Chapter 6
Willow stood outside Wesley's door shifting from foot to foot as she gathered her courage and firmly donned her
"resolve face."
She knocked.
She waited. She could feel him in there and knew he was home. She knocked again.
"Go away," a low growl responded from the other side of the door.
She knocked again.
This time she heard the chain and locks disengage. Wesley opened the door enough to see who was on the other
side.
"Willow. What are you doing here?"
She took advantage of his surprise to push past him into the apartment.
"Hello, Wesley. Good to see you too." She took in the cluttered living room. A newspaper was scattered on the
coffee table, at least one section had fallen to the floor. There was an empty crystal decanter and a half full
bottle of scotch with a dirty glass on the end table. A copy of Dante's Inferno lay open beside them.
Willow took the chair closest to the one being used and sat down, relaxing, extending her legs and watched
Wesley.
"Make yourself as home," he stated sarcastically.
Willow said nothing and just watched to see what he would do, trying to get a read on the situation. Fred and
Gunn had briefed her on what they knew of what had happened, but Willow knew that what others around you
see isn't always the full story.
"So, are you going to tell me what you are doing here, or are you going to just sit there and stare?"
Willow tried tact first, appealing to the man that she hoped still lived inside him. "We need your help, Wesley."
"Well, I am not really in the business of helping people anymore. I'm afraid you shall have to look elsewhere."
"Don't you even want to know who needs your help and why?"
"Not particularly," he responded in a droll, gravely tone.
"That's too bad," Willow responded, "because I'm going to tell you anyway.
"I need your help. Gunn, Fred and I need your help."
He started to interrupt and she stared at him, resolve face firmly in place. He sat back and motioned for her to
continue, then poured himself a drink.
"Angel is missing and Cordelia is gone. I was sent here in her place and right now it's just the three of us and we
could really use your help. We can't handle the visions alone. We need another fighter. It doesn't hurt that you
have more knowledge of demons and the books than all of us put together."
"I can't help you."
"Why not? Are you too busy feeling sorry for yourself? 'Cause I've been there, you know. It doesn't help. It just
leads to trouble, big trouble."
He looked at her and raised his eyebrow slightly, then toasted her with his glass. "I wish you all the best, good
luck."
"Dammit, Wesley. Do you think that you're the only one with something to feel guilty about? You at least tried to
protect your friends, the ones that you love. I tried to kill mine! I flayed a man alive with a thought, after I
tortured him, and I did it all while my friends watched in horror. Then, for good measure, I tried to end the
world.
"You think you have a monopoly on guilt? Hell, or even the self-righteousness that given the same
circumstances that you would do it all over again, because you did it for them?
"You'll deal with it and you'll get off your ass and help us. You'll do it again because there's no one else and we'll
die without you. You'll do it because just maybe they'll punish you enough that you'll no longer feel that you
have to do it yourself."
"Get out of my house," Wesley spoke in a quiet, deceptively even voice as he examined the amber liquid in his
glass.
"Fine, I'm leaving, but you'll help us. You'll do it for the same reason I did, Wesley. You'll do it, because there is
no other choice."
***********
Chapter 7
Willow met Gunn and Fred back at the hotel. Gunn was sharpening weapons while Fred was sitting behind the
counter, resting her elbows on the top, her chin in her hands. She was fidgeting and talking to Gunn. She
glanced up expectantly when the doors opened. Willow could almost see her face fall in disappointment.
"So, what's up with English -- he coming or what?"
Willow frowned and sighed.
"I knew it," Gunn responded to her dejection.
Willow opened her mouth to respond and cried out as a spear of pain rammed its way into her head. When she
fought her way back to daylight, Gunn was kneeling beside her and Fred was fluttering nervously near her,
asking if she was still alive.
"Demons -- four of them. They were attacking an old couple in their home. Looking for something. You're going
to need help."
"No offense, Red, but you really think you're up to that?"
"Doesn't matter. We can do this, Gunn. We have to. All of us," she looked pointedly at Fred, who quietly nodded
her head in agreement.
They quickly gathered their weapons and worked out a basic plan based on what Willow had seen in her vision.
They were just outside the doors when Willow spoke up.
"Hold on a minute guys, I forgot something. Wait here. I'll be right back." She disappeared back into the lobby
and then joined them again moments later. She ignored Gunn's quizzical expression and continued out onto the
sidewalk.
They arrived at the house just in time to see one of the demons attack the old woman. The other three were
tearing up the house, apparently searching for whatever it was they had come for. Gunn distracted the demons
by attacking the one closest to the fireplace with his hubcap axe and killing it. Willow moved in to hit the one
that was terrorizing the couple, by attacking it with her sword. The remaining two rushed Gunn when they saw
their comrade fall.
"Fred -- get them out of here," Willow shouted.
The shy physicist stuttered a bit as she convinced the couple to follow her outside. They ran off and Fred
returned to join her friends.
One of the two demons that Gunn had been holding off saw Fred remove their prey and went after her to recover
them. The remaining demon stepped up his attack on Gunn.
Willow was still fighting with the leader and had managed to cut it in a few places that were now oozing a
greenish-blue fluid.
Fred was cornered just inside the doorway. The sword she was carrying was knocked from her hand.
