Angel's Perspective: Back in the Alley
...
"What have you done to me." Angel's voice growled out as he held the blond woman tightly by the throat, rage rushing through his muscles, making his fingers twitch tighter.
"N-nothing." She forced out, breath becoming scarce.
"Lying bitch." He seethed, "I can smell it on you." In demonstration he inhaled, smelling so many scents on her at once. There was fear or course, in vast quantities, but there was also rose from her perfume, lavender from her shampoo, and the coppery sting of blood where he'd slapped her and slit her lip. She was quickly becoming ripe with the stench of sweat and urine as she struggled in his tight grip. However under all that, the reek of black magicks was still overpowering.
Her blond head shook in denial, "He m-made m-e." She squeezed out, trying to sound innocent.
"Who?" The angry demon demanded, determined to get every drop of information out of this little whore. He could smell sex on her too, a lot of sex, with different men.
She shook her head again, not willing to finger her partner in crime. She was a selfish woman, but her accomplice was powerful and valuable to her firm, if she ratted him out, she was more afraid of her boss than the demon currently strangling her.
"No?" Angel asked, actually feeling glad for her refusal. He hadn't tortured anyone in ages. "Well I guess I'll be asking the hard way." He grinned, finally getting an outlet to all the pent up aggression running its way through his system.
Her eyes watered, but her resolve kept strong…for a few minutes anyways.
...
Pain she never imagined washed over her as Angelus did was he did best, centuries of experience gave him perfect techniques generating vast amounts of pain while leaving the body relatively intact. What would be the point of torture if the subject constantly passed out or died of blood loss?
Through the pain, Heather as he'd found out her name was, not that he really cared, mumbled something from her blood caked lips. She bitten them often trying not to scream.
"What's that dearie, didn't quiet catch that?" He paused in his cutting and his pinching; letting the spot he'd been working bruise a little as he listened.
"No more…please." She whispered though the pain.
"Sure." He grinned, fangs menacing in his jaw. "Just tell me what I'm asking and it all goes away." He didn't exactly lie to her, when he had his information he would make the pain stop. He'd kill this bitch for what she did to him. Death made the pain stop…so not a lie.
Her features scrunched up, both from the agony his hands reaped over her and the sting of raw fear of her employers wrath. "Rayne…his name is…Ethan Rayne." The words slipped from her mouth, like she was offering up her very soul.
His lips pulled back in a sharp smile. "See, was that so hard?" Now the floodgate was open, he was getting every drop from her mouth.
Within minutes she was spilling everything to him.
He listened with varying degrees of rage at how she'd sent the portal to remove Buffy from the picture, her plans with Wolfram & Hart to capture the offspring born of a living vampire and a slayer. She told at his painful insistence where they were based, about the security guard, Nathan Jackson, that patrolled the area, of Rayne's contribution to the spells running though him and Buffy, spells that amplified the grief and anger of losing a child.
They hadn't caused Buffy to miscarry, they'd only taken advantage of the situation that the event has caused between them.
As a fail-safe, if the portal didn't kill the slayer and it was reopened with the spell Rayne magically altered in Willow's book, the hex on Angel would be transmitted disguised as part of the spell, in the form of twin serpents.
The spells worked in tandem, Buffy's feelings of emotional isolation cutting him off from the supply of love that quelled his demon's rage. In a week or so when his rage became too much, he would kill Buffy in her mentally weakened state and deliver the children to Rayne.
They hadn't counted on Angel's ability to bottle and ignore vast reserves of anger so well. Nor had they counted on Buffy's will to conquer her emotional distance. Numerous spells had been weaved over the slayer to keep her love away from Angel, to keep the hex growing as it fed on the sexual frustration that increased within him.
The madness that rushed Angel at the memory of agony caused by the hexed serpents as they injected the spell into him nearly coaxed him to take her head then, but the thin grasp on his sanity still held. He'd survived and retained his sense of being during a century of torture in a hell dimension; you didn't accomplish that being weak minded.
