The Night Remembers - Part 38
Angels do not have wings as birds do, but fly many times as fast, at the
same pace that human thoughts travel. - Hildegard of Bingen
It was hot. Incredibly so, and still the heat surrounding them was nothing
compared to the heat in her mind. Were the others feeling it too? A quick
glance to her lover showed Buffy that Angel was fighting for concentration
as well.
She remembered him and Spike talking about the pull. How were they feeling
down here? How were they able to stand it?
She reached out, her trembling hand finding Angel's, his large instantly
closing around her tiny one, the coolness of his skin feeling like a breeze
on a hot summer day. They connected, without looking at each other, and
walked on.
It was a strange feeling to walk amongst demons, vampires and their masters
without being seen. Like a ghost strolling amongst the living.
Their faces were contorted, some of them looking even more demonic than
usual. Buffy heard Faith gasp beside her and following the gaze of her
sister slayer she saw the most ugly demon ever. It was huge, at least ten
feet, of a yellowish color and completely covered with slime.
"It's a hybrid."
Spike's calm voice almost startled her. "What?" she asked confused.
"I said... Nevermind. It isn't a pure-race demon," he explained. "One parent
is a chaos demon."
Buffy looked at Angel, but he was still staring straight ahead, walking
beside her as if he hadn't heard his grand-childe speak. "How do you know?"
she asked the bleached blond vampire and then it hit her, "Wait a second.
You mean chaos demon like in Dru ran off with one?"
"Yeah," Spike replied with a frown.
"Oh boy," the blond slayer couldn't help but grin when she saw Faith
chuckle, "That must have been a bummer, to be dumped for something so...
uh... so..."
"Just say it. It's ugly. Disgusting. But they are mean as hell - no pun
intended - and she said I had gone soft. Soft, ha, my ass," he snorted.
"Loony bitch."
Buffy stifled another grin, her gaze flickering to her lover again. His hand
around hers had tightened, but he still hadn't so much as looked at her. He
remembered, she realized, and felt her guts knot. He remembered the months -
no centuries - he'd spent down here. In possession of his soul. Tortured.
Lonely. Hopeless.
And he did.
Oh, yes, Angel remembered all right. All the centuries were a blur in his
mind, but he remembered the moment he was sucked into the vortex, the moment
he thought Buffy had betrayed him, the moment before his memory kicked in.
And they had known. They had understood his pain, his guilt, had known
everything the demon had done, and used it. To make him feel everything
tenfold. They had tortured him physically, yes, but that had been nothing
against the torture inflicted on his mind, his soul. First they'd thought
he was a demon like the others, but soon they learned what he was and used
it.
After a while his soul and mind had sunk into oblivion, shutting down, no
more able to deal with the images, the false hopes, the broken promises.
Buffy had once asked him about hell and he had told her. Pieces. He would
never be able to tell her everything. How could he when he only understood a
part of it? How should he explain evil? Not an evil vampire, or an evil
demon, but evil, pure, unleveled evil. Evil that enjoyed pain, mental pain,
more than anything. Evil that wanted to break souls, spirits, wanted to
destroy the personality of beings.
Even the demons were tortured down here, but unlike a soul they could find
pleasure in pain, physical pain. Because they didn't have a soul they were
immune to other ways of torture.
Angel's eyes caught a vampire hanging from the ceiling, its wrists chained, its
face contorted in pain, but even then, underneath, they could find a twisted
pleasure in pain. Disgusted the dark-haired vampire turned his head away,
squeezing his lover's hand almost painfully.
He needed her. Had maybe never needed her as much as he needed her right
this moment, by his side, his anchor, and his reality. Together you are
strong. He had to remember it. Besides the mere words, there was a deeper,
holier, meaning in this. He felt it although he couldn't grasp it at the
moment.
He heard them joking, knew that it was just a way to distract themselves
from the horrifying scenes surrounding them. It was unreal to walk in the
demon dimension amongst some of the most powerful vampires that had ever
roamed the earth, now damned to a life down here, and not to be seen. Angel
had met some of them, talked with them, even... No, he wasn't one of them
anymore. He had a soul and his place was not here.
