Part 16: Whatever Happened?
#
It was definitely a night of surprises for Rupert Giles, that much was already clear. But hours ago he had received news from the Council, learning that one of the major texts regarding the Huntsman had now successfully been decoded. Since time was of essence the Watchers had faxed it to him. It was actually the first time Giles ever used the fax machine Xander, Willow, and Buffy had bought him for his birthday last year. They had labeled it as his first step into the 20th century before it was too late.
He had not yet had a chance to take a look at it, though, when Buffy suddenly arrived at his home. Her clothing in shambles, her small body shaking with sobs, he barely managed to get a coherent sentence out of her. She was clearly in shock. Something had happened to her, something terrible, and the only thing he could clearly understand between repeated utterances of 'I'm sorry' and 'I didn't mean to' was a name.
Jackson King.
Giles called Willow, hoping that Buffy's best friend might be able to calm her down. He had managed to maneuver Buffy into his bed, tucking her in, but she was still in shock, it seemed. The redhead arrived barely five minutes later, concern evident in her every gesture and expression. Giles merely motioned upstairs and she vanished into the bedroom, immediately taking in the devastated state of her friend.
"Buffy, my god," she sat down on the bed, softly touching the Slayer's shivering form. "What happened?"
"I didn't mean to," Buffy whispered under her breath. "I didn't mean to."
"Didn't mean to what?" Willow asked, but Buffy barely seemed to register her presence.
The redhead cast a side glance at the torn remains of Buffy's clothing which Giles had draped across a chair nearby. It looked like a wild animal had torn them apart. What she could see of Buffy's skin was covered with cuts and bruises that were already a deep purple. Her friend's accelerated healing would get rid of them by tomorrow, but now they stood out against a skin that was almost as white as the sheets.
She had seen Buffy with worse injuries, though, had seen her beaten half to death. Even in those cases, though, her friend had never been in a state like this. Something more than a fight gone bad must have happened to her.
"Buffy, please," Willow tried again. "Tell me what happened!"
Suddenly Buffy's head snapped around, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears. An air of desperation was on her face.
"He mustn't know," Buffy told Willow. "You mustn't tell him, Will! I only just got him back, I don't want to lose him! I didn't mean to do this, but ... he would understand, wouldn't he? But what if he doesn't? I can't lose him again, Will! I just can't!"
"Lose him? Who, Buffy?"
About ten minutes later Willow left the bedroom, her friend having fallen into an exhausted slumber for now. Giles looked up at her expectantly.
"What did she say?"
"I'm not sure," the redhead confessed, dropping onto the couch. "She kept repeating that she did not mean to do 'it', whatever 'it' might be. Oh, and that 'he' should not find out, yet at the same time how could she not tell 'him'!"
"Who? Jackson King?" That did not make any sense at all, he thought.
"Angel," Willow said after a pause. "She said something about only just having gotten him back and that this might ruin things again."
Giles sighed, remembering his own thoughts from just a little while ago. How Buffy had behaved like she was hiding something and how it had reminded him of the time when she had hidden Angel from them.
Why did this not come as a surprise?
"You ... you think they are back together?" Willow asked. "She didn't tell me anything about that, but ... well, ever since Thanksgiving she was a bit ... lighter. Happier."
"I think we can safely assume that she and Angel have found something of a middle ground, though I can't really imagine what it is. Nothing has changed about them that I know, so ..."
He interrupted himself, feeling how tired he was.
"I guess we have two choices now. Letting her sleep and hoping she will be more lucid in the morning or ..."
"...we could call Angel and ask him what's going on," Willow finished the sentence for him.
The Watcher and the witch briefly discussed their options. Leaving Buffy in the state she was in seemed like a bad idea, so they discarded it rather quickly. They considered calling Xander for help in getting Buffy to talk about things, but quickly decided against it. From what little they knew it seemed this was a rather delicate situation and, no matter the boy's loyalty towards his friends, called for more tact and sensitivity than Xander would ever possess. Especially when it came to the topic of Angel.
With no idea what else to do the Watcher, reluctantly, picked up the phone and called Angel in Los Angeles. He had barely begun describing the situation, though, when the other man interrupted him, saying he would be there as fast as he could. He hung up without further comments, leaving Giles and Willow every bit as clueless as before.
Barely ninety minutes after Giles' phone call Angel arrived at the apartment, having broken just about every speed limit his car was capable of breaking. He simply breezed by both Giles and Willow, barely a word of greeting on his lips, making a straight line for Buffy and slamming the bedroom door behind him.
