Title: Judgment
Author: Medea
Email: medealives@hotmail.com
Pairing: Willow/Angel friendship, Buffy/Spike
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Willow's joyride in 'Wrecked' was only the beginning of her downward spiral.
Spoilers: Through BtVS "Smashed" and "Wrecked"; and AtS "Lullaby"
Archive: Please do.
Disclaimer: Joss created. I am not Joss. Therefore, not mine, never will be. Pity, that.
Note: A response to Kendra A's challenge to "fix" Wrecked, although I don't really feel that the ep needed fixing. There's nothing wrong with taking a character through the moral gray zone. I kinda thought it gave Willow some interesting nuances.
Note 2: This is not part of the Masters and Minions universe -- Willow is human. For Willow/Angel fans -- it comes later in the story, but it *will* come.
Feedback: Much appreciated: medealives@hotmail.com

~Part: 12~


Angel closed Willow's door behind him and made his way to his suite. He paused long enough near the grand staircase to hear the muted voices of Wesley, Tara and Spike, discussing the confrontation that had sent Willow on her unexpected journey. Hopefully, Wesley would be able to draw more information from them than Angel had managed to coax from Willow. After Wesley and Fred left, Angel had tried in vain to persuade Willow to talk further about her experiences. However, his attempts had earned only a sad smile, a shake of her head, and a soft plea that he not concern himself about her.

Frowning sadly, he proceeded toward his apartment. He couldn't force Willow to accept his help.

Or to accept the idea that people cared for her.

He opened his door, took a few steps, and stopped. A gentle smile spread across his face.

At the sight of Cordy cradling Connor in the crook of her left arm while holding a bottle to his tiny, hungry mouth, Angel felt a cleansing peace wash through him. He silently gave thanks that his son was surrounded by people who cared for him. Making a father's wish, he hoped that it would be a long, long time before the world stripped Connor of the innocence that gave children their unquestioning faith that they were loved -- and that they deserved to be.

Angel suppressed a shiver of dread at the thought of all the people and demons who had designs on Connor. The idea that these forces might one day leave Connor as broken and desolate as Willow was unbearable.

Firmly shoving these concerns to the back of his mind, Angel walked over to stand behind Cordelia. Connor nursed greedily at his bottle and stared up at him with wide, fragile eyes. In that look, so pure and wondering, Angel saw his own redemption. For the moment, all his worries were banished.

"Hey," Cordy greeted over her shoulder.

"Hey," Angel murmured, still gazing at Connor. He reached around Cordy's waist to toy with his son's flailing hand. Cordy smiled down at the child, completely relaxed in Angel's platonic near-embrace.

After several minutes of Angel's doting, nonsensical baby-talk, Cordelia removed the drained bottle from Connor's fleshy lips and crossed to set it on the kitchen counter. Angel followed her and set about washing and sterilizing the bottle while Cordy burped a very sated babe.

"So, how's Willow?"

As he soaped the bottle with a sponge, Angel sighed, "I'm not sure. Physically, she seems undamaged. Mentally...she knows who she is. She remembers everything that's happened, but she's so sad. There's a spark of the old Willow that's missing. I wouldn't think she'd changed so much since I left Sunnydale that she'd lost..."

"Her Jiminy Cricket perkiness?" Cordelia finished wryly.

Angel paused for a moment and rested his palms on the edge of the counter. Frowning, he added, "She's shouldering so much guilt. I couldn't get all the details out of her, but she's convinced that she's responsible for destroying every dimension she passed through."

Cordy stopped patting Connor over her shoulder. "You're kidding." At Angel's grim expression, she murmured, "Wow."

Neither of them said anything for a while. Angel rinsed the suds from Connor's bottle, then set it on the counter, filled a sauce pan with water, and set it to boil on the stove. When the water was rolling, he submerged all components of the bottle in the pan.

"You've been making yourself pretty scarce since everyone got here," Angel observed, changing the subject.

"The less time I have to spend around the Platinum Poseur, the better," Cordy remarked crossly. She shifted Connor in her arms and her expression grew thoughtful. "I guess I'm also not ready for the Sunnydale reunion yet. That part of my life was something I wanted to leave behind."

Satisfied that Connor's bottle was sterilized, Angel removed the pan from the burner. "You've faced worse since then."

Cordy rolled her eyes. "It's pretty much a tie." She eased over to the couch, rocking Connor gently, and sat down. "Anyway, it's not just the monsters and weirdness I wanted to get away from."

Angel joined her, resting one arm along the couch behind her shoulders while caressing his son's downy head with his free hand. "Xander?" he guessed.

"Well, him, too," Cordy conceded with grimace. "But mostly me. I..."

She trailed off and fidgeted awkwardly. Then, in a soft, steady voice she confessed, "I look back now on who I was then, and there are a lot of things I don't like. *Not* that I think there's anything wrong with speaking my mind...but sometimes I was pretty mean when I didn't have to be. Mostly to Willow. It's stupid, but seeing her the way she is makes me feel guilty, even though I'm not the one who did that to her."

Cordy's features tightened into a frustrated pout, eliciting a bemused grin from Angel. God, she was adorable when she...No. He couldn't go there.

His expression soon faded to regret as memories of his own, sordid history surfaced. "I know how you feel. Whenever I'm confronted by people I wronged in the past, no matter how much I've tried to atone since then, I feel like I'm the monster I used to be."

Angel frowned, shook his head and murmured, "I just hope we'll be able to help Willow. I never saw her let anything get her down like this. Not even me when I was at my worst."

Cordy looked at him as if he'd grown two heads. "Angel, if anyone can help Willow, it's you. If her problem is guilt over a few centuries of mass destruction, that's right up your alley."