Willow was knocked down, landing on her backside. She managed to keep a hold on her sword and thrust it
upward, skewering the monster. As she did, an inhuman scream filled the room. She did a double take at the
demon she had just killed before realizing it came from across the room.
"Fred!" Gunn shouted, still locked in a fight with the largest of the demons when he saw Fred being held in front
of the demon by the door, his forearm across her throat as she was held hostage against its large torso.
The demon grunted and tightened his hold on her throat, causing a strangled squeak to escape her. Gunn's
opponent took advantage of his distraction and sliced his arm with a large claw. Willow tried to move
surreptitiously to remove her sword from the belly of the dead demon.
Light flashed through the room, glinting off steel, as the demon holding Fred was suddenly beheaded. Gunn
turned in rage and killed his opponent, before turning back to Fred.
She turned in the doorway and hugged Wesley, whose double-bladed axe hung limply at his side. He stood
stoically meeting Gunn's eyes.
Gunn looked at him and nodded slowly in acknowledgement, then bent down to pick up his own axe. He then
went to Willow and reached out his hand, pulling her to her feet.
The four of them turned toward the door and stepped into the dawn, walking toward the rising sun, together.
**********
Chapter 8
Wesley joined them all at the hotel the next day around lunchtime. There were circles, like dark bruises under his
eyes and he moved with the careful movements of one suffering from a hangover. The scar stood out angrily on
his neck, but he was freshly shaved. He looked generally better than he had when Willow visited his apartment.
Sensing his need for it, Willow brought him a cup of coffee, preparing it as she had seen him do, in the late night
study sessions for dealing with the mayor, long ago and far away. He sipped the fortifying brew and gave her a
wan smile.
She moved to sit in the chair across from him, crossing her legs on the large cushion and resting a notebook in
her lap. Gunn and Fred sat close together on the couch.
"I guess we need to talk about what we're going to do now. I've told you guys some of what I know about Cordy,
but there seem to be a lot of questions left unanswered. And she isn't the only one missing."
"There were two people I saw in my vision that you mentioned, Lorne and the Groosalug? They seem to have left
on their own.
"That leaves Angel and Connor."
"Connor's missing?" Wesley asked. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, Wes, he disappeared the same night as Angel. Boy was acting weird, too."
"Maybe he and Angel decided to go off and spend some time together, you know, getting to know each other
better? Maybe they went out to the movies and had tacos and they'll be home really soon," Fred offered,
hopefully.
Her half smile was almost painful, as her face showed that she didn't really believe this. The rest of the group
offered her sympathetic smiles.
Willow answered half-heartedly, "Maybe."
"Things were getting better though. Connor -- Stephen -- Jungle Boy -- whatever-you-call-him had stopped
trying to kill Angel and moved in all nice. Apparently, Holtz decided to make nice and wrote the dude a letter
saying that Connor should hang with Angel and that he was going away.
"They were making nice with the father-son bonding and beating up Fred and me in a bit of let's-be-like-the-old-
man sparring." Gunn shrugged.
"Holtz wrote a letter, saying that Conner should stay with Angel and that he was leaving?" Wesley asked,
incredulously.
"That's what Angel said. The boy was whack, but he was playing house and seemed to accept the story."
"Indeed.
"I knew Holtz," Wesley acknowledged wryly, "and I must admit that doesn't sound quite like his style." Wesley
mulled over this information, then frowned and stood up. "Excuse me, I have to go out for a while."
"But we haven't finished our discussion, Wesley," Willow objected, "and we still haven't figured out what
happened to Angel."
"That is why I'm going. I think I may know where to find some answers."
"Where?" Willow asked.
"I am going to go see an old friend."
**********
Chapter 9
Willow lay down with an uneasy feeling. The nightmares that had plagued her almost nightly in Sunnydale had
not been as frequent or severe since she had come to L.A. On the other hand, there was the trade-off of
surround sound, digitally mastered visions with special effects that would leave the creators of The Matrix dizzy.
She was worried about Wesley. Actually, she worried about them all. Fred and Gunn obviously had each other.
Wesley had no one, a lot like herself. She was finding that he was "a lot like her" in more ways than she had
thought.
"Hekate, protect him. Watch over him and light his path on whatever journey he is on this night," she whispered
the prayer. She added a post-script that they all be watched over on the journey that lay ahead.
That was her last thought before she slept.
The dream was different tonight. Tonight, the house was once again empty, but she paused in front of the front
door. The empty house no longer held her. She opened the door and stepped outside. She walked down the
concrete walkway, as it slowly gave way to warm desert sands.
Day became night and the temperature dropped. A full moon rose overhead. She walked on, drawn to a
shimmering fire in the distance. As she drew closer to the fire, she saw a figure sitting on a large flat rock,
tending the flames, and occasionally gazing up to the moon.
"Oz," she spoke in quiet confusion as she drew near the campsite.
"Hello, Willow." He lifted his chin to refer to their surroundings. "It's not exactly Istanbul."
"Why are you here?"
"Don't know," he shrugged. "I guess you needed me."
He scooted over and Willow sat beside him. She picked up a stray stick and began poking at the fire as well,
letting herself be drawn in by the flickering heat. They sat in quiet companionship.
"I really messed up this time, Oz."
