The Night Remembers - Part 42
"Welcome Warrior," a beautiful, melodic voice sounded through the air, then
a figure materialized, dressed all in gold, her forms as beautiful as the
voice.
"Bloody Hell," another, not so beautiful voice, replied and Angel groaned.
All he wanted to know is what had happened. He could remember the Gate
gleaming in some unearthly light and then... nothing. Just plain nothing and
now he was waking up in some wacky nightmare - it was the only way to
describe it, regarding the fact that Spike was in it.
Only, it wasn't a dream at all. All Angel wanted to know was where Buffy was, if
she was alive, hurt, injured, the worry almost consuming him. He wanted to go and
look for her, but no. Being a warrior he was stuck with some supernatural
being and his annoying grand-childe. Talk about a lovely day in the life of
a vampire.
The smile on the face of the golden creature disappeared and she - at least
it looked like a woman - shot Spike a stern look. "Be quiet. I will not warn
you again."
The blond vampire stared at the figure, taken aback for a moment, but didn't
say anything, just raised a brow. What the hell had he gotten himself into
now?
"Warrior," the woman's attention shifted back to Angel again. "You did
well," she said, smiling.
"Where are we? And can you tell us what happened?" the dark-haired vampire
wanted to know.
"You are in," the figure smiled again, "well, for lack of a better term, you
could call it Heaven."
"Are we dead then?" Angel asked quickly.
"Of course we're dead, Peaches," Spike jumped in. "We've been dead for quite
a while now."
Irritated, Angel's head jerked around, his eyes glaring at his grand-childe,
then wandering back to the figure. "Heaven? How can this be Heaven with him
here?" he asked.
"Hey," his grand-childe shouted indignantly, "No need to get insulting.
HEY!" he yelled suddenly being propelled backward against an invisible
wall.
"Impertinent creature," the golden woman growled. "I said you should be
quiet. Do not interfere again," she warned.
"You know you're pretty when you're aggressive," he grinned, then raised his
hands, "Hey, that was a compliment. Not even compliments? Well, I'll be
quiet then."
"That would be good," the woman said, but for the first time it looked as if
she had to suppress a grin. With a little sigh and a shake of her head she
turned back to Angel, "Warrior, you were brought before me, to explain what
happened today."
The dark-haired vampire frowned but didn't say anything.
With a nod of her head the woman approved of his reaction and continued,
"You overcame the Gate of Hell today," she said, "No other warrior has ever
done that before. We owe you our thanks. You didn't save mankind for the
first time today, so we thought we should congratulate you in person and
tell you how pleased we are with you."
Angel said nothing, just looked at her, and her eyes became intent,
questioning, "Are you not happy about it? You should be proud."
"There is nothing be proud of. I did my job, I... we do it every day. So why
all this?" he gestured with his hand, motioning at the woman, then at the
surroundings.
"We thought it might please you to know you did well."
"Where is Buffy?" Angel asked suddenly ignoring her last comment.
Understanding flickered in the woman's eyes and a gentle smile played on her
lips, "Ah, the little warrior," she nodded, "Your connection always
intrigued us. It was fascinating. We were watching you with great interest."
Now Angel's eyes narrowed, "Were you? Well you must have had a good show
then," his voice dripped of sarcasm, "Was it amusing to see her suffer? How
twisted do you have to be to enjoy this?"
His challenging eyes met hers and for a short moment something like anger
was in them, but it was soon gone, replaced by a neutral expression. "It is
not your place to criticize us," she snapped. "Don't overstep your
boundaries."
If Angel hadn't been so weary of the previous - and still ongoing - night,
he might have snapped back. As it was he just shrugged, not really
interested anymore if she approved of him or not.
"Hey, if you're so grateful, you could grant him a wish, couldn't you?,"
Spike suggested, not liking the feeling to be left out.
The figure's eyebrows snapped up, her indignant gaze turning to the blond
vampire, "A wish?"
"Yeah, you know, he says what he wants to have, and you give it to him. Like
Christmas. You have to know Christmas. You invented it in the first place. A
wish," Spike suddenly thought that there was some fun in this after all. You
didn't get the opportunity to insult something like a god every day.