It was Buffy's love that kept that mess of emotions wrapped together, he'd been lacking it lately, but the weakening strings still held.
For now anyways.
"Why?" He spat out, slamming her against the brick wall in a blind rage. "Why my kids?" Everything evil wanted a bite of out him and Buffy, that was nothing new. Being the good guys automatically made you a moving target for the bad guys; but the kids were innocent.
She just looked back at him and he understood.
It was for the same reasons so many wanted Connor when he was born. Katie and Liam were impossible, perhaps not so much as a child born of two vampires, but still two unique occurrences. That alone made them valuable, desirable to those of the occult and demon worlds. Think of the possibilities of capturing the children of the most powerful slayer, her power held in the hands of those holding her child hostage. The evil world had lost interest with Connor, many deterred by his growing up in a demon dimension. Most had wanted him as a baby, that was where the real power was, in the young, the innocent.
Angel bared his fangs; he couldn't hold back the rage at the thought of anyone using those kids as leverage against him.
They were His, Buffy was His…no one messed with what was His.
No one.
His fangs sank into her throat, more of an outlet for rage and a show of dominance that a desire to feed.
He pulled back as a familiar scent entered his nose, Buffy's scent.
She was nearby.
'They want me to kill her, I can feel it in my head. I'm not their weapon, I don't take orders.' He stuffed the desire to kill Buffy deep down, burying it in the vast reserves in his mind. 'If they want me to kill her, then she needs to know it. She needs to see I'm not in control, she needs to know I'm the enemy.' Angelus stalked from the shadows and grinned to his wife, playing along as he traded banter with her, his finally killing Heather Thorn to show he was serious.
Disappearing into the night, he knew his kids were a target, and he would get to them first.
Buffy was good protection, but not if she was distracted fighting him.
Connor's home was easily broken into; stealing the sleeping tots was child's play.
Angel glanced down at the two in his arms, the hex in his mind wanting to draw him towards the warehouse on Greenview that Heather had told him about. The spell wanting him to give them up to Wolfram & Hart.
'Like hell I will.' He shoved the idea away. "Mine." He whispered to the sleeping children, his arms tightening around them possessively.
He knew if his mind failed to defeat the spell, that he'd lose them. He knew he couldn't allow that. Walking quickly he knew a place they would be safe from anyone willing to take them, a place even he couldn't retrieve them from without suffering a fast death for trying.
…
Now:
...
Buffy walked the empty streets, searching for her husband along the darkened shadows.
...
Rage filled black eyes scanned the grounds, taking in every detail.
He knew the one he was looking for was nearby.
He could feel it.
He skirted the light, staying lost in the sea of shadows.
…
Hazel green eyes scanned the darkened alley.
Something didn't feel right.
She felt eyes watching her.
…
Angel's gaze landed on his target.
The lone figure walked with a purpose down the empty alley, not a car or person in sight.
Slowly he inched closer, making sure he stayed downwind and kept his footfalls silent. He knew how to stalk, he'd had over a dozen decades of practice.
Jumping up, he grabbed the fire escape of a nearby building and shimmed up and moved like a cool breeze roof to roof until he was directly above the victim.
With a smirk, he jumped down.
…
Buffy twirled the stake in her hands, more out of habit that anything else.
The feeling of being watched was getting stronger, and it really pissed her off.
Suddenly she felt a shift in the wind, something was approaching, fast.
With a rush, a body nearly slammed into her.
On autopilot she spun, sending the stake into his chest, right in the sweet spot, heart.
The vampire shrieked out a death screech and crumbled to dust.
Resuming her walk Buffy sighed, "Where are you?" She whispered to her MIA husband.
…
The man yelped as Angel landed in front of him.
"Hi there Nathan, I'm looking for some information. You're going to help me. Understood?" The living vampire grinned, clamping a clawed hand painfully over the security guard's shoulder.