He nodded, his face showing silent sympathy.
"I don't know what happened. When did it all get so out of control?"
"You remember when I came back to Sunnydale?" He looked at her and she nodded affirmatively.
"Now, I thought I had the wolf thing under control. The moon was full and I was still Oz." He gestured toward
himself to demonstrate. "But it was like, an illusion. I mean, I was Oz, but I was also the wolf.
"There was this test. I saw you and you were with Tara, and suddenly, I wasn't Oz. I was the wolf. But, that was
an illusion too.
"'Cause maybe I'm not Oz and I'm not the wolf, and I couldn't choose to be Oz because I loved you.
"I'm both.
"Maybe it's the same with you and Tara or the gang. You can't be good Willow or bad Willow. You can just be
'Willow.'"
Oz sat back and began poking at the fire again. He had said what he had wanted to say, imparted his Oz-
wisdom, and was now silent, leaving her to mull over his words.
She turned to him, unable to formulate an answer. He looked back at her and spoke. "It's time to go. Goodbye,
Willow."
He slowly faded away, the fire dying and disappearing with him. She was left cold and alone, sitting on the large
flat rock.
She stood and brushed off the seat of her jeans. She watched in confusion as the moon set over the great
expanse of sand. The sun began its return and she walked toward its rising glory.
The sun was blinding, but she stumbled on. The seemingly endless barren expanse gave way to cushioning green
grass. She walked on, through trees and flowers, to a lush meadow.
In the center of that meadow, Tara sat comfortably on a plaid blanket. A small deer stood near her and licked
softly at her outstretched hand. Her face shone in happiness and child-like laughter. She was as beautiful as
Willow could possibly remember. Willow slowly moved forward, willing the tableau not to fade. A small twig
cracked underfoot and the deer darted away.
"Hello, Willow."
Willow started at the unexpected welcome and moved to sit on the blanket opposite Tara. She moved carefully,
skittish that the vision would once again disappear.
Tara smiled and picked up the flowers in her lap. She began weaving them together into a daisy chain. "Do you
remember this place, Willow?"
Willow blushed and nodded. She had invited Tara along for a picnic and they had made love for hours in the
clearing, until the sun had set and the moon had risen to shine down on them.
"It was so simple then. I loved you, you loved me, and that was all that mattered."
"I still love you," Willow offered fervently.
"I know, Willow." She blushed slightly, even in this otherworldly form. "I always knew. I love you too. I always
did and always will.
"Something else changed. We stopped trusting each other with that love. I think it happened when we lost Buffy.
You didn't come to me when things got out of hand, because you were afraid of losing me. You didn't want to
admit that you couldn't handle it. Deep down, I think you even thought that if you didn't have that power, I
wouldn't be with you. But, that's not true. You know that's not true.
"I had doubts and insecurities as well. I wondered what you saw in me, what I had ever done to deserve you. I
let things happen, watched you get lost, rather than losing you.
"We were both wrong, but not about love. Love is never wrong. Love is what makes life worth living. I love you,
Willow but my time is past. I'm gone, but you aren't. You still have to live and to love."
Tears ran down Willow's face as she listened to her shy girlfriend's heartfelt speech. Tara always spoke from the
heart. It was one of the things Willow loved about her. She knew that Tara spoke the truth.
Tara wrapped Willow in her embrace. Willow clung to the blonde and wept. She cried for her mistakes and then
cried for her blessings. She felt the love that she had shared with this wonderful woman and her broken heart
started to mend. She started to let go, knowing that she would always carry a part of this love with her, and that
no one could ever take that from her.
Finally, her sobs quieted and she rested peacefully in Tara's lap. The quiet witch stroked her hair comfortingly.
The sounds of the meadow slowly returned to them and Willow gazed up into her lover's face. "I love you, Tara."
Tara smiled radiantly and bent down to place a soft kiss on Willow's brow. "Goodbye, Willow."
Willow sat up and watched Tara fade away. She wiped her tears away and smoothed back her hair. She still
mourned Tara's loss, but now held a new peace.
She stood up and looked around. Then, she picked up the blanket they had been laying on and carefully folded it
up. She reverently placed it at the base of a nearby tree, knowing it would be there should she ever need to visit
this place again.
She walked on. The ground underfoot changed from grass to packed dirt. Small stones littered the path and
protruded from the worn, traveled ground. The trees closed in, their branches forming a tight canopy, until they
were no longer trunks and leaves enclosing her, but stone walls. Ahead she could see a light.
She emerged on a small inlet beach. It was surrounded by the stone face of a cliff had been worn away over
time, creating small caves, like the one she had just exited.
Cordelia stood in the middle of the small beach. She was wearing a blue-green bikini and the incoming waves
were licking at her toes. She could have been anywhere, lounging and working on her tan, except she stood on
the deserted sand, no radio, no towel, no suntan lotion, just gazing out toward the ever-encroaching sea. The
look on her face seemed to be one of longing.
Without turning, she spoke. "You're lucky, you know. You get to say goodbye. They knew how you felt and they
loved you back.
"They say life is short. Pffft. Life is only short when you have love. Otherwise, it seems to drag on forever. But,
when you're in love - there's never enough time. Every moment, every second seems to fly by, sliding through
your fingers like so many grains of sand." She gestured around her to illustrate her point.