The haughty brows rose even more, "We are not to interfere with fate," she
informed him. "We will not grant wishes. It would change the balance of good
and evil. It is for our warriors to level things."
The blond vampire looked at her for a long moment, and then turned to his
grand-sire, "'Our warriors'," he mimicked, "You know mate, I might have a
chip in my head but hell, you really didn't get the better end of the deal.
If she was my boss, I would just stake me and get over with it."
Angel shook his head wearily, and then asked, gazing at the golden creature,
"So will you tell me what happened to Buffy?" he asked after a moment.
The woman gave him an assessing glance, then seemed to relax, the anger
gone, "The little warrior should've been with you, but unfortunately," she
sighed, rolling her eyes very human like, "not all things are perfect up
here. Sometimes," she twisted her head, looking at a little white figure
standing in the back, "an inexperienced messenger..." she sighed again, "We
told her to bring you and the blond," another heavy sigh and her eyes went
to Spike, "which obviously was a mistake."
The dark-haired vampire suppressed a grin the very last moment. Wanting
Buffy and getting Spike instead, yes, things definitely weren't all perfect
up here. A soulless vampire in Heaven. Go figure! On the other hand, and now
the grin wasn't to be suppressed anymore, Spike would do anything to hide
that little incident from the other vampires. He saw Spike narrowing his
eyes at him and chuckled.
"So Buffy is alive?" Angel asked, coming back to the most urgent subject.
"Yes, very much so," the figure replied, inclining her head, "She's just
lost in the darkness. All you have to do is find her, if..." she trailed
off, suddenly tilting her head. "There is another option."
Angel's ears perked up, "Another option."
"We cannot grant wishes or change fate, but... we could offer you a reward.
You could stay. Your suffering would be over. Your soul would be free, resting
eternally up here."
"That isn't an option," the dark-haired vampire replied without hesitation.
"I can't just leave. There's still Buffy, my friends and I have work to do.
Very slowly the smile came back to the woman's face and also reached her eyes
now, "Yes," she said softly, "I expected you to say that. So you will go
back?" When she saw him nod, she inclined her head, "Very well. You will
return." Her gaze drifting towards Spike again, she raised a brow, "And you
want to take *that* with you?"
"Hey," Spike yelled, feeling insulted. He hated being called an 'it', he was
definitely male, he knew it.
Angel looked at his grand-childe, he would pay for this without saying, but at
the moment there really wasn't another choice, "Yes, by all means, it includes
him."
"Very well," the figure nodded again, "so will it be." She was about to
raise her hand, to dismiss the two vampires, when Angel lifted his hand.
"But where is Buffy?"
"You will know. Listen to your heart and you will know," she said smiling
again. "You can go. This matter is closed. You did well. We will not
forget."
She began to disintegrate and the two vampires found themselves falling,
faster and faster, and then their conscious faded.
****
"Tea, anyone?" Giles came from the kitchen in Buffy's house looking over the
assembled people in the overcrowded living room.
"Yes, please," Wesley gave him a grateful nod, then gently pushed a loose
strand from Cordelia's face whom he was still holding in his arms. "What
about you?"
"No, thanks," she sniffed, her eyes bleary and red from crying, "But I'd
take a glass of water."
"Of course," Giles replied, glad he had something to busy himself with. The
emptiness in his chest made the Sahara desert a children's playground.
"Anybody else?"
"Giles," Willow entangled herself from her lover's arms and touched the
watcher's shoulder. "Don't you want to sit down? I can take care of the
tea."
"Yeah, she's right," Kate stood as well. "We can do that."
Sudden indignation rose inside the watcher, "I'm not an old man who needs to
be pampered," he told them, his body rigid, his eyes angry. "Don't treat me
like that."
"We don't," the redhead looked at him gently. "We don't. But we all have
rested. You've been on your feet non-stop. You need to sit down. Giles, we
need you."
"Oh yeah?" his eyes shooting daggers at her, his anger and frustration
exploded, "You need me, huh? For what? I couldn't even keep my slayer
alive!"
