Title : Blood part 1/2
Author : Goldy
Email : thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com
Disclaimer : I hate you, ME.
Spoilers : None
Synopsis : Angelus. Pain. More pain. It'll be fun.
A/N : Major character death warning.
Dedication : My bud Laura who's a W/T shipper, major slasher, and has been betaing for me recently. She's been amazing, supportive, and wonderful. I couldn't get this out without her.
Feedback : Yes, please.
Raiting : PG-13
"So let me get this straight," Ethan began conversationally, "I bind Angel's soul back to him. Then you let me go."
Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn glanced at each other nervously. "Well, we didn't say that…" Wesley protested.
Gunn picked up his broadsword and walked towards Ethan Rayne with a light step. Thrusting it into the wall beside the man's shoulder, he said, "No, I believe we agreed that you'd get to live."
Ethan looked at the sword protruding from the wall out of the corner of his eye. "Ahhh, I remember now."
Cordelia groaned, "We aren't getting anywhere! Who knows what Angel's already done!"
Gunn turned back around to look at her suspiciously. "How dangerous is he, really?"
Wesley took off his glasses and sighed deeply. Rubbing his forehead, he thought for a minute. "Angel has a killer living inside him constantly. Ruthless, bloodthirsty, cruel, driven half-insane by the soul's constant control of it. He's obsessed with art, with passion. Obsessed with Buffy like a madman. He wants to kill her, torture her, mate with her. There is nothing that will stand in his way. Once Angelus sets his mind to something, he will have it and kill everything in his way."
"I'm sorry I asked," Gunn muttered.
"He doesn't know the half of it!" Cordelia snapped, "You weren't even there when Angel went evil the first time!"
Wesley looked a tad miffed. "I assure you, I read up on Mr. Giles' journals quite extensively."
"You don't remember what it was like, Wesley! Reading up on his diaries one thing…. I mean, Angel killed his Giles' girlfriend. It's just… God…" stopping her rant, Cordelia abruptly left the room.
Ethan Rayne looked a little amused. "This is actually quite funny. Has anyone ever thought of taping this and putting it on TV?"
The other men didn't even look at him. "Should we go see if she's alright?" Gunn asked.
Wesley looked in the direction Cordelia had gone. He knew she shouldn't be anywhere alone. "I'll go talk to her," he said. He looked at Gunn, "Find out what we need for the spell." Wesley was about to go after Cordy but turned back around with a frown marring his face. "On second thought, find out what the spell actually entails, hmmm?
Once the Brit had left the room, Gunn glared at their hostage. "You're a terrible, sick man, you know that?"
"Why, thank you. I try."
Gunn sighed. "You heard the man, what does the spell 'entail'?"
***
Buffy didn't spare any time. Tearing off the IV lines, she hefted Dawn up into her arms. As Buffy was carrying her quickly down the hall she noticed that it was abandoned. The silence seemed to penetrate her ears until she was afraid she might scream just to make some noise. As she and Dawn neared the waiting room, Buffy's stomach sank. She had secretly hoped that Angelus had snuck in without seeing anybody. But that hope was dashed in a terror filled second.
What greeted her was a picture from a horror movie.
The nurse on duty was lying face down on her desk, throat slit and blood still trickling out. People were lying, crumpled against each other. Mothers, daughters, fathers, sons, friends, the hurt, and the healing. All were slumped in a sleep that they would never wake up from.
Dawn sucked in a deep breath. Buffy wanted to tell her to close her eyes. Wanted to rush her out of the place. But she was frozen. All those people… killed by one. Doctors rushed by, taking pulses, trying to identify bodies. She could hear the faint scream of a siren off in the distance. She knew that the police wouldn't be able to help. She was the only one that could do anything about the monster that had done this.
But she didn't know how to.
And people cried. Great sobs of grief, the ones who were still alive clutched those dearest to them. It was a painful play of death. A mockery of everything the slayer stood for.
It was hell.
And then Buffy lay eyes on someone else. Her mind slowly realized what was going on, and her jellied legs sprang into action. She put Dawn down, made her lie against as wall even as she retched and coughed.
Buffy ran across the room like she was possessed. Slumping down she took Fred's pulse and gave a little cry when she couldn't find one. The brunette was lying spread out in the middle of the room. Eyes were wide with fear and incomprehension.
"I'm so sorry," Buffy choked out painfully, touching one of Fred's lifeless hands. Blood was trickling down her neck, staining the white fabric of her t-shirt. The loss of her new friend shook Buffy down to her core.
Angelus was really back.