It was probably a good thing that neither Willow nor Giles consciously registered the significance of Angel casting a reflection as he passed the mirror on the stairway. They had quite enough to keep their thoughts busy this night already.
#
Buffy was awake as he entered. She felt his presence, of course, she always did. He could see it in the way her body tensed, the way the tingling in his own belly seemed to change. She was turned away from him, though, lying on her side and staring at the window. Even when he sat down on the bed she did not turn to face him. He placed his hand on her arm and felt her shiver.
"Buffy?" he asked, softly caressing her where he touched. "What happened, beloved?"
For a moment he thought she would not speak to him. As he passed Willow the redhead had called after him, saying that she might not want to talk to him about what had happened. He could almost see her fighting an inner battle as he waited for her to say something.
"I'm so sorry, Angel," she finally whispered under her breath, so softly that he was not sure she had really said it.
"For what?" He gently laid down beside her, slowly pulling her body against his. For a moment she resisted half-heartedly, but finally relented. "What happened?"
"I ... I didn't mean to ... there was nothing I could do, Angel. I didn't want to, but ... I just couldn't stop it."
He made calming noises as he felt her trembling, her voice telling of the state of shock she was in. Something terrible must have happened to her and he could not imagine what it was, especially with the shame and self- loathing she positively radiated in all directions. What could possibly have reduced his strong Buffy to this shaking wreck?
"Tell me, beloved," he whispered into her ear. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it."
It took almost half an hour and repeated assurances of love on his part to finally get the story out of her. She told him what happened in the graveyard with the young man called Jackson King. Over and over she told him that she was sorry, that she had not meant to do it, something had forced her.
White hot anger filled Angel's veins, but none of it was directed at the girl shivering in his arms. Buffy had fought for their relationship more vigorously than anyone, including himself. The very thought that she would cheat on him now was simply ludicrous. No, something else must have happened to her. Something they needed answers about.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Buffy," he assured her, kissing the back of her neck. "We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise you."
He also made another promise to himself in that moment. Whoever this Jackson King was, however he had forced himself onto Buffy, Angel would make him pay for it. Superpowers or no superpowers.
#
Almost an hour after Angel had entered Giles' bedroom he emerged again. He had convinced Buffy to take a shower, wash the dirt and grime of her encounter with the Huntsman off her body. He had watched for a minute, seen the frantic way she scrubbed her skin. The thought that Buffy felt guilty for what had happened was almost more than he could bear.
Walking down into the apartment he saw Giles and Willow both flinch back from the look on his face. He forced himself not to show the seething anger that held his heart in its grip. Instead he filled the other two in on what he had learned, giving them a condensed version of this night's events that had found Buffy's agreement. It left out how far things had really gone.
Even without knowing the full details Willow was appalled, at a loss for words. Giles sat down in his chair, burying his face in his hands.
"I was afraid something like this would happen," the Watcher sighed.
"Did you know it would?" Angel asked, the anger showing on his face again. "Why didn't you warn ...?"
"I didn't know," the Watcher interrupted him. "Our information on the Huntsman was sketchy so far. Tonight, though, the Council sent me a newly decoded text. I did not have time to read through it before Buffy arrived, but ... well, you were upstairs quite a long time, so I did some reading."
"What does it say?"
All three of them turned around to see Buffy standing at the top of the stairs. The little blonde's hair was still wet, but she had dressed in some clean clothes from the small emergency stash she had here at Giles' apartment. There were dark rings under her eyes and her skin, what they could see of it, was red and raw from her scrubbing in the shower.
Angel saw that her hands were shaking.
"Buffy," Giles began softly. "Are you sure you want to ...?"
"I need to know, Giles," she told him in a surprisingly firm voice. "Something ... something happened to me tonight and I ... I need to know. I just need to."
The Watcher took a deep breath, then nodded and motioned for everyone to sit down. Angel and Buffy took the couch, the former quickly pulling her against him in a comforting gesture. For a moment she tensed, her entire body screaming of the shame she felt, but then she relaxed against him, drinking in his still unfamiliar warmth. Unlike the storm-like presence of Jackson King being with Angel felt soothing. Safe.
Willow and Giles both noticed their intimacy, but wisely refrained from commenting for now.