The whole room froze at his words, everyone staring at the watcher, whose
body was still trembling with rage. Willow's hand flew to her mouth,
covering it in shock, her eyes tearing up again. "Oh, Giles," she whispered,
being the first to find her voice again. "That's not true. It wasn't your
fault-"
"The hell it was," he shouted, "If I'd done my research better, if we'd been
more careful." He pointed at his former colleague, "Wesley realized at once
that something wasn't quite right about General Brookridge, but did I? Oh,
no. Because I was too blind, and too stupid and I now I want you to bloody
leave me alone." He turned and disappeared in the kitchen, leaving everyone
to stare after him in speechless shock.
Dawn's anguished sob was the first noise, Gunn gathering her in his arms,
holding her tight, experiencing a rush of feelings as if holding his sister
Alanna again. Willow started after Giles, but Kate held her back. "No," she
said quietly, "Let me. I know, I don't know him very well, but in my line of
work I've got experience with something like that. And sometimes it's better
to talk to someone who isn't that close."
After only a short hesitation the redhead nodded, then squeezed the police
officer's arm. "Thanks," she whispered. Kate just smiled and went for the
kitchen.
"Oh God," Willow blinked rapidly, her eyes darting to the ceiling, "How are
we ever going to get through this?"
*
Kate found Giles slamming cupboard doors, muttering something
unintelligible, and then jerking the fridge open, with stiff movement
he was searching for milk. His body language was unmistakable and all but cried
'stay away'. Well, Kate thought, one doesn't ever get what one wants and
braced herself for the inevitable.
"You put on quite a show in there," she said, her voice casual, and sat on
one of the barstools, bracing her elbows on the counter.
He went even more rigid, but he didn't turn, or even acknowledge her
presence. With controlled movements he took the boiling water from the stove
and poured it over the tea bags. Tea bags, he groaned inwardly, no culture
in an American household. Setting the kettle back, he put it down so hard
that some water spilled over his hand. Swearing an oath, he bit off a sound
of pain, still ignoring his company completely.
"Auto-mutilation isn't going to help, you know," she commented, leaning her
chin on her entwined hands.
"So far," he gritted out, "I thought you were a nice person, but that could
easily change," he warned.
"Oh, well," she shrugged, "I'll take the chance."
"Just leave."
She sighed, "No, I won't. Giles, bottling all up like that won't help. Guilt
won't either. You need to deal with this. If not for yourself, then for all
the kids out there who depend on you. They're lost without you."
Slamming the empty tray he'd been holding down, he spun around and faced
her, "Yeah? Well, they're lost with me too. Or didn't you notice. Two young
women died today. Two brave, young women." Then more controlled he added,
"And two vampires. And although they've been dead for a long time, I can't
just wipe their faces from my conscience either."
"That honors you," she said gently, lifting her head, and putting her hands
down on the counter, "But shouting at the others won't help. Building walls
won't help. Forcing yourself to feel nothing won't help. It will only help
the ones who survived. I know it hurts to lose someone you love, but-"
"I didn't just lose someone I loved, although by God I loved that girl. The
point is I was responsible for her. I sent her down there, and she, believed
that I wouldn't let her down. And you know what?" he asked, guilt almost
overwhelming him, "I didn't. I let her die, because I wasn't thorough
enough. Now, Detective Lockley, how do suggest I deal with that? Or have you
run out of answers now?"
After only a short hesitatin, she said, "Yes, actually I have. How would you like
to be informed about more deaths, their deaths," she turned and pointed towards
the living-room. "Because now that they've lost their protectors, they'll be lost
without you."
*
"I hope she'll get through," Xander said after a while, his eyes the spot
where Giles' had been standing before. "I've never seen him like that,"
there was a tremor in his voice and a tinge of panic, Willow had never heard
before. "God, I feel so numb, so unreal. As if nothing of this has really
happened."
"But it has," Cordelia lifted her head from Wesley's shoulder, wiping the
tears from her cheeks, not even thinking about her smeared makeup or how it
would ruin her complexion. This was not the moment to think about herself.
"Maybe I should go to the kitchen and have a look. I mean I'm not that close
to Giles either."
