Another night, another motel, another throbbing headache from so much
driving. Willow glared balefully at the Motor Lodge sign in front of her
and almost stomped around the van. "We're here," she called out as she
knocked.
The doors opened, and she saw her foul mood mirrored in the others' eyes. Promised an argument of some sort, maybe even a spot of violence, as Angel's tight features didn't lean towards him diffusing any situation that came up. She should have gotten two rooms. Another display of vampire dominance/sexual tension games had not been on her agenda. Though it *had* been much more interesting to see the real thing than it had been to read about it in the dry Watcher's journals.
Sighing, Willow removed the salve and a small talisman she'd fashioned the previous night, after she'd woken from her coma-like sleep, from her trunk and tucked both into the pocket of her jacket. A cooler and her suitcase in hand, Willow told the vampires their room number and then started ahead.
Behind her, she heard Drusilla laughing, the quiet rumble of Spike's deep voice that Willow had come to associate with him being around Drusilla, and Angel, all droll indulgence, telling them to make themselves useful.
And herself, now twenty feet away and more than a world removed from the group behind her. She supposed it was some kind of justice, this, because wasn't this how Spike and Angel had felt in Sunnydale when they'd been surrounded by Scoobies? Though, Spike being Spike, he had taken refuge in anger, which Willow didn't have it in her to do. And Angel had felt he'd deserved being left out. She just felt.lonely. Scared, too. And who did she have to share this with? No one.
She let herself into the motel room, dropped the cooler on a bed, and went directly into the bathroom with her suitcase. She needed a shower, had needed one since her mojo on Dev the previous night, which had covered her in a cloying sheen of sweat.
Stepping under the spray of hot water, Willow tried her best to wash away her fear, her loneliness, her weariness and the blasted headache. They were due for a break. They had to be. Surely the Powers wouldn't have warned Willow and the others just so that they could circle the country in a van that was actually getting pretty rank? Okay, yeah, so as she'd reminded Angel, they couldn't make it *too* easy. She understood that. But, still, this was getting ridiculous. Willow wasn't even sure how long ago they'd left Los Angeles. Two weeks? Three months? A year?
Noise from the other room. The vampires settling in. Maybe she should stay in here a while longer, let them bond and stuff. Or maybe not, she decided as the hot water went down a notch. Hurrying, Willow washed herself and her hair, but didn't beat the retreat of the hot water entirely. She was a bit blue around the edges when she stepped out of the shower stall and wrapped herself in several towels.
She dried herself off and pulled on some clean clothes, a navy blue cashmere sweater and roomy khakis, glad that she'd stopped at a Laundromat two days ago. The cash situation hadn't exactly leant towards her purchasing new clothes. That had her frowning as she pulled her sweater over her head. She'd seen the bills in Angel's wallet dwindling thanks to the motel rooms, her food, and gasoline. Call her crazy, but she really doubted that either he or Spike had money tucked away in other names. Drusilla definitely didn't. More to think on. Just what she needed.
Willow twisted a towel into her hair and padded out of the bathroom on bare feet, wondering how to tactfully suggest that the vampires make use of the shower themselves. She knew they didn't sweat, or anything like that, but it was kind of icky that they hadn't showered more than once each, and only changed their clothes if they became soiled or ripped. She knew Spike had better hygiene habits that than. Angel as well. It was probably because of the situation. Seemed like there wasn't time for many of the small things.
The tension in the room was heavy and made it difficult for Willow to breathe. Studying the three vampires, who were in various states of motion that was obviously for the sake of movement alone, Willow came to a decision and slipped her sneakers on her feet.
"I'm going to the office to arrange another room. Um, far away," she added, not wanting a repeat of the whole Angel's apartment thing.
"What? Why?" Spike snapped. "Not as tough as you think?"
"It's not for me," she snapped back. "*I* am going to stay here with Dev. You three." She motioned at them. "Are going to the other room to do.whatever it is you need to do. Because, we're all strung too tightly as it is, and this.whatever it is, is making it worse."
"Never thought I'd see the day," Spike drawled, that vicious smirk on his lips, "that Little Miss Willow sent three vampires off to--how did you put it? Make the beast with three backs and--OW! Bleedin' hell!"
Willow glared at him and sent the lamp back to the end table while he clutched the side of his head and snarled at her. "Shut up, Spike," she demanded. "This is exactly why I'm doing it."
"Willow, we're not going to stay somewhere else," Angel told her firmly, moving to stand in front of her.
"Oh, yes you are, because you're certainly not going to do.that in this room while I'm here," Willow said, a little panicked. "I mean it. That's, um, so not going to happen."
Angel rolled his eyes. "We're not going to be doing anything anywhere. I don't know what exactly you think is going on, but--"
"I *know* exactly what's going on," she said patiently.
He looked away, his shoulders hunching forward, and Willow berated herself for not handling this right. But, really, it wasn't something she did every day.
Willow reached up and put her hands on Angel's shoulders. "I'm not judging," she assured him. "As far as I'm concerned, this isn't real life, any of this. Whatever happens is just.what happens. So, I'm not going to be staring at you in disapproval, or telling anyone about it." She shook her head sadly. "This isn't real, and if you--all of you--can take advantage of that and get something you've been.missing, then go ahead."
Angel's eyes darkened so much that she couldn't distinguish iris from pupil, and he shook his head, like he was in shock. Willow felt a presence behind her, and looked over her shoulder to see Drusilla hovering. Her arms curled around Willow's waist and she pressed a kiss on her hair.
"Precious," Drusilla whispered in her ear. "Such wisdom you have to know that it is but a dream even though we are awake."
She drifted away, and Willow felt strangely bereft, purposeless, as she stood there with her hands on Angel's shoulders. His hands settled on hers, lowering them and tightening briefly. A frown pulled his brows together, and Willow recognized it. "Don't even think of apologizing. Seriously."
Angel's lips quirked into a small smile. "Fine, I won't say I'm sorry that you get left alone here."
Willow laughed and pulled her hands out of his, lightly slapping his chest. "Such an Angel thing to do. All I ask is that you three shower. Small compensation." She wiggled her fingers in a 'gimme' motion. "Now, hand over the cash."
Angel shook his head. "Stay put. I'll take care of it. You look like you could use another round of rest."
"Yeah." Willow took the towel from her head and tossed it in the general direction of the bathroom; it was making her headache worse. "But we need to feed Dev first."
"We'll take care of it after I get the other room." He paused. "You shouldn't help."
Willow waved his concern away. Spike snorted. "Oh, please," he drawled sarcastically. "Don't be coy. You just want to fall into my arms again, right?"
There was something familiar about those words that made Willow frown. "Um, I'll be fine," she answered absently, pulling the talisman from her pocket. "This will keep me from getting drained like I did last night."
"Dabbling with the dark arts, are you?" Spike asked, his voice hard.
"Not. It'll just help me focus the energy better. The reason I collapsed," Willow explained, "was because I couldn't direct it only at Dev. It was all around the room, and I had to concentrate on moving just Dev and not everything that wasn't bolted to the floor."
"Don't push yourself past your limits," Angel warned. "I mean it, Willow."
"I won't. I promise."
With that, he left to arrange the other room. Willow kicked her sneakers off again and threw herself on the bed. A cold hand pressed against her forehead. Drusilla. Willow groaned when the vampire's fingers massaged her temples.
"Look at me," Drusilla sang, and Willow tensed.
Spike's voice cracked through the room. "Dru. What did we tell you?"
"Hush, luv," Drusilla called out. "Just taking the pain away. Her head is tight, like a spring. Look at me, precious."
Willow glanced at Spike, who was staring at Drusilla with narrowed eyes. "It's okay, Red."
Steeling herself, Willow met Drusilla's eyes. And fell, for what seemed like forever, before she landed softly and found herself lying on the bed looking at Drusilla. Her head was pain free.
"Thank you," Willow said gratefully.
Angel returned then, and Willow sat up on the bed as they filled the copper bowl with their blood. When they were ready, she tossed the salve at Angel and held the talisman with both hands. True to her word, Willow was no worse for the wear when they'd finished.
"We're in room 152," Angel told her. "Get some sleep while we're gone?"
"I will."
After they'd left, Willow lifted the phone and requested a wake up call in an hour and a half. She turned off all the lights in the room except the one next to Dev's bed, then laid down next unconscious vampire. The bed was roomy enough that Willow wouldn't have to worry about jarring Dev.
As she cuddled beneath a blanket, she realized that Drusilla hadn't just made her head feel better; every muscle in her body was looser than it had been in days. Sighing, she drifted off to sleep.
***
Later, down the hall, Angel and Spike bolted into sitting positions on the bed when the phone rang in the motel room. It was on Spike's side, and he glared at it for a moment before he grabbed the receiver and put it to his ear. He said nothing, then he heard Willow's voice and relaxed.
"Um, sorry if I'm--well, I mean--shoot, we need to leave in half an hour. Don't forget to shower."
The phone clicked as she hung up, and Spike chuckled as he set the receiver down. "Wake up call from Willow," he told Angel, who grinned.