Nathan Jackson visibly paled seeing the misshapen demon face staring inches away. "Oh God!" He yelped, never actually seeing a vampire in person before.
"Been hearing that a lot lately." Angel smiled.
…
After patrolling fruitlessly for an hour, Buffy headed back to the hotel.
When she entered, everyone was still in the same positions. The arrangement may have changed but everyone was still researching diligently.
"Buffy, good timing. I do believe I've discovered something." Giles addressed her as she walked in.
"What's up?" She asked, leaning against the chair he sat in.
"The type of Hex Angel appears to be under is very specific in its design. The weaver chooses an emotion to attach the spell to and as that particular emotion grows, so does the strength of the spell. Whoever spent it, they've been playing you both into their game. They work a spell here and there to get the desired results, mostly is seems is a constant increase in the tension between you and Angel. When you got close to alleviating the emotional pressure, they'd send another spell to goad you away." Giles explained. "I am unable to ascertain which exact emotion is being used, however you should be able to determine it based on how Angel's behavior has changed lately."
Buffy bit her lip, digesting the info and racking her brain for a specific 'smoking gun'. "I don't know, I mean at the wedding yesterday everything was fine. We laughed and danced and drank champagne…he was fine."
"This spell must have taken days, even a week to manifest fully, something happened recently that must have triggered the hex to strengthen beyond his control. You must know, Buffy."
She shifted uncomfortably, hearing the details made her positive the 'event' in question was her sudden sobering and denial of sex after completely goading Angel into it. She knew now that she was being controlled by a hex too, a different type than Angel's. Her spell seemed to strengthen over her anxiety over having sex, that irrational fear of losing another child.
She nodded, "I think I have a pretty good idea about what the trigger is. Unfortunately knowing that doesn't help us find him."
"I may be able to help with that." Dawn spoke up, her fingers working tirelessly on her laptop.
Buffy's interest was caught instantly. "Really? What've you got Dawnie?"
"The woman found dead in an alley earlier this evening has been identified as Heather Thorn. Check this out." Dawn clicked a picture and on the screen and showed them all a pretty but rigid looking woman in a business suit.
"That would be her." Buffy confirmed.
"Yeah, and guess where she works?" Dawn asked, pulling up records on the computer as Willow had taught her.
The symbol at the top of the webpage showed a wolf, ram and deer.
"Wolfram & Hart." Buffy spat, knowing all that company did to her husband made her sick.
"So dad killed this woman who worked for the company that tried to kill him…I'm not seeing the bad." Connor commented.
"Murder is murder Connor, she may have worked for evil but we have no proof she was. All we do know is she was human." Buffy countered.
"Looks like she recently leased an old factory building on Greenview Ave, its local." Dawn observed, thinking that might be a good place to start looking.
Buffy nodded, "I'll check it out."
"I'll drive you, it'll be quicker." Giles insisted, grabbing his keys.
"I'll just hang here…" Connor shot angrily, wanting action.
"No." Buffy interrupted, "I want the rest of you to head back to AI, find out how to break the spell. Connor, I'm counting on you to keep everyone safe. Ok?"
With that said Buffy and her watcher headed out to Greenview while the gang packed into Xander's car and headed for AI.
…
Angelus's blacken hex filled eyes gleamed in rage as he stalked into the warehouse, determined to kill Ethan for what he'd put him though. No one used him, not as a weapon or as a delivery service.
The man in question sat unaware at his chair in a small office, looking lustfully at a framed photo of Heather Thorn.
"Ethan Rayne…shouldn't you be sharing the bed of some overweight prisoner somewhere?" Angelus greeted the man he hadn't seen in years as if talking with an old friend. Buffy had told him of his meddling in her life over the years he'd been in LA.
Rayne hadn't left a good impression with the demon since the incident with Eyghon. Toying with Buffy hadn't improved his likability.
"Angelus, how good of you to come, although it is considered rude to show up empty handed." The British sorcerer greeted back, a little disappointed he wasn't baring the children.