"Cordelia," Wesley put a restraining hand on her arm, "I don't-"
He was interrupted by the sound of the brunette's cell phone. Startled
everyone looked at her, following her movements while she searched for it in
her purse, "That might be Riley," she said, pulling it out, "He wanted to...
This is Cordelia Chase," she said.
All of a sudden all color drained from her face, the hand holding the phone
began to tremble badly, while her body slumped back on the couch. "Wh-
what?" she stammered, "Y-yes, I- I'm still there. Yes, we... we're all fine.
Only some bruises," they heard her say. She took a steadying breath, "What?
Buffy? No... no, I'm sorry, Buffy isn't with us." A sob suddenly tore from
her throat and she wasn't able to talk anymore.
"What?" Wesley asked concerned, but she just shook her head and held the
cell out for him. He took it, and then said, "Hello. This is Wesley, a
friend of Cordelia's. Who am I talking-" Now his face lost all its color as
well, his hand gripping the phone so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"Angel!" he exclaimed in a mixture of shock and relief.
The eyes of the others in the room widened, some of them were gasping, Willow's
gaze connecting with Cordelia's in an unspoken question. The brunette just
nodded, tears running down her face, an odd mixture of relief and grief.
Relief that he was alive, but deep grief that they had to tell him about
Buffy's fate.
"Oh God," Wesley ran his free hand over his face, "Angel. Are you all right?
Oh, thank God. What? Spike is with you? Uh... well, that's good too, I
think. No. No, Angel, Buffy isn't- What? Angel, wait, I need to tell you-
But-" he sighed loudly, "Alright. If you think... I'm not going to hold you
back, but the hellmouth is closed. Nobody could- Pardon?" his face changed
listening to the other end of the line, the desperation faded and was
replaced by hope, something the others registered with disbelief. After
another moment, they heard him saying a "yes", and then he shut the phone
down.
Steadying himself with a ragged breath, he let out a short laugh, "Well," he
said finally. "As you've probably guessed, Angel is alive. So is Spike."
Hearing a noise from the doorway he looked up, his eyes meeting Giles', and
he smiled, "And believe it or not, but Angel is sure that Buffy and Faith
are alive as well."
... to be continued
"Welcome Warrior," a beautiful, melodic voice sounded through the air, then
a figure materialized, dressed all in gold, her forms as beautiful as the
voice.
"Bloody Hell," another, not so beautiful voice, replied and Angel groaned.
All he wanted to know is what had happened. He could remember the Gate
gleaming in some unearthly light and then... nothing. Just plain nothing and
now he was waking up in some wacky nightmare - it was the only way to
describe it, regarding the fact that Spike was in it.
Only, it wasn't a dream at all. All Angel wanted to know was where Buffy was, if
she was alive, hurt, injured, the worry almost consuming him. He wanted to go and
look for her, but no. Being a warrior he was stuck with some supernatural
being and his annoying grand-childe. Talk about a lovely day in the life of
a vampire.
The smile on the face of the golden creature disappeared and she - at least
it looked like a woman - shot Spike a stern look. "Be quiet. I will not warn
you again."
The blond vampire stared at the figure, taken aback for a moment, but didn't
say anything, just raised a brow. What the hell had he gotten himself into
now?
"Warrior," the woman's attention shifted back to Angel again. "You did
well," she said, smiling.
"Where are we? And can you tell us what happened?" the dark-haired vampire
wanted to know.
"You are in," the figure smiled again, "well, for lack of a better term, you
could call it Heaven."
"Are we dead then?" Angel asked quickly.
"Of course we're dead, Peaches," Spike jumped in. "We've been dead for quite
a while now."
Irritated, Angel's head jerked around, his eyes glaring at his grand-childe,
then wandering back to the figure. "Heaven? How can this be Heaven with him
here?" he asked.
"Hey," his grand-childe shouted indignantly, "No need to get insulting.
HEY!" he yelled suddenly being propelled backward against an invisible
wall.
"Impertinent creature," the golden woman growled. "I said you should be
quiet. Do not interfere again," she warned.
"You know you're pretty when you're aggressive," he grinned, then raised his
hands, "Hey, that was a compliment. Not even compliments? Well, I'll be
quiet then."