They had tried to convince him that his soul didn't make a difference, that
he was nothing but a demon - like the rest of them.
But he wasn't. He had once believed it himself, but he knew it better now. A
demon wouldn't save people's lives, wouldn't have helped to make this world
better. And more importantly, a person as pure and good as Buffy could never
love a demon, an evil vampire, the way she loved him. It made all the
difference. She was his salvation, his lover, his friend, and his soul. And
she was walking beside him, their hands firmly clasped, a sign for their
connection, deep, true and eternal.
Together you are strong.
"It's scary down here," she whispered beside him, tugging at his arm. She
was strong, but she needed him too. It was a good feeling.
Together you are strong. There was a deeper meaning.
"I know," he whispered back.
"Yeah, I suppose you do."
He stopped, lifted one hand, and traced the frown on her forehead. "No
guilt," he said firmly. "No more. We talked about this. The past is the
past. This is the present and the future is waiting for us."
She looked at him long and intense, "Yes," she nodded finally, "I know."
They exchanged a quick smile then followed Spike and Faith who'd already
gone further into the dimension towards the Gate of Hell.
"You know, Peaches," the bleached blond vampire said without turning, "I'm
just trying to figure out how it feels to stay here for a, say, century
vacation."
"Shut up," Faith hissed at him.
"Do you want to try?" Angel replied, his voice holding an unmistakable
warning.
Spike held up his hands, "Hey, hey, no offense! Can't a guy ask?"
"No," Buffy told him firmly, giving him the eye. "Watch your mouth, fang
boy."
"But she can get insulting! How is this? Are there different rules for her
and for me?"
"Yeah," three voices replied unison.
****
"How long?" Xander asked, his hands playing nervously with the hem of his
shirt.
"Not even ten minutes," Willow replied, her gaze locked on the hole in front
of them, her mind far away with her lover who was tiring with each minute.
She knew that Tara wouldn't be able to hold the spell much longer. She had
to hold it then, but it was only a matter of time when they'd both be too
exhausted. "Guys. In a few minutes I need to take over from Tara. After
that, don't talk to me, okay?"
"Alright," Giles nodded, coming to stand beside her.
"Do you want to sit down?" Wesley asked.
"No," Willow flashed him a grateful smile, "But thanks for the offer. Only
my mind is tired, my body is so flooded with adrenaline, I think I could
stay up for another week."
The others looked at her with understanding, in Riley's face it was mixed
with guilt. "I'm sorry," he said, when he joined the group again, Graham
standing behind him. "I'm really very sorry for the bomb."
"It doesn't matter anymore," Giles replied, but he could still feel anger.
He wasn't sure if it was really directed towards Riley or the Initiative or
authorities in general, like Wesley, he had never liked the army, too much
obeying without asking.
"I never wanted them to face this danger," Riley said honestly.
Something like pity welled up in the watcher and he put a hand on the
commando's shoulder, "I know. But their going for the gate has nothing to do
with your bomb. We didn't know if it would be necessary, but it would have
been with or without the Initiative interfering."
"Yes," Riley nodded, "but I should've told you, should've acted on my
conscience and not on orders. It would've given you an advantage. There was
time..." he trailed off, pointing at the cell phone tucked to his belt.
"At least you realize it was wrong," Dawn came to stand beside the two men.
When he looked at her, she held up a hand. "I liked you Riley," she told
him, "but I'm not sure if I've forgiven you yet." Their eyes met and he
realized it was for much more than just his mistake tonight. She was only
fourteen years old, but so much wiser than others at her age. But then, she
was the slayer's sister; it obviously made you grow up far before your time.
And regarding the fact she lived in Sunnydale it was probably for the best.
"Guys," Willow said from behind. "I need to take over now. Tara will be here
in a bit. If you need any magic, ask her."
"Yes, all right," Giles took her arm. "You're doing well."
"Thanks," she smiled at him, then suddenly her eyes glazed over, became
unfocussed, her body went rigid.
"It must be extremely exhausting," Wesley remarked looking at her.