"It's also considered rude to hex a guy, so I'd say we're even." He shrugged, rage swirling just beneath the surface.
"Ah, yes. I do wish you hadn't have noticed that." Ethan confessed. At the aura rage flowing off Angel, he realized it was he the anger was directed at. 'Oh dear, I do hate when a plan falls apart.'
"I'd ask for an apology, but you won't live long enough for it to matter." The angry living vampire seethed as he stalked forwards, eager to release that urge to snap a neck on the guy who sent it to him.
"I'm expecting my associate to arrive at any moment" Rayne offered, "She and her firm are rather protective of me."
"I was already disappointed in your security guard…he wasn't very helpful." Angelus commented, he hadn't killed they guy, just stuffed him in a dumpster with one hell of a concussion. Maybe he broke a bone or three, he wasn't really paying attention. The guy hadn't been part of the plan.
"Well good help is hard to find these days." The Brit shifted.
Angelus grinned in his anger, "The girl. Pretty, blond, about yay high." He held his hand up to where Heather Thorn has stood right before he snapped her neck.
He watched in delight as Ethan's face paled. "Heather?" He whispered.
"I wouldn't be expecting her, she ran into someone earlier." The demon smiled. "Me."
"I assume you killed her?" The British spell caster asked, standing to face Angel.
"She tried to kill what's mine first." He grinned back. "I'm the only one allowed to do that."
"She didn't deserve to die." He countered.
"Your not going to tell me she was an innocent are you? I could practically smell the blood on her hands. I did the world a favor. At least myself one anyways." He scoffed, having no mercy for anyone trying to take what was his.
"You evil bastard!" Ethan shouted, he may have only started sleeping with Heather as a way to up his stature with Wolfram & Hart, but she had intrigued him and soon he believed he may have loved her.
"How's if feel to have your pussy taken off the menu?" Angelus countered. "Sucks, doesn't it?"
At Ethan's lack of responce Angelus shrugged, "Hey, you wanted me evil…now you've got me evil." A cold smile revealed sharpened fangs, a tongue hungry from blood sliding over his lips. "Any last requests?"
Composing himself, Ethan shook his head. "In light of new evidence, I regret to inform you my contract with Wolfram & Hart is severed with Thorn's demise. So now you demon filth, go to hell." The sorcerer finished but pulling a a 9mm handgun from his robe pocket.
Now free of his contract, he could kill Angelus consequence free.
Angel rushed forwards, the boom of the bullets and the zipping noise as they flew past him didn't even register in his mind. All he saw was Ethan.
Red colored his vision, he wanted blood. A rage so pure it burned along his body, he felt it sparking on his skin and flaming all the way down to the bone.
"Thanks, but I've already been." The vampire countered as he changed forwards.
Within seconds his hand was reaching out for his target, as he reached for Ethan's neck, his left hand exploded in pain as a bullet tore through it and lodged in his shoulder.
Angel didn't stop, he didn't feel the other bullets as they buried into his flesh. All he saw was the bastard that tried to use him to kill his own family, that tried to suck his wife and son into a hell dimension, that tried to steal his children and use them as lab-rats…he wanted revenge for that, but mostly, he wanted to rip Ethan Rayne apart for his direct role in getting him cock-blocked over and over the past week.
The pops of gunfire went unheard through the rage Angelus finally released from confinement. He only saw red, he only felt the sting of anger exploding on his skin, he wanted Ethan's blood, and he wouldn't be denied.
The hex was fully manifested, he'd lost control.
...
When Buffy reached the recently rented warehouse, she told her father/watcher to stay behind her as she handed him the dart gun.
Gunshots suddenly echoed from within the large metal walled building and any careful planning Buffy had been thinking vanished without a trace as she turned and rushed in through the back door.
She hated guns. Also, it was unlikely Angel would be the one using it, thus he was more likely the one being shot at. That thought made Buffy run faster.
