*******
Angel woke up feeling disoriented. Eyes still closed, he tried to figure out what was throwing him off. After a moment, he realized that there wasn't a heat emitting Willow to his left, and the memory of the previous night returned. His eyes flew open and he tilted his head down to stare at Dev.
Her eyes were open and she was watching him. "Hi," she said, her voice deeper than he was accustomed to hearing.
"Hi," he said with a smile. "How are you?"
Dev shook her head. "I'm good." She gave him a wry grin. "I'd be better if Spike wasn't so restless over on your other side, but beggars can't be choosers."
Angel cut his eyes to his left, and saw Spike's furrowed brow. Generally, Willow was situated between him and Spike, with Dev and then Drusilla on Angel's right side. He had a fuzzy memory of Willow bringing them blood and then slipping out of the room.
"How long have I been...out?" Dev asked him quietly, and Angel looked down at her again.
"A little over a month."
She blinked. "That's all? I thought it would take longer."
Angel shrugged, the movement awkward because of the way she was lying on his arm. "Willow helped with that. Do you feel weak?"
A frown came to her face, then she seemed to shake it off. "Only a little bit," she said with some surprise. "Like I haven't been eating properly." She narrowed her eyes on him. "I should be in a lot worse shape."
"Willow," Angel said again, then reached out to shake Spike. "Wake up. Dev needs to eat."
Spike groaned and pried his eyes open, confusion settling into them. "What?" he mumbled, sitting up. He stared at the empty space next to him, then looked at Angel, who just tilted his head down to gesture at Dev. "Bloody hell, it's good to see your eyes open," Spike said to her with a grin.
Angel watched her smile with something like wonder, then reach out and touch Spike's face. "It's good to have my eyes open and...see this little scene I never thought I'd see." Her dark blue eyes twinkled. "One big happy family. I think I might tear up."
Spike snorted. "Don't get sappy on us, luv. You give me hope for the souled set, what with your blood thirst and utter brutality."
Drusilla stirred on Dev's other side, boneless body wafting up as she pushed her tussled hair from her face. She grinned down at Dev delightedly, pulling their childe to her and cradling her against her breast.
"Our Devil is back," she sighed contentedly, but then a frown pulled at her brow as her eyes scanned the bed. She made a small, discontented sound at Willow's absence and pulled Dev closer.
"I'll get some blood," Angel said, sitting up and sliding down the bed. He was damned tired, and looking at the others, he knew they were as well. Questioning Dev would have to wait until they could blink without being tempted to sleep.
Getting to his feet, he pulled his shirt off and kicked his shoes off. Padding downstairs, he found Willow in the kitchen, leaning with her back against a counter, desperately drinking coffee. Her face was pale, with a grayish cast to it, and she had deep shadows under her eyes. She was still wearing her clothes from the night before.
"Hey," she said when she saw him, her voice raspy and raw. "How's Dev doing?"
Angel tilted his head to the side. "Good," he said absently. "Are you all right? You look kind of...tired."
He was being nice with the assessment. She looked exhausted and haggard, to be honest.
Willow took a sip of coffee. "I stayed up for a while in case you guys needed anything," she said tiredly. "I think I stayed up too late, because then I got too tired to sleep and now I'm just...blargh." She flashed him a weak smile and held up her cup. "But, you know, coffee. Helps."
He thought she wasn't being quite honest with him because of the way she avoided looking at him, and Angel frowned, but let it go at that. Most likely she hadn't been able to sleep in her solitary bed again; he knew the feeling. After leaving Darla and the others for the final time after the soul, it had taken him weeks to adjust to being alone. Then he'd had to go through the readjustment again after he, Spike and Drusilla had spent all that time with Dev. He really wasn't looking forward to doing it again once this was over.
"Try to sleep," he suggested, going to the refrigerator. "We'll be doing the same after we feed Dev."
Willow crossed the room to the sink and took the black carafe from last night out of the dish rack and handed it to him. "If I sleep now, my whole sleep schedule will be out of whack. Besides, I'm overdue for laundry."
Angel pulled several bags of blood out and close the refrigerator door. Willow passed him an empty mug when he cut open a pouch, and he slipped it into the microwave. They worked together silently, compatibly, to heat up five bags and add them to the carafe.
When he headed out of the room, Willow followed, carrying several mugs. Angel tossed her a questioning look and she shrugged, yawning widely. "Figure I can do those sheets while I'm at it," she said. "They're kind of bloody and stuff."
Angel paused at the foot of the steps leading upstairs and stared down at her. "Thank you," he said quietly.
She blinked once, then smiled. "They're just some sheets, Angel. No need to get all emotional about them," she teased him, her eyes twinkling, albeit mutedly due to her fatigue.
