Title: I’d Follow You Into Hell
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13
Episode spoilers: Up to season 2. Season 3 ain't happening here.
Status: Complete
Archive: To those with permission, yes. Everybody else, please ask first, I usually say yes.
Series/Sequel: Story # 6 in the Hell series.
Warnings: Nope. Not this time.
Disclaimer: Angel, Willow, et al, are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the WB. All characters are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
Thanks: As always, Marius and Carrie for beta reading. And Melinda Dawney, who got me reading W/A fic in the first place, for her earlier beta and encouragement.
Notes: This is the third in a planned 3-part arc of "fluff" stories covering Angel and Willow's changing friendship.
Archive summary: Third of three vignettes about Angel's re-adjustment and his expanding friendship with Willow.

“I would live like a free man, shake the chains from my soul.
Change my direction, to heal my reflection, stepping out into the cold.
These are the things I would do, to help me break through.
These are the things I would do, if I were you.”
-- ‘If I Were You’ by Venice

Ever get so wrapped up in things that you forget some huge upcoming event? Something so painfully obvious, you feel like a fool when you’re finally reminded of it? And it’s even worse when it’s something as life altering as what happened with me. I forgot that my life as I knew it was rapidly drawing to a close.

My not-so-friendly reality check occurred on what began as an ordinary Wednesday night. It had been just four days since I relinquished my post as Willow’s self-appointed nurse. She’d come down with a wicked case of the flu, and I’d taken care of her while her parents were out of town. It was a responsibility I’d gladly assumed, despite my immediate lack of qualifications.

But, I’d stayed with her through it all -- dosing out her medicines, bringing her toast and juice, playing cards with her when she got restless, even reading to her when she grew sleepy. Imagine me, a vampire, carefully mopping down the fevered forehead of a high school girl. Somewhere out there, the fates were laughing their asses off at me.

I know it sounds horrible, but those were two of the best days of my life. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I hated seeing Willow so ill, but at the same time, it provided me with a reason to spend two solid days in her company. In fact, the only time I left her at all was for a few hours each night right after sunset to feed, shower, and change clothing.

Of course, it couldn’t last forever. Willow’s parents returned home on the third night. I guess I was somewhat fortunate that they arrived after sunset. Hiding out in her closet until the sun went down wasn’t high on my list of ways to spend daylight hours. It was strange, but even knowing that her parents were back and better equipped to deal with her illness than I was, I loathed the idea of leaving her before she was completely recovered.

See, ever since Willow risked her own soul to rescue me from Hell itself, I swore that I would do anything to protect her. But how was I supposed to fight something as intangible as the flu? In the end, I did the only thing that I could: I stayed by her side to help her when and wherever the opportunity presented itself.

The following four days were awful. For the past two months, Willow had constantly been around me, checking to insure that I never felt isolated. Her sudden absence from my life created a vacuum around me, one that left me cold and alone. That was the first time I had truly realized how much I’d been taking for granted. I’d grown not only to enjoy the friendship Willow freely offered, but also to depend on it.

Even though we spoke on the phone every night, Willow couldn’t, of course, come over to visit. And with Mrs. Rosenburg keeping a watchful eye over her only daughter, neither Willow nor I thought it wise for me to come see her, either. I’d never been introduced to Willow’s folks, and I didn’t think they’d appreciate me coming around when their daughter was too sick to even go to school. That also kept me from slipping in through her balcony doors as well.

Of course, that’s not to say that I didn’t see her over those long days. In fact, my evening treks to her house had fast become a part of my nightly routine. Granted, watching her sleeping through her balcony window like some kind of sick, stalking Peeping Tom wasn’t the sanest thing I’ve ever done. However, just *seeing* her with my own eyes, knowing that she was, indeed, all right, was the only thing that allowed me a moment’s peace.

And through it all, I never allowed Willow to become aware of my presence. Quite honestly, I was afraid that I would scare her or, even worse, alert her to the fact that I was on my way to becoming obsessed with her.

That particular night was different, though. It was long past midnight when I climbed up the tree outside Willow’s bedroom. For the first time in over a week, the lights were burning brightly. Curious as to what was keeping her up so late, I stepped on to the balcony for a closer look.