And he was out to strike against her friends. 'It's a warning,' she realized dully. Next he would come after Wesley, or Cordy, or even Dawn again. Then, when she had nothing left, he would take her and kill her. 'No,' her mind protested with fury. He would take her, when she had no will left to fight, and he would turn her.
She shook, grasping Fred's hand and whispering incessant apologies. She was so so sorry. That she was always too late. That Angel was the one foe that she loved and hated most.
A doctor put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Do you know this woman?"
The voice seemed to be coming from a long way away. Buffy squinted trying to focus on the woman's face. "Yes…" she cried softly, "I know her. I'm sorry."
The doctor's smile was of sympathy. "It's not your fault, dear." Taking Buffy's arm, she helped her up even as Buffy's mind sluggishly protested. It was her fault. All her fault. "There's nothing you could have done," the woman said kindly, leading her to one of the nurses with a clipboard.
The nurse asked her questions about Fred's family, her history, and Buffy answered them all as best as she could. But she hadn't know Fred for a very long time before she died. Buffy liked her a lot, she was really sorry that she died. She told the nurse that, and the nurse blinked, finally telling her that she could go.
Buffy nodded mutely. There were things that needed to be done. She needed to go find Dawn. Make Dawnie feel better. The past few hours had been difficult on her little sister. She would need support. And she had to let the others know. They all knew Fred better than her.
They would be sad when they learned what had happened.
***
"Cordy…" Wesley began, finding her in the kitchen.
She was pacing back and forth, opening shelves and putting things on the counter. She opened the fridge and took out a bottle of grape juice. "Would you like some?" she asked sweetly.
Wesley shook his head, not quite sure how to respond.
Cordelia shrugged, opening the grape juice and pouring some into a plate that she had taken out of the cupboard. She let out a little laugh. "Ooops! That's not going to help."
The ex-watcher felt his heart tighten in sympathy. Taking her arm, he gently extracted the juice from her grip. "I always find that tea is good for situations like this," he said calmly.
She groaned. "You weird English guys and your tea." Slumping down at the kitchen table, she lay her head on her arms as Wesley set about putting on the kettle. "I hate tea," she pouted.
Wesley stared at her, deep in thought. "You're hurt," he finally realized.
The old May Queen stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "Uh, can I just say, duh?"
"All those times that Angel talked about going evil you never expected it to happen." Taking mugs out of the cupboards, Wesley paused and thought again. "Now that it has you're mad at him for letting it happen. Especially for leaving Buffy like this."
She slapped the table, and Wesley gave a little jump. "How could he just do that? What could he *possibly* find even REMOTELY happy about the situation? Buffy almost died. AGAIN! And he was being all Suicide Boy and then BAM!" Cordelia hit the table again and Wesley sloshed some of the hot water from the kettle on his hand. "He turns into an evil, crazy, bent on killing us all fiend."
Sticking his burned finger into his mouth, Wesley nodded mutely. "I suppose that knowing Buffy was going to be okay made him content," Wesley mumbled.
She blinked at him. "Huh? Shuppose bushy wash shokay?" Wesley looked at her incomprehensibly, so she rolled her eyes and said, "Could you take your hand out of your mouth?"
He sighed painfully, but dropped his throbbing hand down to his side. "Finding out that he hadn't lost Buffy after all must have come as a huge relief."
"I guess so," Cordelia admitted doubtfully.
Wesley poured the hot water into the two cups and sat down next to Cordelia. She accepted the mug of steaming tea gratefully. "Angel's mind works different from ours, we can't even hope to understand it," Wesley mused, "for some reason, Buffy makes him happier than no other. Perhaps all that it took was her to say something funny."
Cordelia took a sip of tea, frowned. Getting up, she brought the sugar bowl back to the table. "She probably only smiled at him," she said in a sarcastic, bitter tone, ladling five or six spoons of sugar into her cup.
Wesley couldn't hide his grimace of disgust. Thankfully, she didn't notice. "The trials of love. It's quite interesting how it makes different people react."
She snorted. "I'm going to be so pissed at him once we get him back."
Wes smiled. "And we will get him back, Cordy. I don't think Buffy would have it any other way."
Gunn came flying into the kitchen. The other two, finally relatively calm, looked up at him questioningly. He raised one finger, taking a few deep gasps of air. "I just talked to Buffy."
Cordelia could feel the colour drain from her face. "Oh God…."
"Angelus came to the hospital…" Gunn closed his eyes, sucked in a breath.
Wesley sprang up, knocking his chair backwards. No one noticed as it hit the ground. "Good heavens, is everyone all right?"
Gunn let out a pained breath, slowly shaking his head. "Fred's dead."