...
Rayne gasped back in shock as the bullets did nothing to stop the advancing demon. He wanted to use magic, but too much of his strength was investing in the spells around Buffy and Angel, he didn't have the power left; thus the gun.
He didn't have time to think before Angelus had him in his claws, one hand tightly cutting off the flow of blood to his brain. "Be glad I've got a soul Rayne, otherwise I would have taken my time with you."
"Please." He whispered out, not above begging for mercy.
"You wanted me to snap a neck boy, accept the consequence of it being yours." With that said, he did.
The sorcerer's eyes widened as his neck broke, then those menacing eyes half closed in the extreme disinterest only the dead saw in the world.
Angel had barely dropped the corpse when he was body slammed.
He reeled back as a fist impacted his jaw, throwing his demon into battle mode. With a roar of anger he lashed at his attacker, claws extended and out for blood.
The attacker was fast, dodging better than most, through the haze of red still clouding his vision all he saw was a blur of motion and weakly felt blows raining into his adrenaline rushed body.
When he finally scored a hit, the scent of the blood halted his next blow sparing his attacker a potentially deadly knock to the head but leaving himself open to a sharp blow to the gut.
His knees nearly buckled as far more pain the logical resulted from the hit, causing him to stagger back and pant for air.
"Angel?" Her voice was heavy with concern, far more than she should have for someone trying to kill her.
He forced his eyes open, his vision milky from the rage and pain, but Buffy's face came into focus.
In those hazel-green eyes he saw the love he'd been denied watering in them. Her spell must have been broken by Ethan's death.
His wasn't.
However small it was, he felt a thin grasp on his control, a tiny sliver in the raging madness.
"Get away from me you cold bitch." Slipped from his mouth, he didn't want her anywhere near him; he was losing his grip on the rage. He wasn't going to let Rayne's spell beat him, Buffy wouldn't die by his hand.
He refused to be a weapon, to be used. He'd rather die. And might yet.
Her eyes refused to break contact with his, her will trying to penetrate the darkness. "Thorn is dead. Rayne is dead. It's over Angel; you don't need any more blood on your hands."
He glanced down at his hands, seeing the red stains covering them. He then noticed the blood wasn't theirs. He touched the material of his black shirt, feeling it wet with the crimson liquid. "What do you know, bastard was a better shot than I gave him credit for." He mused sadistically.
Buffy's eyes moved to his shirt as her mind suddenly realized both Heather Thorn and Ethan Rayne died rather bloodlessly, their wounds superficial. There was far too much blood soaking her husband's clothes to be from them.
Then she remembered, she'd heard gunshots when she entered the building. He must have been hit.
It was Angel's blood.
And there was a lot of it.
He staggered back, breathing hard, now feeling the gunshots he'd ignored earlier in his rage. With the adrenaline fading, so was his strength and the larger the red blossoms on his shirt got, the colder he felt.
"You're bleeding." Buffy addressed seriously, her voice high with worry and fear. She moved forwards anxiously, seeing his cheeks growing pale.
His blacken hex filled eyes returned to her face, as if to memorize it one last time. "Yeah, that tends to happen…when you get shot." He slurred out, finding the world suddenly swaying, his eyes lost focus as he collapsed.
"Angel!" Buffy yelled, rushing forward and dropping beside him. Immediately she pulled his shirt up, checking for the source of the blood.
In the center of his gut, there was a small hole, crimson liquid steadily oozing from it with every beat of his heart. Glancing around quickly, she found two more small holes, one high on his chest near his left shoulder and another in his right thigh. Her hands clamped down on the two bloodiest, applying pressure to squeeze the veins shut and stem the flow.
Giles ran into the room seconds later, having heard Buffy yell Angel's name. "Oh dear." He whispered, seeing Rayne's body and his daughter hovering over her husband's limp form.
"Buffy? What happened? Is he…?" He trailed off, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
As he neared he could see Angel's chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. He could also see the ample blood drenching his shirt.