"I keep thinking she can't surprise me again, and she does," Angel commented, sitting up, much to Drusilla's dismay. "We need to get moving, Dru."
"Like I said, you never did look beyond the Slayer," Spike replied, lighting a cigarette and stretching out.
He felt better than he had in days. Angel had made good on his promise, reminding both him and Dru that they'd voluntarily given him dominion over them. It had been good and right and just what the doctor had ordered for them all. He laughed at that thought. Doctor Willow, writing the 'scripts to make them all better.
"Said not to forget to shower," Spike remembered. "You and Dru go first. I want to smoke a bloody load of fags while I still can." Angel stilled, and Spike shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's different now, isn't it?" he said uncomfortably, looking away.
"Yeah, it is," Angel said quietly, then led Dru into the bathroom.
As they showered, Spike thought about how eerily Willow's earlier words had echoed his own thoughts on the situation they were in. Despite his dig at Angel, Spike *had* been knocked flat by her little speech. The Willow he'd taken to L.A..he would've thought nothing could make her accept Angel, Spike and Drusilla reestablishing their little family, even temporarily. But she had, and not because it was necessary, or because there was no way around it, but because she understood. Maybe not all of it, but enough.
Dru and Angel came out of the bathroom, and Spike crushed out his latest cigarette, strolling bare-assed passed them to take his own shower. The thing about Willow was, she had a soft heart. Spike could relate to that, even if his own didn't extend a great deal further than a chosen few. The only reason she'd come to terms with everything so far, and the Aureolus reunion in particular, was because she liked people to hurt as little as possible.
It was something that Spike had exploited in the past, knowing instinctively how to make it hurt a little more than she'd expected since he was experienced with being on the receiving end of it. He figured that just like Drusilla and Dev had come to appreciate his inability to say no to anything they wanted, they also coming to depend on Willow's fierce need to keep them in as good a place as possible, mentally.
***
The next night they stopped again even though the plan had been to keep going until the following evening. But Drusilla had been restless all day, unable to sit still, her mutterings more conspicuous than usual. Her troubled gaze had fallen on Dev rather often, and nothing Spike or Angel had done had calmed her down. They'd decided to stop when she began kicking at the walls in the van, and Angel had been the one to knock on the divider between the front and back, while Spike had physically restrained Drusilla so that her flailing limbs didn't catch Dev.
As soon as Willow had checked them in and brought the van around the back of the motel, Drusilla exploded out of the van, her head tilted back and her manic gaze on the stars. Unintelligible whispers tumbled from her lips and she rocked back and forth.
Willow eyed her with concern, but didn't approach her. Spike moved towards the upset vampire and she threw herself into his arms, sobbing hysterically.
"Go for a walk, luv?" he offered quietly, rubbing his forehead against her hair.
She shook her head. "Noooooo."
Spike didn't look up as he spoke to Angel. "Can you manage?"
"Yes, take her inside. Willow, give him the key."
Willow tossed the room key to him and Spike took Drusilla inside, sitting on the bed and pulling her into his lap. "What's bothering you, pet?" he cooed. "Why are you so upset?"
She just sobbed harder, clutching at him with a grip so hard he could feel the bruises forming. "Noooooo," she mewled again.
Angel came in, Dev tucked in his arms. Willow was right behind him, her suitcase in one hand, the plastic sheet in the other. She made quick work of getting the other bed ready for Dev, and Angel set the vampire down gently. "I'll get the cooler," Willow mumbled, looking troubled.
"No, she's running!" Drusilla screamed, fighting her way out of Spike's arms.
Willow spun around, her eyes wide.
***
There was no time to think, no time to do anything but what she needed to do. Willow ignored Drusilla's distress, knowing that she needed to get the information they so desperately required.
"Where is she?" Willow asked Dru calmly.
"Nowhere," Drusilla cried out, tumbling to her knees. Willow joined her on the floor staying out of arm's reach.
"What do you see, Dru?" Willow pushed, closing her eyes so and making her mind a blank canvas for the words Drusilla would be painting.
"I see my Dev running and getting nowhere. She's in pain.so much pain in her tiny body. It hurts me."
She heard noises from Angel and Spike, but didn't acknowledge them. "Where is she running to?" Willow asked quietly.
"To the tree," Drusilla choked. "It droops and sags, but it's stronger than the tallest tree. Red.such red leaves.and inside it, the tingle, the power."
Willow picture Dev in a hallway, the tree at the end of it. "Is Dev at the tree yet?"
"Yes, but she's so weak.she's been running for so long. But she feels safe there," Dru added with childlike trust.
The certainty of that statement stopped Willow momentarily. "How do you know she feels safe there, Dru?"
"Because my Devil doesn't look scared, that's why. If the tree wasn't there, she'd be frightened, I can see that in her eyes."
"What is your Devil doing?"
Drusilla whimpered suddenly. "She's talking...but I can't hear her. I don't know what she's telling me. I don't know how I'm supposed to help her." A keening sound emanated from the other woman, and Willow winced.
"Dru," Willow said sternly. "What else is she doing? Is she moving?"
"Yes, yes she is!" Drusilla answered triumphantly. "She's pointing at something."
"What is she pointing at?" Willow pushed, the image in her mind changing to match what Drusilla was describing.
"I don't know."
Willow paused, and gathered her thoughts. "Look at what she's pointing at, Drusilla," she suggested gently.
"Don't want to look away from my Devil," Drusilla said petulantly. "Something bad might happen if I do."
"You said that Dev feels safe with under the tree," Willow reminded her. "Look where she's pointing."
"I--I--I'm not sure if I should," Drusilla stammered haltingly.
"She needs you to look, Dru," Willow said patiently. "She might die if you don't look." Dru was silent. "Do you want to help your Devil?"
"Oh, very much," Dru said passionately.
"Then you have to look."
"All right," Dru said smally. A pause. "Words, I think, but I can't read them. I don't know the words," she wailed fretfully.
"It's okay, Dru," Willow comforted. "Can you copy them onto paper?"
"Yes."
"Spike is going to get you paper, and something to write with. You need to copy them perfectly," Willow said somberly.
"I will."
She heard movement, then the sound of a pen scratching against paper, as well as Drusilla's humming.
"There. All done. They are very pretty words, even if I don't know what they mean," Drusilla said thoughtfully.
"You did very well, Dru," Willow praised. "Now you need to look at your Devil again. Can you do that?"
"Oh, yes. She's smiling!" Drusilla giggled happily. Then she abruptly gasped, and whimpered. "Nonononono. Scared. Terrified. Hurt. Pain. Nonononono."
"Drusilla!" Willow's voice was like a whip, cutting remorselessly into Drusilla's ramblings. "Why is Dev scared?"
"Don't know," she keened.
"What is she doing?"
"Staring at the sky, terror in her eye. Staring at the sky, terror in her eye. Staring at the sky, terror in her eye."
"Look up, Drusilla!" Willow ordered her harshly. "Lift your head and see what is making her scared."
"Nnnnnn," Drusilla wailed. "There are eyes. Red, glowing, hateful eyes. They want to hurt my Devil, but they can't see her through the branches. It's protecting her, but it's getting weaker. The branches are breaking, and soon the eyes will be able to get my Devil. The eyes that think themselves the fingers of God. The eyes that want to know her secrets and lies. The eyes that want to twist her up and rip her apart."
Willow's heart clenched, but she ignored it. "Are the eyes in the sky, Drusilla?"
"Yes," Dru sobbed.
"Look around. Are they alone?"
"Yes."
"Okay," Willow acknowledge, and took a breath. "Look back down at your Devil."
A swift intake of unneeded breath. "She's moving from under the tree, walking a little bit away. My Devil is dressed in branches, and she blends in with the tree. She's smiling, and she doesn't hurt. The eyes, they don't know. They're attacking the tree, and it is going to die soon, but not really."
"The tree will die?" Willow repeated brokenly.
"I'd like to go for a walk."
***
Spike closed the motel door behind him, carrying the receiver for the baby monitor Willow had gotten in Los Angeles, and which hadn't been used since then. The back doors of the van were open, and Willow sat between them, her legs dangling several inches from the ground.
He approached her slowly and sat carefully next to her.
"Angel's probably kicking himself six ways from Sunday," she said suddenly, staring down at her hands.
That was putting it lightly. The look on Angel's eyes when he'd left with Dru.
"Hm, I 'spose," Spike said slowly.
Willow shrugged and hopped out of the van. "I think I should be worried-- really worried. Probably scared, too," she commented idly, facing him. "But I'm not. Know why?"
Spike watched her hands disappear into the sleeves of her blue sweater. She seemed so calm, so blank. "It's the whole 'not really' thing. Leaves a lot left unsaid," he offered. "Not that Dru's visions are faultless to begin with."
One arm wrapped itself around her waist, and her other hand, still encased in that soft blue material, rubbed against her cheek. "Will Dru be okay?"
