Part Two
A man and a woman huddled behind a car, keeping low, as the sounds of fighting emanated from the other end of the alleyway. They had been attacked by these … things, with messed up faces and more strength than was possible. But then a guy had come from nowhere - had pulled their attackers away from them - and now the couple hid, as they waited for their saviour to finish the job.
...
Spike was having himself a real good time. There were two of them - two against one. He preferred steeper odds to really get the adrenaline pumping, but after months and months of incorporeality - just beating on these two sods felt really good. He jumped on to the top of the car and kicked one of the vampires in the face, his coat billowed around him as he moved. The vampire fell to the floor and he dove of the car roof and pounced on him.
Back down on the ground, both vampires began to batter him again - and he struck out with his fists and his feet, kicking and punching and driving them backwards. Then he dropped down low, crouching, and scissored his leg out, sweeping it round to take out the vampire's ankles.
Just as he stood back up - both vampires rushed him once, running towards him from opposite sides. He stood quite still and then - at the last moment - flicked out his wrists, releasing the hidden stakes holstered there, and plunging them deep into the vampire's hearts. Both vampire's screamed and exploded into dust.
Spike glanced down at his wrist holsters, smirking. He was impressed with how they'd worked. And it had looked cool - he was sure of that. Then he looked up and caught sight of the couple still crouching behind the car. 'It's alright, you're safe now,' he told them.
They got to their feet, slowly. 'What were those things?' the woman asked.
'You're better off not knowing - believe me.' He turned and started to walk away down the alley.
'Wait - who are you?'
'I'm the hero,' he replied, without looking back.
Doyle glanced at Cordelia - what must have been his millionth worried glance of the morning. She looked dreadful, her skin was wan; pale and washed out and she had dark circles under her eyes. And the way she was moving wasn't right either - there was none of her high energy, bouncing around. She was so slow and sluggish and she looked completely drained.
'Uh - are you sure you're feelin' alright this mornin'?' he asked her. She yawned. 'I'm OK…' even her voice sounded flat. 'I'm just having trouble getting started.'
'Are you sick?'
She shook her head, slow and listless. 'No - I didn't sleep well last night.'
'Oh - well, if you're tired, then you should go back to bed. There's no need for you to get up if you're not ready. I can handle everythin' we got goin' on. Really - get some rest.'
But she shook her head again.
'Princess…' he started to say, but she cut him off. 'I don't wanna rest,' she said. 'I don't wanna try and sleep. If I sleep then…' she stopped talking as her bottom lip trembled and she had to inhale sharply to stop herself from starting to cry.
'Then what?' he sat down at the table next to her and reached out to stroke her face, his own crumpled with worry.
'I just kept hearing it,' she said, gritting her teeth as she talked. 'All last night, as I slept - that creepy laugh, it followed me around my dreams.' She closed her eyes and her face seemed to cave in on itself as she began to cry. 'I'm sorry,' she gasped. 'I'm just so tired - but when I was asleep it wouldn't go away. I ran and I ran - all night I was running - but it followed me everywhere. And everywhere I went, in my dreams, demons would come out of the woodwork. And I couldn't fight them, there were just so many - and then they would vanish and turn up somewhere else - and that laughter just wouldn't go away.'
'I'm sorry,' he leaned forward and kissed her, 'it was only a dream - you're safe now.'
But she shook her head. 'No! It was happening for real last night - you saw. There's something in my head and I don't know what it is or how to get rid of it or...'
'Hey hey, shush,' he kissed her again, on the forehead and then on the lips. 'We'll figure this out,' he promised her, 'you believe me?'
She sniffed, stifling her tears and then nodded her head.
'Good. Tell you what. Why don't I go and get you a decent coffee - anythin' you want - and a fresh pastry. You stay here, have a shower - I'll put the T.V on so you don't fall asleep. And then once you've had your coffee and are feelin' better, we'll get into serious research mode, OK?'