"Ethan shot him." She said quickly, more focused on slowing the bleeding than having a lengthy conversation.
"Right." The watcher understood. "Let's get him to the van quickly."
...
Angel Investigations was only 15 minutes away, but time seemed to stand still to Buffy as she watched Angel grow paler in her lap. She didn't know if the paleness was caused by the steady blood loss or from the flush of a fight receding from his cheeks, but either way it sent a rush of anxiety though her system.
Her watery eyes focused on his fangs, realizing he'd been in vamp face ever since he'd left home hours ago.
Her mind wandered to the body, one Giles identified in passing as the one and only Ethan Rayne.
She realized when Ethan died, she'd felt a rush wash over her, as she sat with Angel's head cradled in her lap it donned on her the feeling was the spell on her breaking.
Gone was a fear and coldness of being intimate with her husband, it was now replaced with fear he'd bleed out before they reached AI and the coldness his skin felt against hers.
...
Slowly the world began to refocus, he'd shut his eyes a moment and when they opened again his head was in Buffy's lap.
Angel felt as if he were watching the world from underwater, the sounds and pictures blurred and distant. Her face came into focus, her lips moving but making no coherent words. He saw panic and fear cross her features, felt the sharp rush of pain as her hands pushed down on his wounds, trying to stem the bleeding.
But the reasons didn't matter at the moment, all he could acknowledge under such basic brain functions was she was causing him pain. Fight or flight mechanisms snapped on, and he couldn't run at the moment, that left fight the only viable option.
Buffy saw the raw attack flash in his eyes just before he lunged at her. Slayer instincts pushed her emotions down as in a quick jerk her fist impacted the sweet spot on his jaw, snapping his head back and knocking him out cold.
She suppressed a tear as he went limp again; knowing having him fighting with her now would increase his heart rate, which would make him bleed faster. Blood from the bullet wounds in his gut, shoulder and leg was already soaked into his clothes; he really couldn't afford to lose much more.
"Giles, drive faster." She encouraged her watcher as she once again put pressure on her husband's injuries as Giles sped them towards AI. Thankfully Angel had remained unconscious while they dragged him into the van, but luck hadn't kept him out for the whole trip.
He stayed down this time.
…
Buffy snapped the cuffs attached to the operating table shut around Angel's wrists and ankles as Cassidy ran into the room with a tray of tools.
They were in the Med-ward, having just arrived and secured the unconscious but thrashing living vampire to the table.
After a nearly 30 minutes of steady blood loss, Angel's violent spasms were weakening.
"Cass?" Buffy questioned in a high scared voice, seeing the heart monitor bleeps growing farther apart.
"I need to get these bullets out; he can't begin to heal with them in place." She protested, trying to find the bullet in his abdomen with a pair of long tipped forceps.
"Won't matter if his heart stops!" Buffy panicked.
"His heart won't stop, and his lack of moving is rather helpful at the moment, get me the suction tube, I think I see it." Cass ordered, pushing a string of intestines aside as she rooted around behind the muscle.
Giles was informing the gang on what happened while the two worked to stabilize Angel.
"Got it." The MD cheered as she pulled out the small deformed projectile, dropping onto a steel pan and hearing the metallic clank.
She slapped a bandaged over the wound, already seeing signs of unnaturally fast healing and told Buffy to keep the pressure on as she inserted an IV into Angel right arm since his left shoulder and hand had gunshot injuries.
"Ok, that aught to pep him up a bit." She assured Buffy as the blood began to seep through the tube and into his vein.
A moment later, she began searching the second gunshot in his shoulder. "Ok, I see it, it's deep…shit, I can't tell if it nicked his lung or not. I should be able to…" she stuck the end of the forceps in reaching for the bullet.
Angel's blackened eyes suddenly snapped open as the tip of the forceps brushed the nerve cluster in his shoulder and caused his arm to spasm. In a cold rage he screamed and thrashed, fighting his bonds and the pain throbbing from each of the multiple gunshots.