"They're strong," Giles replied, "throughout the last year they've become
incredibly powerful witches. I never expected them to develop so fast, but I
suppose it's the joined energy."
"Yeah, well, something has to come out of their... relationship," Anya
commented, tilting her head, "just to think... I mean, they're might be
madly in love with each other, even passionate, but two women... something's
missing. Not that I mind, don't get me wrong, but a woman's... uh...
equipment isn't," she stopped seeing the others staring at her as if she'd
turned into a frog, "What?"
"Honey..." Xander firmly took her arm to pull her to his side.
"I'm just pointing out the facts. Women aren't built like men under their
waistline. Something's missing." What was the matter with them, she
wondered.
"Thank you, Anya, but we are all," Giles glanced at Dawn, and then amended,
"almost all adults," giving her a pointed look.
Dawn made a dismissive gesture, "Don't hold back for my sake. I've got sex
Ed in school. I know what a man looks like."
The watcher turned beet red and was glad it was only dimly lit around him,
"Er, yes, that's... uh... good to know."
"Yeah," the slayer's sister smiled at him brightly.
"Uh-oh," Kate's gasp had them all turning around and their eyes widened when
they saw that another Initiative squad was coming towards them, lead by an
older, important looking man, whose face was firmly set.
"Agent Finn," he bellowed, approaching the group and his troupes. "What are
you doing here?"
"Carrying out your orders, sir," Riley replied, saluting at his superior.
"Who are these civilians?" he asked, his eyes swaying haughtily over the
group.
"This," Riley looked at Giles, "is Mr. Rupert Giles, he is the slayer's
watcher."
"I see," the man replied, his eyes telling clearly that he wasn't the least
impressed and he didn't even bother to greet the man in front of him. "And why
are you with them? They might be connected to the slayer, but they are mere
civilians nevertheless."
"They fight with the slayer, sir. They have experience-"
"Experience," the man shouted, his eyes hard and cold as stones, "Agent
Finn, have you lost your mind?"
Riley felt heat creeping up his neck and face. "Sir?" he asked, confused.
"How are they fighting hostiles?," the man asked, "With their bare hands?" He
laughed, but it was as cold as his eyes. Those narrowed now, "Get them away
from here. We're taking over."
"With respect, sir, but the two slayers just entered the demon's dimension,
they're involved already," Riley tried to reason with his superior, who as
Giles guessed, had to be General Brookridge.
"They entered the demon's dimension?" the General chuckled as if his agent
had just made the best joke of the century. "Do you think I'm stupid?"
"Sir?"
"Nobody is able to enter the Demon's Dimension. This is just-," he shook his
head. He had never liked Riley Finn, not the way General Markham did. Agent
Finn too often forgot about rules, forgot that the Initiative was what
should be important to him - first and foremost. "Never mind. We're clearing
the place. For another 344."
"WHAT?" Riley shouted, horror in his and Graham's eyes, while the others
just stared confused at the General.
"A what?" Dawn asked her eyes resting quizzically on the commando.
Riley discussed his fate only for a moment. He liked being a soldier, he
liked working for the good cause, but he had done this before and would live
with it again, he knew he could. Even without Buffy. "They're going to place
another bomb," he said, his voice firm and his eyes looking at his General
coolly.
"Agent Finn," the General hissed.
"They need to know," Riley replied, straightening his spine. "And I refuse
to let anyone die for what you call the good cause."
"Arrest him," he bellowed to his guards.
"Nobody moves," Gunn and his friends were suddenly surrounding the General
and his soldiers, their weapons directed at them. "And nobody places a bomb.
Our friends are down there, and we're going to wait until they're back."
"You are making a big mistake. We are talking about the fate of the world
here," General Brookridge argued, "It's the life of thousands against your
friends. You have-"
"We don't have to do anything," Giles' voice was as sharp as a whip, his
eyes as cold as the General's. "We will not sacrifice our friends for your
stupid ideas. You cannot close the hellmouth by placing a bomb. Do you
understand?"
"If you say so," the General replied, his eyes narrowed. But there was a
smile playing around his lips. A smile that could have made deserts freeze
over.