She nodded again. He gave her a final kiss and then got up from his chair and switched the television on. 'Look - Oprah's on - that OK?' She nodded again, and he left the sitting room and headed to the bathroom, switching the shower on and waiting for it to get hot. Once it was ready, he ushered her into the bathroom - then went to the bedroom and selected some clothes for her to put on, so she didn't have to think about it - just jogging bottoms and a t-shirt - something she would be comfy in, and then he headed out to get her a caramel and hazelnut latte with extra whipped cream.
Wesley approached the front desk with inter-office mail in his hand. 'Harmony, I need you to run these to accounting,' he said to the secretary. 'Tell them it's about the warlock situation.'
But Harmony didn't take the envelope from him. 'I'm not allowed to talk to accounting without Angel's approval,' she explained to the watcher, 'I accidentally authorised a few bath-of-the month subscriptions. By accident!'
But Wesley needed this doing - and Angel was indisposed. He handed her the envelope. 'Give them my authorisation code,' he told her, 'and have them cut a cheque immediately.'
The elevator bell rang and Lilah stepped out, just overhearing the last of the conversation. 'That's the spirit,' she smiled her shark's smile. 'Solve problems by throwing money at them. You know you really are getting the hang of this place, my Wesley, it's like you always belonged here.'
He didn't return the smile. 'Is there something I can help you with, Lilah?'
She held out the object she carried in her hand - it was a fragment of tablet with strange runes carved into it. 'Well, technically I'm supposed to give this to the big man - but we both know he's got all the knowledge of a monkey trying to play the trumpet when it comes to runic tablets.' She handed the fragment over to Wes. 'The Senior Partners are very interested in this. I don't know what it is and frankly, I get the impression they don't either. But they must suspect it's powerful because they're chomping at the bit to learn whatever they can about it. Now they told me to give it to Angel but…'
'Angel's indisposed,' Wesley told her. She smiled, 'and even if he weren't, he'd only hand it straight over to you. So let's just cut out the middle-vampire. Tag - you're it. Oh - and I suppose it goes without saying...'
'I'll let you know what I find as soon as possible,' he assured her. She smiled again. 'You never disappoint me, Wes.' She walked away and Wesley watched her go - not meaning to - just forgetting to take his eyes off her. He was interrupted by Harmony, leaning over the desk and hissing at him. 'Anything from The Senior Partners and I'm supposed to tell Angel immediately,' she said.
'I'll take care of it.'
'Also - any time something comes in with runes on it - I'm supposed to tell Angel immediately. And not try to read the runes myself … 'cause that can cause a fire.'
'As soon as we have some answers, we'll fill in him. Until then, I think Angel deserves some peace and quiet.'
Cordelia had showered and pulled on the comfy clothes Doyle had left out for her - but she still didn't feel any better. Her head ached from tiredness, her eyes felt all scratchy and she just felt weary all over; her limbs were heavy and her mood was listless and all over miserable. She sat watching the T.V - not really taking it in. The Oprah show was coming to an end - and it was the 'remembering your spirit' segment and Oprah had brought on a pastor, who was explaining to the audience how the secret of remaining in touch with your inner sense of self, and with God, was to find your inner joyfulness - and to always remember to laugh.
Cordy rubbed her face, trying to rid herself of the weariness - but it didn't work. There was no way she was going to find her inner joyfulness feeling like this - and no chance she was going to lau-
She heard it again. The creepy chuckle that had haunted her last night and then followed her in her dreams. She sat up straight - tensed and ready to fight. 'Hello?' she called out. She heard it again - coming from over by the kitchen. She muted the T.V - and got off the sofa - and headed across to the apartment to see if she couldn't find the source of this mysterious noise.
'Angel?' Angel lay in his bed, he still didn't feel right - he was still aching and feverish and had been left all alone. But now he could hear a soft, gentle voice calling to him - someone had finally arrived to see how he was.
Fred appeared in the doorway, saw him still in bed and stared down at him, nervously. 'You look terrible,' she told him. She walked closer towards him.
'Fred, I think something's wrong,' he gasped out. She was stood right by his bed now, looking down at him. 'OK, OK, don't worry, I know what to do.' She turned away from him for a moment, and when she turned back she was snapping on a latex glove. 'Let's take a look under the hood.'
