Disclaimer and stuff in the first part.
The Night Remembers - Part 8
By Jill
"Tell me again why I'm sitting here?" Xander yawned and glanced at his
girlfriend - oh, stop, she was his fiancée now - who'd fallen asleep on
Willow's bed in her dorm, a paper firmly clutched in each hand.
"Because you were there," she retorted and gave him a look as if he was
dumb.
"I was where?" maybe he was dumb but he didn't understand a word. He'd
joined the girls an hour ago. They met up this evening to reading some old
magic stuff and he'd just shown up to get Anya when Willow had insisted for
him to stay. She had an important question to ask, she said. And now he was
sitting here for an hour and so far they hadn't talked a word with him.
Until now.
Willow and Tara had been engrossed in hushed conversation, while Anya
concentrated on a test she was reading. His ex-demon fiancée had been
totally focused on her task and dead serious in a way Xander had never seen
her before, but now she was zoned out and who could blame her. It was way
after midnight and the two witches who were sitting cross-legged on the
ground still didn't seem to tire.
"You were at the mansion when Angel regained his soul. I want to know
exactly what happened," Willow turned to look at him.
"Huh?" Xander's eyes widened. "This is about the curse? Why are we talking
about Dead Boy's curse?"
"Just because," the redhead wasn't particularly interested in discussing the
subject with him. Angel had never been one of his favorite persons and
although he gave up his blunt hostility, she wasn't sure how he'd react if
he knew what they were looking for.
"Oh, no," he shook his head, stood up, and began to pace the room. "Not this
way witchy-girl. I want to know what this is about."
Willow sighed and rolled her eyes. She heard Tara giggle behind her and
exchanged a quick smile with her lover. "Alright. Buffy asked me to look
into Angel's curse. The one Miss Calendar translated, you know the version
we found on the disc."
"The Buffster asked you to do that?" he looked at her in disbelief. "But how
does she know about all this? I thought she had..."
Willow sighed again, this time louder, "Look, Xander. I don't want to
explain this, I'm tired and I want to go to sleep, so please answer my
question. What was it like?"
"I have no idea," he replied after studying her face for a moment. She would
probably scream in a second if he didn't tell her. "I was too busy getting
Giles to the hospital." He narrowed his eyes, his expression suddenly cold,
"You remember Giles? The watcher? The one our dear friend Angel tortured for
hours."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," she waved an impatient hand at him, biting her lower
lip. "And it wasn't Angel who tortured him, but that's not the point." She
looked at Tara again. "So that's a dead end. With Buffy's memory loss, he
would've been the only one and he's... oh wait," her eyes lit up, "oh no,
Spike was probably gone too," her face fell again.
"W-well, w-we c-could ask A-Angel," Tara suggested.
"Angel? Well, I don't know, I mean what could he tell us. Although..." she
tipped her forefinger against her chin. "Maybe we should ask Angel. It's
just, I don't want him to get his hopes high and then..." she trailed off,
giving her lover a pointed look.
"I s-see y-your p-point," she agreed.
"Wait a sec..." Xander walked over to Willow and sat down beside her on the
ground, glancing over her shoulder. "Are you working soul magic here?"
She sighed loudly, was he dense? "Yeah, of course. What did you think we're
doing? Playing twenty questions? Buffy asked me to look into Angel's curse,
and I promised. So that's what we're doing. Okay?"
"Okay?" he gave her an irritated look. "Why would she... oh wait..." the
expression on his face was almost comical, "Please, don't tell me, she's
fallen in love with him again. Oh, now that's just great. Dead Boy's back
for a week and she's already head over heels for him again. That's really-"
he stopped abruptly, "so you told her about the curse, right? Very good of
you," he patted Willow on the shoulder. "We wouldn't want Angel's evil self
running around in Sunnydale again, killing our friends."
"No, we wouldn't want that," Willow's voice held a trace of anger. "But that
wasn't the reason. Did you forget that Angel knows? He would never risk his
soul. No, the problem was that he was distant to her although she had the
feeling he was drawn to her. So she asked me and I thought it was good for
her to know."
"Xander?" Anya's sleepy voice asked and the ex-demon blinked, trying to wake
up again. "Oh, there you are," she said, sitting up slowly. "I thought I
heard your voice."
"Hi honey," he smiled at her.
Anya blinked again, then rubbed her eyes. Facing Willow and Tara, she said,
"This is hard work, you know," as if she wanted to apologize her falling
asleep, "Romani isn't the most common language. Anyways. I made a
cross-check, or whatever, and the result is," she held up the two papers in
her hands, "this," she waved the left, "isn't the same as this," now she
waved the right.
"You speak Romani?" Xander almost yelped in surprise. "You never told me,"
he accused his girlfriend.
"You never asked," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Wait a moment," Willow glanced at Tara, and then back at Anya, "Did you
just say, the two papers are different? The Romani version isn't the English
version?"
