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Shadows of the Heart (Part 6)
By Erana Zeitler
Erana5128(at)aol.com

Disclaimer: Characters used in this story don't belong to me. Shocking, huh? They belong instead to Joss Whedon. Sad, but true.

. . .

Chapter 6

Buffy did almost exactly as Willow had instructed, going outside and then smoking three cigarettes in rapid succession before she walked towards Xander's car. Due to a very dangerous habit of his, especially in Sunnydale, the keys were still in the ignition. She was slightly surprised it hadn't been stolen already, it wouldn't be the first time someone had taken off with his car. The Slayer stepped inside, hoped Xander wouldn't think another car of his now rested securely in the hands of a criminal, and gunned the engine, then pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive.

She wasn't exactly sure where she was driving to, actually, she was pretty sure she had no destination whatsoever. She just needed to clear her head, try and think rationally, and to block the emotions that were beginning to overwhelm her. She turned on the radio, then played with the dial until hard rock began to fill the car. Somehow the violence and pure rage in the music helped calm her, letting her wallow in rage long enough to push it down. She just wished she could be certain who it was she was so furious at. It wasn't Angel, it wasn't herself, it wasn't her friends, despite their disloyalty and disbelief in her, Hell, it wasn't even Spike and Drusilla. The rage inside her was directed at no one, yet at the same time, directed at the world. At the people who knew nothing about danger, and at the people who fought it by her side.

She'd driven for about twenty minutes when she realized where she was. Two blocks away from the Bronze, right by Angel's apartment. Or, former apartment. She wasn't really sure, she'd never been back there since the night she'd first discovered Angel's soul had been lost in a night of passion. Almost against her will she parked Xander's car by the curb, took the keys out of the ignition, and stepped outside.

Moments later she was down the stairs and at what had once been his door. Tentatively she knocked, then she turned the door knob and found it moved easily in her hand, unlocked. She stepped inside, and smiled, her first real smile in ages. Everything was exactly as she remembered . . . except for the thin layer of dust that coated each object.

She moved towards the bed and sat down, brushing her fingers across a pillow, and then bringing it up to hold against her chest. The Slayer sneezed then from the amount of dust, and she half smiled once more. Of everything in her life, it was more than slightly surprising that the only thing that had remained the same was Angel's apartment. She just wished she could say the person who'd used to live here was the same . . . but she knew better then to believe that. Some people cracked under an hour of torture, Angel had endured two years worth. A large part of her was terrified that it had been too much, too much for him to deal with and still come out not only alive, but himself.

Sighing she rose to her feet once more, knowing that despite the solace she was finding here, she was needed. She'd let Angel down so many times, far too many times, she'd destroyed him in one night of passion, she'd allowed herself and the others to perform the ritual to restore his soul and his humanity without knowing where he was at the time, and, worst of all, she'd left him at the mansion, alone, for two years. It didn't matter that she wasn't dealing with this well, no matter what Willow said. Angel needed her. And there was no way in hell she wasn't going to be there for him.

Somehow that gave her the final push she needed to shove the anger firmly inside, so that it no longer overwhelmed her emotions, just left her with a tight feeling in her stomach that was easy to ignore. She left the apartment, got back into Xander's car, and drove back to the hospital, knowing that there was no other place for her. She arrived back at the hospital relatively quickly, a little too quickly, considering the town speed limit. Buffy wasn't overly surprised to see Xander waiting outside, and a relieved look passed across his features when he saw the Slayer . . . and his car.

Buffy parked, shut off the car and got it, dangling the keys in Xander's direction. "Left them again, huh?" she asked with a small smirk.

Xander grabbed them from her hand. "Doesn't mean you should go joy-riding," he chided her in annoyance. Then his features immediately softened. "I know you hate this question, but, you okay?"

Buffy exhaled loudly, glaring at him as she lit yet another cigarette and sat down on the warm hood of his car. "Oh, I'm just peachy," she said with fake cheerfulness. "It's a beautiful day, what could possibly be wrong?"