"Very well," Giles said, taking up the papers he had received tonight. "Here is what the Council has learned of the Huntsman so far:"
TO BE CONTINUED
#
It was definitely a night of surprises for Rupert Giles, that much was already clear. But hours ago he had received news from the Council, learning that one of the major texts regarding the Huntsman had now successfully been decoded. Since time was of essence the Watchers had faxed it to him. It was actually the first time Giles ever used the fax machine Xander, Willow, and Buffy had bought him for his birthday last year. They had labeled it as his first step into the 20th century before it was too late.
He had not yet had a chance to take a look at it, though, when Buffy suddenly arrived at his home. Her clothing in shambles, her small body shaking with sobs, he barely managed to get a coherent sentence out of her. She was clearly in shock. Something had happened to her, something terrible, and the only thing he could clearly understand between repeated utterances of 'I'm sorry' and 'I didn't mean to' was a name.
Jackson King.
Giles called Willow, hoping that Buffy's best friend might be able to calm her down. He had managed to maneuver Buffy into his bed, tucking her in, but she was still in shock, it seemed. The redhead arrived barely five minutes later, concern evident in her every gesture and expression. Giles merely motioned upstairs and she vanished into the bedroom, immediately taking in the devastated state of her friend.
"Buffy, my god," she sat down on the bed, softly touching the Slayer's shivering form. "What happened?"
"I didn't mean to," Buffy whispered under her breath. "I didn't mean to."
"Didn't mean to what?" Willow asked, but Buffy barely seemed to register her presence.
The redhead cast a side glance at the torn remains of Buffy's clothing which Giles had draped across a chair nearby. It looked like a wild animal had torn them apart. What she could see of Buffy's skin was covered with cuts and bruises that were already a deep purple. Her friend's accelerated healing would get rid of them by tomorrow, but now they stood out against a skin that was almost as white as the sheets.
She had seen Buffy with worse injuries, though, had seen her beaten half to death. Even in those cases, though, her friend had never been in a state like this. Something more than a fight gone bad must have happened to her.
"Buffy, please," Willow tried again. "Tell me what happened!"
Suddenly Buffy's head snapped around, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears. An air of desperation was on her face.
"He mustn't know," Buffy told Willow. "You mustn't tell him, Will! I only just got him back, I don't want to lose him! I didn't mean to do this, but ... he would understand, wouldn't he? But what if he doesn't? I can't lose him again, Will! I just can't!"
"Lose him? Who, Buffy?"
About ten minutes later Willow left the bedroom, her friend having fallen into an exhausted slumber for now. Giles looked up at her expectantly.
"What did she say?"
"I'm not sure," the redhead confessed, dropping onto the couch. "She kept repeating that she did not mean to do 'it', whatever 'it' might be. Oh, and that 'he' should not find out, yet at the same time how could she not tell 'him'!"
"Who? Jackson King?" That did not make any sense at all, he thought.
"Angel," Willow said after a pause. "She said something about only just having gotten him back and that this might ruin things again."
Giles sighed, remembering his own thoughts from just a little while ago. How Buffy had behaved like she was hiding something and how it had reminded him of the time when she had hidden Angel from them.
Why did this not come as a surprise?
"You ... you think they are back together?" Willow asked. "She didn't tell me anything about that, but ... well, ever since Thanksgiving she was a bit ... lighter. Happier."
"I think we can safely assume that she and Angel have found something of a middle ground, though I can't really imagine what it is. Nothing has changed about them that I know, so ..."
He interrupted himself, feeling how tired he was.
"I guess we have two choices now. Letting her sleep and hoping she will be more lucid in the morning or ..."
"...we could call Angel and ask him what's going on," Willow finished the sentence for him.
The Watcher and the witch briefly discussed their options. Leaving Buffy in the state she was in seemed like a bad idea, so they discarded it rather quickly. They considered calling Xander for help in getting Buffy to talk about things, but quickly decided against it. From what little they knew it seemed this was a rather delicate situation and, no matter the boy's loyalty towards his friends, called for more tact and sensitivity than Xander would ever possess. Especially when it came to the topic of Angel.
With no idea what else to do the Watcher, reluctantly, picked up the phone and called Angel in Los Angeles. He had barely begun describing the situation, though, when the other man interrupted him, saying he would be there as fast as he could. He hung up without further comments, leaving Giles and Willow every bit as clueless as before.
Barely ninety minutes after Giles' phone call Angel arrived at the apartment, having broken just about every speed limit his car was capable of breaking. He simply breezed by both Giles and Willow, barely a word of greeting on his lips, making a straight line for Buffy and slamming the bedroom door behind him.
