptiness, without her there was nothing.
“Stay with me,” Buffy requested.
“Forever. That’s the whole point. I’ll never leave,” Angel replied. Then he felt other words filling his mind and voice. He felt emotions that hadn’t been there a second ago, that weren’t quite his. “Not even if you kill me.”
Buffy’s expression became dismayed and she vanished, leaving Angel in the blackness once more. “I didn’t mean it!” Angel called into the emptiness, trying to hold on to the pieces of his mind Buffy had brought with her, but feeling them slip away like a dream.
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Angel had never, well at least until a week ago, had never blamed Buffy for not rescuing him. He knew opening portals to the demon dimension was a risky undertaking, Angel had always believed Buffy had been correct in thinking he wasn’t worth that risk. He’d just been grateful that she had been willing to accept him back into her life when he returned.
Only Buffy hadn’t abandoned him, Angel realized with a burst of joy that countered his growing exhaustion. She had been the one sent to guide him home.
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In the darkness everything ceased. Without any reference points time and distance meant nothing. Then the light was back. Angel moved toward it eagerly.
He found himself in Sunnydale High’s sunlit courtyard. Buffy was there, but he wasn’t the one she was waiting for.
Angel followed her as she continued searching. “I thought they’d be here,” she said.
Somehow Angel knew what she meant, what she needed to here. “They are, they’re waiting for you,” he said.
“Am I dreaming?” she asked him.
Angel thought of the nothingness waiting for him outside of this, if this were a dream it was his whole world. For him nothing else existed but her. Still if this were a dream, her dream, he hoped she’d keep dreaming it. “I’m probably the wrong person to ask,” he said, then realized that she must have a life beyond this. “You’d better go.”
“I’m afraid,” Buffy admitted.
Again Angel felt the darker, uglier emotions infiltrating him. “You should be,” he said.
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The next light led Angel to the Bronze. He and Buffy danced as they had a hundred times before.
“I miss you,” Buffy said, her hand sliding down his arm to entwine with his, but before she could clasp his hand her claddah ring slipped off, falling to the floor with a clink.
Angel bent down to retrieve it for her, but as his hand closed around it dark memories and emotions filled him. He remembered her sending him to Hell, he remembered not understanding why she had done it.
Buffy apparently knew what he’d just thought. “I had to,” she said.
Angel’s own memories of knowing why it had to be done, of why he deserved it were buried under a storm of betrayal and anger. He clenched his fist around the ring and blood oozed from between his fingers as the symbol of their love cut him. “I loved you,” he said. The long healed wound from Buffy impaling him and sending him to Hell reopened, blood began to soak the front of his shirt.
Buffy, frightened and worried reached out to him saying, “Oh God! Angel…”
“GO TO HELL!” Angel yelled. Every wound he’d endured in Hell came back all at once, but somehow they didn’t hurt this time, this was just a show for Buffy. “I did,” Angel said, even as a small part of him screamed that this wasn’t how he really felt.
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Angel hadn’t understood then, or even remembered before today, but now he knew. Buffy had created everything in those shared dreams, including him. She hadn’t seen him as the insane, animalistic creature that had returned from Hell, so in the dreams he hadn’t been. However, Buffy expected him to hate her for what she’d been forced to do and those expectations had tainted gift of sanity she’d given him.
Angel examined the face of the cliff. “It wouldn’t be easy to climb, in either direction,” he decided. This looked like the best place he’d find to make his stand.
Hell had no sun, just a diffuse red light. It made judging time impossible. The watch Angel had brought with him had broken on the second day. It had been smashed in a fight with an overly eager to die demon, which had gotten ahead of the pack. In exchange for the watch, Angel had taken the creature’s sword and blood. “Demon blood always tasted awful,” he thought, but it still gave strength so he’d drunk all he could from the creature. The sword and blood would be useful, but Angel still wished he had the watch. He knew that the group in Sunnydale couldn’t attempt to retrieve him for three days, and the more he remembered the more certain he was that they would retrieve him, if he could survive that long. Having the watch gave him a goal, a quantifiable time that had to be endured, then this would end. Without it he couldn’t judge how long he’d lasted or how long he had to go. Without it he was lost in uncertainty again.
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Angel followed the light, but this time it seemed so distant and whatever the sidhe had done to him had worn off during the previous encounter with Buffy. Angel hurt, deeply, in every muscle and bone of his body, and this time the light didn’t engulf him immediately. It beckoned him forward but remained so far away.
Finally the light resolved itself into a shining silver ring, her ring, cutting through the darkness like the beacon of a lighthouse, guiding him to safety.