Angel's shoulder's slumped at her painful, albeit truthful, reminder that his ability to help Willow rested on the fact that he, too, had left unspeakable damage in his wake. Seeing his discomfort, Cordy nudged Angel's calf with her foot and softened her tone.

"I guess where tact is concerned, I haven't changed as much as I'd like to think." When her remark earned a hint of a grin, Cordy added, "What I meant was, in spite of what you did in the past, you've moved beyond that. You're a better person than most human beings I know. You help people. You're becoming a great daddy. If anyone can show Willow that it's possible to move on, it's you."

With each warm compliment, Angel's smile broadened and he gazed raptly at Cordelia. Although his better judgment warned him away from true euphoria, he couldn't help feeling warm at hearing Cordy's sincere assessment of him. Sheepishly, he realized he was glad he was sitting down. Lately, she seemed to have the ability to make him go weak in the knees.

Unable to resist the impulse, Angel cupped his hand at the nape of her neck, pulled her close and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"Thanks, Cordy," he murmured against her brow.

At that moment, a throat cleared from behind them. Distracted, Angel hadn't noticed the arrival of new heartbeats. He pulled away from Cordy and turned toward the doorway.

A dull ache tore at his gut as he gaped, speechless, at Fred...and Buffy's younger sister.

"Hi, Angel," said Dawn, her tone deceptively light. Glancing suspiciously from the dark vampire to his companion, she arched an eyebrow. "Hey, Cordy."

Dawn surveyed the scene before her with more than a little righteous indignation. She stopped shy of snorting in contempt. So much for eternal, true love.

She cleared her throat. The guilty expression on Angel's face when he jerked away from Cordelia, coupled with Dawn's sense of loyalty to her sister, fuelled her need to diss him, and diss him big time.

"Hi, Angel," she said coolly. "Hey, Cordy."

"Dawn...wh-what are you--?" Angel stammered awkwardly.

Feigning aloof detachment, Dawn broke in, "Oh, just some trouble with the Watchers Council. They sent someone to try to kill Giles, and he didn't think it was safe for us to stay in Sunnydale."

"Actually, that's why we came up," Fred explained, threading her fingers together self-consciously. "Mr. Giles has a broken arm and he asked if Cordelia could spare some of her painkillers."

Cordy shook off her astonishment and replied, "Yeah...sure. Fine. I've...ah...I've got some sumatripan in the medicine chest. I'll get it for you."

Gingerly, Cordelia handed Connor to Angel and got up from the couch. Dawn's eyes narrowed as she watched Cordy disappear into the bedroom. Just whose apartment was this, anyway?

Rising to his feet, Angel asked, "Why would the Council want to kill Giles? Is Buffy in danger?"

Dawn shrugged indifferently, allowing her gaze to roam past the dark vampire as if he were merely part of the room's furnishings. "Giles didn't want to talk about it around me. That's probably why he sent me up here. I mean, somebody probably keeps a bottle of ibuprofen in that office downstairs."

Pausing and smiling for effect, she added, "Anyway, Buffy can take out anyone they send at her. Plus, I'm pretty sure they'd have to go through Spike, first. He gets all sweet and protective when someone threatens Buffy..."

At the look of utter, jealous dismay on Angel's face, Dawn silently congratulated herself. Served him right, getting all cuddly with someone else when he and Buffy still hadn't worked out all their Eternal Soulmates issues. It wasn't that Dawn thought Angel was cheating on Buffy or anything. Deep down, she knew Angel was better than that. When he and Buffy had been together, he'd been totally stellar. But it was just obvious to Dawn that a whole lot had been left unresolved. Most of the time, Buffy couldn't even bring herself to say Angel's name. And when she did, she got all skittish and mopey.

Meanwhile, here he was, playing house with Cordelia -- complete with an adopted baby. Well, unless Cordy had been sleeping around with someone else before Angel. Eww.

Buffy must have totally wigged.

Deciding she'd messed with Angel long enough -- she really didn't *hate* him -- Dawn said casually, "It's been nice seeing you, Angel, but I should probably get back to everyone downstairs. You know, makin' with the crisis mode again. Who knows, maybe I'll catch something interesting before Giles notices I'm there."

Angel winced.

Dawn turned her back on him, smirked, and ambled leisurely out of the apartment. She rolled her eyes. *Boys*. Sometimes they could be such dweebs.

Well, except for Spike. He was cool.

She had every intention of heading down to the office -- she really did hope she'd be able to eavesdrop -- when a strange sensation pulled at her. Dawn halted. Her skin felt warm and tingly all over. Every inch of her, from her eyebrows to her toenails, seemed to hum with energy. All sound other than her own heartbeat dimmed until she heard only a steady, soothing rhythm pulsing in her ears. Entranced, she stared down the hallway. Something behind a distant door beckoned. Dawn drifted past door after door, feeling the call resonate through her entire body.

Willow shrank back against the wall in a panic.

Magic crackled over her skin and burned like fire in her veins. The power blossomed and sang in her mind, calling her to the dance. A familiar presence drew near. Willow struggled to repel it, terrified that her ordeal would begin anew, but it was overwhelming.

She felt it at the door.

"No," she insisted through clenched teeth, digging her fingernails into her palms. "No. No. Stop. Go away...."

Dawn stretched out her hand, turned the knob, and pushed open the door. The power was strong, bathing her in gentle warmth and a gossamer caress, like a stream of orchid petals or liquid moonlight. A melodic whisper floated in her head, summoning her forward.

*Thou art well come...*

It was pure joy.

Willow hid her face in a desperate attempt to break away from the pull, even as the power enticed her, rippling through her as Dawn came nearer.

She couldn't let this happen!

With one, last burst of willpower, Willow threw all her might into a gut-wrenching scream.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!!!"




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