Rating: R for language
Archive: anywhere you like, just let me know
Spoilers: everything up to and including "To Shanshu in L.A."
Summary: Angel's attempt to keep his friends safe forever may lead them into the greatest danger of all.
***********************
Captive of the Soul
by Yahtzee
***********************
PART FOUR
Angel generally did not speak of Angelus in the third person.
It was a small point, one that might go unnoticed by some, but Wesley prided himself on attention to detail. No matter how horrific, how demonic, how -- different -- Angelus seemed, Angel almost never referred to the demon as a separate entity. Angel said, I did this. Or, when I was there. Or, I enjoyed it.
Wesley had always found that strange, never more so than now.
"This is rich," Angelus snarled, pulling at the chains that bound him. Wesley could see blood dripping behind the chair, no doubt trickling from the newly lacerated skin at Angel's wrists. (Or were they Angelus' wrists now? Who owned this body? No way ever to know.) "You people think you're gonna get rid of me as easy as this? You think you can have the soul without the demon? What fools."
Trying to pretend that Angelus' words didn't mirror his own fears, Wesley turned back to Father Augustine, who was studying the vampire calmly, and Cordelia, who looked anything but calm. "We ought to hurry," Wesley said in a low voice. "He's tearing himself up in those chains --"
"He can't get out," Cordelia said, her voice slightly shaky.
"No, but he's causing damage Angel will have to suffer for later."
"We should hurry in any case," Father Augustine said. "The demon grows stronger with every moment of dominance."
"Fine. Great. Get all chanty and incensy and whatever. Just get Angelus out of there," Cordelia said.
"It is not so simple," Father Augustine replied. "We are using the oldest and most powerful form of the ritual. His counterattacks will no doubt be vicious. For this reason, each of us will take one section of the ritual."
"You mean, Wesley and I have to do this too?" Cordelia said. "Boy, you know when a great time to mention this would've been? Anytime before NOW."
"To speak of it earlier would have been to warn the demon," Father Augustine said.
"And this isn't warning him?" Cordelia snapped.
"He will not have sufficient time to prepare if we act quickly," Father Augustine said sharply. "Which of you has known Angel longer?"
Cordelia half-raised her hand. Father Augustine pulled out a battered old book and handed it to her. "At the top of the page. Begin."
"Cordelia -- are you sure you can --"
"Wesley, it's okay," she said. "Better get it over with."
She turned to face Angelus, who was smirking at her -- nothing new there, but nothing good there either. She started to read. "I confront you, demon, in the name of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit --"
"Listen to all of you. Over there whispering like I couldn't hear you. You keep trying to show off how smart you are, Cordelia -- keep trying to show us all that there's a brain beneath all that hairspray. Or a heart under that push-up bra. But then you go and do something stupid like letting me hear you, and the truth will out."
Keep reading, she told herself. You've heard worse than that. "The body is the temple of Christ. God shall not suffer a profaner within the temple, and ye -- ye? -- shall be cast out of the temple --"
"This body hasn't been God's temple in a real long time, Cordy," Angelus. "For a couple hundred years now, it's been nothing but a corpse. I just drag it around with me. You like to forget that, don't you?"
Then, right then -- she knew it, even as it was happening, but couldn't stop it all the same -- he punctured her defenses. She'd prepared herself for the insults, at least she thought so. But this -- oh, dammit, he had a point.
"The demon isn't the intruder here," he continued, in his slow, silky voice. "The demon's right at home. The soul -- that's another story."
The exorcism was all about casting out something that didn't belong. Did the demon belong -- more than the soul? Was that possible?
And in her moment of doubt and confusion, he turned his blade sideways and slipped its narrow edge in.
"You've been wondering if I'd ever fall in love with you."
Cordelia's voice choked in her throat. The holy book almost slipped from her hand. She was suddenly terribly aware of Wesley's presence. "I -- no. No. Your place is, is, is in hell, I mean, in pernicious hell, and there you will be, uh --"
"I do look at you, you know. I mean, I'm dead, not made of stone. You've got a body that just doesn't quit, baby," Angelus had narrowed his eyes, pursed his lips, dropped his gaze lower than her face. "And you know what? I'd love to just shoot you down, tell you I never thought about it, but I gotta tell the truth. The idea has definitely crossed my mind."