Then Angel was falling, and the world was all around him. Cars roaring in the distance, light assaulting his eyes, rough stone beneath him, cool currents of air running over his naked body. But no Buffy, no one to remake him so the world made sense again, no one to fill the emptiness in his mind, just the world, harsh and real and uncaring.
Shaking Angel reached out and picked up the ring that had led him here. Clutching it tightly he curled up on the floor and let the world wash over him.
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Angel remembered those first few days back. Hell had left him little more than an animal and the lengthy journey through silent darkness had heightened his senses as they sought out any stimulation. Buffy’s appearances hadn’t prepared him for the real world; in them her picture of him had protected Angel from the full extent of the damage he had suffered.
In the end Angel had forgotten everything about Hell except having been there, it was the easiest way for his mind to heal itself and free his attention to deal with the coming trial of facing what he’d done since the curse broke. Now those memories were returned, along with all the rest.
Angel watched the demons converging on his position. It was only a matter of time until he was overwhelmed, just as it was only a matter of time till the portal opened. He had no idea which would happen first.
Just outside the alcove Angel had chosen to make his stand in, the demons paused milling about uncertainly. Grinning recklessly Angel raised his new sword and changed showing his own demon. “I won’t go down without a fight this time,” he threatened.
Then it began. For Angel the world narrowed to blocking the next blow, killing the next opponent in a never-ending line of demons to be slaughtered. He kept his back pressed to the wall and fought. It could have been seconds, it could have been days, time stretched and compressed until it was meaningless. The time between seeing a blow begin and feeling it connect took an eternity. The pile of corpses at his feet appeared in an instant.
Then there was a shift. The hordes’ attention was split. Angel looked out over the crowd of monstrosities to see a small blond hacking her way through the mob. Reinvigorated Angel charged out to meet her. When they met Buffy spared him a quick grin as her ax thunked into yet another opponent’s skull. Together they forced their way back toward the portal.
Gunn, Xander, Wesley and Spike stood just outside of the small portal, killing anything that dared to cross over. The portal, no bigger than a doorway, allowed only a few demons to cross at any time, not enough to overwhelm the defenders. Cordelia stood back from the battle with her trusty crossbow, watching for any creature lucky enough to breech their first line of defense. Willow, Tara, Anya and Giles focused on holding the portal open, trusting the others to deal with the undesirable elements.
In Hell, Buffy and Angel joined the crush of creatures struggling to get to the portal. Now they received no more attention than any of the others. The demons had forgotten everything but the tantalizing chance to escape this dimension. They tore each other apart in their frantic scramble to reach the portal. Acting as one Buffy and Angel hacked their way to the front of the line, together they backed into the library, still fighting off the demons seeking entrance into the world.
“We’re safe!” Buffy yelled, letting the spell casters know it was time to close the door.
Buffy turned just in time to see Spike raising a stake over Angel’s unprotected back. “Angel!” she screamed.
The exhausted, gore covered vampire turned, unprepared for an attack from this angle, when a crossbow bolt smashed through Spike’s up-raised arm.
Howling in pain, the blond vampire dropped the stake, clutching his wounded arm to his chest and glaring at Cordelia with hate filled yellow eyes.
“Don’t even think about it,” the former cheerleader said, reloading the crossbow and aiming it at Spike’s chest.
Behind them the portal to Hell closed and the other combatants, as well as the spell casters, turned to see this new drama.
With an act of extreme will power, Spike brought back his human countenance. “It was an honest mistake, heat of the battle and all that. No need to go staking a chap over it,” he said with a shrug.
“Spike get out!” Buffy ordered.
“As you wish Pet,” Spike replied. “If you need me again, I’ll be around. Don’t forget about that date you owe me.” With that the slender vampire turned and walked out.
Behind him Angel collapsed to the floor as his adrenaline faded. Uncertainly Buffy staggered to him and dropped to her knees at his side. “This is mostly other people’s right?” she asked gesturing to Angel’s blood drenched form.
“You came in after me,” Angel said taking her hand.
“Of course I did,” Buffy replied. “You couldn’t have made it back on your own.”
“You could have been hurt,” Angel protested. “I’m not worth that.”
“He’s got his memory back,” Xander announced, as the entire group crowded around the pair.
“Well duh,” Cordy said examining Angel carefully. “Okay, the sappy reunion can wait till after first aid.”
“Yes,” Giles added. “Both of you need some looking after.”
Wesley and Gunn moved to help Angel to his feet as Giles offered Buffy a supporting arm. “My place is the closest,” Buffy said as they headed out.
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