"Nope," Anya shook her head in the negative and yawned. "The Gypsy-version
is the way you'd expect it to be. Those Romanis have always been a bit ...
weird. And so is this." She nodded at the paper in her left. "Full of
unnecessary words and phrases." She inwardly shook her head. Romanis!
"Alright, so there are different phrases," the redheaded witch thought about
it for a moment, then asked, "Anything else?"
"Sure," the ex-demon replied, as if it was obvious. "There's that part you
would probably call the 'happiness clause'," she held the paper in front of
her and pointed at several lines, then put the text aside to pick up the
version Jenny Calendar had translated, "while in this, there isn't a word
about it. It just summons a soul back into a human body. Period."
"Wh-" Willow's throat closed up so tightly, she wasn't able to say the word.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God, was all she could think. Her head snapped around to
Tara and she saw the same thoughts in her lover's eyes. There wasn't a
happiness clause in Jenny Calendar's version. That would mean...
"Oh God," the redhead breathed. Now her eyes darted to Xander, "Do you know
what that means?" she asked. "Do you understand what that means?"
"Call me stupid, but... no," he replied a little bit confused. Why were
Willow and Tara so upset? He glanced at Anya, but she just yawned and looked
no other than usual - but then this was Anya, and she was bored quite
easily, probably her more then 1100 years of life experience, not many
surprises left.
"I-it m-means that there i-is n-no c-clause in A-Angels c-course," Tara said
slowly, looking at Willow, who nodded after a moment.
"No clause, you mean..." Xander stared at them, then swallowed. "You mean,
there wasn't any danger for him to become Angelus again?"
Willow shook her head frantically, tears spilling over and she grabbed
Tara's hand for support. She was a bad friend. God, she was worse than that.
She was worth nothing as a friend. She remembered all the anguish Buffy went
through and Angel ... "Oh God," she moaned, turning and burying her head in
her lover's chest.
"Hey, hey," Xander leaned over and put a comforting hand on her back. "It's
not your fault."
"Not my fault?" she whirled around, her face only inches from his. "Not my
fault," she repeated. "Yeah, I know. But still I didn't do anything,
absolutely nothing to find out if there could be a difference. Miss Calendar
translated the curse as a gift, not as a punishment, do you understand. And
we were too stupid to understand what she'd done!" she cried, "Buffy and
Angel went through hell - Angel even literally, and we did nothing to
prevent it." Xander flinched at her last words, but Willow was too upset to
notice it.
"We were all so blinded by anger, even hatred," she added with a pointed
look at Xander, "we never even made the effort to help. Not once." She
emphasized her point by pounding her fist against her thigh. "We accepted
Angel's help when he was back, but all of us - except Buffy - wanted him
punished. Even I," a sob came from her throat and she pressed her hand
against her trembling lips. "I held Buffy in my arms when she cried her soul
out, after Angel broke up with her, and
I thought it was for the best." She reached out and grabbed Xander's shirt
with both hands, pulling at it, "Did you hear me? I said it was for the
best. Oh God," she moaned again and then began to sob uncontrollably.
Xander just held her and over her head his eyes met first Anya's, then
Tara's, then he tightened his embrace around his friend's shaking form. How
on earth were they going to tell Angel? And how in Hell was he ever going to
live with the knowledge that he had lied to Buffy all those years ago?
***
Angel hadn't been able to sleep. Again. After his heart-to-heart with Buffy,
he felt restless. So he left the mansion and was now strolling through
Restfield, hoping that some stupid vampire would show. He wanted nothing
more than to hit something - hard.
She loved him. She said she loved him. No, he corrected himself, she said
she had all these feelings, but he was certain there had been love in her
eyes. The memory loss had changed her, she didn't try to hide her feelings,
simply because all the hurt and pain was lost to her as well. He ran a hand
through his hair and sighed while he made his way between the headstones.
Why was this happening to Buffy? Why did she have to go through that entire
forbidden love thing again? She said she understood. But did she really? The
hope in her eyes had been unmistakable. And he didn't want that for her.
Feeling love, hoping for fulfillment that she'd never have. He would never
be able to give her even a glimpse of the love she deserved. And more than
anything he wanted her have that, to have love and laughter, even if it was
slowly killing him to see her with another man.
Riley. Just his name made the demon inside of him roar in anguish, and had
his gut clenched into one gigantic knot. No, he didn't want her with another
man, but there was nothing he could do.
Angel took a deep unnecessary breath and closed his eyes for a moment to
savor the silence around him, the peace a place like this... his eyes
snapped open. There was a noise coming from one of the crypts. Slowly Angel
crept closer, moving silently, only a shadow in the night, every step of
perfection gained in 250 years as a vampire.
Approaching the crypt he saw a light shining in there and then heard a
voice. Angel stopped. Then sighed. It was a very well known, and God help
him, a very drunken voice. Pushing the door of the crypt open he stepped
inside. "I don't believe it," he said crossing his arms in front of his
chest, while Spike was looking up to him through blurry eyes.
"Angelus," a drunken smile crept over the younger vampire's features. "Well,
what an honor for us lower creatures. The vampire with a soul honors my home
with his presence."