"That would be good," the woman said, but for the first time it looked as if
she had to suppress a grin. With a little sigh and a shake of her head she
turned back to Angel, "Warrior, you were brought before me, to explain what
happened today."
The dark-haired vampire frowned but didn't say anything.
With a nod of her head the woman approved of his reaction and continued,
"You overcame the Gate of Hell today," she said, "No other warrior has ever
done that before. We owe you our thanks. You didn't save mankind for the
first time today, so we thought we should congratulate you in person and
tell you how pleased we are with you."
Angel said nothing, just looked at her, and her eyes became intent,
questioning, "Are you not happy about it? You should be proud."
"There is nothing be proud of. I did my job, I... we do it every day. So why
all this?" he gestured with his hand, motioning at the woman, then at the
surroundings.
"We thought it might please you to know you did well."
"Where is Buffy?" Angel asked suddenly ignoring her last comment.
Understanding flickered in the woman's eyes and a gentle smile played on her
lips, "Ah, the little warrior," she nodded, "Your connection always
intrigued us. It was fascinating. We were watching you with great interest."
Now Angel's eyes narrowed, "Were you? Well you must have had a good show
then," his voice dripped of sarcasm, "Was it amusing to see her suffer? How
twisted do you have to be to enjoy this?"
His challenging eyes met hers and for a short moment something like anger
was in them, but it was soon gone, replaced by a neutral expression. "It is
not your place to criticize us," she snapped. "Don't overstep your
boundaries."
If Angel hadn't been so weary of the previous - and still ongoing - night,
he might have snapped back. As it was he just shrugged, not really
interested anymore if she approved of him or not.
"Hey, if you're so grateful, you could grant him a wish, couldn't you?,"
Spike suggested, not liking the feeling to be left out.
The figure's eyebrows snapped up, her indignant gaze turning to the blond
vampire, "A wish?"
"Yeah, you know, he says what he wants to have, and you give it to him. Like
Christmas. You have to know Christmas. You invented it in the first place. A
wish," Spike suddenly thought that there was some fun in this after all. You
didn't get the opportunity to insult something like a god every day.
The haughty brows rose even more, "We are not to interfere with fate," she
informed him. "We will not grant wishes. It would change the balance of good
and evil. It is for our warriors to level things."
The blond vampire looked at her for a long moment, and then turned to his
grand-sire, "'Our warriors'," he mimicked, "You know mate, I might have a
chip in my head but hell, you really didn't get the better end of the deal.
If she was my boss, I would just stake me and get over with it."
Angel shook his head wearily, and then asked, gazing at the golden creature,
"So will you tell me what happened to Buffy?" he asked after a moment.
The woman gave him an assessing glance, then seemed to relax, the anger
gone, "The little warrior should've been with you, but unfortunately," she
sighed, rolling her eyes very human like, "not all things are perfect up
here. Sometimes," she twisted her head, looking at a little white figure
standing in the back, "an inexperienced messenger..." she sighed again, "We
told her to bring you and the blond," another heavy sigh and her eyes went
to Spike, "which obviously was a mistake."
The dark-haired vampire suppressed a grin the very last moment. Wanting
Buffy and getting Spike instead, yes, things definitely weren't all perfect
up here. A soulless vampire in Heaven. Go figure! On the other hand, and now
the grin wasn't to be suppressed anymore, Spike would do anything to hide
that little incident from the other vampires. He saw Spike narrowing his
eyes at him and chuckled.
"So Buffy is alive?" Angel asked, coming back to the most urgent subject.
"Yes, very much so," the figure replied, inclining her head, "She's just
lost in the darkness. All you have to do is find her, if..." she trailed
off, suddenly tilting her head. "There is another option."
Angel's ears perked up, "Another option."
"We cannot grant wishes or change fate, but... we could offer you a reward.
You could stay. Your suffering would be over. Your soul would be free, resting
eternally up here."
"That isn't an option," the dark-haired vampire replied without hesitation.
"I can't just leave. There's still Buffy, my friends and I have work to do.
Very slowly the smile came back to the woman's face and also reached her eyes
now, "Yes," she said softly, "I expected you to say that. So you will go
back?" When she saw him nod, she inclined her head, "Very well. You will
return." Her gaze drifting towards Spike again, she raised a brow, "And you
want to take *that* with you?"