Xander joined her on the hood, sitting next to her and looking at her sympathetically. "Buffster, thing's are going to be just fine. We've defeated the forces of darkness, saved the world, all that stuff, I think we can deal with this."

"I don't," Buffy replied flatly, inhaling on her cigarette and leaning back against the windshield to stare up at the large hospital in front of her. "I really, really don't."

"Well, who cares what you think?" Xander retorted. "We're all here, and we're all on the side of we can do this."

Buffy looked vaguely started. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Xander rolled his eyes. "Hey! You think I'd let former Dead Boy forget my vast wit and intelligence? No way. I've got four years worth of insults to make up for!" He grinned, and she couldn't help but smile a little. Then his expression turned serious. "I mean it, Buff, we're not going anywhere. We'll be here for you . . . both of you, every step of the way."

For a moment Buffy couldn't think of a single thing to say. Finally, she managed, "Thanks, Xander," very quietly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Xander waved off her gratitude with a flip of his hand, then stretched and hopped off the hood of his car. "Come on," he said, reaching out for her. She accepted his hand and allowed him to help her off the car and lead her back into the hospital.

. . .

Willow cradled the phone against her ear as she sat in her bedroom in her and Buffy's apartment, typing quickly into the computer while talking to Giles on the other end. "Okay, you come up with a last name yet?"

Giles sighed. "I've been through every Watcher chronicle I own, nothing. They all refer to him as 'Angelus, the one with the angelic face'. Not very useful."

"Very un-useful, you're right," Willow answered, tiredly taking a sip of her coffee. She'd long since gotten over her usual caffeine high's, she'd discovered that when one drank the liquid every night for studying reasons, they developed an immunity way too quickly. "I'm still trying to figure out how to break into social-security. That's majorly high-class and illegal hacking. But without something to type as a last name, well, there isn't even a point in trying."

Giles bit his lip. "I'd really prefer we didn't have to make one up," he murmured uncomfortably.

"I know," Willow agreed, "but if it's either have a fake last name, or be in jail under suspicion of being an illegal alien or something, ya know, I think I'd lean towards the fake last name bit."

"Quite right," Giles was forced to confirm. He thought for a few minutes, then sighed. "Can you think of anything?"

"Why don't we use Buffy's last name," Willow suggested. "That way she can get into see him, say she's his sister, or something."

"No," Giles replied immediately. "For, um, future purposes that might not be a good idea."

"Future purp . . . oh," Willow suddenly caught on as she realized a guy and his sister definitely wasn't legal. "I'd say mine, but, well, he's Catholic, that wouldn't be good. And Angel Giles just sounds stupid . . . " she trailed off for a moment, deep in thought. "Angel Chase? Nah, too . . . icky. But it would be best if he were related to someone, I mean, that way at least one of us always has permanent access, as a family member, or something."

Giles nodded over the phone. "There's always Xander's," he said thoughtfully.

"Oh, I don't know," Willow murmured. "I mean, you know, Xander and Angel were never exactly best buds . . . " She trailed off once again. "I'll call you back, call him up, see if he's okay with that," she finally said, realizing it was the only option they had left. A moment later she was dialing his apartment. Cordelia picked up. "Cordy, is Xander there?"

"No," Cordelia said darkly. "He's at the hospital with Buffy." From the sound of her voice Cordelia definitely didn't approve.

"Oh, okay," Willow muttered, then said a quick goodbye and dialed the hospital. Finally, after twenty minutes of being on hold, Willow got to talk to him.

"Hey, Will," Xander said. "What's up?"

"These hospital people aren't much for phone calls, geez, and you're not even a patient." She frowned for a moment, then spoke, "Giles and I are busy building a past for Angel when he wakes up, and Giles couldn't find his last name anywhere on record, none of our names work, so, ya know, if they say family members only and you go in there . . do you promise not to be a jerk about it?"

