PART TWO
Willow took a deep breath as she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. The tears had stopped flowing an hour ago, and she had finally managed to regain control of her motor functions twenty minutes later, but she still couldn't bring herself to make the effort to get up off the floor. Instead she had just laid there, her mind blissfully numb, as she struggled to overcome her catatonia.
Looking around the room, Willow noted once again how quiet and empty it all seemed. Needing to escape that quiet, if even for a few minutes, Willow decided to try and find Buffy, to talk to her some more. She needed to talk. Willow got onto her hands and knees and pushed herself off the floor, wobbling slightly as she stood. After taking another few moments to calm her nerves down, Willow left her room and headed downstairs to see if Buffy was there.
She found the Slayer in the kitchen, seated at the counter and eating a sandwich. Willow noticed Buffy tense ever so slightly as she appeared in the doorway, and her heart constricted. Her best friend didn't even trust her anymore.
"Hey," Willow greeted.
"Hey," Buffy gave her a tight smile.
Willow could feel the tension in the air, like a palpable entity, and she struggled for something, anything to say. "You're, uh, you're probably wondering who called...over an hour ago."
Buffy lifted an eyebrow and responded, "Actually, I was out. Walking Dawn to school. She was still a bit wigged about..."
"Last night," Willow lowered her head in shame.
"Yeah," Buffy nodded slightly. "So, who called?"
"Huh?" Willow looked up and caught Buffy's expectant gaze. "Oh, um, it was a wrong number."
"Oh." After a few moments of tense silence, Buffy finally spoke, "You, uh, you want something to eat?"
"That would be good," Willow nodded and walked hesitantly towards the counter, not quite sure if she was welcome.
"You can make yourself a sandwich," Buffy offered, "or there's probably other stuff in the fridge."
"A sandwich sounds good."
"And you can sit down, you know. I promise to only bite the sandwich."
Willow felt a bit of the tension seep out of the room at Buffy's words, and she was grateful. "Right, I know... I just..." Willow found herself grasping for words. "How is Dawn?"
"Sit," Buffy commanded. Willow plopped herself down on the stool across from Buffy and waited, knowing that look in Buffy's eyes. She had something to say.
"Look, Will," Buffy began, catching on her name slightly. "You know that there are a lot of things that still need to be worked out."
"Yeah, I know." After a slight pause, Willow continued, "Buffy, I'm so sorry--"
"--I've heard it already," Buffy cut her off, "And you don't need to keep apologizing. At least to me; Dawn, maybe. At least until she tells you to shut up, if she'll even listen to anything you have to say."
"Buffy..."
"I'm just trying to explain how she feels. Willow, we all make mistakes. We all get caught up in things that we can't handle, get in over our heads, do things we shouldn't do. I can understand that. But you have to understand that it's gonna take some time for Dawn to feel comfortable around you again, and even more time for her to feel safe around you, and even then, she still won't trust you."
"And here I thought you were leading up to the 'everything's gonna be okay' speech," Willow joked nervously.
"It's not going to be okay," Buffy shook her head, those dead eyes staring into her own frightened ones. Dead...
"I know," Willow looked away.
"At least not right away," Buffy continued softly. "She does still love you, you know. She's just hurt, frightened."
"Of me."
"Can you blame her?"
Willow shook her head. "I can't. But Buffy, you have to believe that I will try--am trying--my hardest to make up for this. I, I've learned my lesson; I understand now what Tara was trying to protect me from, and I promise you that I am putting magick behind me."
"Good," Buffy smiled. Willow caught a hint of warmth behind the smile and returned one of her own, filled with as much love, gratefulness, and repentance as she could muster. She just hoped it was enough.
***
Angel stood across the street from the familiar house, gazing at the dim lights that were shining through various windows. He had left L.A. right after sunset and had driven immediately to the Summers' residence upon arriving in Sunnydale; well, technically, he had driven to about two blocks down and had walked the rest of the way.
He hadn't originally intended to come back; a part of him felt as if he no longer had a place in this town, and the fewer visits the better. But, after his conversation with Willow and the second vision that Cordelia had received, he decided he had to return, he had to figure out what was so important that the Powers would send Cordelia two consecutive visions.