His lips quirked, and he reached out with the hand not holding the carafe to cup her cheek in his palm. "I mean it," he insisted. "I don't know how long it would have taken for Dev to get better if you hadn't helped, or how long we would have had to keep running."
She lifted her shoulders in a dismissive shrug. "You're welcome, but it wasn't that big of a deal. Just a little mojo here and there. Simple, even."
Thinking about what they'd been through, what they still didn't know, what might or might not be happening between her and Spike, and what they had yet to go through, Angel didn't think that "simple" entered into the equation at all.
Mentally shaking his head at what the Hellmouth had taught this young woman about simple, he started upstairs, Willow trailing behind him.
In the master bedroom, Spike was sprawled on the bed, legs crossed at the ankles and one arm tucked under his head while he smoked and watched the two women slowly walking around the room. Drusilla was supporting a slightly wobbly Dev by way of an arm around her waist. The t-shirt she had on was one of Spike's black numbers, and it hit her about mid-thigh. Her hair was a mass of purple tangles and was sticking out in all directions. She was a sight for sore eyes, that was for sure.
Spike's eyes flickered to Angel and Willow, and he motioned to the copper bowl on the bedside table while he put out his cigarette and set his ashtray aside. Angel sniffed quickly and realized that he and Dru had already put their portions in. Willow shifted the mugs around in her hands until they dangled from three fingers of one of her hands, then took the carafe from him and crossed to the dresser.
"Look like shit, pet," Spike commented to her as she poured blood into each of the mugs.
Angel cut into his wrist and held the copper bowl under it. Willow glared at Spike, which just made him smirk, then offered Dev and Drusilla a smile. "Hi guys."
Dev lifted a hand in greeting, continuing her slow circuit around the room. Vampires' muscles couldn't atrophy from non-use the way humans' could, but they could get painfully stiff after such a long period of inactivity and the more she walked at the moment, the better off she would be.
"That's precious," Drusilla said to Dev, leaning down and pressing a kiss on her cheek. "She's ours."
Dev stared at Willow and blinked. "All right," she said neutrally, then smiled gratefully when Angel brushed Drusilla aside and helped her to a chair. She took the bowl from him and drank it down quickly, a light hint of gold entering her eyes.
"Hurry it up with the blood, wench," Spike called out cheerfully to Willow.
Angel rubbed his forehead and took the empty bowl from Dev. Willow was too tired to have any patience for him, and Angel was too tired from all the blood donations the previous night to have any patience for the inevitable argument that would follow.
"Spike," he said warningly.
The blonde exhaled a plume of smoke and arched a brow. "Angel," he said in the same tone.
With a silent groan, Angel realized that he'd forgotten just how obnoxious Spike could get when he was in a good mood.
"Spike, why don't you do something useful," Willow grumbled. "Strip--"
"Willow, I'm shocked!" Spike gasped.
"--the bed, you idiot," she finished with another glare and a yawn. She waved a mug in his general direction, then held it behind her back. "No blood for you until you do."
Angel groaned when he saw the way Spike's eyes glowed at that. Oh, hell. Willow wasn't expecting it, mainly because she hadn't yet seen Spike in a mood like this since this had started. If Angel were to hazard a guess, he'd say that she was expecting a volley of half-hearted insults to get traded before Spike went ahead and stripped the bed--probably shredding the sheets in the process.
Instead, Spike was on his feet and across the room before she could blink. In fact, the mug had been divested of her hand and she'd been tossed onto the bed before she realized that he'd moved. Willow landed with a thump, arms and legs akimbo as she stared at Spike in total incomprehension.
A smirk slid across Spike's face, and she began scrambling backwards, her fear scenting the air. Angel narrowed his eyes on Spike and snapped, "Cut it out. Now."
The blonde ignored him, pouncing at the bed and grabbing Willow from behind, one arm around her waist and trapping her hands at her side, and the other pressed against her throat. Angel could see her eyes, could see that she didn't realize this was just Spike feeling...well, playful. Which he was, because his eyes were sparkling mischievously as he bent his head and set his mouth near her ear. But Willow was facing away from him, and all she knew were the arms holding her in place, the face coming too close to her neck for comfort.
"Not nice to keep blood from a hungry vampire, pet," he murmured.
"That's enough," Angel growled when Willow's heart rate picked up. Spike was too caught up in his little game to realize that she wasn't playing along, and just rolled his eyes. Angel strode across the room and curled a hand tightly through Spike's short hair. "Damn it, Spike, you're scaring her."
Spike blinked slowly, then cocked his head to the side. The amusement fled from his face and he sucked in a breath and then slowly released Willow. She pushed herself forward, and Angel lifted her off the bed, setting her on her feet and taking hold of her face.