Willow walked up to where Cordelia was standing, still looking out toward the horizon. The water now lapped at
her ankles.
Finally, Cordelia looked at her. "You've just begun. There is so much ahead of you still. There is so much that
you still have to do, so much life, so much love." Cordelia smiled down at her, "Good luck, Willow." She turned
and began walking toward the incoming wave, sliding deeper and deeper into the ocean.
Willow stood in confusion, and then looked back at noises that seemed to be coming from behind her. She turned
toward the caves and the sounds of an apparent battle that seemed to be coming from one of them. She
wondered why she hadn't heard it before and wandered curiously toward it.
Flames danced on the cave walls, obscuring, rather than illuminating, the dark scene. There was a figure inside,
fighting with a shadowy opponent. He cried out, and for a moment, she almost recognized him. She tried to rush
forward to help him.
A large, gray demon appeared to black her way. He held a large arm out in front of her shoulders lightly, keeping
her from entering the cave, but making no move to restrain or hurt her. She kicked at its shins and he tilted his
head to the side to look down at her, like an adult asking a child what exactly they thought they were doing.
"I can't let you in there, seer. Everyone must fight their own battles in their own time. This is not your fight."
She thought about what he said and stopped struggling. "Why does he have to go through this alone?"
Skip looked down at her amused. "Whoever said he was alone?"
For a brief moment, the cave was partly illuminated and she saw Wesley fighting a dark figure. They were
surrounded by a small group of people. She gasped as she recognized herself. Fred and Gunn stood next to her.
**********
Chapter 10
Wesley walked into the headquarters of the rogue band that had been working with Holtz. He shivered a bit at
the thought of returning here. Angel and Lilah's words rang in his head, but Fred's haunted him the most.
"I thought what Angel tried to do to you was wrong - and I'm sorry. - But he was right to blame you, Wesley.
You should have come to us. You should have trusted us instead of going to Holtz behind our back. You're
supposed to be our friend and you didn't even..."
Wesley squared his shoulders and stepped into the dimly lit room. A young thug stepped up to Wesley, pressing
a baseball bat against his chest.
Wesley quietly spoke, "Hello, Justine."
"Well, well. You are the last person I expected to see here." Justine motioned to the young man. "Let him go."
Wesley smiled, in a way that didn't quite temper the hatred in his eyes. "Yes, well, I didn't assume that I would
be making your acquaintance again so soon either. Let's dispense with the small talk, shall we? I want to see
Holtz."
"You haven't heard? Holtz is dead. Your pet vampire killed him."
"I'm sure that Angel did no such thing. You forget, I know first hand of your way of manipulating situations to
your advantage."
"Yeah, I guess you do. Tell me Wesley, what were you thinking of as you lay there dying? Did you think the
vampire would come save you? After you betrayed him and your friends and took his son, you still thought he
would come running to your rescue, didn't you?
"Because he has a soul? A lot of good that does him now," she laughed. "He is still a demon, still a monster."
"What did you do to him?" Wesley spit out the words accusingly.
"Me? I didn't do anything. I just helped him get what was coming to him. I helped Holtz get his revenge. I helped
him die knowing that Angel would get his. That monster would pay for what he did to Holtz's family and for my
sister."
"Your sister?"
"A vampire killed her, a monster just like your friend."
"Angel didn't kill your sister and he didn't kill Holtz."
"It doesn't matter. The boy did better than kill your friend; he made him suffer: just like Holtz suffered, just like
I suffer.
"I didn't think I could do it. I pressed that ice pick against his neck and watched his eyes beg me to do it. It was
even easier than slitting your throat. It was worth it. It was worth it because now I have my revenge and so
does Holtz."
"Noooooo"! Connor screamed and ran in from where he had been hiding and listening, unnoticed by Justine. He
grabbed and attacking her. "No! You killed him! You killed my father!"
Wesley moved forward to stop Connor as he pulled a knife from his boot. He was about to kill Justine and he
couldn't let that happen, no matter how much he wanted the vindictive bitch dead.
"Stop! Don't do this, Connor. Don't! It won't bring him back. Trust me, it never brings them back. She'll pay for
what she did, but not this way. If you kill her, you will be no better than her. She doesn't deserve that mercy."
He held tight to Connor, while pushing Justine to the ground. Several of Holtz's former gang ran into the room at
the commotion.
"She doesn't have to win. Tell me where Angel is. Tell me what you did to him. Where is he?" Wesley asked
angrily.
"No! I won't help him." Connor slammed his foot into Wesley's shin and pulled free from his hold. He ran past
Justine's troops and disappeared out a side door.
Wesley turned to Justine. "Make no mistake. I didn't do this for you. It's not over between us. I would advise you
to stay the hell away from my friends and me. I may not be so magnanimous a third time, " he said in cryptic
warning as he turned to leave, staring down the one guy who tried to block his exit.
Wesley could see Connor running down the street. The young boy had too far of a head start for him to catch
him. Suddenly, a black limousine stopped in front of the boy and two utility vehicles boxed him in from the sides.
Men in commando outfits jumped down from the vehicles and grabbed the boy. They shoved him into the car.
Wesley swore that he could see Gavin Park's grin even at that distance.