Xander groaned. "Geez, people. So I made a few jokes here and then, didn't mean I wanted him to go get tortured for two years. Yes, I promise not to be a jerk, and sure, go ahead and use my name." He smirked suddenly. "Won't that make me the older brother, in human terms?"

"No, Xand," Willow said, "he's a year older then you in human terms."

"Damn!" Xander muttered, then hung up.

Willow rolled her eyes and called Giles back. "Xander said it was okay, so that takes care of that," she said. Then she took a deep breath. "Now it's time for me to be majorly, majorly sneaky." She shuddered. "Hey, for once my job's the riskiest."

"A - are you going to be able to - to do this?" Giles asked, sensing the deep worry in Willow's voice.

"Sure. I'm just going to hack into the social security office, and, hey, that could get me about a life time in prison, but . . . no worries." She bit her lip worriedly. "Okay, lots of worries. Major worries. Definite, definite panic worries."

"Willow, calm down," Giles said gently. "You don't have to. Many people don't have a social security number. They only started giving them at birth a few years ago."

"Oooh, damn, a birth certificate might be good," Willow winced. "Okay, never mind the social security thing, but I got some major work to do. I gotta go." Willow hung up on the Watcher and continued creating Angel Harris. She had to smirk at the thought, and then her eyes widened. What if Angel and Buffy got married . . . Buffy would end up being a Harris, anyway. She began to laugh hysterically at the thought, and when she finally stopped she was suddenly a lot less worried about the law-breaking she was about to finish conducting.

. . .

"Hey," Buffy said, looking up as Xander came over to her and brought a cup of coffee with him. "What was that all about?" she asked, referring to when Xander had been paged.

"Oh, Willow wanted to know if it was okay if she made Angel my brother," Xander answered with a smirk. "Talk about the perfect excuse to torment him."

Buffy rolled her eyes heavenward and accepted the caffeine he gave her. "I'm gonna go outside, do that smoking thing," she said quietly.

"Don't you think, you should like, go home eventually?" Xander asked, standing to follow her.

"Nah," Buffy said, shaking her head and smiling weakly. "I want to be here when he wakes up. Whenever that is." She sighed as she made her way towards the doors that lead outside. She smiled in relief as she lit a cigarette, "Nothing like Cafetine."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Cafetine?" he asked.

Buffy grinned. "Caffeine and Nicotine," she clarified. "Two lovely, unhealthy, great things. Cafetine. Right up there with pina coladas, I'm telling you. And Fuzzy Navels." At Xander's startled look she explained, "Hey, I turned twenty-one a couple months ago, a girl has to celebrate, and all."

Xander shook his head ruefully. "Cordy's ticked," he said quietly. "She thinks I'm all in love with you again."

"You don't have to stay with me 24/7, Xand," Buffy reminded him firmly. "Besides, I think I could use some alone time. Ya know, time away from pretending that this isn't bothering me half as much as it is." She frowned as she realized what she'd just said. "I mean, that, its . . .oh, you know what I mean."

"Yeah," Xander said with a nod. "And there's always that evil place known as College."

Buffy winced and bit her lip. "You realize the thought hasn't even crossed my mind in the past two days?" she asked. "Damn. I forgot all about it."

"Understandably," Xander reminded her. "You want me to go, tomorrow, pick up some work for you to do, so you don't totally fail?"

"What's the point?" Buffy queried as she sipped from her coffee. "I only went so my mother wouldn't go postal. Right now there are other things a little more important."

"Hear ya," Xander said. "Well, if you're sure you'll be okay by yourself . . . " he trailed off and looked at her worriedly.

"I'm sure," Buffy answered firmly. "Go home, make your girlfriend happy, go to school, be a normal person for a bit."

"Okay," Xander replied with a sigh. "If you need me, call," he added as he started heading towards his car.

Once he had driven away Buffy leaned against the back of the hospital and sighed loudly. "It's about time," she muttered under her breath somewhat angrily. She'd been trying to get rid of Xander for the entire two days he'd stayed with her. While she knew his presence was meant to comfort her, it had the complete opposite effect. She just needed to be alone for awhile, away from people trying to cheer her up and make her feel better. Taking one last drag of her cigarette, she put it out and started inside, then stopped to look around.