She walked round to the other side of his bed - except now she had her lab coat on, and surgical gloves on both hands - and they weren't in his bedroom anymore - a lab had appeared, there were all sorts of machines, whirring and hissing, and cold storage with things floating inside jars. He lay on his bed and stared up at her helplessly, 'what are you -'.
'It's OK,' she reached across to a trolley laden with medical instruments, and Angel's eyes followed her as she chose a scalpel and then brought it down to his chest. 'No - please.'
She touched the blade to his skin - and pressed down. He gasped out in pain as she sliced down his abdomen, creating an incision. 'Hmm, there - that wasn't so bad was it?' she asked. She peered inside his chest cavity. 'OK let's get these things out of the way.'
'Please - stop. Fred...'
But she stuck her hand right inside of him and pulled out what looked like a rubbery piece of meat. 'That's your liver,' she said, tossing it into a bucket and then stuck her hand in once more. This time she pulled out two internal organs - these ones round and flat. 'And these are your kidneys.' Into the bucket they went. Angel cried out again. 'Oh don't worry, you're a vampire, you don't need this stuff anyway. You should probably have had it removed years ago.' Then she noticed something and peered in for a closer look, before reaching back inside and pulling something small and shrivelled out. 'There's your heart.' She laughed. 'What do you know- it really is a dried up walnut.' Angel squinted at it - she was right. It was a walnut. She threw it in the bucket - and it made a loud clanging noise as it hit the metal.
'So far, so good - let's see,' she reached inside - this time her entire arm disappeared inside him - right up to her shoulder. Then she pulled out a string of pearls and wrapped them twice around her neck, looking very pleased with her acquisition. She spotted something else and took it out, but this she put straight in her mouth. 'Raisins.' Then she pulled out a piece of metal - a rusted and battered, Mexican license plate. 'Came up the Gulf Stream, huh?' She tossed it over her shoulder.
Angel just watched in confused horror as she pulled object after object out of his chest.
'Oh,' she had reached in again - and was now reaching in as far as she could go, making Angel wince. 'Oh - hang on.' Angel gasped in pain as she pulled a goldfish bowl out of him. 'There's your soul!' The water was dark and murky - and the goldfish was floating upside down. 'We're gonna have to flush this.'
She turned around and handed the goldfish bowl to a man in a bear suit who had appeared behind her. 'Thank you, bear.' Then she turned back to Angel and sighed. 'Huh!'
'What's wrong?' he asked anxiously.
'Nothing. I can't seem to find anything wrong with you. I mean - except that you're empty. There's nothing left, just a shell.' She put her ear to his chest. 'I think I can hear the ocean in there!' She stared down into the cavity she had opened - seeing the nothingness going right the way down to forever. 'Hello?' she called out, her voice echoing like she was calling down a well, 'hello?' Angel couldn't move - and just lay on his bed, groaning feverishly, his eyes tightly closed.
Doyle pushed back the underground door into the apartment, 'here you go, darlin' coffee and a …' he stopped and stared around in horror. The whole place had been smashed up - the wooden furniture was in splinters, the couch was upended, the doors were hanging off their frames - and all the plates in the kitchen had been smashed on the floor.
Cordelia was stood in the middle of the room, battling it out with one of the pillars - which just stood there and took the punishment. She swung a sword at it. 'Why won't you die?' she screamed at it, tears were streaming down her face and she was panting and gasping as she fought this inanimate object.
'Cordy, sweetheart…'
She turned round - saw him - and screamed, swinging her sword right at his head. He ducked and hit the deck, the coffee he had just bought hit the ground and spilled out - and the blade whistled harmlessly past his head. 'Cordelia - it's me - it's me!' he yelled. But she didn't seem to hear him - and came racing towards him sword raised. He tried to scooch backwards, holding his arms up as some weak form of protection, and twisted his head away to brace for the attack. Her foot hit the warm puddle of coffee pooled there - and she slipped, going over backwards and landing on her back.