A mix of English and Gaelic swearwords rained from his mouth between wordless screams of frustration and pain.
Cass pulled the instrument out, afraid of paralyzing the limb as he writhed, his moving delaying any treatment for the injuries.
With a shout he yanked at his handcuffed left arm again, the steel at his wrists biting into the skin. The bullet shifted against the rib bone, the jagged edge nicking the main artery and sent a spray of blood out onto Buffy's face.
She blinked in shock a moment as with each beat of his heart, another jet squirted out.
"F*ck! That artery ruptures completely; he bleeds to death in under 15 seconds!" Cass warned, trying to hold him down.
The slayer gasped and instantly slammed her hands down on her husband's chest and arm, forcing them still.
He roared out in rage, the hex still burning through his mind and pushing at his sanity.
Cass quickly grabbed a clamp to pinch the artery shut, but he was still jerking under the slayers grip.
After a second, his body suddenly relaxed, his eyelids fluttering as if he were trying to stay awake.
Cass paused at the unexpected relaxation and feared a moment he had bleed out, she turned and spotted Connor pulling a syringe from the IV line.
"Makes it easier?" He asked.
Cass sighed in relief that he'd gone still from drugs and not blood loss, "Much, thanks."
A few minutes later, she managed to cauterize the bleeding artery and pried the bullet from the rib just below his collar bone.
Buffy sat silently by the bed helping pass tools to Cass and sewing up the wounds after the bullets were removed. Connor worked to clean the bloodstains from his father's skin and rub generous amounts of disinfectant into the wounds.
Cass pulled one more bullet out, from his right upper thigh.
Angel's left hand had a hole in the middle where a bullet had blown through before lodging in his shoulder, there were also two minor flesh wounds where the bullets went though and a few grazes where the projectiles just nicked him.
All in all, when if came to a fatal hit, either Ethan was a lousy shot, or Angel was good at dodging.
As Cass moved to repair the damage to his hand, Buffy moved to wrap his leg in gauze.
"Oh, umm, this needs to come off, his hand could swell and it can cutoff blood flow to the finger." Cassidy easily slid the ring off with blood as a lubricant and placed Angel's wedding band in Buffy's palm.
She nodded and closed her hand tightly around it.
...
About twenty minutes later Angel's wounds were bandaged and Cass was re-checking the monitors.
"Ok, I think I stopped at least 80% of the bleeding." The MD announced as she wiped her hands on a cloth.
"80%? What about the other 20%?" Buffy panicked.
Cass shrugged,"Well he was gut in the gut, there is bound be some internal bleeding. I fixed what I could see but unless I pull everything out and explore..." She trailed, to emphasis the work involved. "I'm 90% positive his healing will solve the problem soon anyways."
"But he's still bleeding?" Connor asked, looking worried at the still form bound to the table.
"His vitals are good, not great, but considering he did just have three bullets removed and bled a generous amount onto my floor, he's doing pretty well. I'm going to give him some more fluids, a vitamin boost and plenty of blood. Trust me, his demon side is in overdrive from that spell right now, those wounds will be closed in an hour or less." The doctor assured them.
Buffy and Connor nodded slowly, trusting Cass's instincts.
...
Connor went back upstairs to re-join the search for the kids and a way to break the hex on Angel while Buffy sat beside her husband. She gently removed the birthstone pendent Angel had given her for mother's day last year, this year's had been swept under the rug due to the miscarriage. He'd offered to get her something, but she made him promise he wouldn't, she hadn't wanted to celebrate, it had been too soon for her.
Holding the charm in her hands she laced the silver chain though Angel's wedding band, letting the now clean ring hang with the Claddagh style heart. She glanced at the two little stones, a tear forming for her two missing children and wondering where they could be.
Angel knew, and when he woke, he would tell her.
He wouldn't have a choice.
...
TBC