**********
Willow stood outside Wesley's door shifting from foot to foot as she gathered her courage and firmly donned her
"resolve face."
She knocked.
She waited. She could feel him in there and knew he was home. She knocked again.
"Go away," a low growl responded from the other side of the door.
She knocked again.
This time she heard the chain and locks disengage. Wesley opened the door enough to see who was on the other
side.
"Willow. What are you doing here?"
She took advantage of his surprise to push past him into the apartment.
"Hello, Wesley. Good to see you too." She took in the cluttered living room. A newspaper was scattered on the
coffee table, at least one section had fallen to the floor. There was an empty crystal decanter and a half full
bottle of scotch with a dirty glass on the end table. A copy of Dante's Inferno lay open beside them.
Willow took the chair closest to the one being used and sat down, relaxing, extending her legs and watched
Wesley.
"Make yourself as home," he stated sarcastically.
Willow said nothing and just watched to see what he would do, trying to get a read on the situation. Fred and
Gunn had briefed her on what they knew of what had happened, but Willow knew that what others around you
see isn't always the full story.
"So, are you going to tell me what you are doing here, or are you going to just sit there and stare?"
Willow tried tact first, appealing to the man that she hoped still lived inside him. "We need your help, Wesley."
"Well, I am not really in the business of helping people anymore. I'm afraid you shall have to look elsewhere."
"Don't you even want to know who needs your help and why?"
"Not particularly," he responded in a droll, gravely tone.
"That's too bad," Willow responded, "because I'm going to tell you anyway.
"I need your help. Gunn, Fred and I need your help."
He started to interrupt and she stared at him, resolve face firmly in place. He sat back and motioned for her to
continue, then poured himself a drink.
"Angel is missing and Cordelia is gone. I was sent here in her place and right now it's just the three of us and we
could really use your help. We can't handle the visions alone. We need another fighter. It doesn't hurt that you
have more knowledge of demons and the books than all of us put together."
"I can't help you."
"Why not? Are you too busy feeling sorry for yourself? 'Cause I've been there, you know. It doesn't help. It just
leads to trouble, big trouble."
He looked at her and raised his eyebrow slightly, then toasted her with his glass. "I wish you all the best, good
luck."
"Dammit, Wesley. Do you think that you're the only one with something to feel guilty about? You at least tried to
protect your friends, the ones that you love. I tried to kill mine! I flayed a man alive with a thought, after I
tortured him, and I did it all while my friends watched in horror. Then, for good measure, I tried to end the
world.
"You think you have a monopoly on guilt? Hell, or even the self-righteousness that given the same
circumstances that you would do it all over again, because you did it for them?
"You'll deal with it and you'll get off your ass and help us. You'll do it again because there's no one else and we'll
die without you. You'll do it because just maybe they'll punish you enough that you'll no longer feel that you
have to do it yourself."
"Get out of my house," Wesley spoke in a quiet, deceptively even voice as he examined the amber liquid in his
glass.
"Fine, I'm leaving, but you'll help us. You'll do it for the same reason I did, Wesley. You'll do it, because there is
no other choice."
***********
Chapter 7
Willow met Gunn and Fred back at the hotel. Gunn was sharpening weapons while Fred was sitting behind the
counter, resting her elbows on the top, her chin in her hands. She was fidgeting and talking to Gunn. She
glanced up expectantly when the doors opened. Willow could almost see her face fall in disappointment.
"So, what's up with English -- he coming or what?"
Willow frowned and sighed.
"I knew it," Gunn responded to her dejection.
Willow opened her mouth to respond and cried out as a spear of pain rammed its way into her head. When she
fought her way back to daylight, Gunn was kneeling beside her and Fred was fluttering nervously near her,
asking if she was still alive.
"Demons -- four of them. They were attacking an old couple in their home. Looking for something. You're going
to need help."
"No offense, Red, but you really think you're up to that?"
"Doesn't matter. We can do this, Gunn. We have to. All of us," she looked pointedly at Fred, who quietly nodded
her head in agreement.
They quickly gathered their weapons and worked out a basic plan based on what Willow had seen in her vision.
They were just outside the doors when Willow spoke up.
"Hold on a minute guys, I forgot something. Wait here. I'll be right back." She disappeared back into the lobby
and then joined them again moments later. She ignored Gunn's quizzical expression and continued out onto the
sidewalk.
They arrived at the house just in time to see one of the demons attack the old woman. The other three were
tearing up the house, apparently searching for whatever it was they had come for. Gunn distracted the demons
by attacking the one closest to the fireplace with his hubcap axe and killing it. Willow moved in to hit the one
that was terrorizing the couple, by attacking it with her sword. The remaining two rushed Gunn when they saw
their comrade fall.
"Fred -- get them out of here," Willow shouted.
The shy physicist stuttered a bit as she convinced the couple to follow her outside. They ran off and Fred
returned to join her friends.
One of the two demons that Gunn had been holding off saw Fred remove their prey and went after her to recover
them. The remaining demon stepped up his attack on Gunn.
Willow was still fighting with the leader and had managed to cut it in a few places that were now oozing a
greenish-blue fluid.
Fred was cornered just inside the doorway. The sword she was carrying was knocked from her hand.