He immediately jumped up and went over to her - but she screamed again when she saw him - tears of terror still tracking down her pale face. 'No get off - get off,' she cried, as he knelt down and tried to take hold of her. She wriggled and writhed and tried to push him away.
'Cordy - Cordy!' but he couldn't get through to her. She was crying and twisting away, 'no, no, no,' she moaned.
'Cordelia!' he hated to do it - but he could see no other way. He took a deep breath, steeled himself - and then raised his hand and slapped her across the face. She went limp in his arms and stopped screaming, though she was still crying. 'Cordelia, darlin',' he said softly, there were tears in his eyes as he looked at her - as he saw the red handprint on her face that he had put there, and as he watched her distress and fear, and felt so helpless and unable to make it right. 'Cordelia, love, it's me - do you recognise me?' He pushed her hair back gently, and cupped her face so she was looking at him.
'Doyle?' her voice was small and scared. 'They're everywhere - they're coming out of the walls - I can't stop them.' Her face crumpled and she began to cry in earnest.
'Demons?' he asked her, softly. She nodded her head. 'Don't you see them?'
He wrapped her tightly in his arms, and held her against him, rocking slightly with her as she cried. 'There's nothing here, love,' he told her, his voice gentle - but heartbroken. 'It's just you and me… Did the laughter come back?'
She nodded her head again. 'It was all over the apartment - I couldn't find it - it moved around and around - and then ... they came. Out of everywhere. The walls. The floor - all kinds of demons. And they were so strong and…' she gave a gasp and began to cry again.
Doyle held her even more tightly, hugging her fiercely and kissing her on her temple. He gazed around the room, taking in the devastation to their home. 'It's gonna be OK,' Princess,' he promised.
'It's not,' she cried. 'I can't make it stop.' her voice sounded so strained, so tired, and her face was the same. She looked and sounded worn out and utterly broken. 'It just won't stop. Doyle, what's happening to me?'
He heard the catch in her voice, the little tremble of fear. He kissed her again. 'I don't know, darlin' - but I'm gonna find out, and I'm gonna make you right. I promise.'
They stayed down on the floor, his arms wrapped tight around her and he cradled her until she was calm again. And then - after what felt like hours - he helped her back to her feet and, supporting her the whole way, took her back upstairs so he could start researching ways to cure her.
Wesley and Fred were in Wes' office, examining the relic Lilah had given him. 'She didn't say much else,' he told Fred, 'only that it needed to be done as soon as possible.'
There was a knock on the open door, and Gunn came in carrying a report. 'You guys are gonna wanna see this,' he told them, handing the paper over to Wesley. 'Been getting reports of a vigilante prowling the streets last night - a vampire apparently.'
Wesley and Fred both frowned, and Wes scanned the reports. 'Angel never left his penthouse,' he said, then began to read an excerpt of the text. 'Vigilante reportedly killed two vampires at a gas station and then asked the women he'd saved if they'd - quote - "like to get a bottle of hooch and listen to some Sex Pistols records with him".'
Fred's frown grew even deeper, and she glanced between the two men. 'Are we sure Angel's just tired and not, um … crazy?'
'Read the description,' Gunn suggested. Wes' eyes scanned the page until he found what he was looking for. 'Medium build, black leather coat … platinum blonde hair.' He looked up at the others - and they all sighed.
Doyle led Spike down some steps and opened the door at the bottom of it, entering into a basement flat. Spike hung back at the threshold. 'You need to invite me in,' he said. The other man turned back to look at him, 'it's not my place - it's yours,' he said. Spike stepped through the door - and sure enough, there was no barrier.
'Building's quiet, windows don't get direct sunlight. You've got sewer entrance for your daytime travels.'
'What no cable?'
Doyle laughed. 'You've got water, electricity, heating . All the basics. You even got a Korean market on the corner. Open all night.'
Spike looked round the place, a sardonic eyebrow raised. 'Look, I appreciate everything you've done for me - making me corporeal and all. Now maybe Angel liked to be taken care of, but me? I draw the line at being your kept boy.' He turned and started heading back towards the door.