"There you will be cast among the demons and the dark ones and the night," Cordelia blurted out, hating herself for her hesitation, hating herself for wanting to hear what Angelus would say next. "You will return to your rightful place, your history, your past --"
"Do you know why, Cordelia?" Angelus said softly, shifting in his seat so that he almost looked relaxed. "Do you know why I think about fucking you?"
"Your past -- your past shall be as your future --"
"Because I know it's safe, honey. No curse to worry about with you. No perfect happiness on the horizon. I don't love you. So that means I could throw you down and bang you senseless, and I'd be able to just get up, walk away, and leave all the evilness before you locked in the closet like a bad little boy. You'd be -- convenient, Cordelia. Isn't it nice to know you could finally be of use?"
"Cordelia --" Wesley said, and she didn't immediately register the pain in his voice. All she could perceive was the crushing weight in her chest, the heat of the blood that had flushed in her cheeks.
"Your past shall be as your future," she said, her voice thick and painful to utter. "Hell is your rightful home, and you shall return there and be as you once were. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, amen." And with that, she turned on her heel, thrust the book at Father Augustine and ran out of the room.
Cordelia pushed the heavy metal door open and blindly stumbled into the alleyway; she groaned as she realized it was raining, a faint, cool mist that turned the world gray. She backed up to the brick wall of the building, allowing herself the scanty shelter of the rusty old fire escape. As she covered her face with her hands, she took in a shaky breath.
He knew, she thought. He knew, and all that meant to him was --
***
Father Augustine felt pity for the girl's humiliation, but remained focused on his task. "Your turn is next," he said, turning to Wesley. To his surprise, Wesley no longer stood by his side, but was hurrying to the door. "Sir! You are forgetting yourself."
"I'm not, actually," Wesley said, almost apologetically. "It's just that we -- I mean, I should --"
"She shouldn't be alone," Angelus said. "She's just so vulnerable right now."
"Silence, demon," Father Augustine said.
"Bite me," Angelus said. "Wait, no, it goes the other way around."
Father Augustine ignored the demon's rantings. "We must hurry."
"I know," Wesley said. "But we need her here."
He was out the door before Father Augustine could ask precisely why they needed her there, now that her work was done. Little matter, he told himself. They could spare a few minutes for the young man to comfort Cordelia. And he had heard a hundred demons in a dozen countries curse his name; he knew how to endure.
Angelus was staring at him, his eyes small and dark. "That vow of celibacy's a bitch, isn't it? Believe me, I know way the hell too much about it. About the way you get hungrier and hungrier for one good --"
Father Augustine looked back at the door and began wishing for Wesley to walk back through it.
***
"Cordelia?" The door squeaked open once more, but Cordelia didn't turn to Wesley. Instead she looked away, toward the far end of the alley, where rain-dark cars swished through the mist.
"I'm fine," she said quietly. "I got through my part, didn't I?'
"You did."
"So, end of story. Don't you need to go do your thing now?"
"We have a few moments. I wanted -- I wanted to make certain you were all right."
"He's still chained up in his chair, right? No broken bones here."
"That's not the damage I was most worried about." Cordelia looked over at Wesley then, and instead of the judgment or shock she'd expected, she saw only genuine concern. "There's no use in pretending that I didn't hear, Cordelia. I realize that we don't really talk all that much, but, I thought -- maybe -- you would want to talk about this."
Think again, she wanted to say. But instead, the words she heard coming out of her mouth were, "It's not like I was in love with him or anything."
They were both quiet for a moment, until Wesley gently said, "I know that. But I had thought, perhaps, that -- you cared."
