Title: Sweet Hereafter
Author: Eve
Email: alfa_fighter_3@hotmail.com
Pairing: W/A/S
Rating: NC-17 overall
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all characters from BtVS and A:tS, the rest are mine.
Author's Notes: In my world, there was no Tara, no Glory, and Angel has been in love with Willow since she brought him back from Hell
Feedback: Writers need feedback like mere mortals need air. :-P
Summary: Fifteen years after the opening of the Hellmouth, Willow, Spike, and Angel meet again

Chapter 12


Angel felt the point of the stake pierce the skin above his heart. As the pain increased, so did his conviction.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

As for how it was supposed to happen, he wasn't sure. Just not like this. Not at the hands of an wrathful Childe seeking revenge for something Angel hadn't even done. For turning Willow. Angel felt his own anger bubbling to the surface. Whomever had done that would pay dearly, and he'd be damned if it wasn't by his own hand.

Angel wrapped his fingers around the stake, meeting Spike's startled blue eyes with his determined ones. He pushed against the stake, and little by little it became dislodged from his chest.

"You'll have to kill me some other time, Spike."

Spike opened his mouth to say something, but an earsplitting shriek rent the air. Angel watched as his Childe was ripped from him, landing unconscious in the middle ofthestreet. With the loss of support, Angel crumpled to the sidewalk. Penelope was on him in an instant, checking his wounds and asking him if he was okay. He batted away her inquisitive hands and tried to sit up, wincing as he aggravated his chest wound. His only thoughts were of what happened to Spike.

Willow was staggering down the street. He tensed as she fell to her knees, but then she continued to crawl toward Spike's still form. Angel watched her fuss over him, feeling a slight pang of bitterness. He was the one who had been inches away from death, and she was worried about Spike? He could see her lips moving as she ran her hands over his body, and when she got to his arm, she deftly twisted it back into the joint. Angel grimaced in sympathy as Spike's body jerked in pain despite his unconscious state. She lowered her face to his and kissed him softly on the lips. Then she turned angry eyes on Angel.

He gulped, despite the fact that it took her considerable effort to get up and shuffle towards him. He wondered what had happened to make her so weak. Was it the turning? Her eyes were bright with animosity and unshed tears. When she bent down to pick up the bloodstained stake, Penelope tensed beside him.

"Angel," the ex-Watcher whispered. "She's--"

"I know," he interupted lowly, placing a restraining hand on her arm.

Sean, unaware of the tension as usual, jogged over to Willow. "Nice work.Would've had to take orders from a pile of dust if it weren't for you."

"I didn't do it to save Angel," she hissed at him.

Angel felt the hole in his chest grow that much larger at her words. What had he done to make these people hate him so much? He clutched at his wound, as if stopping the bleeding would stop the pain he was suddenly feeling. He met Willow's eyes, and her expression melted to one of regret.

"I'm sorry," she said, sinking to his side. "Are you ok?" She sniffled, and placed her hand on his stomach. She thrust the stake at him sideways, her head down. "Take it before I stake him."

Penelope lunged for it, but Angel grabbed it first, halting Penelope. "She means Spike," he said, half questioning, half sure.

Willow raised her face and nodded slightly, grateful for the understanding. Then he watched determination cloud her eyes. She straightened and closed her eyes, reaching out to touch his face. He pulled back with a hiss when her fingers brushed over his broken nose and probed the gash on his cheek. She cracked open one eye and gave him a disapproving stare. Hold still. He got it. Angel braced himself as she poked at him, whispering in Latin.

He couldn't help but stare at her lips as she spoke the healing words. The painful itching as his bone and skin fused back together was nothing compared to the sudden longing that had sprung up within him. He'd almost lost her, even before he'd had her. And that was more terrifying than the idea that he'd almost died. When he tangled one hand in her hair her eyes popped open, but she made no move to stop him. He pulled her face toward his, stopping when the gentle pressure of her lips met his. He tried to pour everything he had into the meeting of their mouths--his confusion, his relief. Fear, longing, regret, love. She finally pulled away, looking at him with gentle acceptance. A tear rolled down her cheek and he brushed it away.

"Let's get that heart fixed up, shall we?"

Angel wondered if she met emotionally as well as physically, but remained silent. Instead he concentrated on the feeling of her hands moving over him. He couldn't smell her, or hear her heart, but that was no different than when she'd come to see him before . . .

He was suddenly struck by a wave of happiness so strong it almost made him dizzy. Her spells were still up. He smiled at her. "You're not a vampire."

"No, I'm not," she confirmed, fighting back a yawn. "Angel?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to pass out now, 'kay?"

"Okay." He wrapped his arms around her as she settled her head against his shoulder.

Just before she surrendered to unconsciousness she muttered, "Stupid vampires." There was a tiny smile on her face.

Angel finally tore his eyes from her peaceful face to look around him. Penelope arched one delicate brow at him as if to say, "Just old friends, eh?" He ignored her knowing stare and looked at Sean.

"Mac?"

Sean waved his hand. "I did this wake up spell on him. He'll come around any second now. Got a good knock on the head, but other than that he's fine."

Angel relaxed even further, and as if on cue they heard a groan and a "What the . . .?" Penelope and Sean went to give Mac a hand. A minute later he teetered out of the alley under his own power. His eyes immediately fell on the blond vampire in the street.

"Who the hell is that anyway? Pretty strong for such a skinny vampire."

Sean voiced his own concern. "Yeah. And my magic had no effect on him at all."

Angel had been wondering about those things himself. Penelope glanced between them and her boss, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's Spike, isn't it?"

Nodding, he answered, "Yeah." He gathered Willow in his arms and hefted himself to his feet. Still a little shaky, but overall he felt all right. As for Willow and Spike . . .

"We better get these guys back to the hotel. The sun's coming up soon." Nobody else evidently knew that 'these guys' meant more than one person. His latest employees all began to make their way to Sean's car, leaving Spike forgotten in the middle of the street. He glanced back at his Childe, concern marring his features. They couldn't just leave him there, but aparently that's what everyone else meant to do. He stepped over to Sean and prompted him to take Willow from his arms. He sighed at the loss of contact, and ignored the surprised faces around him.

"I'll meet you guys there." He handed them one of the keys to his hotel room and walked over to Spike. His face looked almost peaceful, if you could see past the blood and bruises. He lifted Spike over his shoulder, mindful of his injured shoulder, and headed down the street to his parked car.

He'd get his answers later. Right now, there were two people who needed him.




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