"Hey," Spike yelled, feeling insulted. He hated being called an 'it', he was
definitely male, he knew it.
Angel looked at his grand-childe, he would pay for this without saying, but at
the moment there really wasn't another choice, "Yes, by all means, it includes
him."
"Very well," the figure nodded again, "so will it be." She was about to
raise her hand, to dismiss the two vampires, when Angel lifted his hand.
"But where is Buffy?"
"You will know. Listen to your heart and you will know," she said smiling
again. "You can go. This matter is closed. You did well. We will not
forget."
She began to disintegrate and the two vampires found themselves falling,
faster and faster, and then their conscious faded.
****
"Tea, anyone?" Giles came from the kitchen in Buffy's house looking over the
assembled people in the overcrowded living room.
"Yes, please," Wesley gave him a grateful nod, then gently pushed a loose
strand from Cordelia's face whom he was still holding in his arms. "What
about you?"
"No, thanks," she sniffed, her eyes bleary and red from crying, "But I'd
take a glass of water."
"Of course," Giles replied, glad he had something to busy himself with. The
emptiness in his chest made the Sahara desert a children's playground.
"Anybody else?"
"Giles," Willow entangled herself from her lover's arms and touched the
watcher's shoulder. "Don't you want to sit down? I can take care of the
tea."
"Yeah, she's right," Kate stood as well. "We can do that."
Sudden indignation rose inside the watcher, "I'm not an old man who needs to
be pampered," he told them, his body rigid, his eyes angry. "Don't treat me
like that."
"We don't," the redhead looked at him gently. "We don't. But we all have
rested. You've been on your feet non-stop. You need to sit down. Giles, we
need you."
"Oh yeah?" his eyes shooting daggers at her, his anger and frustration
exploded, "You need me, huh? For what? I couldn't even keep my slayer
alive!"
The whole room froze at his words, everyone staring at the watcher, whose
body was still trembling with rage. Willow's hand flew to her mouth,
covering it in shock, her eyes tearing up again. "Oh, Giles," she whispered,
being the first to find her voice again. "That's not true. It wasn't your
fault-"
"The hell it was," he shouted, "If I'd done my research better, if we'd been
more careful." He pointed at his former colleague, "Wesley realized at once
that something wasn't quite right about General Brookridge, but did I? Oh,
no. Because I was too blind, and too stupid and I now I want you to bloody
leave me alone." He turned and disappeared in the kitchen, leaving everyone
to stare after him in speechless shock.
Dawn's anguished sob was the first noise, Gunn gathering her in his arms,
holding her tight, experiencing a rush of feelings as if holding his sister
Alanna again. Willow started after Giles, but Kate held her back. "No," she
said quietly, "Let me. I know, I don't know him very well, but in my line of
work I've got experience with something like that. And sometimes it's better
to talk to someone who isn't that close."
After only a short hesitation the redhead nodded, then squeezed the police
officer's arm. "Thanks," she whispered. Kate just smiled and went for the
kitchen.
"Oh God," Willow blinked rapidly, her eyes darting to the ceiling, "How are
we ever going to get through this?"
*
Kate found Giles slamming cupboard doors, muttering something
unintelligible, and then jerking the fridge open, with stiff movement
he was searching for milk. His body language was unmistakable and all but cried
'stay away'. Well, Kate thought, one doesn't ever get what one wants and
braced herself for the inevitable.
"You put on quite a show in there," she said, her voice casual, and sat on
one of the barstools, bracing her elbows on the counter.
He went even more rigid, but he didn't turn, or even acknowledge her
presence. With controlled movements he took the boiling water from the stove
and poured it over the tea bags. Tea bags, he groaned inwardly, no culture
in an American household. Setting the kettle back, he put it down so hard
that some water spilled over his hand. Swearing an oath, he bit off a sound
of pain, still ignoring his company completely.
"Auto-mutilation isn't going to help, you know," she commented, leaning her
chin on her entwined hands.
"So far," he gritted out, "I thought you were a nice person, but that could
easily change," he warned.