Willow was knocked down, landing on her backside. She managed to keep a hold on her sword and thrust it
upward, skewering the monster. As she did, an inhuman scream filled the room. She did a double take at the
demon she had just killed before realizing it came from across the room.
"Fred!" Gunn shouted, still locked in a fight with the largest of the demons when he saw Fred being held in front
of the demon by the door, his forearm across her throat as she was held hostage against its large torso.
The demon grunted and tightened his hold on her throat, causing a strangled squeak to escape her. Gunn's
opponent took advantage of his distraction and sliced his arm with a large claw. Willow tried to move
surreptitiously to remove her sword from the belly of the dead demon.
Light flashed through the room, glinting off steel, as the demon holding Fred was suddenly beheaded. Gunn
turned in rage and killed his opponent, before turning back to Fred.
She turned in the doorway and hugged Wesley, whose double-bladed axe hung limply at his side. He stood
stoically meeting Gunn's eyes.
Gunn looked at him and nodded slowly in acknowledgement, then bent down to pick up his own axe. He then
went to Willow and reached out his hand, pulling her to her feet.
The four of them turned toward the door and stepped into the dawn, walking toward the rising sun, together.
**********
Chapter 8
Wesley joined them all at the hotel the next day around lunchtime. There were circles, like dark bruises under his
eyes and he moved with the careful movements of one suffering from a hangover. The scar stood out angrily on
his neck, but he was freshly shaved. He looked generally better than he had when Willow visited his apartment.
Sensing his need for it, Willow brought him a cup of coffee, preparing it as she had seen him do, in the late night
study sessions for dealing with the mayor, long ago and far away. He sipped the fortifying brew and gave her a
wan smile.
She moved to sit in the chair across from him, crossing her legs on the large cushion and resting a notebook in
her lap. Gunn and Fred sat close together on the couch.
"I guess we need to talk about what we're going to do now. I've told you guys some of what I know about Cordy,
but there seem to be a lot of questions left unanswered. And she isn't the only one missing."
"There were two people I saw in my vision that you mentioned, Lorne and the Groosalug? They seem to have left
on their own.
"That leaves Angel and Connor."
"Connor's missing?" Wesley asked. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, Wes, he disappeared the same night as Angel. Boy was acting weird, too."
"Maybe he and Angel decided to go off and spend some time together, you know, getting to know each other
better? Maybe they went out to the movies and had tacos and they'll be home really soon," Fred offered,
hopefully.
Her half smile was almost painful, as her face showed that she didn't really believe this. The rest of the group
offered her sympathetic smiles.
Willow answered half-heartedly, "Maybe."
"Things were getting better though. Connor -- Stephen -- Jungle Boy -- whatever-you-call-him had stopped
trying to kill Angel and moved in all nice. Apparently, Holtz decided to make nice and wrote the dude a letter
saying that Connor should hang with Angel and that he was going away.
"They were making nice with the father-son bonding and beating up Fred and me in a bit of let's-be-like-the-old-
man sparring." Gunn shrugged.
"Holtz wrote a letter, saying that Conner should stay with Angel and that he was leaving?" Wesley asked,
incredulously.
"That's what Angel said. The boy was whack, but he was playing house and seemed to accept the story."
"Indeed.
"I knew Holtz," Wesley acknowledged wryly, "and I must admit that doesn't sound quite like his style." Wesley
mulled over this information, then frowned and stood up. "Excuse me, I have to go out for a while."
"But we haven't finished our discussion, Wesley," Willow objected, "and we still haven't figured out what
happened to Angel."
"That is why I'm going. I think I may know where to find some answers."
"Where?" Willow asked.
"I am going to go see an old friend."
**********
Chapter 9
Willow lay down with an uneasy feeling. The nightmares that had plagued her almost nightly in Sunnydale had
not been as frequent or severe since she had come to L.A. On the other hand, there was the trade-off of
surround sound, digitally mastered visions with special effects that would leave the creators of The Matrix dizzy.
She was worried about Wesley. Actually, she worried about them all. Fred and Gunn obviously had each other.
Wesley had no one, a lot like herself. She was finding that he was "a lot like her" in more ways than she had
thought.
"Hekate, protect him. Watch over him and light his path on whatever journey he is on this night," she whispered
the prayer. She added a post-script that they all be watched over on the journey that lay ahead.
That was her last thought before she slept.
The dream was different tonight. Tonight, the house was once again empty, but she paused in front of the front
door. The empty house no longer held her. She opened the door and stepped outside. She walked down the
concrete walkway, as it slowly gave way to warm desert sands.
Day became night and the temperature dropped. A full moon rose overhead. She walked on, drawn to a
shimmering fire in the distance. As she drew closer to the fire, she saw a figure sitting on a large flat rock,
tending the flames, and occasionally gazing up to the moon.
"Oz," she spoke in quiet confusion as she drew near the campsite.
"Hello, Willow." He lifted his chin to refer to their surroundings. "It's not exactly Istanbul."
"Why are you here?"
"Don't know," he shrugged. "I guess you needed me."
He scooted over and Willow sat beside him. She picked up a stray stick and began poking at the fire as well,
letting herself be drawn in by the flickering heat. They sat in quiet companionship.
"I really messed up this time, Oz."
