Author's Note: I know it seems like I'm taking the whole Acathla business pretty slow and that you all just want to see Angel dead already (my lips are sealed about such matters), but I feel that this chapter is especially important regarding Giles and his relationship with Spike. So please! Read on! Only a few more chapters till the big finish!
Chapter 24: Illusions of Love
He sat, bruised, beaten and cut, still silent. His shirt hung open, displaying a number of bright red welts streaked across his chest, but still he wouldn't speak. It had been hours----hours of threats, hours of fear, hours of pain----but never hours of disclosure. He refused to open his mouth and tell the secret. Even after Angelus had taken his hand and carefully broke each finger, Giles never uttered a word.
"Godammit man!" Angelus exploded with frustration as he leaned over a weary Giles menacingly. "Don't you see how misguided this is?! Acathla is standing right there. Nothing you will or won't say will change that. It's only a matter of time till I find out how to open the portal . . . and if you won't tell me . . ." Angel sneered and flicked out a small dagger from his sleeve. " . . . I'll just kill you and find someone who will."
Giles gasped as the cold point of the dagger came in contact with his upper thigh, breaking through the cloth. "I . . . won't," he haggardly sighed before leveling his hateful gaze at Angelus. "And you'll never open it. Buffy will come and stake your sorry ass before it comes to that."
Angelus emitted a low chuckle. "Still think your little pink power ranger will come and save the day, do you? Who's the sorry one?"
"I'd venture to say the vampire who can't even break the mild-mannered high school librarian he went all out of his way to kidnap. And you call yourself the scourge of Europe."
A golden flash of anger ignited in Angel's eyes and he grabbed Giles by his hair. "I do and I am," he snarled. "Don't ever forget that." Jutting the dagger up against Giles' jugular, Angel looked as if he was about to loose his cool before Drusilla came sweeping in with a grand smile.
"There, there Daddy, that's not the way to do it," Dru purred, putting a mollifying arm on Angel's shoulder. "One cannot make mincemeat pie out of our poor, poor watcher." She leaned down and curled a cold hand around Giles' cheek. Giles was too dazed to notice the touch of death upon his face.
Angel eyed Dru suspiciously. "What are you playing at, Dru?"
Dru giggled. "Well we've dissected, trisected, vivisected 'im. Miss Edith thinks we should employ . . . more friendlier tactics." She continued caressing Giles' brow soothingly.
Angel began to smile with understanding. His childe constantly displayed useful talents every time he turned around. Siring her was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Although opening Acathla would soon edge that out of first place. "Can you get it, baby?" he murmured into her ear as his hands settled round her waist.
Dru nodded and gave a trilling laugh. "I know what he wants." Crouching down in front of him, Dru cupped Giles' face in her hands and pierced through his eyes.
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He wasn't hurting anymore. There was no more pain. The cuts and bruises and noise were gone. He felt like he was floating in a peaceful pool of white. Yet a nagging feeling remained. It was like he had forgotten to take the teakettle off the stove or the keys out of the door. Except this was bigger. It was hollow and black and terrifying. He had to remember. He had to stop it.
"Shhhhh, shhhh." A voice soothed him liltingly, it's musical pitch distinctly feminine and young and familiar. She cooed to him as if she sensed his worry, trying her best to calm him. "Shhhh. Everything will be alright, Rupert. It'll be fine."
Giles tried to clear the pale shrouded fog out of his eyes to reach her. And then he saw her. An angelic vision of gold and white, swirling right in front of him. She tilted her face upward to his intently. Her eyes were the blues of the stormy Mediterranean and her hair was a glittering cornfield of blonde. She looked so much like the other. The other . . . his boy. "It's . . . it's not you . . ." he panted. "It . . . it can't be . . ."
"It is," she affirmed. "I know it's been long."
"No . . . no. You're . . . but you're . . . gone . . . Emma?"
She smiled and stroked him affectionately. "Hello dear."
"You're dead." His words were dulled and heavy compared to the lightness around them.
She nodded, still smiling. "You're right. I am. I have been for a long time. But I'm still here. With you."
"It's a trick . . ."
She shook her head. "No. I'm here to help you."
"But why now? Where have you been all this time?"
"I've always been with you. With you and William. I watch over the two of you all the time."
He crumbled and shook his head. "So you've seen . . . you've seen everything. The mess I've made of his life. The mess I've made of mine."
"You've tried your best."
His voice swelled and broke. "I haven't. I've ruined him. He hates me, despises me. And I don't blame him. I don't know what to do . . ." He looked up at her earnestly. "I'm so sorry, Emma."
"Oh Rupert-----"
"No please . . . listen. I never should have left England. I was young and stupid and selfish and I abandoned you. I left you all along to shoulder the burden by yourself. And what's worse, as I grew older, I was still stupid and selfish. Not once did I contact you besides the checks I sent. I didn't even go to your funeral. I've done nothing but cause pain for you and our son."
She grew quiet and stared away from him. "The past . . ." she sighed.
"No it's the present! He's already hard and broken and angry and in pain because of me! I've been the worst father-----"
She looked up at him carefully. "Do you want to change it?"
He stilled and stared at her with the question. "Emma . . ."
"You still have time, Rupert. You can turn him around. You can show him how much you love him . . . how much you've always loved him."
He searched her face urgently. "How?"
"Tell me. Tell me what he wants to know."
He began to shake his head slowly, conflicted. "I can't . . ." he breathed.
"I won't tell him. I won't ever tell him. I'm here to save you, Rupert. You and Buffy and the rest. And our son. Especially our son."
He didn't know how to trust her. But he wanted to, badly. "Why do I have to tell you?"
"Because I'll destroy Acathla. Because it's the key to defeating Angelus. Because I'll make sure William never has to hurt again. Because he'll love you forever if you give me the secret."
He hesitated.
"Rupert, imagine. You and William. And there wouldn't be anger in his face, only love. And he wouldn't be resentful or in pain . . . he'd only be your son." She leaned forward gently, supplicating him with her beautiful eyes. "You and William and Jenny . . . you could be the family we never got to be . . ."
He couldn't stand it. He wanted it so much, he was shaking. "Promise?" he finally asked.
She relaxed and grinned dazzlingly. She kissed him softly and chastely on the lips. "Promise."
He took a deep breath. "You must get Angel away from Acathla."
She was still absently stroking his cheek. "Why? Is he the key?"
Rigidly, he nodded and she stared back into his eyes. "H-his blood . . . he m-mustn't . . ."
She stopped and gave him a wide smile that looked faintly like a sneer. "Whoever opens the portal must use his own blood . . ."
"Yes . . . but Emma . . . how will you stop this?" He deseparately needed to know. "How will you stop his pain and mine? How will it get better?"
Her lips feel into a smirk and for a moment, she looked exactly like her son. "By ending everyone's pain. By ending everything." Her face contorted into a vile image of satisfied hatred then disappeared. And in that moment, Giles knew he was lost.
"No . . ." he murmured frantically before realizing that there was no white cloud around him and his hands were still chained to a rusty chair. "Oh god, no . . ."
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"My blood . . ." Angel repeated, staring down at his milky white wrists. "Of course . . . of course I'm the key." Turning to Dru, he grabbed her joyfully and spun her around. "Oh god, Princess, we've got it made now! We know how to open the portal! Now no one can stop us!"
"Notice whenever someone says that, someone else invariably comes along to mess up all his wacky plans," Buffy quipped, prompting Angel and Dru to turn around. She was standing in the door next to Spike with a sword in her hand. Before Angel could give her a deadly scowl, she winked and smirked. "Hey, lover."