"You know," Angel leaned his large frame against the wall, "what's even more
pathetic than a vampire with a chip? It's a drunken vampire with a chip."
"Sod off," Spike glared at him and tried to struggle on his feet, but failed
and crashed back on the ground, hitting his head in the process. "Oops," he
said, grinning. "A bit unsteady tonight."
"Feeling sorry for yourself, aren't you. What's the matter, don't the ladies
favor you anymore, now that you can't bite?" the older vampire asked. "Poor
Spike, now you need booze to keep you company?"
"Shut your bloody mouth," his grand-childe hissed, and took another gulp
from the bottle in his hand. Miraculously it had survived him crashing down.
"You have no idea how I feel."
"You don't feel, Spike. Well, you feel sorry for yourself, of course,"
Angel's showed no mercy, on the contrary, a smile played on his lips. "But
besides this, you're just an evil demon. Chip or no, you might be able to
blind a teenager like Dawn, but don't try your act on me, because I'm not
buying it. We know each other too well to play games."
"What the hell do you want?" the blond vampire spat. "I'm minding my own
business here, so get lost."
"I wasn't looking for you," his grand-sire replied. "I found you by
accident, but I have a question. What the Hell do you want from Buffy? Why
were you following her and why were you looking at her like that?"
"Like what?" Spike felt better all of a sudden. Was there jealousy in the
other vampire's voice? Well, well, maybe he could finally get his fill.
"DON'T," Angel warned, growling deep in his chest, "I might have a soul, but
don't think I forgot how to deal with a childe who forget how to behave
towards his elders. So answer me. What's going on?"
"That's none of your damned business," his grand-childe retorted, bringing
the bottle back to his lips.
It flew away and crashed into the wall before he was able to drink and
suddenly Spike was pulled to his feet, a strong hand closing around his
throat, holding him upright against the wall, he was face to face with his
grand-sire who had changed into his game-face and whose eyes flashed
dangerously, "I warned you, Spike," Angel hissed through prolonged canines.
"You left, Angelus," Spike had no intention to back down. "You left her two
years ago, you have absolutely no right to behave like this. This isn't any
of your business. Go back to L.A. and help your lost souls."
"I'm making it my business," the older vampire growls, not letting go of his
insubordinate grand-childe, "Buffy will always be my business. I'm warning
you Spike. Stay away from her. Do you understand? Keep your filthy hands off
her. She is the Slayer and you're nothing."
That moment something inside of Spike snapped, "She doesn't want me," he
shouted, changed into demon features himself. "Can you even hear? She never
wanted me." Frustration and alcohol had taken their toll and the younger
vampire began to sob uncontrollably.
Shock showed on Angel's features seeing his grand-childe breaking down like
that and with a jerky movement he let go of the blond vampire. He hadn't
seen Spike like that since... "You love her?" he asked disbelieving.
"Yeah," the other vampire slumped down to the floor again, "yeah, I love
her." His voice sounded defeated, tired, and more than anything frustrated.
"But she won't have me, because like you she thinks I'm nothing but some
evil vampire."
"You are an evil vampire," Angel said, but couldn't help the pity rising
inside of him.
"Evil - my ass," Spike spat, running a hand over his face, embarrassed that
he'd lost it like that. "I have a bloody chip. I'm nothing."
His grand-sire took a deep breath and turned away, suddenly not able to look
at him anymore. All he wanted was to leave this place. No, he didn't really
pity Spike. He was a demon who wouldn't hesitate to kill people the moment
the chip was out of his head, but Angel felt uncomfortable. This wasn't
right. Killing vampires was one thing, but this, this wasn't a solution
either. "I have to go, Spike," he said and his hand moved towards the door.
"Sure," Spike waved his hand at his back, "go. I didn't want you here in the
first place."
Angel heard him struggle on his feet, and walk into one corner of the crypt
obviously getting another bottle. "Spike," he hesitated for a moment, and
heard his grand-childe stop in his tracks, "I'm sorry, for... treating you
like that."
"Oh, for God's sake," the younger vampire seemed really angry now and his
grand-sire turned back to him. "Don't bloody apologize. You've been the
first to treat me like an equal, so don't ruin it now." He stared at Angel,
the great Angelus, his infamous grand-sire, the Scourge of Europe, a member
of the Order of Aurelius and a bloody do-gooder. "She loves you," he said
slowly, hating himself for it, but feeling good too. "She never loved anyone
else. Certainly not that loser, Captain Cornbread. If I was you, I wouldn't
think twice, I would take what others would kill for."
"Spike..."
The blond vampire made a dismissive gesture, "I know, I know, the curse and
your soul. I know all this. But don't you think, mate, if you really love
her the way you say, don't you think you'd find a way? Isn't it worth the
risk? Or are you too much a bloody coward? Because if you are, you should
step aside and leave her to someone who earns her."
Angel stared at his grand-childe for a long moment. Then without another
word he disappeared into the night.
... to be continued