"That would be Spike in a good mood. It doesn't translate well," he told her gently. She was shaking just a little, but her heart had slowed down and the fear had eased away. Angel tilted her face up and stared down at her until she seemed to have processed that. "Nothing's changed. You're safe with us."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spike get to his feet and start to come their way. A quick glare had the younger vampire coming to a stop, his jaw clenched as he looked at them.
"I know," Willow said, sighing. The last hint of trepidation left her and she shook her head. "I completely overreacted. I'm just--"
"Exhausted and not thinking too clearly," Angel finished with a nod. "I know. Forget about the sheets--we'll trash them. Get some sleep, and that's not a request."
Her eyes flickered to Dev and Drusilla, who had watched everything with wide eyes. "But what if you need--"
"Sleep," he repeated, moving his hold to her shoulders and turning her towards the door. He gave her a little nudge. "Now."
"Fine, but I'm going to eat something first," she said ill-temperedly, almost stomping away. Angel let her get away with the small show of defiance because he knew she'd obey him and get some sleep. Before she left the room, however, she turned back and her eyes sought Spike. He returned the look with guarded eyes that Angel knew hid his regret for the little stunt. Her head tilted to the side, and then she quirked a brow just as a mug of blood emptied itself on Spike's head. "We're even," she called out as she fled the room.
Spike stood next to the bed, blood dripping down his wide-eyed, slack jawed face. Anger followed shock, only to be replaced almost instantly by wry amusement. "Bloody hell," he muttered as he grabbed hold of the top sheet on the bed and wiped his face.
Angel listened to Willow make her way downstairs and into the kitchen. Moving quickly, he grabbed hold of Spike's throat and pulled him up on his toes.
"Back off," Spike snarled. "I didn't know she was half asleep."
Angel pulled him closer. "You should have," he barked. "Just like you should have noticed she was scared." He shoved Spike away and glared at him. "You reminded me of my responsibilities, and now I'm reminding you of yours," he went on coldly. "This is the *second* time I've seen you needlessly scare her, and it *will* be the last. Understand me?"
Spike resentfully dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Yeah, got it," he said flatly.
"Get a clean set of sheets in here," Angel said tightly, moving to start stripping the bed. "And leave your little attitude in the hall when you come back in."
The vampire's exit from the room was similar to Willow's, what with the stomping, and Angel clenched his jaw.
"What the hell is going on?" Dev asked with confusion. "Spike just *listened* to you. He never listens to you. Or anyone."
Angel cut a glance in her direction and saw that she was sitting alone now, Drusilla having gone to the dresser to get blood for herself. "You saw him listen to me once before," he reminded her, balling the sheets up and tossing them in a corner.
Dev nodded slowly, her eyes watching him carefully as he joined Drusilla at the dresser for his own mug of blood. "That was different, though," she said very slowly. She paused, and her next words were laced with a million questions. "We were family."
Angel nodded, just once. "For now, we are again."
Sapphire eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "All right," she said, just as she'd said when Drusilla had proclaimed Willow theirs.
Dru clapped her hands happily, spinning in circles. "We're in a play, sweetness," she laughed. "Only we're not." She twirled a stop and dropped her chin to her chest, her glittering eyes lifting to look at Dev. "It's deliciously twisted."
"All right," Dev said again, and Angel guessed that was going to be her response to everything that wasn't quite clear enough for her tastes.
Spike came back in with the sheets, tossing them on the bed and making a beeline for the blood. Angel noticed the remnants of the cup Willow had dumped on him were now gone, so he must have washed up in the bathroom.
With quick motions, Angel made the bed and motioned everyone towards it. "When we're rested, we'll talk," he said to the room at large, setting in the middle. Everyone joined him, Drusilla helping a still-unsteady Dev, and Spike flouncing down with a grunt.
Dev was asleep almost immediately, and Dru followed not long after, wrapped around their childe. Angel kept his exhaustion at bay, waiting on Spike to fall asleep before succumbing himself. It was something he'd always done as patriarch, a small thing that had always seemed right. Make sure the others were taken care of before he took care of himself. But Spike, despite having to be as tired as the rest of them were, was restless.
He tossed. He turned. He kept himself confined to a very small space just this side of the edge of the bed, as though Willow was still there. Even though she wasn't, which was why he was having a problem falling asleep if Angel was right. After what seemed like an eternity, the blonde finally fell asleep despite himself, and Angel muttered a small prayer of thanks and went to sleep as well.
*******
Down the hall, Willow stumbled into the room she hadn't used in well over a week, her stomach appeased by the chips she'd fed it, and changed into her pajamas. She hadn't been entirely truthful with Angel about why she hadn't slept. True, she'd been concerned that they might need something, but she'd also not wanted to contemplate her empty room, either.