***
The air was thick. The day was hot and humid and every breath that Buffy took was reeked in pollution and smog. She wanted to run. Run, run, run and never stop until the humidity stopped and drained her. Drained her until she couldn't feel anything at all. Because she was in so much pain, so much internal battle, that she would have given anything to stop it.
Dawn gripped her hand, weak from blood loss, sick from the scene at the hospital. Buffy half carried, half dragged her to the Hyperion. Once there, Dawn ran to the bathroom and Buffy winced as she heard her sister dry heave into the toilet.
Buffy almost wished that she could do that. Puke and puke until there was nothing left. Nothing but a shell, devoid of feeling and pain.
Cordelia rushed out to meet the slayer, tears streaming down her cheeks, a stake gripped in a shaking hand. Buffy reached out her arms and the two embraced. When they pulled away, Cordelia took Buffy's arm and led her to the kitchen. The others were there, Wesley and Gunn sitting at the table, weapons strewn about it. Ethan Rayne was tied to the refrigerator and the door kept opening and banging shut as he struggled to free himself.
Dawn came rushing in a moment later, face drawn and pale. Buffy offered her hand, but Dawn ignored and went and sat next to Gunn. The African American put a strong arm on Dawn's shoulder, a silent promise to keep her safe. Slightly hurt, Buffy moved to the other side of the kitchen, pacing relentlessly and not sure what to say.
For the first time, her heart swelled because she missed Wills and Xand and Giles. She missed Anya and Tara. At least then she knew where she stood. But these were *Angel's* friends. The ones that he would give up his life to protect. It wasn't that she wouldn't do the same, they all mattered to her. But she was only the boss' girlfriend and she knew that she couldn't know what they were feeling.
She had turned Angel evil. And he had killed Fred. Right in front of her nose.
She finally stopped her pacing, turning to look at the team. They were all sitting at the table now, faces drawn and worn. Worried frowns of grief masked their faces. They huddled together, accepting the warmth and comfort of each other. And Buffy was left on the other side of the room, somehow supposed to know how to lead them, how to get Angel back to them.
She took a deep breath. "We need to be somewhere where Angel doesn't have an all access pass. Right now, we're sitting ducks. This place was made for a vampire and we're not safe during the day and especially not at night."
Cordy looked up at her tiredly. "Buffy, we just lost Fred. Can't we… take a day or something?" her eyes filled with pained tears. "Can't you just let us grieve? For one minute?"
Buffy's voice was as cold as ice. "Last time that I gave us a minute, Fred died. I will not let that happen again. Angel's cold, he's calculating, and he wants to kill you. So shut up and do what I say."
Cordelia shut up. Buffy refused to feel guilty for the flash of pain she saw flit across the seer's face.
Wesley gave Buffy a calculating stare, but merely said, "Angel's been invited into all of our dwellings."
She nodded. "Okay, I figured as much." She looked at Gunn, "What do we have for weapons?"
He waved a hand at the armory on the table. "Stakes, knifes, swords…"
Buffy chewed her lip thoughtfully. "No one goes anywhere alone. Ever. If you go to the bathroom, bring someone with you. If you want to go sulk, bring someone with you. I will not lose anyone else. Divide up the weapons, I want everyone to have at least one stake." Closing her eyes, she fought off a wave of dizziness. She was so tired of this routine. So tired of losing people she loved and fighting for those who were still alive. "Gunn," she walked up to him, placed a hand on his arm, "take care of Dawn. I don't… I don't know what'll happen to me. Promise me you'll look out for her."
He stared at her solemnly and nodded. "I won't let anything happen to her."
"Good." She walked up to Ethan Rayne and glared at him. "What have you got?"
"Well, uh…"
"Can you keep Angel out of this hotel?"
"Doubtful."
She stared at him. "Fine." Still looking him in the eye, she said, "Wes, do what you can to keep Angel out of here."
She heard rustling and knew that he and Cordelia had left the room. "You don't have enough power to give Angel's soul back, do you?" she hissed belligerently.
He looked mildly amused. "I don't fancy getting killed by Angelus anymore than you do."
"You can't even put up a vampire shield around this hotel. You're nothing, Rayne(,)" she spat. "Because of you, my lover is running around out there *killing* everyone that he loves. And you *DARE* lie to me."
Ethan almost looked a little miffed. "May I remind you that *you* were the one that brought Angelus out to begin with, you spoiled little child."
Furious, Buffy brought her hand back and punched him. His head snapped back against the fridge and then dropped forward. Buffy stood, breathing hard. She could hear Cordy gasp behind her and knew that she and Wes had come back into the kitchen.
"Oh my god," she whispered, "you killed him."
She shook her head, "No…" she protested weakly, feeling the ground roll beneath her.