... to be continued
Angels do not have wings as birds do, but fly many times as fast, at the
same pace that human thoughts travel. - Hildegard of Bingen
It was hot. Incredibly so, and still the heat surrounding them was nothing
compared to the heat in her mind. Were the others feeling it too? A quick
glance to her lover showed Buffy that Angel was fighting for concentration
as well.
She remembered him and Spike talking about the pull. How were they feeling
down here? How were they able to stand it?
She reached out, her trembling hand finding Angel's, his large instantly
closing around her tiny one, the coolness of his skin feeling like a breeze
on a hot summer day. They connected, without looking at each other, and
walked on.
It was a strange feeling to walk amongst demons, vampires and their masters
without being seen. Like a ghost strolling amongst the living.
Their faces were contorted, some of them looking even more demonic than
usual. Buffy heard Faith gasp beside her and following the gaze of her
sister slayer she saw the most ugly demon ever. It was huge, at least ten
feet, of a yellowish color and completely covered with slime.
"It's a hybrid."
Spike's calm voice almost startled her. "What?" she asked confused.
"I said... Nevermind. It isn't a pure-race demon," he explained. "One parent
is a chaos demon."
Buffy looked at Angel, but he was still staring straight ahead, walking
beside her as if he hadn't heard his grand-childe speak. "How do you know?"
she asked the bleached blond vampire and then it hit her, "Wait a second.
You mean chaos demon like in Dru ran off with one?"
"Yeah," Spike replied with a frown.
"Oh boy," the blond slayer couldn't help but grin when she saw Faith
chuckle, "That must have been a bummer, to be dumped for something so...
uh... so..."
"Just say it. It's ugly. Disgusting. But they are mean as hell - no pun
intended - and she said I had gone soft. Soft, ha, my ass," he snorted.
"Loony bitch."
Buffy stifled another grin, her gaze flickering to her lover again. His hand
around hers had tightened, but he still hadn't so much as looked at her. He
remembered, she realized, and felt her guts knot. He remembered the months -
no centuries - he'd spent down here. In possession of his soul. Tortured.
Lonely. Hopeless.
And he did.
Oh, yes, Angel remembered all right. All the centuries were a blur in his
mind, but he remembered the moment he was sucked into the vortex, the moment
he thought Buffy had betrayed him, the moment before his memory kicked in.
And they had known. They had understood his pain, his guilt, had known
everything the demon had done, and used it. To make him feel everything
tenfold. They had tortured him physically, yes, but that had been nothing
against the torture inflicted on his mind, his soul. First they'd thought
he was a demon like the others, but soon they learned what he was and used
it.
After a while his soul and mind had sunk into oblivion, shutting down, no
more able to deal with the images, the false hopes, the broken promises.
Buffy had once asked him about hell and he had told her. Pieces. He would
never be able to tell her everything. How could he when he only understood a
part of it? How should he explain evil? Not an evil vampire, or an evil
demon, but evil, pure, unleveled evil. Evil that enjoyed pain, mental pain,
more than anything. Evil that wanted to break souls, spirits, wanted to
destroy the personality of beings.
Even the demons were tortured down here, but unlike a soul they could find
pleasure in pain, physical pain. Because they didn't have a soul they were
immune to other ways of torture.
Angel's eyes caught a vampire hanging from the ceiling, its wrists chained, its
face contorted in pain, but even then, underneath, they could find a twisted
pleasure in pain. Disgusted the dark-haired vampire turned his head away,
squeezing his lover's hand almost painfully.
He needed her. Had maybe never needed her as much as he needed her right
this moment, by his side, his anchor, and his reality. Together you are
strong. He had to remember it. Besides the mere words, there was a deeper,
holier, meaning in this. He felt it although he couldn't grasp it at the
moment.
He heard them joking, knew that it was just a way to distract themselves
from the horrifying scenes surrounding them. It was unreal to walk in the
demon dimension amongst some of the most powerful vampires that had ever
roamed the earth, now damned to a life down here, and not to be seen. Angel
had met some of them, talked with them, even... No, he wasn't one of them
anymore. He had a soul and his place was not here.