He nodded, his face showing silent sympathy.
"I don't know what happened. When did it all get so out of control?"
"You remember when I came back to Sunnydale?" He looked at her and she nodded affirmatively.
"Now, I thought I had the wolf thing under control. The moon was full and I was still Oz." He gestured toward
himself to demonstrate. "But it was like, an illusion. I mean, I was Oz, but I was also the wolf.
"There was this test. I saw you and you were with Tara, and suddenly, I wasn't Oz. I was the wolf. But, that was
an illusion too.
"'Cause maybe I'm not Oz and I'm not the wolf, and I couldn't choose to be Oz because I loved you.
"I'm both.
"Maybe it's the same with you and Tara or the gang. You can't be good Willow or bad Willow. You can just be
'Willow.'"
Oz sat back and began poking at the fire again. He had said what he had wanted to say, imparted his Oz-
wisdom, and was now silent, leaving her to mull over his words.
She turned to him, unable to formulate an answer. He looked back at her and spoke. "It's time to go. Goodbye,
Willow."
He slowly faded away, the fire dying and disappearing with him. She was left cold and alone, sitting on the large
flat rock.
She stood and brushed off the seat of her jeans. She watched in confusion as the moon set over the great
expanse of sand. The sun began its return and she walked toward its rising glory.
The sun was blinding, but she stumbled on. The seemingly endless barren expanse gave way to cushioning green
grass. She walked on, through trees and flowers, to a lush meadow.
In the center of that meadow, Tara sat comfortably on a plaid blanket. A small deer stood near her and licked
softly at her outstretched hand. Her face shone in happiness and child-like laughter. She was as beautiful as
Willow could possibly remember. Willow slowly moved forward, willing the tableau not to fade. A small twig
cracked underfoot and the deer darted away.
"Hello, Willow."
Willow started at the unexpected welcome and moved to sit on the blanket opposite Tara. She moved carefully,
skittish that the vision would once again disappear.
Tara smiled and picked up the flowers in her lap. She began weaving them together into a daisy chain. "Do you
remember this place, Willow?"
Willow blushed and nodded. She had invited Tara along for a picnic and they had made love for hours in the
clearing, until the sun had set and the moon had risen to shine down on them.
"It was so simple then. I loved you, you loved me, and that was all that mattered."
"I still love you," Willow offered fervently.
"I know, Willow." She blushed slightly, even in this otherworldly form. "I always knew. I love you too. I always
did and always will.
"Something else changed. We stopped trusting each other with that love. I think it happened when we lost Buffy.
You didn't come to me when things got out of hand, because you were afraid of losing me. You didn't want to
admit that you couldn't handle it. Deep down, I think you even thought that if you didn't have that power, I
wouldn't be with you. But, that's not true. You know that's not true.
"I had doubts and insecurities as well. I wondered what you saw in me, what I had ever done to deserve you. I
let things happen, watched you get lost, rather than losing you.
"We were both wrong, but not about love. Love is never wrong. Love is what makes life worth living. I love you,
Willow but my time is past. I'm gone, but you aren't. You still have to live and to love."
Tears ran down Willow's face as she listened to her shy girlfriend's heartfelt speech. Tara always spoke from the
heart. It was one of the things Willow loved about her. She knew that Tara spoke the truth.
Tara wrapped Willow in her embrace. Willow clung to the blonde and wept. She cried for her mistakes and then
cried for her blessings. She felt the love that she had shared with this wonderful woman and her broken heart
started to mend. She started to let go, knowing that she would always carry a part of this love with her, and that
no one could ever take that from her.
Finally, her sobs quieted and she rested peacefully in Tara's lap. The quiet witch stroked her hair comfortingly.
The sounds of the meadow slowly returned to them and Willow gazed up into her lover's face. "I love you, Tara."
Tara smiled radiantly and bent down to place a soft kiss on Willow's brow. "Goodbye, Willow."
Willow sat up and watched Tara fade away. She wiped her tears away and smoothed back her hair. She still
mourned Tara's loss, but now held a new peace.
She stood up and looked around. Then, she picked up the blanket they had been laying on and carefully folded it
up. She reverently placed it at the base of a nearby tree, knowing it would be there should she ever need to visit
this place again.
She walked on. The ground underfoot changed from grass to packed dirt. Small stones littered the path and
protruded from the worn, traveled ground. The trees closed in, their branches forming a tight canopy, until they
were no longer trunks and leaves enclosing her, but stone walls. Ahead she could see a light.
She emerged on a small inlet beach. It was surrounded by the stone face of a cliff had been worn away over
time, creating small caves, like the one she had just exited.
Cordelia stood in the middle of the small beach. She was wearing a blue-green bikini and the incoming waves
were licking at her toes. She could have been anywhere, lounging and working on her tan, except she stood on
the deserted sand, no radio, no towel, no suntan lotion, just gazing out toward the ever-encroaching sea. The
look on her face seemed to be one of longing.
Without turning, she spoke. "You're lucky, you know. You get to say goodbye. They knew how you felt and they
loved you back.
"They say life is short. Pffft. Life is only short when you have love. Otherwise, it seems to drag on forever. But,
when you're in love - there's never enough time. Every moment, every second seems to fly by, sliding through
your fingers like so many grains of sand." She gestured around her to illustrate her point.