"Oh, well," she shrugged, "I'll take the chance."
"Just leave."
She sighed, "No, I won't. Giles, bottling all up like that won't help. Guilt
won't either. You need to deal with this. If not for yourself, then for all
the kids out there who depend on you. They're lost without you."
Slamming the empty tray he'd been holding down, he spun around and faced
her, "Yeah? Well, they're lost with me too. Or didn't you notice. Two young
women died today. Two brave, young women." Then more controlled he added,
"And two vampires. And although they've been dead for a long time, I can't
just wipe their faces from my conscience either."
"That honors you," she said gently, lifting her head, and putting her hands
down on the counter, "But shouting at the others won't help. Building walls
won't help. Forcing yourself to feel nothing won't help. It will only help
the ones who survived. I know it hurts to lose someone you love, but-"
"I didn't just lose someone I loved, although by God I loved that girl. The
point is I was responsible for her. I sent her down there, and she, believed
that I wouldn't let her down. And you know what?" he asked, guilt almost
overwhelming him, "I didn't. I let her die, because I wasn't thorough
enough. Now, Detective Lockley, how do suggest I deal with that? Or have you
run out of answers now?"
After only a short hesitatin, she said, "Yes, actually I have. How would you like
to be informed about more deaths, their deaths," she turned and pointed towards
the living-room. "Because now that they've lost their protectors, they'll be lost
without you."
*
"I hope she'll get through," Xander said after a while, his eyes the spot
where Giles' had been standing before. "I've never seen him like that,"
there was a tremor in his voice and a tinge of panic, Willow had never heard
before. "God, I feel so numb, so unreal. As if nothing of this has really
happened."
"But it has," Cordelia lifted her head from Wesley's shoulder, wiping the
tears from her cheeks, not even thinking about her smeared makeup or how it
would ruin her complexion. This was not the moment to think about herself.
"Maybe I should go to the kitchen and have a look. I mean I'm not that close
to Giles either."
"Cordelia," Wesley put a restraining hand on her arm, "I don't-"
He was interrupted by the sound of the brunette's cell phone. Startled
everyone looked at her, following her movements while she searched for it in
her purse, "That might be Riley," she said, pulling it out, "He wanted to...
This is Cordelia Chase," she said.
All of a sudden all color drained from her face, the hand holding the phone
began to tremble badly, while her body slumped back on the couch. "Wh-
what?" she stammered, "Y-yes, I- I'm still there. Yes, we... we're all fine.
Only some bruises," they heard her say. She took a steadying breath, "What?
Buffy? No... no, I'm sorry, Buffy isn't with us." A sob suddenly tore from
her throat and she wasn't able to talk anymore.
"What?" Wesley asked concerned, but she just shook her head and held the
cell out for him. He took it, and then said, "Hello. This is Wesley, a
friend of Cordelia's. Who am I talking-" Now his face lost all its color as
well, his hand gripping the phone so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"Angel!" he exclaimed in a mixture of shock and relief.
The eyes of the others in the room widened, some of them were gasping, Willow's
gaze connecting with Cordelia's in an unspoken question. The brunette just
nodded, tears running down her face, an odd mixture of relief and grief.
Relief that he was alive, but deep grief that they had to tell him about
Buffy's fate.
"Oh God," Wesley ran his free hand over his face, "Angel. Are you all right?
Oh, thank God. What? Spike is with you? Uh... well, that's good too, I
think. No. No, Angel, Buffy isn't- What? Angel, wait, I need to tell you-
But-" he sighed loudly, "Alright. If you think... I'm not going to hold you
back, but the hellmouth is closed. Nobody could- Pardon?" his face changed
listening to the other end of the line, the desperation faded and was
replaced by hope, something the others registered with disbelief. After
another moment, they heard him saying a "yes", and then he shut the phone
down.
Steadying himself with a ragged breath, he let out a short laugh, "Well," he
said finally. "As you've probably guessed, Angel is alive. So is Spike."
Hearing a noise from the doorway he looked up, his eyes meeting Giles', and
he smiled, "And believe it or not, but Angel is sure that Buffy and Faith
are alive as well."
... to be continued