She rarely got to appreciate the beauty of the night, considering what she fought on a daily basis. But somehow the stars never seemed to sparkle more brightly then they did at that moment, the moon never seemed to give off more light than it did just then. Suddenly Buffy found she had no desire to go back inside and deal with doctors who were more cryptic then the Cryptic Man they were treating. Instead she moved back towards the end of the building and sat down, lighting another cigarette and letting the night relax her.

Buffy glanced up to see a truck pulling up, and suddenly she didn't feel nearly as rested as she had. It was suddenly all so clear, her fighting vampires, who'd come to steal packages of blood . . . Angel coming to help her fight them . . . her worried about Giles . . . crystal clear flashbacks in vivid surrond sound. Shaking her head to clear it she stood and decided that inside the hospital was a much better idea.

. . .

Buffy was sitting in the waiting room, alone and glad to be, while flipping through a magazine about good housekeeping. The subject matter hardly interested her, of course, but the distraction was extremely helpful in keeping her mind off of Angel. She just wanted to see him, now. To look at him, and know he was alive. But of course, no visitors were allowed. With a slight groan she glanced at the clock on the wall then back down towards her magazine and rubbed her eyes wearily. They'd said something to her not that long ago about having to perform surgery, something about his shoulder, but that had been finished a few hours ago. Now he was just resting after the surgery.

She sighed quietly as she tried to remember just how many days it had been since they'd discovered Angel in the mansion. She couldn't remember. The days and nights had just turned into one long period of sitting, waiting, and occasionally driving. She wasn't sure how much more she could take. And the sympathetic looks she kept getting from doctors and others in the same waiting area were beginning to get on her nerves. She knew she looked terrible, she knew she hadn't slept, she knew she'd been in the same clothes for days . . . she didn't care. Right now there were more important things on her mind, and the burning desire for everyone to just leave her the hell alone were growing.

Before she knew it she felt herself drifting, felt the room around her fading, the common sounds of the hospital growing vaguer and vaguer as her eyelids shut. When she opened them again it felt like she had just blinked, but a glance at the clock on the wall let her know that if she had just blinked, the split second in time had lasted four hours. "Ms. Summers?" a voice asked her. The voice sounded nasaly, annoying, and unfamiliar.

Buffy looked up at the doctor. "Yes?"

"You're here for Mr. Harris, right?" he queried.

Buffy raised an eyebrow before she remembered the hacking Willow had done on Angel's behalf. "Yes, I am," she said, beginning to feel the slightest bit of hope that she'd finally be allowed in to see her love.

"Normally it's family members only, at least for awhile," the doctor explained, "but since you have been here the most . . . I think it's fair to make an exception. You can go in. He shouldn't regain consciousness, but if he does, it's safe to say it won't be awake for long. Right now proper rest is the only way he can heal, physically."

Buffy stood and nodded, then sighed and asked the question she'd been dreading, "What about emotionally?"

The doctor closed his eyes for a moment. "Emotionally . . . I don't know," he replied honestly. "Recovering from torture this brutal, and from the look of his injuries this long lasting . . . it's not an easy process." He shook his head. "He may not be the same man you knew."

"Which one?" Buffy asked quietly, thinking of the two personality's of Angel, the demon, and the man she'd loved. Then she sighed and looked back up at the doctor. "Thank you," she replied.

He nodded, once. "I will have to inform the police of this," he warned her.

Buffy's eyes widened. "Police?" she queried.

The doctor looked surprised by Buffy's surprise. "Well, yes," he answered. "Torture is most definitely not legal in the United States. Charges will have to be pressed, everything else. I do plan on refraining from calling until Mr. Harris is well enough to speak with them, however."

Buffy groaned, adding another item to her 'worry about later' list. "Thank you, doctor," she said again, and waited until he nodded again and headed down the hallway before entering into Angel's hospital room.

. . .

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