Willow was sitting at her computer, typing so quickly that the movement of her fingers was a blur even to my superior eyesight. The sound of music playing softly accompanied the clicks of her keystrokes as the noise permeated through the glass and wood doors. But most importantly, there was Willow.

Even from this distance, I could see the effects of her recent illness. Dressed warmly in what looked to be flannel pajamas, Willow’s normally light colouring had faded to a paleness that rivaled my own. Sickness had even robbed her hair of its usual shine, leaving it a dull, muted shade of red.

Intrigued as ever, I remained hidden in the shadows of the balcony. Although I’d been carefully watching over Willow from a distance since my return from hell, I hadn’t had any chance to see her *awake* over the course of the past week. Seeing as how opportunity had knocked, I wasn’t about to let it pass without taking advantage of it.

Taking care not to make too much noise, I tapped softly on the glass of the door. Not surprisingly, Willow jumped slightly at the sound, but she recovered so quickly, I had to wonder whether or not she’d been half-expecting me to put in an appearance. Either that, or she had been aware of my nightly visits all the time. That thought momentarily scared the hell out of me for some reason.

My concerns, however, fled rapidly as Willow turned to face me. The instant she saw me, a huge, genuine smile lit up her face like a giant Christmas tree. Or, in deference to Willow, a fully lighted Menorah. Whatever the simile, the sight of that welcoming smile made four days worth of tension melt away in the span of a heartbeat.

Within seconds, she crossed the room to unlatch the balcony door. “Come on in,” she whispered. Having been invited in before, it wasn’t necessary, but Willow knew I would feel more comfortable hearing the actual words.

“Angel! I’ve missed you!” she enthused before throwing her arms around my mid-section in a giant hug. Oh, did I know the feeling. My arms went around her automatically. It wasn’t a bad thing, since my thoughts were totally occupied enjoying the elation of just holding her again.

I don’t think that either of us knew just how long we stood there embracing. On one hand it seemed to go on forever; while on the other, it didn’t feel anywhere near long enough. But like all good things, it had to end.

It was Willow who broke away first, surprisingly less embarrassed than I would have assumed her to be after a hug like that. Not that there was anything, well, sexual about it. But Willow was never very comfortable around men in general, and her ease with the situation just seemed a little out of character for her.

That, in turn, made *me* a little uncomfortable. Needing something to deter my sudden unease, I asked Willow how she was feeling.

“Like I told you earlier, I’m feeling a lot better. I don’t know why, but the nausea kinda comes and goes, but I finally made it through the whole day without it. If I still feel okay tomorrow, I’ll go back to school. If not, then my mom’s making me go to the doctor.”

“Maybe you should go anyway...” I frowned.

“Angel, relax. I just had the flu, y’know? Millions of people get it everyday. No big deal. At least not a doctor-kind of deal, anyway,” Willow soothed.

“Still...” I began, thinking about influenza epidemics I’d seen in the past. Willow was so lucky not to have seen what I had seen -- the bodies stacked up like cord-wood after villages, towns, and sometimes entire cities were ravaged by a something as simple as a virus. Despite the advances in medicine over the years, I still couldn’t help worrying about her.

“I’m *fine*, Angel.” There was no mistaking the finality in her tone, so I let it go.

“So anything interesting happen tonight?” I inquired, changing the subject more for my own benefit than for hers.

“You mean in the four hours since you called me?” Willow teased with a devious glint in her green eyes.

With my best mock-glare, I tried to frown at her. Of course, it didn’t work. Despite my best effort, I could feel one corner of my mouth curling up into a half-smile.

I’d expected her to say that nothing of interest had occurred. But then again, kicks in the ass are usually more painful when you don’t see them coming.

“Oh, Angel! The bestest thing happened after I talked to you!” she answered unexpectedly.

To this day, I still believe that I could actually *see* Willow glowing with utter happiness. Moving in something that, quite frankly, resembled a skip, Willow crossed over to the computer and plucked up a paper from the desk. Like an excited child trying to please a parent, she handed it over to me without any fanfare. I barely had a chance to read the word ‘Northwestern University’ on the letterhead when Willow filled in the details for me.