"Not that way. I mean, not really that way, not most of the time. I mean -- oh, I don't know what I mean." Cordelia hugged herself and glanced back at Wesley. "It's just that Angel came along when I was so down-and-out. I ran into him at a party -- did you know that's how we met up again? But I acted all haughty and rude to him. Like I was still some big deal. But I didn't have anything. I hadn't eaten in two days. I was -- this rich guy said he was interested in me, and I went to his house to -- I thought, it's just my body, it doesn't matter, that's not what matters about me -- but I knew what I was going to be. And then it turned out he was a vampire, and I was just a meal for him, but then Angel came in --"
"He saved your life," Wesley said.
After a moment, Cordelia shook her head. "Yeah, but that's not the important part. He saved -- something else, something I was getting ready to give away. You'd probably use some old-timey word like 'virtue' or 'honor' or something, but that's not exactly what I mean -- all I know is, Angel saved me from losing that. He gave me a job, and he listened to me, and when Doyle died he was there for me --" She lifted a hand to her face, as if she could somehow hold back the words, hold back the feelings they represented. "We got close. And when you get close to somebody, I mean, you can't help but wonder. Wonder if you might get -- even closer. Especially if he's totally hot."
"Only natural," Wesley said gently.
"I tried to hide it, but he saw, and all he thought --"
"Stop," Wesley interrupted, as he put his hand on her shoulder. "You don't know what Angel thinks of all this. Only what Angelus told you. Angelus wants only to hurt you; he can't be trusted, Cordelia. You mustn't take what he says as the truth."
"I know that," she said, then straightened up. "I do know that. I just kinda forgot there, for a second."
"Angelus is persuasive. It's one of his weapons." Wesley looked as though he wanted to say more, but he didn't -- just kept leaning against the wall with Cordelia, getting damp in the mist.
"Your turn's coming up," Cordelia said. "And you're freaked."
"Yes."
"Don't blame ya."
"Cordelia, I -- I know it's asking a lot, but -- would you come back in with me?" Cordelia stared at him, and he shook his head. "I tell myself that I'm ready to hear what he has to say, but I wonder."
"And -- you want me there?"
"Yes," he said, his voice carrying the same note of surprise as her own. "I do. If you can take it."
She squared her shoulders. "Bring it on."
Wesley did not look at Angelus as he and Cordelia walked back in. He thought it would be easier to focus his attention on Father Augustine, at least until he saw that Father Augustine was scowling a bit. Wesley never dealt well with rejection from authority figures, and from a priest, no less, the scowl was rather disquieting. He would have liked to say something like, the last thing I need is a lecture. Or, Cordelia needed help, and that's important whether you understand it or not -- whether I understand it or not.
Instead, he said, "Where does my part begin?"
"At the top of this page," Father Augustine said as he held the book out to Wesley. "Hurry. The sections of the rite must be completed in sequence, quickly, or we lose our binding power --"
"Give it up already," Angelus said from his chair, his voice sending shivers of dread up Wesley's back. "Cordelia might lack in the brain department, but she's got a little backbone, I'll give her that -- or keep it for myself. But Wesley? Spineless as a jellyfish."
Wesley snatched the book away from Father Augustine and turned to face Angelus. He'd faced him down once, after all -- and sent him sprawling into an elevator shaft. Now, with the demon tied helpless in a chair, he had nothing to fear but a few snide words --
"In the name of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, I cast thee out --"
"You cast me out of my own home? Don't think so, Wes. I bet you can't even step on a spider. You scoop it up on a bit of newspaper, let it wander out on the windowsill, don't you?"
"How did you -- oh. Oh. I cast thee out, that the spirit within thee may be free again to walk in the light of God."
"You couldn't even raise a hand to Faith, could you?"
Faith. The name cut through him like ice, like metal, like shards of broken glass. That nerve in his arm, the one that still felt numb in the mornings, seemeed to vibrate within him, one long note of pain.
"The spirit will know the truth of God, and the spirit will know the word of God." Wesley knew his voice was not so loud as it had been a few moments before, hated himself for it, tried to stand up a little straighter. "The demon is the scourge of God, and we shall not suffer it to remain --"
"You came down there to kill her. Was it revenge, or were you doing it for me? I wasn't ever sure about that. But I heard you, heard that knife you dropped as it hit the concrete. If you were just bounding to the rescue -- because, you know, you could really help a whole lot against Faith -- then I can see it. But it wasn't, was it?"