He and the others had been discussing what could possibly be wrong with Willow, what they could do to help, when Cordelia had gotten her second vision: that of Willow floating in place, here eyes completely void of color, a black aura surrounding her frame. Cordelia had said that the sense of urgency was even greater this time, but apart from that, no new information was given. But now Angel was certain that magick played an integral part of whatever it was that the Powers were trying to tell him about Willow. He just hoped that Willow herself would be able to tell him the rest.
Angel pondered whether or not he should just wait where he was to gather a better idea of who was in the house, or if he should just go and knock on the door and hope that Willow answered. He really didn't feel like explaining his presence to anyone else, especially Buffy. After their earlier meeting, he didn't think he was ready to face her again.
Fortunately, Angel didn't have to make a decision. At that moment, he saw the redhead leave the house, and he followed her for a while as she walked down the street. She didn't seem to have a particular destination in mind, or maybe she did and was simply hesitant about arriving there.
Willow didn't notice the shadow following her as she walked. Instead, her mind was busy rehearsing what she would say to Tara. She knew that going to visit Tara was the right thing to do; she had to hear about what happened last night, and she had to hear it from Willow. But it didn't make the inevitable confrontation any less frightening. How would Tara react? What would she say? Would she end up pitying her? Hating her? The last thought froze Willow in her tracks, and for a moment she considered turning back.
Angel watched as Willow suddenly stopped in the middle of her stride and wondered what she could possibly be thinking. Deciding it was time to make his presence known, Angel called out to her, "Willow?"
Willow whirled around, frantic eyes searching out the source of the voice. Angel stepped out of the shadows and into her line of sight. "It's just me," he reassured her.
"Angel," Willow visibly relaxed only for a moment before tensing up again. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you," he moved towards her, "after our conversation... I couldn't just leave it like that."
Willow forced a laugh, "It was nothing, really. I just...haven't been feeling well. You shouldn't have come here. If you're looking for help with that spell, I'm sure you can find some other--"
"There is no spell, Willow," Angel shook his head. As he gazed at her, he noticed how pale she was, how tired. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had just been crying recently, and the sparkle that he remembered so well was missing.
"What?" Willow demanded.
"I only said that to try and get you to come to L.A; I didn't want to mention this earlier, because I didn't want to scare you, but, if telling you is the only way to find out what's going on here, then--"
"Angel, what are you talking about?" Willow felt herself getting slightly annoyed. The last thing she needed right now was Angel playing cryptic games with her.
"Cordelia had a vision," Angel sighed, trying his best to explain something he himself didn't understand, "about you."
Willow lifted a curious eyebrow. If Cordelia's vision was supposed to save her from something, it was already too late. "And?"
"And, it wasn't very informative," Angel supplied. "All she saw was you."
"Without any gruesome demons trying to eat me?"
"No. No demons. No danger to save you from. Just you."
"Maybe I'm the danger," Willow whispered softly.
Angel heard her words and they chilled him. "What is going on here, Willow? I want to help you, I'm here to help you, but I can't do that if you don't talk to me."
Willow looked up at him with such tortured eyes that Angel had to consciously restrain himself from gathering her in his arms and offering soft words of comfort.
Willow wondered why Cordelia would be getting a vision about her. Was she so far gone that she needed Angel's help? Could he help her? Or was she a monster that Angel was supposed to destroy? And why did the Powers even care? Willow sighed audibly as she looked at Angel's silently pleading face. In the last twenty-four hours, she had seen mainly distrust, loathing, pity, and fright on the faces of the people she loved. Angel's face held none of those.
"Will you promise not to hate me?" Willow finally spoke.
"I could never hate you," Angel told her, placing his arm across her shoulders and drawing her into an awkward hug.
"Stick around a few minutes, you might change your mind." Her voice was laced with such self-loathing that Angel was struck with an odd sense of deja vu.
"What's happened?" he asked again.
And so Willow proceeded to tell him the entire story.
***
"Alright, this better be good," Lilah fumed as she stormed into the office of Wolfram & Hart's ancient texts translator. "I just got called out of a very important meeting because you supposedly have some extremely urgent news to tell me."
The man nodded emphatically, "Yes, yes; very urgent."
"Well?"
"Right," the man continued to nod, "you remember those scrolls you, ahem, had, uh, photocopied about a year-and-a-half ago? The Prophecies of Aberjian?"
"Yes, those were the scrolls that Angel stole from us," Lilah stated, obviously annoyed, "so you better be glad that I photocopied them, otherwise you wouldn't have them to study right now, would you?"