They had tried to convince him that his soul didn't make a difference, that
he was nothing but a demon - like the rest of them.
But he wasn't. He had once believed it himself, but he knew it better now. A
demon wouldn't save people's lives, wouldn't have helped to make this world
better. And more importantly, a person as pure and good as Buffy could never
love a demon, an evil vampire, the way she loved him. It made all the
difference. She was his salvation, his lover, his friend, and his soul. And
she was walking beside him, their hands firmly clasped, a sign for their
connection, deep, true and eternal.
Together you are strong.
"It's scary down here," she whispered beside him, tugging at his arm. She
was strong, but she needed him too. It was a good feeling.
Together you are strong. There was a deeper meaning.
"I know," he whispered back.
"Yeah, I suppose you do."
He stopped, lifted one hand, and traced the frown on her forehead. "No
guilt," he said firmly. "No more. We talked about this. The past is the
past. This is the present and the future is waiting for us."
She looked at him long and intense, "Yes," she nodded finally, "I know."
They exchanged a quick smile then followed Spike and Faith who'd already
gone further into the dimension towards the Gate of Hell.
"You know, Peaches," the bleached blond vampire said without turning, "I'm
just trying to figure out how it feels to stay here for a, say, century
vacation."
"Shut up," Faith hissed at him.
"Do you want to try?" Angel replied, his voice holding an unmistakable
warning.
Spike held up his hands, "Hey, hey, no offense! Can't a guy ask?"
"No," Buffy told him firmly, giving him the eye. "Watch your mouth, fang
boy."
"But she can get insulting! How is this? Are there different rules for her
and for me?"
"Yeah," three voices replied unison.
****
"How long?" Xander asked, his hands playing nervously with the hem of his
shirt.
"Not even ten minutes," Willow replied, her gaze locked on the hole in front
of them, her mind far away with her lover who was tiring with each minute.
She knew that Tara wouldn't be able to hold the spell much longer. She had
to hold it then, but it was only a matter of time when they'd both be too
exhausted. "Guys. In a few minutes I need to take over from Tara. After
that, don't talk to me, okay?"
"Alright," Giles nodded, coming to stand beside her.
"Do you want to sit down?" Wesley asked.
"No," Willow flashed him a grateful smile, "But thanks for the offer. Only
my mind is tired, my body is so flooded with adrenaline, I think I could
stay up for another week."
The others looked at her with understanding, in Riley's face it was mixed
with guilt. "I'm sorry," he said, when he joined the group again, Graham
standing behind him. "I'm really very sorry for the bomb."
"It doesn't matter anymore," Giles replied, but he could still feel anger.
He wasn't sure if it was really directed towards Riley or the Initiative or
authorities in general, like Wesley, he had never liked the army, too much
obeying without asking.
"I never wanted them to face this danger," Riley said honestly.
Something like pity welled up in the watcher and he put a hand on the
commando's shoulder, "I know. But their going for the gate has nothing to do
with your bomb. We didn't know if it would be necessary, but it would have
been with or without the Initiative interfering."
"Yes," Riley nodded, "but I should've told you, should've acted on my
conscience and not on orders. It would've given you an advantage. There was
time..." he trailed off, pointing at the cell phone tucked to his belt.
"At least you realize it was wrong," Dawn came to stand beside the two men.
When he looked at her, she held up a hand. "I liked you Riley," she told
him, "but I'm not sure if I've forgiven you yet." Their eyes met and he
realized it was for much more than just his mistake tonight. She was only
fourteen years old, but so much wiser than others at her age. But then, she
was the slayer's sister; it obviously made you grow up far before your time.
And regarding the fact she lived in Sunnydale it was probably for the best.
"Guys," Willow said from behind. "I need to take over now. Tara will be here
in a bit. If you need any magic, ask her."
"Yes, all right," Giles took her arm. "You're doing well."
"Thanks," she smiled at him, then suddenly her eyes glazed over, became
unfocussed, her body went rigid.
"It must be extremely exhausting," Wesley remarked looking at her.