"We'll never get Angel back now!" Cordelia cried, a sharp whine in her voice.
It was Dawn who finally stood up and shoved Buffy out of the way. With trembling fingers, she felt Ethan Rayne's pulse. She let out a deep breath. "He's still alive."
Buffy grabbed the counter, fought to stand up. She was the slayer. She was strong. "Okay," she managed, "okay… good." Woozily she stood on her own and shook her head. "But it doesn't matter," she muttered under her breath, "it doesn't matter."
No one moved towards her. Buffy thought she might cry. Or scream. They were all afraid of her. All afraid that the crazy slayer might finally lose it and hit them like she did Ethan.
"What doesn't matter?" Gunn finally questioned.
"Rayne…" Buffy could still feel the world reeling around her. She was going to go to bed. She hadn't slept in two days. And they'd been such hard days. "I'm going to kill him," she declared, "I'm going to kill him before he can hurt more anymore people."
Turning, Buffy ran from the room. She didn't stop until she reached the bedroom and she and Angel shared. Lying down, she pressed her face into his pillow. Breathed in his scent. She closed her eyes and let it all go away, just for a while. Just for a little while.
***
Cordelia let out a tear strained breath. "What… what was that?"
"I kind of got the idea that Buffy was going to kill Angel," Gunn volunteered. "At least one of us is thinking straight," he added as an afterthought.
Cordelia could only stare at him with a horrified expression. "But… she *can't*! She can't just do that! We were going to curse him again!"
Wesley stared thoughtfully at the door that Buffy had just exited. "I believe that Buffy isn't thinking clearly."
"Gee, Wes, where could you have gotten that idea?" Cordelia snapped.
He glared at her. "Do try, for once, to have a little sympathy for someone else. Buffy is extremely sensitive at the moment—"
"You don't think I'm sensitive at the moment?" Cordelia shouted angrily. "I just lost two friends in one day!"
"Hey, now, that's not fair," Gunn argued, jumping into the heated argument, "you're not the only one that's lost someone."
"What do you care?" Cordelia cried snidely,
"You're the one who wants to KILL Angel!"
"No one else seems to realize that running around and crying won't do anything!" Gunn yelled, "Angel let out his demon counterpart and I'm not going to sit by and wait for him to kill us."
"In case you've forgotten, getting Angel's soul back is much more beneficial to our cause then leaving him evil is."
"Hey, English, all I'm saying is that while we're in here crying and feeling sorry for ourselves, Angel's out there on a killing spree."
"I can't believe this!" Cordelia hissed. "Don't you people have any feelings? I *need* Angel back."
"And it doesn't matter who dies in the process," Gunn said.
She glared at him. "That's not true."
"Isn't it?"
Wesley looked at Gunn. "And you're so full of kindness. Volunteering to go out and put Angel down without regard to any of the possible consequences."
He put out his hands. "Hey, at least I'm the only one not sitting in a corner feeling sorry for myself."
"You don't know what you're talking about!"
"I obviously know more than any of you do."
"Well, do argue over this while Angel is out there planning on murdering us all!"
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"
Cordelia, Gunn, and Wesley lapsed into sudden silence, eyes landing upon Dawn. She was standing with her hands over her ears, body trembling. "Don't fight…" she whispered, "please… don't do this…"
Guilty, they exchanged eye contact. Wesley sighed. "Quite right, I'm sorry Dawn."
Gunn and Cordelia nodded. "This isn't going to get us anywhere," Cordelia acquiesced.
Dawn nodded, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. Sitting down heavily, she pursed her lips. "Someone should go up and sit with Buffy."
Cordelia snorted. "Like anyone would want to go up and spend time with insane slayer girl."
Dawn shot her a look. "She's the one who made us promise not to go anywhere alone."
"I'm worried about her," Gunn said, voice
taking on a softer tone. "She doesn't know how to be strong anymore."
Cordelia looked at the ground, "Should we let her kill him?" she asked in a meek voice.
Wesley looked at Ethan, who was beginning to moan and stir. He shook his head. "I don't think, in Buffy's state of mind, that she would have any chance of winning a fight against Angel. Even if, somehow, we managed to overtake him and kill him, she might never recover."
"The only person that can help her…" Cordelia trailed off, looking sad.
"Is Angel," Gunn finished tiredly, with no small amount of jealousy.
Wesley nodded gravely.
"Fine, we'll try to return Angel's soul," Gunn agreed reluctantly, " but if that doesn't work… I'm going to kill him."
"I'll see what I can do to set up a barrier around the hotel," Wesley decided.
Cordelia groaned. "And I'll go… find Buffy."
TBC