"No, of course not, you're right," the man apologized hastily.
"Of course. Now what's so damn important?"
"Well, you see, I think I've finally made a breakthrough with one of the major passages."
"And?"
"Now, this passage has been extremely difficult to translate, mainly because it makes use of various metaphors that were common only to the--"
"Get to the point," Lilah cut him off harshly.
"Right. Well, we've already established that the scrolls make multiple references to a vampire with a soul, one who will play a pivotal role in the upcoming battles--"
"Angel. We know that already. What else?"
"You see, that's just it. *One* who will play a pivotal role. As in, there is another. Now, I've cross-referenced the phrasing and double-checked it at least half-a-dozen times, and there is no mistake. This particular sentence is explicitly plural--"
"You mean to tell me that some other caped-crusader wanna-be is coming into the picture?" Lilah snarled angrily.
"Well, yes and no," the man shrank back. "You see, the scrolls make references to light coming from darkness and darkness coming from light, and it seems to be applying this to the, well, uh, warriors. Now, if this is indeed the case, then one would naturally assume that the former is the vampire with a soul."
"And the latter?"
The man shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "It's all rather vague. These prophecies make references to another set of scrolls that tell more about this second warrior, but from what's written here, there is reason to hope that he may be what we're looking for."
"Meaning?" Lilah asked, becoming more intrigued.
"You see, the writers of these scrolls held that the universe is inherently dualistic, that there exists an ever-present struggle between Good and Evil."
"So what else is new?"
"Well, they also believed that there must exist a balance in all things. Now, we've tried unsuccessfully to change Angel's...loyalties, but he's always--"
"I know this story. What are you getting at?"
"This: if Angel is coming down on one side of the scale, in order to maintain this balance, this second warrior must come down on the other. On our side."
"Wait a minute," Lilah spoke, running the many implications of this new revelation through her mind, "You're saying that so long as Angel is running around bringing about light and hope, this second warrior will be the source of darkness and destruction?"
"Precisely," the man concluded.
"Oh, this is too good," Lilah chuckled. "And it's exactly the type of news that the senior partners have been waiting for."
END PART TWO
Willow took a deep breath as she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. The tears had stopped flowing an hour ago, and she had finally managed to regain control of her motor functions twenty minutes later, but she still couldn't bring herself to make the effort to get up off the floor. Instead she had just laid there, her mind blissfully numb, as she struggled to overcome her catatonia.
Looking around the room, Willow noted once again how quiet and empty it all seemed. Needing to escape that quiet, if even for a few minutes, Willow decided to try and find Buffy, to talk to her some more. She needed to talk. Willow got onto her hands and knees and pushed herself off the floor, wobbling slightly as she stood. After taking another few moments to calm her nerves down, Willow left her room and headed downstairs to see if Buffy was there.
She found the Slayer in the kitchen, seated at the counter and eating a sandwich. Willow noticed Buffy tense ever so slightly as she appeared in the doorway, and her heart constricted. Her best friend didn't even trust her anymore.
"Hey," Willow greeted.
"Hey," Buffy gave her a tight smile.
Willow could feel the tension in the air, like a palpable entity, and she struggled for something, anything to say. "You're, uh, you're probably wondering who called...over an hour ago."
Buffy lifted an eyebrow and responded, "Actually, I was out. Walking Dawn to school. She was still a bit wigged about..."
"Last night," Willow lowered her head in shame.
"Yeah," Buffy nodded slightly. "So, who called?"
"Huh?" Willow looked up and caught Buffy's expectant gaze. "Oh, um, it was a wrong number."
"Oh." After a few moments of tense silence, Buffy finally spoke, "You, uh, you want something to eat?"
"That would be good," Willow nodded and walked hesitantly towards the counter, not quite sure if she was welcome.
"You can make yourself a sandwich," Buffy offered, "or there's probably other stuff in the fridge."
"A sandwich sounds good."
"And you can sit down, you know. I promise to only bite the sandwich."
Willow felt a bit of the tension seep out of the room at Buffy's words, and she was grateful. "Right, I know... I just..." Willow found herself grasping for words. "How is Dawn?"
"Sit," Buffy commanded. Willow plopped herself down on the stool across from Buffy and waited, knowing that look in Buffy's eyes. She had something to say.