"Yes," Spike laughed, tilting his head back in absolute disbelief at this chit, with the softest heart and thinnest skin he'd every come across. "Dru will be bloody peachy, Red, and I'm sure you'll wrack your brains and come up with some soddin' brilliant way of making Angel feel all right about it all." He lowered his head and glared at her. "You'll figure out what to do about Dev, too, 'cause this is you we're talking about, ain't it?"
Spike slipped from the van, stalked towards her and grabbed her chin. "Meanwhile, where does all that leave you?"
She frowned, confused. "What? Do you mean--oh, right." She nodded her head and patted his hand with a blue covered fist. "I'll still suck it up. Don't worry about that."
"Haven't you realized yet that you should tell me to sod off when I say shite like that?" he practically shouted. "Bloody everyone else has. But no, not you. Can't be the damnable martyr then, is that it?"
She shoved past him with, dislodging his hand from her chin, and walked away. Fuck that. Spike wrapped his hand around her arm and spun her around. "Hit a little to close to home, St. Willow?" he jeered.
He saw her face whiten, and knew he should stop, should let her go and drop the subject. But he just couldn't, and damned if he knew why.
"You think that a few months of being around me means that you *know* me?" Willow hissed furiously.
"It does," he bit out, grinning maliciously, "because as much as your parents may have told you you're special, you're just like a million other people out there, and I know people." He jerked her closer, until her body was flush with his, stared down at her with disgust, then released her so abruptly that she stumbled back.
"Congratulations," she told him coldly, her back ridged and ramrod straight.
"On which part?" he retorted almost pleasantly, but he could feel the curl of his lip, knew that brow of his was lifted disdainfully. "Sticking the knife in?" He made an appropriate stabbing motion with his hand. "Or twisting it just so?" His whole body undulated as he then followed it with a sharp twist. Lowering his hand, he shrugged. "Because, they're both noteworthy."
"Getting through to me," she countered distinctly. Spike frowned and she bared her teeth in a disturbing semblance of a smile before laughing harshly. "Buffy, Xander, Giles.none of them could. So, thank you, and remember not to break the doors, because there's no way we'll be able to get another van around here."
The doors? What the hell?
"Fuck!" Spike screamed as he landed painfully in the back of the van. He scurried to his feet but the doors slammed shut and locked. He heard Willow's voice, one last time.
"Truce is over."
***
Willow ran into the motel room and slammed the door shut, muttering a quick apology to Dev. She was shaking. Oh, and she was crying. Damn it, no. She refused to cry. Hell, she wasn't stopping.
She couldn't believe that she'd let him get to her like that. Falling onto the bed, she shook her head. That wasn't true. She knew full well why he'd gotten to her. It was because he was right. She *did* tend to martyr herself, and she *had* jumped on the "suck it up" train a little too eagerly, and with more gung-ho than necessary.
He was also wrong, though; it wasn't something she did to make herself seem better than anyone else. It just seemed to be how she often found herself. Well, except for this time. This time she'd consciously made the decision to focus on everyone else, because she needed the distraction to make things easier to handle, to keep herself from driving the van into a wall at sixty miles an hour just so it would be over, because there was no end in sight. Which was damned funny, because nothing had even *happened* yet. But maybe that's why she was so desperate, because it was bad enough now that she didn't want to contemplate how much worse it might get.
Why had Spike felt the need to tear into her like that? Ah, but she knew the answer to that, didn't she? Yes, she did. The fool was just as scared as the rest of them, but God forbid he just admit it. Oh, heavens no. Jerk. And he wasn't likely to get any better, after what Willow had just done. Willow tore her hands through her hair and sighed heavily. She had seriously pissed him off, and the repercussions weren't going to be pretty. The only recourse she had to keep from getting drawn in again was to just fall back on ignoring him as best she could.
The motel door opened, and she lifted her head to see Angel and Drusilla enter the room. The heavy cloak of guilt in Angel's eyes lifted slightly when he looked around the room. "Where's Spike?"
"I locked him in the van. Hopefully I threw him hard enough to knock him out," Willow said spitefully.
"What did he do?" Angel growled, fists clenching at his side.
She had about as much energy for another testosterone showdown as she did for a round of easing Angel's guilt, so she waved it away. "Nothing, really," she said honestly. "Just.hit a sore spot. Can we get moving again?"
***
In the van, Spike nursed the back of his head, which had bounced off the metal floor when Willow had sent him hurtling inside. Damn her, damn him, damn it all.
He would have called it a miscalculation on his part, except that implied he'd had a goal in mind. Which he decidedly hadn't. No, he'd just lashed out in his typical fashion. Bloody lovely. Angel was going to beat the shit out of him. And for what? Why had he gotten so angry? Generally, he didn't bother himself with whatever self-destructive behavior anyone chose to partake of.
Through the monitor, he heard a door slam, some mumbling, and then sniffling. Aw hell, the chit was crying now. Even if he survived Angel, the Slayer was going to make him wish he hadn't. Shit.
He slammed his fist against the side of the van. He should have just left her alone, no matter that if she kept it up, she was going to walk away from this a shell of what she was.
Spike sat up, eyes wide. Hell. Bloody *fucking* hell. Drusilla's vision had ramifications beyond the obvious. Willow was putting her life on the line for one of them, and that made Willow herself one of them. He ran a weary hand over his face. That's what had happened out there. His bloody subconscious had just registered it before him; they all had a duty to Willow now, a duty to do for her and give to her everything that they did and gave to each other.
Drusilla had realized it already. Spike had assumed that her pet name for Willow, and her flashes of protectiveness, had spawned from Dev's magic. Or the bonding the women had done after Willow had finally seen Dev. Completely wrong, that. Drusilla had already reclassified Willow.
Spike grinned then; considering this new turn in events, he'd been completely justified tonight. Of course, Angel hadn't realized it yet and who knew how many punches Spike was going to have to take before he listened. More than a few, he guessed. Eh, he could take a few.
More voices through the monitor. Angel and Dru were back. Spike listened to Willow tell Angel what she'd done. "My head is harder than that, Red," he drawled, smiling at her 'umph'.
Willow asked Angel if they could leave, and he agreed. There was a pause and then he continued with, "Willow, about what Dru said. If I'd known, I would never have gotten you involved. I mean that."
Even with the crappy reception, Spike could hear the weight to those words, the metric ton of guilt that had been ladled on, and he frowned. It wasn't entirely Willow's fault that she pushed herself aside; those around her tended to manipulate her, most of the time unwittingly, into a position where that cotton heart of hers had no choice but to take over.
"It's not your fault and you have nothing to make up to me, so drop it," Spike heard Willow say flatly. "I'll be in the van."
A slow grin crept across his features. "Good girl. May be hope for you yet. Let's just hope the sire-figure gets it through his head, too."
***
Willow avoided Spike the next night. Skillfully. Wherever he was, she found a way to be someplace else. Which was harder than it sounded when they were occupying one room. It irked Spike to no end and consequently he'd done his best to force her to acknowledge him. She'd showered, then said she was going to the restaurant attached to the motel for some food. Spike had tried to follow her, but she'd changed direction at the last moment and taken off in the van.
When she'd returned half an hour later, it had been time for him and Angel to do another blood run. He'd tried to beg off, but Angel was having none of that. He'd curled his lip at Spike and told him to hurry the hell up.
It took five minutes of dodging punches and wresting himself from Angel's grip before Spike finally got the other vampire to stop hitting and start listening.
"Hey," he shouted at Angel, ducking out of the way of a punch. "Turn those fists on yourself, since you're the one in the wrong."
Angel lowered his raised fist and stared at Spike incredulously. "What? I haven't done anything to Willow."
Spike snorted and wiped blood from his face with the back of his hand. "Exactly."
"What are you talking about?" Angel asked haltingly, confusion etched on his features.
Spike moved forward and stared Angel down. "You don't get the benefits without paying the dues," Spike said clearly. "You're the one who taught me that." Then he stepped back and watched in satisfaction as Angel finally understood.
Angel ran his hand across the back of his neck and sighed. "I forgot," he said flatly. "I forgot."
"Yeah, you did," Spike agreed, lighting a cigarette. "To be expected. It's been how long since you last did this? Let's not forget the fact that you've been fraternizing with the humans and getting used to their ways. Same as me," he tacked on when Angel shot him a look. "Didn't realize it until yesterday. Dru, on the other hand, she's known a while."
Angel shook his head. "She's more sensitive to these things. Damn."
"Will's ours," Spike said plainly, cutting through the rest of the shit. "And you've got to deal with it, because in the ten minutes we were all in the motel, I saw you shoot eight, maybe nine of those patented looks at her." Spike raised a brow and Angel looked away.
"She's got a marshmallow for a heart," Spike went on. "Every time she has to comfort you is one more time that she neglects herself, and you know better than anyone what that leads to."
Angel narrowed his eyes on him consideringly. "I take it you flung that truth home to her last night in your usual cruel fashion?" he said icily, and Spike squirmed just a bit, pretty much confirming it. "Am I supposed to believe it was for her own good instead of just lashing out at a convenient target?"