It was probably a good thing that neither Willow nor Giles consciously registered the significance of Angel casting a reflection as he passed the mirror on the stairway. They had quite enough to keep their thoughts busy this night already.
#
Buffy was awake as he entered. She felt his presence, of course, she always did. He could see it in the way her body tensed, the way the tingling in his own belly seemed to change. She was turned away from him, though, lying on her side and staring at the window. Even when he sat down on the bed she did not turn to face him. He placed his hand on her arm and felt her shiver.
"Buffy?" he asked, softly caressing her where he touched. "What happened, beloved?"
For a moment he thought she would not speak to him. As he passed Willow the redhead had called after him, saying that she might not want to talk to him about what had happened. He could almost see her fighting an inner battle as he waited for her to say something.
"I'm so sorry, Angel," she finally whispered under her breath, so softly that he was not sure she had really said it.
"For what?" He gently laid down beside her, slowly pulling her body against his. For a moment she resisted half-heartedly, but finally relented. "What happened?"
"I ... I didn't mean to ... there was nothing I could do, Angel. I didn't want to, but ... I just couldn't stop it."
He made calming noises as he felt her trembling, her voice telling of the state of shock she was in. Something terrible must have happened to her and he could not imagine what it was, especially with the shame and self- loathing she positively radiated in all directions. What could possibly have reduced his strong Buffy to this shaking wreck?
"Tell me, beloved," he whispered into her ear. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it."
It took almost half an hour and repeated assurances of love on his part to finally get the story out of her. She told him what happened in the graveyard with the young man called Jackson King. Over and over she told him that she was sorry, that she had not meant to do it, something had forced her.
White hot anger filled Angel's veins, but none of it was directed at the girl shivering in his arms. Buffy had fought for their relationship more vigorously than anyone, including himself. The very thought that she would cheat on him now was simply ludicrous. No, something else must have happened to her. Something they needed answers about.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Buffy," he assured her, kissing the back of her neck. "We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise you."
He also made another promise to himself in that moment. Whoever this Jackson King was, however he had forced himself onto Buffy, Angel would make him pay for it. Superpowers or no superpowers.
#
Almost an hour after Angel had entered Giles' bedroom he emerged again. He had convinced Buffy to take a shower, wash the dirt and grime of her encounter with the Huntsman off her body. He had watched for a minute, seen the frantic way she scrubbed her skin. The thought that Buffy felt guilty for what had happened was almost more than he could bear.
Walking down into the apartment he saw Giles and Willow both flinch back from the look on his face. He forced himself not to show the seething anger that held his heart in its grip. Instead he filled the other two in on what he had learned, giving them a condensed version of this night's events that had found Buffy's agreement. It left out how far things had really gone.
Even without knowing the full details Willow was appalled, at a loss for words. Giles sat down in his chair, burying his face in his hands.
"I was afraid something like this would happen," the Watcher sighed.
"Did you know it would?" Angel asked, the anger showing on his face again. "Why didn't you warn ...?"
"I didn't know," the Watcher interrupted him. "Our information on the Huntsman was sketchy so far. Tonight, though, the Council sent me a newly decoded text. I did not have time to read through it before Buffy arrived, but ... well, you were upstairs quite a long time, so I did some reading."
"What does it say?"
All three of them turned around to see Buffy standing at the top of the stairs. The little blonde's hair was still wet, but she had dressed in some clean clothes from the small emergency stash she had here at Giles' apartment. There were dark rings under her eyes and her skin, what they could see of it, was red and raw from her scrubbing in the shower.
Angel saw that her hands were shaking.
"Buffy," Giles began softly. "Are you sure you want to ...?"
"I need to know, Giles," she told him in a surprisingly firm voice. "Something ... something happened to me tonight and I ... I need to know. I just need to."
The Watcher took a deep breath, then nodded and motioned for everyone to sit down. Angel and Buffy took the couch, the former quickly pulling her against him in a comforting gesture. For a moment she tensed, her entire body screaming of the shame she felt, but then she relaxed against him, drinking in his still unfamiliar warmth. Unlike the storm-like presence of Jackson King being with Angel felt soothing. Safe.
Willow and Giles both noticed their intimacy, but wisely refrained from commenting for now.
"Very well," Giles said, taking up the papers he had received tonight. "Here is what the Council has learned of the Huntsman so far:"
TO BE CONTINUED