'Oh - you got somewhere else to live?' Doyle called after him. Spike came to a stop and, behind him, the other man smirked to himself. 'I mean, a man of your means must have money tucked away somewhere. You'll find something soon… I'm offering you a place to hang your hat... Or your coat. Could say thank you.'
Spike headed back into the apartment, shaking his head as he looked around its small confines. It was gloomy and poky - and didn't really have more than one room. There was a kitchenette in the corner, and a small table with two chairs. There was a sofa against the wall and - visible in what could generously be called the 'bedroom', but was really just a more distant part of the same room - was a bedstead and a chest of drawers. 'Great - another ruddy basement.'
'You want creature comforts - go to Wolfram and Hart. This place has everything you need to be a hero. The job requires somewhat of a ... Spartan existence.'
Spartan was one bloody way of putting it. Depressing was another. Spike pointed at the miserable excuse for a single bed. 'You call that a bed?' he demanded.
But Doyle only smiled, 'not like you're gonna be sharing it with anyone any time soon.'
Spike raised his eyebrow. Another oblique reference to Buffy - and how far away she was, and how slayer whipped Spike still was. This git had better bite his tongue if he didn't want to lose his teeth. 'Speaking of bed sharing,' he said, instead, 'what does Cordelia think of this cosy little arrangement you're setting up for me? Would have thought she'd be here to bake a 'welcome home' cake for me or put down a few throw pillows or something.'
Doyle's expression became troubled. 'Cordelia still hasn't come to terms with what it means that Angel works for Wolfram and Hart now. She still thinks he's a champion … maybe Cordy doesn't need to know that the PTB have moved on without him just yet?'
'Well - my my - isn't this a tangled web we weave?'
'The righteous shall walk a thorny path.'
Angel lay on his back - still feverish, his forehead still clammy with cold sweat. His bones still ached and he moaned with the pain, writhing under the covers until he became aware of moaning and writhing going on right next to him. He rolled over - the blankets seemed to go on for miles - but eventually he saw Spike, in the bed beside him - naked - and moving rhythmically on top of …
'Spike?' He peered at him, blearily - squinting his eyes. The other vampire looked over at him, but didn't stop moving up and down. 'Keep it down mate, you've got something on your shirt there.'
Angel glanced down to look at his shirt, to see what Spike was talking about - but that's when he heard her voice. 'Every time I say the word Prom, you get grouchy.'
'Buffy?' he leaned over trying to see her, but she kept her face turned away from him. Her hands rubbed up and down Spike's arms, caressing his muscles as he worked away on top of her.
'Won't be long now,' Spike said - and Angel wasn't entirely sure exactly what it was he was referring to. 'You're taking Buffy to the prom?' he asked, in confusion.
'can you say jumping the gun, I killed my goldfish,' Buffy said.
'I thought we we're going to...'
'Shhh,' Spike hissed at him. 'I can't be the marathon man with all your yammering.' Well, there was no mistaking what that meant - and Angel just stared at the two of them, hurt and confused, as they made love to each other in his bed.
He woke up with a start - and realised he was alone. He sighed with relief and rolled over, sitting up and letting his feet hit the floor for the first time in what seemed like days.
...
The elevator door opened up and he stepped out into the lobby, meeting Fred who smiled at him. 'Hey, look who it is, how are you feeling?'
'Better, thanks.'
'Uh,' she laughed, 'Angel,' she pointed down to his feet. He looked down - they were bare. He'd not put his shoes on - just come down here straight from bed. He was still in yesterday's shirt, even. 'Oh,' he looked embarrassed, 'I...'
Fred laughed again. 'Always takes me a few days to get back in the swing of things myself. You should put a new shirt on though...'
Gunn ran up to them, his face shining with excitement. 'Come on, guys, you'll miss it.' He and Fred went over to the concession stand where Harmony's desk usually was - and got popcorn and soda - and then headed into Angel's office. Angel looked round the lobby, noticing it had a much more carnival atmosphere than normal - there were neon lights and stalls selling 3d glasses and glowsticks. 'Miss what?' he called out after them - and followed them into his own office.