"Look, Will," Buffy began, catching on her name slightly. "You know that there are a lot of things that still need to be worked out."
"Yeah, I know." After a slight pause, Willow continued, "Buffy, I'm so sorry--"
"--I've heard it already," Buffy cut her off, "And you don't need to keep apologizing. At least to me; Dawn, maybe. At least until she tells you to shut up, if she'll even listen to anything you have to say."
"Buffy..."
"I'm just trying to explain how she feels. Willow, we all make mistakes. We all get caught up in things that we can't handle, get in over our heads, do things we shouldn't do. I can understand that. But you have to understand that it's gonna take some time for Dawn to feel comfortable around you again, and even more time for her to feel safe around you, and even then, she still won't trust you."
"And here I thought you were leading up to the 'everything's gonna be okay' speech," Willow joked nervously.
"It's not going to be okay," Buffy shook her head, those dead eyes staring into her own frightened ones. Dead...
"I know," Willow looked away.
"At least not right away," Buffy continued softly. "She does still love you, you know. She's just hurt, frightened."
"Of me."
"Can you blame her?"
Willow shook her head. "I can't. But Buffy, you have to believe that I will try--am trying--my hardest to make up for this. I, I've learned my lesson; I understand now what Tara was trying to protect me from, and I promise you that I am putting magick behind me."
"Good," Buffy smiled. Willow caught a hint of warmth behind the smile and returned one of her own, filled with as much love, gratefulness, and repentance as she could muster. She just hoped it was enough.
***
Angel stood across the street from the familiar house, gazing at the dim lights that were shining through various windows. He had left L.A. right after sunset and had driven immediately to the Summers' residence upon arriving in Sunnydale; well, technically, he had driven to about two blocks down and had walked the rest of the way.
He hadn't originally intended to come back; a part of him felt as if he no longer had a place in this town, and the fewer visits the better. But, after his conversation with Willow and the second vision that Cordelia had received, he decided he had to return, he had to figure out what was so important that the Powers would send Cordelia two consecutive visions.
He and the others had been discussing what could possibly be wrong with Willow, what they could do to help, when Cordelia had gotten her second vision: that of Willow floating in place, here eyes completely void of color, a black aura surrounding her frame. Cordelia had said that the sense of urgency was even greater this time, but apart from that, no new information was given. But now Angel was certain that magick played an integral part of whatever it was that the Powers were trying to tell him about Willow. He just hoped that Willow herself would be able to tell him the rest.
Angel pondered whether or not he should just wait where he was to gather a better idea of who was in the house, or if he should just go and knock on the door and hope that Willow answered. He really didn't feel like explaining his presence to anyone else, especially Buffy. After their earlier meeting, he didn't think he was ready to face her again.
Fortunately, Angel didn't have to make a decision. At that moment, he saw the redhead leave the house, and he followed her for a while as she walked down the street. She didn't seem to have a particular destination in mind, or maybe she did and was simply hesitant about arriving there.
Willow didn't notice the shadow following her as she walked. Instead, her mind was busy rehearsing what she would say to Tara. She knew that going to visit Tara was the right thing to do; she had to hear about what happened last night, and she had to hear it from Willow. But it didn't make the inevitable confrontation any less frightening. How would Tara react? What would she say? Would she end up pitying her? Hating her? The last thought froze Willow in her tracks, and for a moment she considered turning back.
Angel watched as Willow suddenly stopped in the middle of her stride and wondered what she could possibly be thinking. Deciding it was time to make his presence known, Angel called out to her, "Willow?"
Willow whirled around, frantic eyes searching out the source of the voice. Angel stepped out of the shadows and into her line of sight. "It's just me," he reassured her.
"Angel," Willow visibly relaxed only for a moment before tensing up again. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you," he moved towards her, "after our conversation... I couldn't just leave it like that."
Willow forced a laugh, "It was nothing, really. I just...haven't been feeling well. You shouldn't have come here. If you're looking for help with that spell, I'm sure you can find some other--"
"There is no spell, Willow," Angel shook his head. As he gazed at her, he noticed how pale she was, how tired. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had just been crying recently, and the sparkle that he remembered so well was missing.
"What?" Willow demanded.
"I only said that to try and get you to come to L.A; I didn't want to mention this earlier, because I didn't want to scare you, but, if telling you is the only way to find out what's going on here, then--"
"Angel, what are you talking about?" Willow felt herself getting slightly annoyed. The last thing she needed right now was Angel playing cryptic games with her.
