Finished this chapter at last.
Thanks to everyone for the feedback!! Please keep it coming. It gives me a happy!
Angel never thought he had seen anything so beautiful, with the exception of Buffy of course. It was like thousands of brightly coloured stars strung together, all surrounding him. They sparkled randomly.
He was floating. It was like he was on drugs, on a high.
*Is this what heaven is like?* he wondered.
There was a loud thud before pain ripped through him, like every nerve was on fire.
The pretty lights went out, he was left in complete darkness. The pain subsided.
*Or not*
His senses adjusted and he realised he was in a small room, like a cell. There were chains on the wall, hanging limply unused. He grabbed one of them and pulled himself up.
"Buffy!" he yelled. It seemed to bounce off the walls around him. He growled in frustration.
Suddenly a door appeared in front of him. It was a few inches bigger than him, and had a small window with three bars blocking it.
Where the gaps were, bright light shone through making it impossible to see what was behind it.
Angel took an unneeded breath and opened it.
He found a long corridor that had about three doors either side and ended in one final large door.
He headed straight for the final door, ignoring all the rest. Angel put his hand on the doorknob and twisted it, but found it locked.
He took and step backwards before giving it a hard kick. It splintered, another sharp kick and it flung open.
A large room was behind it. It was more like the size of a ball-room. A small girl sat directly in the middle.
She had light brown hair and looked about seven to eight years old. She had her knees pulled up to her chin and was rocking herself gently back and forth.
Angel stepped through the door way and cleared his throat.
The little girl looked up.
"Angel," she said softly, "I've been waiting for you."
"Is Buffy here?" he asked her.
"Yes and no." she replied.
"I don't have time for games. Where is she?" he snapped.
The girl stood and smiled. "No need to get snippy with me, Mr Angel."
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I'm Celia."
Angel stopped in surprise. "I thought you died." he blurted out, before realising what he had said.
She laughed, musical almost non-human laugh. "That's correct Mr Angel, but aren't you dead?"
"Yeah, but I mean.... Are you a vampire? No, you're not a vampire." He babbled.
"I'm not a vampire, I'm a ghost."
"Right." The norm' then, "So have you seen Buffy?" he said impatiently.
"You have to answer a question first."
He glanced around uneasily, "Then I can take her home?"
"Answer the question first. What's her favourite colour?" Celia asked.
"This is my question? It's a bit lame as far as questions go." Angel complained.
Celia just glared at him. She had the same green eyes as Buffy.
"Her favourite colour is blue." He sighed.
"Wrong." Celia snapped.
"Yes it is, I remember her clearly telling me her favourite colour was blue." Angel exclaimed.
Celia nodded. "Death was her gift."
"Ok, this doesn't make sense. What the hell is going on? Where is she?"
Celia stood up, walked over to him and took his hand.
"Tell her it wasn't her fault." she told him.
"What wasn't her fault?" he asked.
"My death," She said simply, "Close your eyes."
"That doesn't usually go so well." He mumbled, but did as he was told.
There was a bang and he felt Celia's hand leave his.
"Hello." A soft, familiar voice said.
Angel opened his eyes. "Hello Mrs Summers." He greeted.
"So you're looking for my daughter?" she asked.
"Yeah, do I have to answer another question where the answer doesn't actually make sense?" Angel asked.
She laughed, "No."
Angel sighed in relief. "Is Buffy here?"
"She's through there." Joyce said pointing to a door.
Angel hurried to the door.
"Brace yourself." Joyce called.
He yanked the door open. "Buffy?" he called into the darkness. He stepped though, and let the door go. It slammed shut making him jump.
His eyes strained in the darkness. His ears were alert.
He lifted up face and sniffed the air. The air was thick with the scent of blood. It was blood he would recognise anywhere. Buffy's.
He growled deep in his stomach.
Lights suddenly flicked on, blinding him for an minute. His eyes finally adjusted to the harsh light.
Buffy was leaning against the far wall, her arms chained above her head. She was dressed in a white dress that was stained with blood some dried, most not.
Her head was bowed forward and her blonde hair hid her face.
Her skirt her ridden up to her knees and whip marks decorated her lower legs. Her arms had what looked like burn marks all over them.
Angel rushed over to her and fell to his knees by her side.
"Buffy," he cried, "Buffy, love can you hear me?"
He swept her hair from across her face. A huge bruise covered the right side of her face, including her eyes. Although around her eye it went a particularly nasty mixture of blue, gray and purple.
A deep cut ran down the left side of her cheek, from her eyebrow to her chin. He gently touched her face and she winced at his touch and tried to pull away, not succeeding in getting very far because of the restriction of her chains.
"Buffy, it's Angel." He whispered. She was trembling, he realised.
He stood up and took hold of her chains, using all his strength he pulled.
The metal cuffs around her wrists flashed blue, giving her an electric shock. She barley had the strength to cry out.
"Magic." He groaned, almost bursting into tears.
Buffy opened one bloodshot eye. "Angel?" she whispered not really believing what she saw.
"I'm here. It's ok, I'm here." he said wrapping his arms gently around her beaten body.
She tried to take a deep breath in, but she whimpered.
Angel ran his fingers gently down her side and realised a few of her ribs were broken.
"The Key." she rasped, her voice strained.
"Where love?" he prodded.
She shrugged before all her strength seemed to drain out of her and she fell forward, her chains the only thing stopping her from hitting the floor. He gently lent her back against the wall, in a more comfortable position, before slowly standing up.