It was crowded in there, and dark. He looked around - he'd never seen it so full. 'What's everyone…' he heard a distant explosion and turned to look out the window - and realised they were all staring at a fiery, apocalyptic downtown Los Angeles. 'Oh my god,' he stumbled towards the window, staring out in horror.
'Hey - down in front,' Lorne called out.
'Yeah, Angel - you're blocking the apocalypse.' Harmony sounded annoyed. He turned to look at everyone gathered there. 'I have to do something, I have to get out there.'
'Don't worry, Spike will take care of it,' Wesley told him, taking a handful of popcorn.
'Yeah, you should go back to bed,' Gunn agreed - his eyes fixed on the show outside the window, also calmly eating popcorn as if this were the movies and the apocalypse just an action film.
'Yeah - or at least go put some clean clothes on,' Lorne said. 'You got a little something on your shirt there, babe.'
Angel looked down - and saw a bloody stake sticking out of his heart. He looked up in distress - he could feel the sucking wound cloying against his skin - and as he lay on his bed, a blueish, slimy creature sat on his chest - right above his heart - suckered to his skin, feeding.
Cordelia was lying on the green sofa again, her eyes closed, and whimpering occasionally. Doyle was sat at the desk - his computer on - but he didn't know what to look up or where to start. He'd already tried laughing demons and shapeshifting demons the night before and had no luck at all. He was beginning to worry that this was something else, and that - whatever it was - he might not be able to find it on the net.
His eyes travelled across the room and settled on the bookshelf on the next door office, where they kept all of Wesley's old library. There was more on this earth than just demons - and whatever this thing was, it was inside Cordy's head - not out in the world where he could fight it. If he needed to broaden his research, to start looking amongst other types of otherworldly creatures for the answer - then he might need to dive into the old books. But that was an even more daunting task than searching the entire demon database. He had no idea which book to start with. He had no idea how to help Cordy. He was starting to think he wasn't even the best person to try...
Lying on the sofa - a damp cloth over her eyes - Cordy heard the laugh again, sinister and snickering, right in her ear. She sat up with a gasp and ripped the cloth from her face - staring around in alarm. Doyle looked over at her, worried, 'Cordy what is…'
There was a tap on the door - and then it opened. Doyle took his eyes off Cordy - just for a moment - distracted for only a moment - as he looked to see who it was. A UPS delivery guy stepped inside. 'Hi - I have a package for Dr. Folger but he's not in. Could I maybe…'
On the sofa, Cordelia screamed - and jumped to her feet. She launched herself at the delivery guy - whaling on him, punching and kicking, beating him as if he were a demon or vampire she'd met out on patrol . Doyle didn't even have time to think - to stop and consider. Cordy was a slayer - she couldn't be allowed to beat on a regular guy - she'd kill him - without meaning to. But he didn't even think all that - not consciously. He just morphed into his spikes and jumped out from behind the desk, leaping across the room. He landed and grabbed Cordelia around her waist dragging her back and hurling her away from the delivery guy. It was lucky she was so drained and exhausted, she fell away easily - though under normal circumstances Doyle would have trouble restraining her. He pushed her away and stepped between her and the delivery man - and then braced, as she regained her footing.
She turned back and came face to face with Doyle; screaming again, when she saw him - and it must have been bad for her, after so many imagined demons to have a real one stood right in front of her. She ran towards him - and, again without thinking or hesitating, he acted; grabbing the fire extinguisher, raising it high - and swinging it at her head with all his might. There was a horrible, hollow ringing sound as the metal met her skull. She fell to the ground, knocked out cold - and he let it drop from his hands. The hollow metal clang rang out again - and in his mind, it sounded like the audible manifestation of a heart made hollow with shame. Then his red eyes met the terrified eyes of the delivery guy - the guy stared at him for a moment of frozen horror, taking in his green skin and blue spikes - and then turned and fled.
Left alone, Doyle switched back into his human face - and stared down at his girlfriend, whom he'd been forced to beat unconscious. The shame cut into his heart again. With his insides churning, and black guilt biting into his soul like a cancer, he picked Cordelia up and carried her back downstairs.