"They're strong," Giles replied, "throughout the last year they've become
incredibly powerful witches. I never expected them to develop so fast, but I
suppose it's the joined energy."
"Yeah, well, something has to come out of their... relationship," Anya
commented, tilting her head, "just to think... I mean, they're might be
madly in love with each other, even passionate, but two women... something's
missing. Not that I mind, don't get me wrong, but a woman's... uh...
equipment isn't," she stopped seeing the others staring at her as if she'd
turned into a frog, "What?"
"Honey..." Xander firmly took her arm to pull her to his side.
"I'm just pointing out the facts. Women aren't built like men under their
waistline. Something's missing." What was the matter with them, she
wondered.
"Thank you, Anya, but we are all," Giles glanced at Dawn, and then amended,
"almost all adults," giving her a pointed look.
Dawn made a dismissive gesture, "Don't hold back for my sake. I've got sex
Ed in school. I know what a man looks like."
The watcher turned beet red and was glad it was only dimly lit around him,
"Er, yes, that's... uh... good to know."
"Yeah," the slayer's sister smiled at him brightly.
"Uh-oh," Kate's gasp had them all turning around and their eyes widened when
they saw that another Initiative squad was coming towards them, lead by an
older, important looking man, whose face was firmly set.
"Agent Finn," he bellowed, approaching the group and his troupes. "What are
you doing here?"
"Carrying out your orders, sir," Riley replied, saluting at his superior.
"Who are these civilians?" he asked, his eyes swaying haughtily over the
group.
"This," Riley looked at Giles, "is Mr. Rupert Giles, he is the slayer's
watcher."
"I see," the man replied, his eyes telling clearly that he wasn't the least
impressed and he didn't even bother to greet the man in front of him. "And why
are you with them? They might be connected to the slayer, but they are mere
civilians nevertheless."
"They fight with the slayer, sir. They have experience-"
"Experience," the man shouted, his eyes hard and cold as stones, "Agent
Finn, have you lost your mind?"
Riley felt heat creeping up his neck and face. "Sir?" he asked, confused.
"How are they fighting hostiles?," the man asked, "With their bare hands?" He
laughed, but it was as cold as his eyes. Those narrowed now, "Get them away
from here. We're taking over."
"With respect, sir, but the two slayers just entered the demon's dimension,
they're involved already," Riley tried to reason with his superior, who as
Giles guessed, had to be General Brookridge.
"They entered the demon's dimension?" the General chuckled as if his agent
had just made the best joke of the century. "Do you think I'm stupid?"
"Sir?"
"Nobody is able to enter the Demon's Dimension. This is just-," he shook his
head. He had never liked Riley Finn, not the way General Markham did. Agent
Finn too often forgot about rules, forgot that the Initiative was what
should be important to him - first and foremost. "Never mind. We're clearing
the place. For another 344."
"WHAT?" Riley shouted, horror in his and Graham's eyes, while the others
just stared confused at the General.
"A what?" Dawn asked her eyes resting quizzically on the commando.
Riley discussed his fate only for a moment. He liked being a soldier, he
liked working for the good cause, but he had done this before and would live
with it again, he knew he could. Even without Buffy. "They're going to place
another bomb," he said, his voice firm and his eyes looking at his General
coolly.
"Agent Finn," the General hissed.
"They need to know," Riley replied, straightening his spine. "And I refuse
to let anyone die for what you call the good cause."
"Arrest him," he bellowed to his guards.
"Nobody moves," Gunn and his friends were suddenly surrounding the General
and his soldiers, their weapons directed at them. "And nobody places a bomb.
Our friends are down there, and we're going to wait until they're back."
"You are making a big mistake. We are talking about the fate of the world
here," General Brookridge argued, "It's the life of thousands against your
friends. You have-"
"We don't have to do anything," Giles' voice was as sharp as a whip, his
eyes as cold as the General's. "We will not sacrifice our friends for your
stupid ideas. You cannot close the hellmouth by placing a bomb. Do you
understand?"
"If you say so," the General replied, his eyes narrowed. But there was a
smile playing around his lips. A smile that could have made deserts freeze
over.
... to be continued