Someone was going to die for this.
Thanks to everyone for the feedback!! Please keep it coming. It gives me a happy!
Angel never thought he had seen anything so beautiful, with the exception of Buffy of course. It was like thousands of brightly coloured stars strung together, all surrounding him. They sparkled randomly.
He was floating. It was like he was on drugs, on a high.
*Is this what heaven is like?* he wondered.
There was a loud thud before pain ripped through him, like every nerve was on fire.
The pretty lights went out, he was left in complete darkness. The pain subsided.
*Or not*
His senses adjusted and he realised he was in a small room, like a cell. There were chains on the wall, hanging limply unused. He grabbed one of them and pulled himself up.
"Buffy!" he yelled. It seemed to bounce off the walls around him. He growled in frustration.
Suddenly a door appeared in front of him. It was a few inches bigger than him, and had a small window with three bars blocking it.
Where the gaps were, bright light shone through making it impossible to see what was behind it.
Angel took an unneeded breath and opened it.
He found a long corridor that had about three doors either side and ended in one final large door.
He headed straight for the final door, ignoring all the rest. Angel put his hand on the doorknob and twisted it, but found it locked.
He took and step backwards before giving it a hard kick. It splintered, another sharp kick and it flung open.
A large room was behind it. It was more like the size of a ball-room. A small girl sat directly in the middle.
She had light brown hair and looked about seven to eight years old. She had her knees pulled up to her chin and was rocking herself gently back and forth.
Angel stepped through the door way and cleared his throat.
The little girl looked up.
"Angel," she said softly, "I've been waiting for you."
"Is Buffy here?" he asked her.
"Yes and no." she replied.
"I don't have time for games. Where is she?" he snapped.
The girl stood and smiled. "No need to get snippy with me, Mr Angel."
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I'm Celia."
Angel stopped in surprise. "I thought you died." he blurted out, before realising what he had said.
She laughed, musical almost non-human laugh. "That's correct Mr Angel, but aren't you dead?"
"Yeah, but I mean.... Are you a vampire? No, you're not a vampire." He babbled.
"I'm not a vampire, I'm a ghost."
"Right." The norm' then, "So have you seen Buffy?" he said impatiently.
"You have to answer a question first."
He glanced around uneasily, "Then I can take her home?"
"Answer the question first. What's her favourite colour?" Celia asked.
"This is my question? It's a bit lame as far as questions go." Angel complained.
Celia just glared at him. She had the same green eyes as Buffy.
"Her favourite colour is blue." He sighed.
"Wrong." Celia snapped.
"Yes it is, I remember her clearly telling me her favourite colour was blue." Angel exclaimed.
Celia nodded. "Death was her gift."
"Ok, this doesn't make sense. What the hell is going on? Where is she?"
Celia stood up, walked over to him and took his hand.
"Tell her it wasn't her fault." she told him.
"What wasn't her fault?" he asked.
"My death," She said simply, "Close your eyes."
"That doesn't usually go so well." He mumbled, but did as he was told.
There was a bang and he felt Celia's hand leave his.
"Hello." A soft, familiar voice said.
Angel opened his eyes. "Hello Mrs Summers." He greeted.
"So you're looking for my daughter?" she asked.
"Yeah, do I have to answer another question where the answer doesn't actually make sense?" Angel asked.
She laughed, "No."
Angel sighed in relief. "Is Buffy here?"
"She's through there." Joyce said pointing to a door.
Angel hurried to the door.
"Brace yourself." Joyce called.
He yanked the door open. "Buffy?" he called into the darkness. He stepped though, and let the door go. It slammed shut making him jump.
His eyes strained in the darkness. His ears were alert.
He lifted up face and sniffed the air. The air was thick with the scent of blood. It was blood he would recognise anywhere. Buffy's.
He growled deep in his stomach.
Lights suddenly flicked on, blinding him for an minute. His eyes finally adjusted to the harsh light.
Buffy was leaning against the far wall, her arms chained above her head. She was dressed in a white dress that was stained with blood some dried, most not.
Her head was bowed forward and her blonde hair hid her face.
Her skirt her ridden up to her knees and whip marks decorated her lower legs. Her arms had what looked like burn marks all over them.
Angel rushed over to her and fell to his knees by her side.
"Buffy," he cried, "Buffy, love can you hear me?"
He swept her hair from across her face. A huge bruise covered the right side of her face, including her eyes. Although around her eye it went a particularly nasty mixture of blue, gray and purple.
A deep cut ran down the left side of her cheek, from her eyebrow to her chin. He gently touched her face and she winced at his touch and tried to pull away, not succeeding in getting very far because of the restriction of her chains.
"Buffy, it's Angel." He whispered. She was trembling, he realised.
He stood up and took hold of her chains, using all his strength he pulled.
The metal cuffs around her wrists flashed blue, giving her an electric shock. She barley had the strength to cry out.
"Magic." He groaned, almost bursting into tears.
Buffy opened one bloodshot eye. "Angel?" she whispered not really believing what she saw.
"I'm here. It's ok, I'm here." he said wrapping his arms gently around her beaten body.
She tried to take a deep breath in, but she whimpered.
Angel ran his fingers gently down her side and realised a few of her ribs were broken.
"The Key." she rasped, her voice strained.
"Where love?" he prodded.
She shrugged before all her strength seemed to drain out of her and she fell forward, her chains the only thing stopping her from hitting the floor. He gently lent her back against the wall, in a more comfortable position, before slowly standing up.
Someone was going to die for this.