"Cordelia had a vision," Angel sighed, trying his best to explain something he himself didn't understand, "about you."
Willow lifted a curious eyebrow. If Cordelia's vision was supposed to save her from something, it was already too late. "And?"
"And, it wasn't very informative," Angel supplied. "All she saw was you."
"Without any gruesome demons trying to eat me?"
"No. No demons. No danger to save you from. Just you."
"Maybe I'm the danger," Willow whispered softly.
Angel heard her words and they chilled him. "What is going on here, Willow? I want to help you, I'm here to help you, but I can't do that if you don't talk to me."
Willow looked up at him with such tortured eyes that Angel had to consciously restrain himself from gathering her in his arms and offering soft words of comfort.
Willow wondered why Cordelia would be getting a vision about her. Was she so far gone that she needed Angel's help? Could he help her? Or was she a monster that Angel was supposed to destroy? And why did the Powers even care? Willow sighed audibly as she looked at Angel's silently pleading face. In the last twenty-four hours, she had seen mainly distrust, loathing, pity, and fright on the faces of the people she loved. Angel's face held none of those.
"Will you promise not to hate me?" Willow finally spoke.
"I could never hate you," Angel told her, placing his arm across her shoulders and drawing her into an awkward hug.
"Stick around a few minutes, you might change your mind." Her voice was laced with such self-loathing that Angel was struck with an odd sense of deja vu.
"What's happened?" he asked again.
And so Willow proceeded to tell him the entire story.
***
"Alright, this better be good," Lilah fumed as she stormed into the office of Wolfram & Hart's ancient texts translator. "I just got called out of a very important meeting because you supposedly have some extremely urgent news to tell me."
The man nodded emphatically, "Yes, yes; very urgent."
"Well?"
"Right," the man continued to nod, "you remember those scrolls you, ahem, had, uh, photocopied about a year-and-a-half ago? The Prophecies of Aberjian?"
"Yes, those were the scrolls that Angel stole from us," Lilah stated, obviously annoyed, "so you better be glad that I photocopied them, otherwise you wouldn't have them to study right now, would you?"
"No, of course not, you're right," the man apologized hastily.
"Of course. Now what's so damn important?"
"Well, you see, I think I've finally made a breakthrough with one of the major passages."
"And?"
"Now, this passage has been extremely difficult to translate, mainly because it makes use of various metaphors that were common only to the--"
"Get to the point," Lilah cut him off harshly.
"Right. Well, we've already established that the scrolls make multiple references to a vampire with a soul, one who will play a pivotal role in the upcoming battles--"
"Angel. We know that already. What else?"
"You see, that's just it. *One* who will play a pivotal role. As in, there is another. Now, I've cross-referenced the phrasing and double-checked it at least half-a-dozen times, and there is no mistake. This particular sentence is explicitly plural--"
"You mean to tell me that some other caped-crusader wanna-be is coming into the picture?" Lilah snarled angrily.
"Well, yes and no," the man shrank back. "You see, the scrolls make references to light coming from darkness and darkness coming from light, and it seems to be applying this to the, well, uh, warriors. Now, if this is indeed the case, then one would naturally assume that the former is the vampire with a soul."
"And the latter?"
The man shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "It's all rather vague. These prophecies make references to another set of scrolls that tell more about this second warrior, but from what's written here, there is reason to hope that he may be what we're looking for."
"Meaning?" Lilah asked, becoming more intrigued.
"You see, the writers of these scrolls held that the universe is inherently dualistic, that there exists an ever-present struggle between Good and Evil."
"So what else is new?"
"Well, they also believed that there must exist a balance in all things. Now, we've tried unsuccessfully to change Angel's...loyalties, but he's always--"
"I know this story. What are you getting at?"
"This: if Angel is coming down on one side of the scale, in order to maintain this balance, this second warrior must come down on the other. On our side."
"Wait a minute," Lilah spoke, running the many implications of this new revelation through her mind, "You're saying that so long as Angel is running around bringing about light and hope, this second warrior will be the source of darkness and destruction?"
"Precisely," the man concluded.
"Oh, this is too good," Lilah chuckled. "And it's exactly the type of news that the senior partners have been waiting for."
END PART TWO