Spike snorted and rolled his eyes. "Of course," he said smugly.
Since the end had justified the means Angel couldn't technically punish Spike even if he believed that Spike's intentions hadn't been honorable. By the look he was getting, Spike was damn sure that Angel knew the truth of the matter, and understood the gray area.
They didn't speak much for the rest of the run, and when they got back to the motel, only Drusilla and Dev were there. Drusilla told them Willow had gone outside, and when they hurried into the parking lot, they saw her silhouetted in the front seat of the van, her face lit by the glow from her laptop screen.
Spike took a step towards her, ready to storm the bloody vehicle, but Angel flung an arm across his chest. "Don't push her," he said quietly. "Now that I know what you hit her with, I think she's got some thinking to do. "
Which made sense, but didn't do a damned thing for Spike.
"You've been trying to get in her face all night," Angel stated. "Why?"
"I already told you," Spike equivocated, turning away. "We have a responsibility to her now."
Angel put a hand on the back of Spike's neck and tugged him close. His forehead came to rest on Spike's and he smiled. "Don't lie to me, Spike," he said in that velvet voice of his. "That's not all of it. Tell me why."
Spike closed his eyes and swayed forward, saying nothing.
"Spike."
There was a bit of bite to the word that had Spike shivering and pressing closer. "I don't hate her," he admitted reluctantly.
Angel shifted, moving Spike's head to the crook of his neck. "Wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Yes."
A throaty chuckle. "Doesn't make you weak, you know." Spike grunted and tensed, but Angel pulled him closer. "Relax. I'm not Angelus, Spike, but that doesn't mean I'm going to try to corrupt you to the good side. I missed *you*, not something you think I might try to turn you into."
Angel pulled back and framed Spike's face with his hands, face sober. "Pay attention. That thing you have, that ability to actually give a damn?" Angel shook his head and tightened his grip on Spike's face. "It's not weakness, no matter what Drusilla might have said in a fit of fury."
And then he did try to pull away, but Angel wouldn't let him go. "Using the truth against someone is one of the best ways to hurt a person, but it's not the only one," Angel said firmly. "Preying on someone's own insecurity is another."
Yes, he knew that. Hadn't he pulled that on the Scoobies during that Adam debacle?
"Did Angelus tolerate weakness?"
"No," Spike snapped.
Angel raised a brow.
"Think that's a convincing argument?" Spike parried, once again trying to pull away. This time Angel let him. "Maybe the soul's distorted your view of things, but not mine. I remember every jab he took."
"Not because he thought it was weak of you to care about Drusilla," Angel shot back, "but because he knew that your doubt would give someone an opening on you, and he didn't want that. You damn well know it."
Spike *had* known and believed that. Until that wanker, that pale imitation of Angelus with the hard-on for getting revenge on the Slayer, had shown up in Sunnydale. Since then, Spike had found it difficult to look back and not second-guess everything, to not wonder if maybe the wanker hadn't just finally done and said what Angelus had always wanted to.
"The last thing I was going for was a therapy session," Angel said ruefully, laughing.
Spike laughed as well. "What brought that on, anyway?"
Angel grinned. "Same thing that always brought it on. Stop trying to get me to 'express my feelings'." He smirked, and Spike lifted a brow, waiting. "That's your department. 'I don't hate her'," he mocked, his voice trembling and kind of squishy.
"Oh, sod off," Spike growled, but he had to fight back a smile when Angel kept at it as they made their way back to the room.
It was complicated and simple at the same time. Back in the Los Angeles, he'd warned Angel against reprising Angelus' role in every way. Then he'd gone ahead and given him tacit permission to do so by sitting on the floor. To add fuel to the fire, Spike had reminded Angel of the duties that came along with the responsibility. Still, he'd expected Angel to go only as far as dominance with him and Drusilla, applying the rest to Willow. He hadn't even considered that Angel might start acting like the patriarch Angelus had been.
If it had happened before Spike had come to understand the whole reality- vacation deal, he would have balked. But he knew that this was just a slip of non-time, and he planned on taking advantage of it.
***
In the van, Willow rolled up the window and watched with wide eyes as the vampires retreated. That had been Angel, not Angelus, which totally blew her mind. And Spike.she'd never imagined him seeking reassurance, though she wasn't surprised at the backhanded manner in which he'd set about getting it. That had been typical Spike, that.
Okay, there'd been *nothing* in the Watcher journals about.familial ties. And that was what she'd just witnessed, she acknowledged. The head of a family both guiding and shoving another member passed self-imposed barriers. It was a revelation. She'd thought it had been about sex and authority, but now she knew that it was about more. It was about those wacky vampires from the Order of Aurelis, who broke every mould that had been used to make them.
It made sense, suddenly, why they had instilled fear in even their own species. One might say that they had each other's backs. An alien sentiment to most vampires, to be sure, and something that had made each of the individuals as strong as the whole.
It made Willow feel better about the whole situation. She wasn't being left in the dust for rutting and spanking--and, oh, bad mental image--but was witnessing a family come together again. She accepted that she *didn't* and *couldn't* have a place there, but it didn't leave her feeling lonely. Because families were their own unit, sure, but they also had friends.
The rest of what she'd overheard, that wasn't nearly as easy to understand. Had Spike actually admitted to liking her? As in, he wasn't going to take the first opportunity to rip her throat out? It boggled her mind, mostly because she couldn't reconcile that with what he'd done last night.
Then again, she was looking at it from her very human perspective, wasn't she? As she'd just seen, vampires didn't tend to go about things in the same manner. It was most certainly food for thought, just like the other things Spike had forced her to think about. Such as, was she actually harming herself in the long run by concentrating on everyone but herself? The simple answer to that was, yes. The hard part was deciding whether or not she cared to change it, and even harder was figuring out what to do instead if she did want to change it.
Either way, hiding in the van seemed kind of foolish all of a sudden. She looked at her watch and saw that there was still an hour before they would hit the road again. She closed the laptop and went back to the room.
***
Angel made a concerted effort to keep any guilt he was feeling off of his face when Willow came in. Much as it galled him to admit it, Spike had been completely and totally right about what was going on with her. If Angel thought about it, he could recall every instance that Willow had put aside her own feelings and needs for the rest of them since she'd gotten to L.A. Spike was right; Angel knew full well what that would mean for her down the road.
He could also admit that he hadn't seen it earlier because he'd been too selfish to look past what was developing between him, Spike and Dru. Then he'd become too caught up in them to remember the responsibility that came with the pretense.
"Gonna duck into the bathroom?" Spike sniped at Willow.
Angel hid a grin at the petulant tone in Spike's voice. Trust Spike to be so contrary. Finally got her in the same room, then acted like a child.
"Nope," Willow replied cheerfully.
Eyes wide, Angel tilted his head and took a good look at her. None of the tightness that had been present in her earlier was there anymore. None of the coldness, either. What exactly had gone on in that nimble mind of hers?
Spike shrugged and glared at her. "Well, we already took care of Dev, so we don't need you. Feel free to flee to the van again."
Angel had the overwhelming urge to smack Spike. Willow beat him to it, striding across the room to whack her hand across the back of his head. Must have been hard, too, because Spike slid off the edge of the bed and landed on his ass. Angel snickered, and Drusilla peered over the side of the other bed, laughing delightedly.
"You are such a jerk, Spike," Willow announced, hands on her hips. An unreadable expression passed over her face then she nodded her head and smiled. "Yep, total jerk."
The way she said it, it was like an affirmation.
"Hey!" Spike growled, indignation lowering his eyebrows. "I'm not taking too kindly to this new habit you have of assaulting me." His face settled into prissy lines, and he sniffed. "I feel pain, you know."
It clicked. All the little things Angel had picked up on that had at first made him think there was something going on between Spike and Willow, and the subsequent conflicts. They found comfort in the camaraderie they were both quick to deny existed between them and when it had fallen by the wayside due to the strain of the constant moving around, they'd both suffered for it. Hence the nasty altercations.
Angel looked over at them, bickering like kids, and understood it even further. It wasn't about them getting to a place where they were non- violent and non-arguing. It had nothing to do with them ignoring each other. Willow taking her power back was inconsequential. The vampires' duty to Willow only heightened it. Spike not hating Willow was irrelevant. And the camaraderie was just a side effect.
It was about that game Spike had told him about, the one with Spike and Willow on one team and everyone else on the other.
They were polar opposites. Glaringly obvious, yes, but what was less obvious was what exactly that meant for these particular people. These two, they tried so hard to be entirely one-sided, one-dimensional. They mostly succeeded, too. It was easy to ignore the seldom seen softer side of Spike and categorize him as evil. Because he was. It was just as easy to ignore the ramifications of Willow's vampire self and her more intense studies of witchcraft, and categorize her as wholesome and good. Because she was.
No one was that simple, especially not these two. Angel had never denied that about either of them individually, but he also had never considered both of them at the same time. Spike and Willow.they had the power to completely and utterly destroy each other and themselves without even trying. Just as they had the power to do the polar opposite.