He knew I was there. I had to go back inside, catch my breath, try to believe what I'd seen. He came for me so much later -- so much later, and he knew I was standing there, all the while, knew what I had seen -- "And we shall not suffer it to remain. Let free the soul held captive within the body, let free the body held captive by the demon."
"You know why I picked Faith, don't you? Why I helped her instead of you? Come to think of it, you probably haven't been able to figure that one out. But I bet you're just a little bit curious, aren't ya, Wes?"
Wesley's fingers couldn't seem to catch the thin edges of paper to turn the page -- God, how embarrassing, to be sweating and trembling because of nothing more than words. How humiliating, to be made to remember all this, and to want to remember. To want to know.
"Faith had her knocks, you know? The bad home life, the drunk mom, the guys who used her -- just thinking about it chokes me right up. But you gotta give her credit; no matter how hard you hit her, she just bounces back again. Can't tear that one down. And you, Wes, you're a house of cards. Just a matter of time before you crumble under for good. So which horse was I gonna bet on, Wesley? Which one of you was I gonna play? Who was worth getting on the leash? You tell me."
Wesley could hear Cordelia shifting on her feet behind him, no doubt in embarrassment or impatience or some mixture thereof. He didn't want to think about the expression of contempt that was no doubt on the priest's face. And he hated the triumphant glare with which Angelus was studying his face.
No way out but through, he told himself, and mustered up the will to continue. "The future of the spirit and the future of the demon shall be separate. We divide thee from the body, oh demon --"
'You want to know the saddest thing of all, Wes, my boy? I cut you loose, but I got you anyway. I rubbed your face in it but good, and what did you do? You just came back crawling and wagging your tail like a bad dog. I rewarded Faith for torturing you, and you took it."
"We divide thee from the body, oh demon," Wesley repeated, his voice by now a hoarse whisper. "Forever more shall the spirit and demon be twain."
And with that he turned away from Angelus, shoulder slumped as though he had been defeated. For one moment he dared to lift his eyes to Cordelia's; she was looking at him with a gentleness that almost leavened his humiliation. Wesley surrendered the book to Father Augustine.
"Now, demon," Father Augustine said, his rich voice echoing from the concrete walls, "your time is short."
"Bragging," Angelus said. "Such a turnoff." But he seemed far less interested in Father Augustine than he was in Wesley and Cordelia.
"Seems like I remember Buffy talking about you two having the hots for each other, once upon a time," Angelus said. "Seems like I remember some slow-dancing going on at the glamorous Sunnydale High prom, for which I cannot BELIEVE I rented a tux. The thought of you two having sex -- that puts me right off my lunch. But I gotta ask: Did that happen? Did Wesley have the balls to ball you, Cordy?"
Father Augustine showed no sign of surprise or hesitation, but plowed on with damnable, enviable calm. "Here and now, demon, you shall be cast from the body. We begin the warding chant, which will repel thee from the body and cast thee into thy proper hell --"
The priest began a chant in a language so arcane even Wesley did not know it; Angelus showed no sign of even being troubled. He kept glaring at Wesley and Cordelia as his visage slowly vamped.
"I've thought of all the ways I'd like to kill you two, you know," Angelus said. "Want a preview of coming attractions? Because it's almost as much fun to tell as to execute. Almost. See, first there's this thing with a meathook -- you spear somebody just right, and they can hang there for days before they die. Sounds about right for you, Cordy --"
And his face shifted again. The vampire fangs retracted, the forehead smoothed, and the eyes went from yellow to brown. Angelus trembled in his chair -- no, Wesley thought, shook, as though he were having a seizure, or as if he alone could feel the tremors of some powerful earthquake.
"It's happening!" Cordelia whispered, clutching at Wesley's arm. "The exorcism's working!"
But Father Augustine shook his head.
"What the --" Wesley breathed.
"No," Angelus snarled through clenched teach, then shouted, "NO!"