Willow walked up to where Cordelia was standing, still looking out toward the horizon. The water now lapped at
her ankles.
Finally, Cordelia looked at her. "You've just begun. There is so much ahead of you still. There is so much that
you still have to do, so much life, so much love." Cordelia smiled down at her, "Good luck, Willow." She turned
and began walking toward the incoming wave, sliding deeper and deeper into the ocean.
Willow stood in confusion, and then looked back at noises that seemed to be coming from behind her. She turned
toward the caves and the sounds of an apparent battle that seemed to be coming from one of them. She
wondered why she hadn't heard it before and wandered curiously toward it.
Flames danced on the cave walls, obscuring, rather than illuminating, the dark scene. There was a figure inside,
fighting with a shadowy opponent. He cried out, and for a moment, she almost recognized him. She tried to rush
forward to help him.
A large, gray demon appeared to black her way. He held a large arm out in front of her shoulders lightly, keeping
her from entering the cave, but making no move to restrain or hurt her. She kicked at its shins and he tilted his
head to the side to look down at her, like an adult asking a child what exactly they thought they were doing.
"I can't let you in there, seer. Everyone must fight their own battles in their own time. This is not your fight."
She thought about what he said and stopped struggling. "Why does he have to go through this alone?"
Skip looked down at her amused. "Whoever said he was alone?"
For a brief moment, the cave was partly illuminated and she saw Wesley fighting a dark figure. They were
surrounded by a small group of people. She gasped as she recognized herself. Fred and Gunn stood next to her.
**********
Chapter 10
Wesley walked into the headquarters of the rogue band that had been working with Holtz. He shivered a bit at
the thought of returning here. Angel and Lilah's words rang in his head, but Fred's haunted him the most.
"I thought what Angel tried to do to you was wrong - and I'm sorry. - But he was right to blame you, Wesley.
You should have come to us. You should have trusted us instead of going to Holtz behind our back. You're
supposed to be our friend and you didn't even..."
Wesley squared his shoulders and stepped into the dimly lit room. A young thug stepped up to Wesley, pressing
a baseball bat against his chest.
Wesley quietly spoke, "Hello, Justine."
"Well, well. You are the last person I expected to see here." Justine motioned to the young man. "Let him go."
Wesley smiled, in a way that didn't quite temper the hatred in his eyes. "Yes, well, I didn't assume that I would
be making your acquaintance again so soon either. Let's dispense with the small talk, shall we? I want to see
Holtz."
"You haven't heard? Holtz is dead. Your pet vampire killed him."
"I'm sure that Angel did no such thing. You forget, I know first hand of your way of manipulating situations to
your advantage."
"Yeah, I guess you do. Tell me Wesley, what were you thinking of as you lay there dying? Did you think the
vampire would come save you? After you betrayed him and your friends and took his son, you still thought he
would come running to your rescue, didn't you?
"Because he has a soul? A lot of good that does him now," she laughed. "He is still a demon, still a monster."
"What did you do to him?" Wesley spit out the words accusingly.
"Me? I didn't do anything. I just helped him get what was coming to him. I helped Holtz get his revenge. I helped
him die knowing that Angel would get his. That monster would pay for what he did to Holtz's family and for my
sister."
"Your sister?"
"A vampire killed her, a monster just like your friend."
"Angel didn't kill your sister and he didn't kill Holtz."
"It doesn't matter. The boy did better than kill your friend; he made him suffer: just like Holtz suffered, just like
I suffer.
"I didn't think I could do it. I pressed that ice pick against his neck and watched his eyes beg me to do it. It was
even easier than slitting your throat. It was worth it. It was worth it because now I have my revenge and so
does Holtz."
"Noooooo"! Connor screamed and ran in from where he had been hiding and listening, unnoticed by Justine. He
grabbed and attacking her. "No! You killed him! You killed my father!"
Wesley moved forward to stop Connor as he pulled a knife from his boot. He was about to kill Justine and he
couldn't let that happen, no matter how much he wanted the vindictive bitch dead.
"Stop! Don't do this, Connor. Don't! It won't bring him back. Trust me, it never brings them back. She'll pay for
what she did, but not this way. If you kill her, you will be no better than her. She doesn't deserve that mercy."
He held tight to Connor, while pushing Justine to the ground. Several of Holtz's former gang ran into the room at
the commotion.
"She doesn't have to win. Tell me where Angel is. Tell me what you did to him. Where is he?" Wesley asked
angrily.
"No! I won't help him." Connor slammed his foot into Wesley's shin and pulled free from his hold. He ran past
Justine's troops and disappeared out a side door.
Wesley turned to Justine. "Make no mistake. I didn't do this for you. It's not over between us. I would advise you
to stay the hell away from my friends and me. I may not be so magnanimous a third time, " he said in cryptic
warning as he turned to leave, staring down the one guy who tried to block his exit.
Wesley could see Connor running down the street. The young boy had too far of a head start for him to catch
him. Suddenly, a black limousine stopped in front of the boy and two utility vehicles boxed him in from the sides.
Men in commando outfits jumped down from the vehicles and grabbed the boy. They shoved him into the car.
Wesley swore that he could see Gavin Park's grin even at that distance.
**********