It was a clear sign of just how far gone Angel was that he didn't know which option he preferred when he knew what would be involved in the latter.
***
The doors opened, and she saw her foul mood mirrored in the others' eyes. Promised an argument of some sort, maybe even a spot of violence, as Angel's tight features didn't lean towards him diffusing any situation that came up. She should have gotten two rooms. Another display of vampire dominance/sexual tension games had not been on her agenda. Though it *had* been much more interesting to see the real thing than it had been to read about it in the dry Watcher's journals.
Sighing, Willow removed the salve and a small talisman she'd fashioned the previous night, after she'd woken from her coma-like sleep, from her trunk and tucked both into the pocket of her jacket. A cooler and her suitcase in hand, Willow told the vampires their room number and then started ahead.
Behind her, she heard Drusilla laughing, the quiet rumble of Spike's deep voice that Willow had come to associate with him being around Drusilla, and Angel, all droll indulgence, telling them to make themselves useful.
And herself, now twenty feet away and more than a world removed from the group behind her. She supposed it was some kind of justice, this, because wasn't this how Spike and Angel had felt in Sunnydale when they'd been surrounded by Scoobies? Though, Spike being Spike, he had taken refuge in anger, which Willow didn't have it in her to do. And Angel had felt he'd deserved being left out. She just felt.lonely. Scared, too. And who did she have to share this with? No one.
She let herself into the motel room, dropped the cooler on a bed, and went directly into the bathroom with her suitcase. She needed a shower, had needed one since her mojo on Dev the previous night, which had covered her in a cloying sheen of sweat.
Stepping under the spray of hot water, Willow tried her best to wash away her fear, her loneliness, her weariness and the blasted headache. They were due for a break. They had to be. Surely the Powers wouldn't have warned Willow and the others just so that they could circle the country in a van that was actually getting pretty rank? Okay, yeah, so as she'd reminded Angel, they couldn't make it *too* easy. She understood that. But, still, this was getting ridiculous. Willow wasn't even sure how long ago they'd left Los Angeles. Two weeks? Three months? A year?
Noise from the other room. The vampires settling in. Maybe she should stay in here a while longer, let them bond and stuff. Or maybe not, she decided as the hot water went down a notch. Hurrying, Willow washed herself and her hair, but didn't beat the retreat of the hot water entirely. She was a bit blue around the edges when she stepped out of the shower stall and wrapped herself in several towels.
She dried herself off and pulled on some clean clothes, a navy blue cashmere sweater and roomy khakis, glad that she'd stopped at a Laundromat two days ago. The cash situation hadn't exactly leant towards her purchasing new clothes. That had her frowning as she pulled her sweater over her head. She'd seen the bills in Angel's wallet dwindling thanks to the motel rooms, her food, and gasoline. Call her crazy, but she really doubted that either he or Spike had money tucked away in other names. Drusilla definitely didn't. More to think on. Just what she needed.
Willow twisted a towel into her hair and padded out of the bathroom on bare feet, wondering how to tactfully suggest that the vampires make use of the shower themselves. She knew they didn't sweat, or anything like that, but it was kind of icky that they hadn't showered more than once each, and only changed their clothes if they became soiled or ripped. She knew Spike had better hygiene habits that than. Angel as well. It was probably because of the situation. Seemed like there wasn't time for many of the small things.
The tension in the room was heavy and made it difficult for Willow to breathe. Studying the three vampires, who were in various states of motion that was obviously for the sake of movement alone, Willow came to a decision and slipped her sneakers on her feet.
"I'm going to the office to arrange another room. Um, far away," she added, not wanting a repeat of the whole Angel's apartment thing.
"What? Why?" Spike snapped. "Not as tough as you think?"
"It's not for me," she snapped back. "*I* am going to stay here with Dev. You three." She motioned at them. "Are going to the other room to do.whatever it is you need to do. Because, we're all strung too tightly as it is, and this.whatever it is, is making it worse."
"Never thought I'd see the day," Spike drawled, that vicious smirk on his lips, "that Little Miss Willow sent three vampires off to--how did you put it? Make the beast with three backs and--OW! Bleedin' hell!"
Willow glared at him and sent the lamp back to the end table while he clutched the side of his head and snarled at her. "Shut up, Spike," she demanded. "This is exactly why I'm doing it."
"Willow, we're not going to stay somewhere else," Angel told her firmly, moving to stand in front of her.
"Oh, yes you are, because you're certainly not going to do.that in this room while I'm here," Willow said, a little panicked. "I mean it. That's, um, so not going to happen."
Angel rolled his eyes. "We're not going to be doing anything anywhere. I don't know what exactly you think is going on, but--"
"I *know* exactly what's going on," she said patiently.
He looked away, his shoulders hunching forward, and Willow berated herself for not handling this right. But, really, it wasn't something she did every day.
Willow reached up and put her hands on Angel's shoulders. "I'm not judging," she assured him. "As far as I'm concerned, this isn't real life, any of this. Whatever happens is just.what happens. So, I'm not going to be staring at you in disapproval, or telling anyone about it." She shook her head sadly. "This isn't real, and if you--all of you--can take advantage of that and get something you've been.missing, then go ahead."
Angel's eyes darkened so much that she couldn't distinguish iris from pupil, and he shook his head, like he was in shock. Willow felt a presence behind her, and looked over her shoulder to see Drusilla hovering. Her arms curled around Willow's waist and she pressed a kiss on her hair.
"Precious," Drusilla whispered in her ear. "Such wisdom you have to know that it is but a dream even though we are awake."
She drifted away, and Willow felt strangely bereft, purposeless, as she stood there with her hands on Angel's shoulders. His hands settled on hers, lowering them and tightening briefly. A frown pulled his brows together, and Willow recognized it. "Don't even think of apologizing. Seriously."
Angel's lips quirked into a small smile. "Fine, I won't say I'm sorry that you get left alone here."
Willow laughed and pulled her hands out of his, lightly slapping his chest. "Such an Angel thing to do. All I ask is that you three shower. Small compensation." She wiggled her fingers in a 'gimme' motion. "Now, hand over the cash."
Angel shook his head. "Stay put. I'll take care of it. You look like you could use another round of rest."
"Yeah." Willow took the towel from her head and tossed it in the general direction of the bathroom; it was making her headache worse. "But we need to feed Dev first."
"We'll take care of it after I get the other room." He paused. "You shouldn't help."
Willow waved his concern away. Spike snorted. "Oh, please," he drawled sarcastically. "Don't be coy. You just want to fall into my arms again, right?"
There was something familiar about those words that made Willow frown. "Um, I'll be fine," she answered absently, pulling the talisman from her pocket. "This will keep me from getting drained like I did last night."
"Dabbling with the dark arts, are you?" Spike asked, his voice hard.
"Not. It'll just help me focus the energy better. The reason I collapsed," Willow explained, "was because I couldn't direct it only at Dev. It was all around the room, and I had to concentrate on moving just Dev and not everything that wasn't bolted to the floor."
"Don't push yourself past your limits," Angel warned. "I mean it, Willow."
"I won't. I promise."
With that, he left to arrange the other room. Willow kicked her sneakers off again and threw herself on the bed. A cold hand pressed against her forehead. Drusilla. Willow groaned when the vampire's fingers massaged her temples.
"Look at me," Drusilla sang, and Willow tensed.
Spike's voice cracked through the room. "Dru. What did we tell you?"
"Hush, luv," Drusilla called out. "Just taking the pain away. Her head is tight, like a spring. Look at me, precious."
Willow glanced at Spike, who was staring at Drusilla with narrowed eyes. "It's okay, Red."
Steeling herself, Willow met Drusilla's eyes. And fell, for what seemed like forever, before she landed softly and found herself lying on the bed looking at Drusilla. Her head was pain free.
"Thank you," Willow said gratefully.
Angel returned then, and Willow sat up on the bed as they filled the copper bowl with their blood. When they were ready, she tossed the salve at Angel and held the talisman with both hands. True to her word, Willow was no worse for the wear when they'd finished.
"We're in room 152," Angel told her. "Get some sleep while we're gone?"
"I will."
After they'd left, Willow lifted the phone and requested a wake up call in an hour and a half. She turned off all the lights in the room except the one next to Dev's bed, then laid down next unconscious vampire. The bed was roomy enough that Willow wouldn't have to worry about jarring Dev.
As she cuddled beneath a blanket, she realized that Drusilla hadn't just made her head feel better; every muscle in her body was looser than it had been in days. Sighing, she drifted off to sleep.
***
Later, down the hall, Angel and Spike bolted into sitting positions on the bed when the phone rang in the motel room. It was on Spike's side, and he glared at it for a moment before he grabbed the receiver and put it to his ear. He said nothing, then he heard Willow's voice and relaxed.
"Um, sorry if I'm--well, I mean--shoot, we need to leave in half an hour. Don't forget to shower."
The phone clicked as she hung up, and Spike chuckled as he set the receiver down. "Wake up call from Willow," he told Angel, who grinned.