He threw his head back, hard, against the back of the chair, again, three times, then fell limp. Wesley involuntarily took a step forward.
Angel looked up, his eyes wet, his expression once again his own -- full of doubt, remorse, shame. "Angel?" Cordelia said.
"I -- I couldn't take it --" Angel said. "I couldn't hear those words coming out of my mouth --"
"It's all right," Wesley said. "We know it wasn't you."
"But it was me," Angel said, shaking his head, dropping his face so he couldn't meet their eyes. "It was. That's what you don't understand."
"I don't get this," Cordelia said. "You didn't do that chimey thing on the crystal."
"We knew there was a chance that Angel would be able to break the hypnotic trance at will," Wesley said. "One of the reasons we tried this instead of drugs."
Father Augustine took Angel's shoulder in his hand. "I realize that it is difficult for you to endure the demon's dominance," he said. "But if we are to continue, we must act quickly. Every moment we interrupt the ritual, we lose the hold we have gained over the demon."
"Just give me a moment," Angel said dully. "It's hard. It -- it hurts."
Wesley hesitated, remembering times in his life when he had spoken those words and no one had listened. He said, "Angel -- are you certain you want to go through with this?"
"What?" Cordelia said. "Wesley, that's nuts! We're, like, this close. Come on, Angel!"
"We're essentially torturing Angel, and for a rather uncertain result," Wesley said roughly.
After a pause, Angel said. "I've already hurt you both so much. Don't pretend it's not true."
Cordelia hung her head for a moment before saying in a low voice. "It's worth it if we finish this."
Angel considered that for a moment, then said, "Cordy, you told me before that you thought this was a bad idea," Angel said. "Well, you were right and I was wrong."
"Although I would normally want to get those words engraved on something shiny, this is so not breakthrough time," Cordelia said. "If I can deal, so can you."
"This is not an argument we're going to have," Wesley said, with something that sounded surprisingly like authority. "Before, we talked about how this was something Angel had the right to choose. He has the right not to choose it, too. This is over. Please, let's end this."
They were all silent for a moment longer until Father Augustine said, "You have controlled this demon for many years. I pray that you will be able to retain that control." And with that, he closed the little prayer book.
"I don't believe it," Cordelia said, her voice harsh in the echoing room. "I can't believe I went through -- all that stuff, and for nothing."
"Cordelia, there's no point in arguing any longer," Wesley said tiredly.
"I'm not arguing. I'm just telling it like I see it. Angel doesn't want his demon gone? Fine. Honestly, sometimes I think you like having that demon inside you," she said, staring at Angel. "It gives you someone to blame."
Wesley grabbed her arm sharply. "Cordelia, this is not the time to say something you'll --"
"Something I'll regret? Seems like the theme of the evening to me," Cordelia said. But she stepped forward with him to unshackle Angel, who still would not meet their eyes. Even as he stood up, rubbing his cut and roughened wrists, he held himself a little apart them from, as though unable to bear their gaze or touch.
A few moments of leaden silence passed before anyone spoke. "You are well?" Father Augustine finally said.
"As I'll ever be," Angel said.
"We should go home now," Wesley said gently, hoping to soothe both Cordelia's wrath and Angel's apparent misery. "You probably need some rest, Angel. And -- didn't you have a big day tomorrow, Cordelia?"
"I feel all right," Angel said, flexing his hands slightly as if testing his own words.
"Well, then, you go on out and paint the town red," Cordelia huffed. She grabbed up the duffle bag she'd brought along and began piling their various equipment inside. "I still have an audition to prepare for."
"Perhaps it would do us all good to take a bit of a break," Wesley ventured. "Get some space. We can talk about all this after we'd had a bit of a rest."
"No space for you," Cordelia said. "I need you to help run lines."
"Now, why do you want Wesley to help you with that?" Wesley and Cordelia both stared over at Angel as he spoke. Saw the smile that began spreading across his face. Transforming it.
"After all, if you want to learn about acting -- learn from a pro," Angelus said.
*************
CONTINUED PART FIVE