“I got accepted!”

Isn’t it amazing how much of a punch those three innocuous little words could pack? And let me just say that with that one small sentence, I felt my entire world crashing down all around me.

It was one of those ‘life-passing-before-your- very-eyes’ moments. I could hear Willow in the distance, chattering excitedly about her mother only giving her the letter right before she went to bed, but my mind was spinning over the implications of what she’d just said.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have not seen this coming? I *knew* this was her senior year. It was only logical that she would be leaving for college in the coming months. But I’d never *really* thought about it.

Or, more accurately, I never really *allowed* myself to think about it.

Then again, when you’re happy sitting in the boat, you don’t usually try to rock it.

I guess, in all honesty, I didn’t want things to change. Well, aside from the part where I fervently wished that the Hellmouth would somehow be miraculously sealed. No, I definitely wouldn’t mind a halt to the never-ending parade of evil that seemed to march through Sunnydale on a daily basis. I could easily spend the rest of my existence without seeing another monster du jour. But at the same time, I didn’t want to lose what I had found here.

See, aside from my reversion to Angelus and subsequent trip to hell, I liked the time that I’d spent in Sunnydale. I felt proud in the knowledge that I had, in my own small way, helped the good guys for a change. I loved the fact that for the first time, in both life and unlife, I actually had a purpose. I’d made a difference. And I’d made a friend.

A friend who would be leaving in the upcoming months.

I was still trying to wrap my mind around the concept when something tickled dimly at the edge of my awareness. That’s when I realized that Willow had not only stopped talking but was also staring at me with a strange look on her face.

It took a minute for me to realize that I hadn’t said a single word since she’d made her announcement. From some before-unknown inner-reserve, I managed to muster a small measure of enthusiasm. Plastering a poor excuse for a smile on my face, I reached forward and pulled her into a hug.

“Congratulations, Willow,” I said softly, terrified that if I spoke any louder, my voice would betray the utter devastation I was trying so valiantly to conceal.

Nestled within the cradle of my arms, Willow’s body was trembling with sheer happiness. I wanted to chuckle over her well-deserved excitement, but inside, I was coming apart at the seams. At a loss as to what I should do, I simply tightened my grasp and hugged her closer.

Another sharp pain flared in my soul when I realized that, in a few short months, we would no longer be able to share embraces like this one. I never considered how much I’d come to depend upon the closeness that Willow and I shared. Unlike the lust-filled, I-can’t-keep-my-hands-off-of-you embraces Buffy and I used to have, in Willow’s arms I found the kind of comfort, compassion, and unconditional acceptance that Buffy had never been either willing or able to offer. The knowledge of my impending loss was almost too much to bear.

Closing my eyes slowly, I leaned forward a little to nuzzle my nose in Willow’s hair. While my hands traced small circles on her back, I focused on each and every nuance of holding Willow, methodically committing all of it to memory while I still had the opportunity. Even at that moment, I knew that no matter how perfect my recollection would be in the future, it would never hold a candle to the reality of having her in my arms.

Although I could have happily stayed that way for hours, Willow was far too restless to let it go on for much longer. Breaking away from my arms, she returned to her abandoned computer chair. I felt the urge to pull her back as she moved away, but I managed to stifle it.

“So,” I began, not quite knowing what else to say. Following Willow’s lead, I looked around for a place to sit down. The only available space was the soft surface of her double bed. I don’t know why I hesitated before taking a seat. Hell, I’d actually *slept* in her bed a few days ago. Granted she was sick at the time, but sitting there now still made me…uncomfortable, as if I were taking a liberty of some kind. Realizing that Willow was waiting for me to continue with my open-ended remark, I scrambled to find something that wouldn’t make me look like an idiot. Too bad I blew it anyway. “Ohio, huh?”

“Ah, Illinois actually.”

“Anywhere near Chicago?” I asked, unable to keep the concern out of my voice. There was an active coven of vampires in the Windy City, one large enough to be worthy of mention.