"I keep thinking she can't surprise me again, and she does," Angel commented, sitting up, much to Drusilla's dismay. "We need to get moving, Dru."
"Like I said, you never did look beyond the Slayer," Spike replied, lighting a cigarette and stretching out.
He felt better than he had in days. Angel had made good on his promise, reminding both him and Dru that they'd voluntarily given him dominion over them. It had been good and right and just what the doctor had ordered for them all. He laughed at that thought. Doctor Willow, writing the 'scripts to make them all better.
"Said not to forget to shower," Spike remembered. "You and Dru go first. I want to smoke a bloody load of fags while I still can." Angel stilled, and Spike shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's different now, isn't it?" he said uncomfortably, looking away.
"Yeah, it is," Angel said quietly, then led Dru into the bathroom.
As they showered, Spike thought about how eerily Willow's earlier words had echoed his own thoughts on the situation they were in. Despite his dig at Angel, Spike *had* been knocked flat by her little speech. The Willow he'd taken to L.A..he would've thought nothing could make her accept Angel, Spike and Drusilla reestablishing their little family, even temporarily. But she had, and not because it was necessary, or because there was no way around it, but because she understood. Maybe not all of it, but enough.
Dru and Angel came out of the bathroom, and Spike crushed out his latest cigarette, strolling bare-assed passed them to take his own shower. The thing about Willow was, she had a soft heart. Spike could relate to that, even if his own didn't extend a great deal further than a chosen few. The only reason she'd come to terms with everything so far, and the Aureolus reunion in particular, was because she liked people to hurt as little as possible.
It was something that Spike had exploited in the past, knowing instinctively how to make it hurt a little more than she'd expected since he was experienced with being on the receiving end of it. He figured that just like Drusilla and Dev had come to appreciate his inability to say no to anything they wanted, they also coming to depend on Willow's fierce need to keep them in as good a place as possible, mentally.
***
The next night they stopped again even though the plan had been to keep going until the following evening. But Drusilla had been restless all day, unable to sit still, her mutterings more conspicuous than usual. Her troubled gaze had fallen on Dev rather often, and nothing Spike or Angel had done had calmed her down. They'd decided to stop when she began kicking at the walls in the van, and Angel had been the one to knock on the divider between the front and back, while Spike had physically restrained Drusilla so that her flailing limbs didn't catch Dev.
As soon as Willow had checked them in and brought the van around the back of the motel, Drusilla exploded out of the van, her head tilted back and her manic gaze on the stars. Unintelligible whispers tumbled from her lips and she rocked back and forth.
Willow eyed her with concern, but didn't approach her. Spike moved towards the upset vampire and she threw herself into his arms, sobbing hysterically.
"Go for a walk, luv?" he offered quietly, rubbing his forehead against her hair.
She shook her head. "Noooooo."
Spike didn't look up as he spoke to Angel. "Can you manage?"
"Yes, take her inside. Willow, give him the key."
Willow tossed the room key to him and Spike took Drusilla inside, sitting on the bed and pulling her into his lap. "What's bothering you, pet?" he cooed. "Why are you so upset?"
She just sobbed harder, clutching at him with a grip so hard he could feel the bruises forming. "Noooooo," she mewled again.
Angel came in, Dev tucked in his arms. Willow was right behind him, her suitcase in one hand, the plastic sheet in the other. She made quick work of getting the other bed ready for Dev, and Angel set the vampire down gently. "I'll get the cooler," Willow mumbled, looking troubled.
"No, she's running!" Drusilla screamed, fighting her way out of Spike's arms.
Willow spun around, her eyes wide.
***
There was no time to think, no time to do anything but what she needed to do. Willow ignored Drusilla's distress, knowing that she needed to get the information they so desperately required.
"Where is she?" Willow asked Dru calmly.
"Nowhere," Drusilla cried out, tumbling to her knees. Willow joined her on the floor staying out of arm's reach.
"What do you see, Dru?" Willow pushed, closing her eyes so and making her mind a blank canvas for the words Drusilla would be painting.
"I see my Dev running and getting nowhere. She's in pain.so much pain in her tiny body. It hurts me."
She heard noises from Angel and Spike, but didn't acknowledge them. "Where is she running to?" Willow asked quietly.
"To the tree," Drusilla choked. "It droops and sags, but it's stronger than the tallest tree. Red.such red leaves.and inside it, the tingle, the power."
Willow picture Dev in a hallway, the tree at the end of it. "Is Dev at the tree yet?"
"Yes, but she's so weak.she's been running for so long. But she feels safe there," Dru added with childlike trust.
The certainty of that statement stopped Willow momentarily. "How do you know she feels safe there, Dru?"
"Because my Devil doesn't look scared, that's why. If the tree wasn't there, she'd be frightened, I can see that in her eyes."
"What is your Devil doing?"
Drusilla whimpered suddenly. "She's talking...but I can't hear her. I don't know what she's telling me. I don't know how I'm supposed to help her." A keening sound emanated from the other woman, and Willow winced.
"Dru," Willow said sternly. "What else is she doing? Is she moving?"
"Yes, yes she is!" Drusilla answered triumphantly. "She's pointing at something."
"What is she pointing at?" Willow pushed, the image in her mind changing to match what Drusilla was describing.
"I don't know."
Willow paused, and gathered her thoughts. "Look at what she's pointing at, Drusilla," she suggested gently.
"Don't want to look away from my Devil," Drusilla said petulantly. "Something bad might happen if I do."
"You said that Dev feels safe with under the tree," Willow reminded her. "Look where she's pointing."
"I--I--I'm not sure if I should," Drusilla stammered haltingly.
"She needs you to look, Dru," Willow said patiently. "She might die if you don't look." Dru was silent. "Do you want to help your Devil?"
"Oh, very much," Dru said passionately.
"Then you have to look."
"All right," Dru said smally. A pause. "Words, I think, but I can't read them. I don't know the words," she wailed fretfully.
"It's okay, Dru," Willow comforted. "Can you copy them onto paper?"
"Yes."
"Spike is going to get you paper, and something to write with. You need to copy them perfectly," Willow said somberly.
"I will."
She heard movement, then the sound of a pen scratching against paper, as well as Drusilla's humming.
"There. All done. They are very pretty words, even if I don't know what they mean," Drusilla said thoughtfully.
"You did very well, Dru," Willow praised. "Now you need to look at your Devil again. Can you do that?"
"Oh, yes. She's smiling!" Drusilla giggled happily. Then she abruptly gasped, and whimpered. "Nonononono. Scared. Terrified. Hurt. Pain. Nonononono."
"Drusilla!" Willow's voice was like a whip, cutting remorselessly into Drusilla's ramblings. "Why is Dev scared?"
"Don't know," she keened.
"What is she doing?"
"Staring at the sky, terror in her eye. Staring at the sky, terror in her eye. Staring at the sky, terror in her eye."
"Look up, Drusilla!" Willow ordered her harshly. "Lift your head and see what is making her scared."
"Nnnnnn," Drusilla wailed. "There are eyes. Red, glowing, hateful eyes. They want to hurt my Devil, but they can't see her through the branches. It's protecting her, but it's getting weaker. The branches are breaking, and soon the eyes will be able to get my Devil. The eyes that think themselves the fingers of God. The eyes that want to know her secrets and lies. The eyes that want to twist her up and rip her apart."
Willow's heart clenched, but she ignored it. "Are the eyes in the sky, Drusilla?"
"Yes," Dru sobbed.
"Look around. Are they alone?"
"Yes."
"Okay," Willow acknowledge, and took a breath. "Look back down at your Devil."
A swift intake of unneeded breath. "She's moving from under the tree, walking a little bit away. My Devil is dressed in branches, and she blends in with the tree. She's smiling, and she doesn't hurt. The eyes, they don't know. They're attacking the tree, and it is going to die soon, but not really."
"The tree will die?" Willow repeated brokenly.
"I'd like to go for a walk."
***
Spike closed the motel door behind him, carrying the receiver for the baby monitor Willow had gotten in Los Angeles, and which hadn't been used since then. The back doors of the van were open, and Willow sat between them, her legs dangling several inches from the ground.
He approached her slowly and sat carefully next to her.
"Angel's probably kicking himself six ways from Sunday," she said suddenly, staring down at her hands.
That was putting it lightly. The look on Angel's eyes when he'd left with Dru.
"Hm, I 'spose," Spike said slowly.
Willow shrugged and hopped out of the van. "I think I should be worried-- really worried. Probably scared, too," she commented idly, facing him. "But I'm not. Know why?"
Spike watched her hands disappear into the sleeves of her blue sweater. She seemed so calm, so blank. "It's the whole 'not really' thing. Leaves a lot left unsaid," he offered. "Not that Dru's visions are faultless to begin with."
One arm wrapped itself around her waist, and her other hand, still encased in that soft blue material, rubbed against her cheek. "Will Dru be okay?"