“I don’t really remember,” she answered honestly

“Willow!” I exclaimed incredulously. “This is where you’re going to spend the next few years of your life, and you don’t know where it is or what’s nearby?”

“Well...,” she began rather sheepishly. “I only applied to Northwestern ‘cause it’s my mom and dad’s alma mater, and it was a safety in case I don’t get in anywhere else because, y’know, they’re usually easier on kids of alumni who apply and all. But it’s still a really good school...”

I struggled to keep up with Willow’s excited chatter. Eventually my mind caught on one little detail. “In case you didn’t get in anywhere else?”

“…it’s not Harvard or anything, but…huh?”

“You said you applied to Northwestern just in case you didn’t get in anywhere else. Did you apply to other schools, too?”

“Well,” Willow steadfastly refused to meet my eyes as she made her embarrassed admission, turning to shut off her computer instead. “Just a couple.”

“Really, which ones?” I asked with genuine interest. We were talking about Willow’s future here; of course I was interested – and not just in general terms. She had become a good friend – the best I had, or had ever had, I realized with sudden clarity. Not only that, but after she rescued me from Hell, I’d made Willow’s safety my personal responsibility.

“Just…well…a…couple.”

“Willow…” I prompted. “Which. Ones.” I asked slowly, seriously.

“Yale, Princeton, USC, Georgetown, Duke, Stanford, Georgia Tech, Virginia Tech, College of William & Mary, UCLA, and Crestwood.”

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. “Is that all? How many is that, by the way?”

“Uh,” her voice dropped to an embarrassed mumble, “twelve.”

“You applied to a *dozen* colleges,” I asked again for clarification. After all, education was completely different when I was in my youth, and I really didn’t know that much about how such things worked in this day and age. I remembered discussing the subject with Buffy a while ago, but she didn’t really want to talk about it. Given the short life span of Slayers in general, I think she often refused to let herself dream about events that she was most likely never going to get to experience.

“So it’s a little excessive,” Willow admitted with a slightly defensive air.

“I’m a little surprised, though,” I teased, looking forward to the defiant expression I knew my comment would bring. Willow did not disappoint. When she turned to face me, her green eyes held that hint of fire that I loved seeing so much.

“And just what is so surprising?” She crossed her arms over her chest, almost daring me to make any further comments.

“You didn’t mention Harvard on that list.”

“That’s because I didn’t apply there.” Willow’s head fell forward, allowing her to hide behind a veil of limp red hair as she made her self-conscious confession.

“Why not?” I asked in utter astonishment. Willow was probably the smartest person I knew – smarter than even Giles or Whistler. While they might have had years of experience – and in Whistler’s case, supernatural assistance – they couldn’t match Willow’s raw intelligence or as-yet-untapped potential.

“Well,” Willow began, “Harvard is a…very… demanding school, and I…”

“But Will, I’ve always heard that your grades are outstanding.” It was true. Giles was always expounding on her exemplary record, and I can’t remember the number of times I’d heard Buffy, Xander, or any number of other kids ask her for tutoring while at the Bronze.

“It’s not *just* about grades anymore. I know this girl, Amanda, who graduated from Sunnydale three years ago. She had it all – valedictorian, straight ‘A’ average, 1500 on the SAT’s – and she *still* got turned down by Harvard, Yale, Princeton, most of the big ones.”

“Why?” I asked incredulously.

“Because most colleges are looking for ‘well-rounded’ students.” I could almost see the quotation marks around her words.

“But you *are* well-rounded,” I insisted. “You know about computers, biology, history…hell, you’re great at research, you’re…” Willow interrupted me before I could finish extolling her virtues.

“Yeah, well, I think what they mean is more along the lines of yearbook staff or candy-striping at the local hospital. Last time I looked, ‘battling the dark forces of evil’ wasn’t considered a legitimate extra-curricular activity by most major universities,” Willow commented wryly.

She had a point. Actually, it was something that I really never considered. While I often joined Giles in worrying over the safety of these kids as they fought against some of the worst evils in the world, I never really thought about just how much they each sacrificed personally to be a part of the struggle.

But I should have.

How selfish it was of me not to have realized it. Fighting evil in its various forms was my responsibility – an endless debt I owed for all the atrocities I’d committed over my years spent as a vampire. It was a destiny that had been sealed the minute the Romany clan restored my soul the first time.

But what about the destiny that I’d decided for myself a few months ago? I’d sworn that I would protect Willow for the rest of her life. Like I said before, intellectually, I knew that she would eventually move on, leaving Sunnydale to pursue a life of her own. I’d just hoped that it would be a long time before that day actually came to pass.

Now that day was here, and I had to make a choice – following the course that Whistler had set me on years ago by helping the Slayer, or following my conscience and upholding the oath I’d made to keep Willow from harm’s way in the coming years.

Was it really a tough choice to make, though? Buffy was long gone. Even if she returned, the life of drugs and alcohol she was currently living would have a permanent impact on her Slaying abilities. Giles was still searching for her, just as the Watcher Council searched for the next girl to follow the Jamaican Slayer, Kendra. Neither party had experienced any success so far in finding their charges and, until they succeeded, the Slayerettes were doing their best to fill the gap.

Was it truly any of their destinies, though? Buffy was the Chosen One, the one girl meant to battle the forces of darkness, yadda, yadda, yadda, with the help of her Watcher, Giles. But what of the others? I’d always assumed that Willow and Xander assisted Buffy out of friendship and/or adoration. Buffy was gone, however, and yet Willow and Xander not only kept at it, but they also brought Cordelia and Oz into the fold as well. Why? I had to know.

“Willow, why do you do it?” She had a confused look on her face, so I clarified my question. “Why do keep patrolling? Why do any of you do it?”

“Because…it’s our job,” Willow replied slowly, as if explaining why water is wet to a child.

“But it’s not. Don’t get me wrong, you…all of you do an amazing job, but you aren’t Slayers. You could get hurt…”

“I try not to think about that part of it.” She commented, using her knuckles to knock against the wooden surface of her desk three times in short succession.

“…it’s not your responsibility…”

“Of course it is! It’s a responsibility for all of us! I mean, we live on a Hellmouth. If we didn’t fight all the bad stuff out there, who else would do it? That’s why I applied to Crestwood, too. Just in case Xander and Cordelia decide to go away to school, at least I’ll be able to help you and Giles deal with whatever pops up here.”

Hearing that Willow was actually considering staying right here in Sunnydale angered me. She deserved so much more than to go to the local rinky-dink college. Besides, in all truth, I wanted Willow as far away from the dangers of the Hellmouth as I could get her. If only I could make *her* see that, though. I had to try.

“But what about the rest of your life?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like with college, surely you want to do *something* else after you graduate.” I struggled to think of the right terms. “What are you planning on studying…I mean *majoring* in?”

The embarrassed look was back on Willow’s face again. “I…I’m not really sure. I mean, I like computers and all, but I also like medicine, or maybe medical research…I…I’ve just been so…busy the past couple of years, I’m not really sure what I want to do…” she trailed off, unwilling to finish her comment, so I did it for her.

“…when you grow up?” I teased, keeping my tone as light as I could manage in hopes of coaxing a smile out of her. All I got, however, was a sad expression.

“Sometimes I wish I could go back and be a kid again,” she said wistfully. “It was all so easy then. I mean, the worst thing I had to worry about was Xander mutilating my favourite Barbie doll. Now, I worry about getting mutilated myself. Back then, there was always somebody else there to tell me what to do, to make my decisions for me.” She gave me a sad little smile. “Tell me something, Angel. Does it get easier as you get older?”

What could I tell her? Two hundred and forty- odd years old, and I had the same desire she did. How could I tell her that making choices was just as difficult no matter how old you get? The only difference was that adults are just better at *pretending* that decisions are easier to make.

But Willow’s simple question had just helped me to answer a dilemma of my own.

“I’ll make you a promise, Will,” I said, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek tenderly. “I can’t – and I won’t – ever tell you *what* to do, but I promise that I’ll always be there to support you, whatever and whenever you make a major decision.”

Looking up from under the veil of her eyelashes, Willow shot a grateful look in my direction. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

***finis***