"Yes," Spike laughed, tilting his head back in absolute disbelief at this chit, with the softest heart and thinnest skin he'd every come across. "Dru will be bloody peachy, Red, and I'm sure you'll wrack your brains and come up with some soddin' brilliant way of making Angel feel all right about it all." He lowered his head and glared at her. "You'll figure out what to do about Dev, too, 'cause this is you we're talking about, ain't it?"
Spike slipped from the van, stalked towards her and grabbed her chin. "Meanwhile, where does all that leave you?"
She frowned, confused. "What? Do you mean--oh, right." She nodded her head and patted his hand with a blue covered fist. "I'll still suck it up. Don't worry about that."
"Haven't you realized yet that you should tell me to sod off when I say shite like that?" he practically shouted. "Bloody everyone else has. But no, not you. Can't be the damnable martyr then, is that it?"
She shoved past him with, dislodging his hand from her chin, and walked away. Fuck that. Spike wrapped his hand around her arm and spun her around. "Hit a little to close to home, St. Willow?" he jeered.
He saw her face whiten, and knew he should stop, should let her go and drop the subject. But he just couldn't, and damned if he knew why.
"You think that a few months of being around me means that you *know* me?" Willow hissed furiously.
"It does," he bit out, grinning maliciously, "because as much as your parents may have told you you're special, you're just like a million other people out there, and I know people." He jerked her closer, until her body was flush with his, stared down at her with disgust, then released her so abruptly that she stumbled back.
"Congratulations," she told him coldly, her back ridged and ramrod straight.
"On which part?" he retorted almost pleasantly, but he could feel the curl of his lip, knew that brow of his was lifted disdainfully. "Sticking the knife in?" He made an appropriate stabbing motion with his hand. "Or twisting it just so?" His whole body undulated as he then followed it with a sharp twist. Lowering his hand, he shrugged. "Because, they're both noteworthy."
"Getting through to me," she countered distinctly. Spike frowned and she bared her teeth in a disturbing semblance of a smile before laughing harshly. "Buffy, Xander, Giles.none of them could. So, thank you, and remember not to break the doors, because there's no way we'll be able to get another van around here."
The doors? What the hell?
"Fuck!" Spike screamed as he landed painfully in the back of the van. He scurried to his feet but the doors slammed shut and locked. He heard Willow's voice, one last time.
"Truce is over."
***
Willow ran into the motel room and slammed the door shut, muttering a quick apology to Dev. She was shaking. Oh, and she was crying. Damn it, no. She refused to cry. Hell, she wasn't stopping.
She couldn't believe that she'd let him get to her like that. Falling onto the bed, she shook her head. That wasn't true. She knew full well why he'd gotten to her. It was because he was right. She *did* tend to martyr herself, and she *had* jumped on the "suck it up" train a little too eagerly, and with more gung-ho than necessary.
He was also wrong, though; it wasn't something she did to make herself seem better than anyone else. It just seemed to be how she often found herself. Well, except for this time. This time she'd consciously made the decision to focus on everyone else, because she needed the distraction to make things easier to handle, to keep herself from driving the van into a wall at sixty miles an hour just so it would be over, because there was no end in sight. Which was damned funny, because nothing had even *happened* yet. But maybe that's why she was so desperate, because it was bad enough now that she didn't want to contemplate how much worse it might get.
Why had Spike felt the need to tear into her like that? Ah, but she knew the answer to that, didn't she? Yes, she did. The fool was just as scared as the rest of them, but God forbid he just admit it. Oh, heavens no. Jerk. And he wasn't likely to get any better, after what Willow had just done. Willow tore her hands through her hair and sighed heavily. She had seriously pissed him off, and the repercussions weren't going to be pretty. The only recourse she had to keep from getting drawn in again was to just fall back on ignoring him as best she could.
The motel door opened, and she lifted her head to see Angel and Drusilla enter the room. The heavy cloak of guilt in Angel's eyes lifted slightly when he looked around the room. "Where's Spike?"
"I locked him in the van. Hopefully I threw him hard enough to knock him out," Willow said spitefully.
"What did he do?" Angel growled, fists clenching at his side.
She had about as much energy for another testosterone showdown as she did for a round of easing Angel's guilt, so she waved it away. "Nothing, really," she said honestly. "Just.hit a sore spot. Can we get moving again?"
***
In the van, Spike nursed the back of his head, which had bounced off the metal floor when Willow had sent him hurtling inside. Damn her, damn him, damn it all.
He would have called it a miscalculation on his part, except that implied he'd had a goal in mind. Which he decidedly hadn't. No, he'd just lashed out in his typical fashion. Bloody lovely. Angel was going to beat the shit out of him. And for what? Why had he gotten so angry? Generally, he didn't bother himself with whatever self-destructive behavior anyone chose to partake of.
Through the monitor, he heard a door slam, some mumbling, and then sniffling. Aw hell, the chit was crying now. Even if he survived Angel, the Slayer was going to make him wish he hadn't. Shit.
He slammed his fist against the side of the van. He should have just left her alone, no matter that if she kept it up, she was going to walk away from this a shell of what she was.
Spike sat up, eyes wide. Hell. Bloody *fucking* hell. Drusilla's vision had ramifications beyond the obvious. Willow was putting her life on the line for one of them, and that made Willow herself one of them. He ran a weary hand over his face. That's what had happened out there. His bloody subconscious had just registered it before him; they all had a duty to Willow now, a duty to do for her and give to her everything that they did and gave to each other.
Drusilla had realized it already. Spike had assumed that her pet name for Willow, and her flashes of protectiveness, had spawned from Dev's magic. Or the bonding the women had done after Willow had finally seen Dev. Completely wrong, that. Drusilla had already reclassified Willow.
Spike grinned then; considering this new turn in events, he'd been completely justified tonight. Of course, Angel hadn't realized it yet and who knew how many punches Spike was going to have to take before he listened. More than a few, he guessed. Eh, he could take a few.
More voices through the monitor. Angel and Dru were back. Spike listened to Willow tell Angel what she'd done. "My head is harder than that, Red," he drawled, smiling at her 'umph'.
Willow asked Angel if they could leave, and he agreed. There was a pause and then he continued with, "Willow, about what Dru said. If I'd known, I would never have gotten you involved. I mean that."
Even with the crappy reception, Spike could hear the weight to those words, the metric ton of guilt that had been ladled on, and he frowned. It wasn't entirely Willow's fault that she pushed herself aside; those around her tended to manipulate her, most of the time unwittingly, into a position where that cotton heart of hers had no choice but to take over.
"It's not your fault and you have nothing to make up to me, so drop it," Spike heard Willow say flatly. "I'll be in the van."
A slow grin crept across his features. "Good girl. May be hope for you yet. Let's just hope the sire-figure gets it through his head, too."
***
Willow avoided Spike the next night. Skillfully. Wherever he was, she found a way to be someplace else. Which was harder than it sounded when they were occupying one room. It irked Spike to no end and consequently he'd done his best to force her to acknowledge him. She'd showered, then said she was going to the restaurant attached to the motel for some food. Spike had tried to follow her, but she'd changed direction at the last moment and taken off in the van.
When she'd returned half an hour later, it had been time for him and Angel to do another blood run. He'd tried to beg off, but Angel was having none of that. He'd curled his lip at Spike and told him to hurry the hell up.
It took five minutes of dodging punches and wresting himself from Angel's grip before Spike finally got the other vampire to stop hitting and start listening.
"Hey," he shouted at Angel, ducking out of the way of a punch. "Turn those fists on yourself, since you're the one in the wrong."
Angel lowered his raised fist and stared at Spike incredulously. "What? I haven't done anything to Willow."
Spike snorted and wiped blood from his face with the back of his hand. "Exactly."
"What are you talking about?" Angel asked haltingly, confusion etched on his features.
Spike moved forward and stared Angel down. "You don't get the benefits without paying the dues," Spike said clearly. "You're the one who taught me that." Then he stepped back and watched in satisfaction as Angel finally understood.
Angel ran his hand across the back of his neck and sighed. "I forgot," he said flatly. "I forgot."
"Yeah, you did," Spike agreed, lighting a cigarette. "To be expected. It's been how long since you last did this? Let's not forget the fact that you've been fraternizing with the humans and getting used to their ways. Same as me," he tacked on when Angel shot him a look. "Didn't realize it until yesterday. Dru, on the other hand, she's known a while."
Angel shook his head. "She's more sensitive to these things. Damn."
"Will's ours," Spike said plainly, cutting through the rest of the shit. "And you've got to deal with it, because in the ten minutes we were all in the motel, I saw you shoot eight, maybe nine of those patented looks at her." Spike raised a brow and Angel looked away.
"She's got a marshmallow for a heart," Spike went on. "Every time she has to comfort you is one more time that she neglects herself, and you know better than anyone what that leads to."
Angel narrowed his eyes on him consideringly. "I take it you flung that truth home to her last night in your usual cruel fashion?" he said icily, and Spike squirmed just a bit, pretty much confirming it. "Am I supposed to believe it was for her own good instead of just lashing out at a convenient target?"
Spike snorted and rolled his eyes. "Of course," he said smugly.
Since the end had justified the means Angel couldn't technically punish Spike even if he believed that Spike's intentions hadn't been honorable. By the look he was getting, Spike was damn sure that Angel knew the truth of the matter, and understood the gray area.
They didn't speak much for the rest of the run, and when they got back to the motel, only Drusilla and Dev were there. Drusilla told them Willow had gone outside, and when they hurried into the parking lot, they saw her silhouetted in the front seat of the van, her face lit by the glow from her laptop screen.
Spike took a step towards her, ready to storm the bloody vehicle, but Angel flung an arm across his chest. "Don't push her," he said quietly. "Now that I know what you hit her with, I think she's got some thinking to do. "
Which made sense, but didn't do a damned thing for Spike.
"You've been trying to get in her face all night," Angel stated. "Why?"
"I already told you," Spike equivocated, turning away. "We have a responsibility to her now."
Angel put a hand on the back of Spike's neck and tugged him close. His forehead came to rest on Spike's and he smiled. "Don't lie to me, Spike," he said in that velvet voice of his. "That's not all of it. Tell me why."
Spike closed his eyes and swayed forward, saying nothing.
"Spike."
There was a bit of bite to the word that had Spike shivering and pressing closer. "I don't hate her," he admitted reluctantly.
Angel shifted, moving Spike's head to the crook of his neck. "Wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Yes."
A throaty chuckle. "Doesn't make you weak, you know." Spike grunted and tensed, but Angel pulled him closer. "Relax. I'm not Angelus, Spike, but that doesn't mean I'm going to try to corrupt you to the good side. I missed *you*, not something you think I might try to turn you into."
Angel pulled back and framed Spike's face with his hands, face sober. "Pay attention. That thing you have, that ability to actually give a damn?" Angel shook his head and tightened his grip on Spike's face. "It's not weakness, no matter what Drusilla might have said in a fit of fury."
And then he did try to pull away, but Angel wouldn't let him go. "Using the truth against someone is one of the best ways to hurt a person, but it's not the only one," Angel said firmly. "Preying on someone's own insecurity is another."
Yes, he knew that. Hadn't he pulled that on the Scoobies during that Adam debacle?
"Did Angelus tolerate weakness?"
"No," Spike snapped.
Angel raised a brow.
"Think that's a convincing argument?" Spike parried, once again trying to pull away. This time Angel let him. "Maybe the soul's distorted your view of things, but not mine. I remember every jab he took."
"Not because he thought it was weak of you to care about Drusilla," Angel shot back, "but because he knew that your doubt would give someone an opening on you, and he didn't want that. You damn well know it."
Spike *had* known and believed that. Until that wanker, that pale imitation of Angelus with the hard-on for getting revenge on the Slayer, had shown up in Sunnydale. Since then, Spike had found it difficult to look back and not second-guess everything, to not wonder if maybe the wanker hadn't just finally done and said what Angelus had always wanted to.
"The last thing I was going for was a therapy session," Angel said ruefully, laughing.
Spike laughed as well. "What brought that on, anyway?"
Angel grinned. "Same thing that always brought it on. Stop trying to get me to 'express my feelings'." He smirked, and Spike lifted a brow, waiting. "That's your department. 'I don't hate her'," he mocked, his voice trembling and kind of squishy.
"Oh, sod off," Spike growled, but he had to fight back a smile when Angel kept at it as they made their way back to the room.
It was complicated and simple at the same time. Back in the Los Angeles, he'd warned Angel against reprising Angelus' role in every way. Then he'd gone ahead and given him tacit permission to do so by sitting on the floor. To add fuel to the fire, Spike had reminded Angel of the duties that came along with the responsibility. Still, he'd expected Angel to go only as far as dominance with him and Drusilla, applying the rest to Willow. He hadn't even considered that Angel might start acting like the patriarch Angelus had been.
If it had happened before Spike had come to understand the whole reality- vacation deal, he would have balked. But he knew that this was just a slip of non-time, and he planned on taking advantage of it.
***
In the van, Willow rolled up the window and watched with wide eyes as the vampires retreated. That had been Angel, not Angelus, which totally blew her mind. And Spike.she'd never imagined him seeking reassurance, though she wasn't surprised at the backhanded manner in which he'd set about getting it. That had been typical Spike, that.
Okay, there'd been *nothing* in the Watcher journals about.familial ties. And that was what she'd just witnessed, she acknowledged. The head of a family both guiding and shoving another member passed self-imposed barriers. It was a revelation. She'd thought it had been about sex and authority, but now she knew that it was about more. It was about those wacky vampires from the Order of Aurelis, who broke every mould that had been used to make them.
It made sense, suddenly, why they had instilled fear in even their own species. One might say that they had each other's backs. An alien sentiment to most vampires, to be sure, and something that had made each of the individuals as strong as the whole.
It made Willow feel better about the whole situation. She wasn't being left in the dust for rutting and spanking--and, oh, bad mental image--but was witnessing a family come together again. She accepted that she *didn't* and *couldn't* have a place there, but it didn't leave her feeling lonely. Because families were their own unit, sure, but they also had friends.
The rest of what she'd overheard, that wasn't nearly as easy to understand. Had Spike actually admitted to liking her? As in, he wasn't going to take the first opportunity to rip her throat out? It boggled her mind, mostly because she couldn't reconcile that with what he'd done last night.
Then again, she was looking at it from her very human perspective, wasn't she? As she'd just seen, vampires didn't tend to go about things in the same manner. It was most certainly food for thought, just like the other things Spike had forced her to think about. Such as, was she actually harming herself in the long run by concentrating on everyone but herself? The simple answer to that was, yes. The hard part was deciding whether or not she cared to change it, and even harder was figuring out what to do instead if she did want to change it.
Either way, hiding in the van seemed kind of foolish all of a sudden. She looked at her watch and saw that there was still an hour before they would hit the road again. She closed the laptop and went back to the room.
***
Angel made a concerted effort to keep any guilt he was feeling off of his face when Willow came in. Much as it galled him to admit it, Spike had been completely and totally right about what was going on with her. If Angel thought about it, he could recall every instance that Willow had put aside her own feelings and needs for the rest of them since she'd gotten to L.A. Spike was right; Angel knew full well what that would mean for her down the road.
He could also admit that he hadn't seen it earlier because he'd been too selfish to look past what was developing between him, Spike and Dru. Then he'd become too caught up in them to remember the responsibility that came with the pretense.
"Gonna duck into the bathroom?" Spike sniped at Willow.
Angel hid a grin at the petulant tone in Spike's voice. Trust Spike to be so contrary. Finally got her in the same room, then acted like a child.
"Nope," Willow replied cheerfully.
Eyes wide, Angel tilted his head and took a good look at her. None of the tightness that had been present in her earlier was there anymore. None of the coldness, either. What exactly had gone on in that nimble mind of hers?
Spike shrugged and glared at her. "Well, we already took care of Dev, so we don't need you. Feel free to flee to the van again."
Angel had the overwhelming urge to smack Spike. Willow beat him to it, striding across the room to whack her hand across the back of his head. Must have been hard, too, because Spike slid off the edge of the bed and landed on his ass. Angel snickered, and Drusilla peered over the side of the other bed, laughing delightedly.
"You are such a jerk, Spike," Willow announced, hands on her hips. An unreadable expression passed over her face then she nodded her head and smiled. "Yep, total jerk."
The way she said it, it was like an affirmation.
"Hey!" Spike growled, indignation lowering his eyebrows. "I'm not taking too kindly to this new habit you have of assaulting me." His face settled into prissy lines, and he sniffed. "I feel pain, you know."
It clicked. All the little things Angel had picked up on that had at first made him think there was something going on between Spike and Willow, and the subsequent conflicts. They found comfort in the camaraderie they were both quick to deny existed between them and when it had fallen by the wayside due to the strain of the constant moving around, they'd both suffered for it. Hence the nasty altercations.
Angel looked over at them, bickering like kids, and understood it even further. It wasn't about them getting to a place where they were non- violent and non-arguing. It had nothing to do with them ignoring each other. Willow taking her power back was inconsequential. The vampires' duty to Willow only heightened it. Spike not hating Willow was irrelevant. And the camaraderie was just a side effect.
It was about that game Spike had told him about, the one with Spike and Willow on one team and everyone else on the other.
They were polar opposites. Glaringly obvious, yes, but what was less obvious was what exactly that meant for these particular people. These two, they tried so hard to be entirely one-sided, one-dimensional. They mostly succeeded, too. It was easy to ignore the seldom seen softer side of Spike and categorize him as evil. Because he was. It was just as easy to ignore the ramifications of Willow's vampire self and her more intense studies of witchcraft, and categorize her as wholesome and good. Because she was.
No one was that simple, especially not these two. Angel had never denied that about either of them individually, but he also had never considered both of them at the same time. Spike and Willow.they had the power to completely and utterly destroy each other and themselves without even trying. Just as they had the power to do the polar opposite.
It was a clear sign of just how far gone Angel was that he didn't know which option he preferred when he knew what would be involved in the latter.
***