But there was no way around it, because Dev waking up had changed things. Maybe not a huge amount, but enough. Looking down at the four vampires the previous night, she'd realized that her place wasn't with them. They were family, bound by blood in ways that were more complex and a lot deeper than biological bonds. She was just the girl who was helping them. That entitled her to a lot, but it didn't entirely include her, and she understood it.
Sighing, she lay down and experimented with stretching out. It felt strange, to say the least. She was used to having a very small amount of space in which to sleep, and being bracketed on both sides by strong bodies. She felt adrift in her single bed, like it was an ocean and she was a little, tiny buoy among the vastness of water. She felt...vulnerable. Shivering slightly, she took the blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around herself, almost binding herself with it. It helped just slightly, but in the end it didn't matter, because her body was running on empty and it didn't care about who was or was not next to her.
When she fell asleep, she slid right into the nightmares. If she' d had legs in the dream--if her body had been present in it the way her mind was-- she would have collapsed from the onslaught of images. Scalpels being displayed for her to see by cloaked figures. Hands and feet being manacle to some kind of surface. She heard screams and crying, smelled raw flesh that she knew was her own. Felt a pain unlike any she'd ever experienced as her back was sliced away one inch at a time.
For the first time since Drusilla had shown Willow her safe spot, Willow had to retreat there. She pulled away from the nightmare, pulled as hard and desperately as she could, and it sped up, the pain crashing around her, each moment flowing so quickly into another that they overlapped and didn't give her a moment to breathe.
She stopped pulling and just screamed, over and over again, choking when she saw her skinned back being held up for her to see. And that's what did it. The skin. It wasn't hers, and she knew it. These weren't her memories. This hadn't happened to her.
And she didn't have to stay there. She pulled back again, putting everything in her behind the motion, and suddenly found herself in the living room of the house. On the sofa. Spike's back was braced against the arm, and Willow was nestled between his thighs. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and one of his legs was curled on top of her thighs. He was encircling her. Sighing, she leaned back and moments later had retreated to a dreamless sleep that, unfortunately, didn't last long.
She woke up gasping for breath, not feeling rested in the least, and deciding against trying to sleep again. For some reason, she'd kept drifting from her safe place back into the nightmare and she wasn't eager to repeat the process any more. Sighing, she got out of bed and dragged herself downstairs for yet more coffee. In the kitchen, she saw the time and was surprised to see that it was only midnight. Angel had come downstairs at around seven, which meant that she'd headed to bed sometime around eight. She would have thought she'd sleep longer, even with the dreams.
Sighing tiredly, she took a breath and pushed all thoughts of the nightmares from her mind. She didn't know how to get rid of them. Or, rather, she didn't know a way that wouldn't expose her to whoever was sending them. Right now they were generalized, directed at Dev's last known location, in a way. There was no way they could track Willow directly right now. But if she tried to actively block or stop what they were doing, it would give them a path to her directly. And that would be bad. Just very bad.
After making the coffee and some toast, she stood at the counter and wondered what would happen now. With Dev up and recovered, would Angel send Willow back to Sunnydale? With a start, she realized she wasn't as pleased at the idea as she should have been. Strange as everything had been over the last few weeks, she'd kind of grown to like it.
Also, there was no denying the fact that she would miss Spike. Even her denial had its limits. After all, they'd spent so much time together. True, he still managed to annoy and disgust her. But away from the Scoobies, and with her current status, he'd also made her laugh, and she'd never been able to talk to anyone the way she could talk to Spike.
With him, she didn't have to censor anything for a lower reading level. And, yeah, she felt kind of bad thinking that her friends needed to have things...uh, dumbed down at times, but they did. Even if Spike didn't know about something, all it took was an overview for him to get the entire picture. While they might not agree on every point--or any, actually--Spike never made her feel like an idiot for thinking anything. As long as she had an actual reason, of course. And, truthfully, she'd actually begun second- guessing some things, mainly due to the way he'd forced her to validate her opinions every chance he got.
Going home would mean leaving behind thought-provoking conversations. Not to mention cuddly vampires, which she was far too addicted to if her difficulty falling asleep earlier was any indication.
But it was more than just Spike, truthfully. Or even the cuddles. She felt accepted with the vampires. Fully accepted. As in, no matter what, they'd be on her side. It was nice to not worry that a choice or opinion would cause her to be cast out. Not that she thought Buffy, or Xander would do that. But she had a *guarantee* that the vampires wouldn't.
She was startled from her thoughts by the ringing of the phone. Quickly swallowing the last of her toast, she sipped from her coffee as she hurried into the living room to answer the phone.
"Hey Wesley," she answered; he was the only one who had the number.
"Willow," he greeted her. "How is everything?"
"Dev woke up!" Willow informed him.
"That's excellent news. I'm afraid that mine isn't as good, though."
Willow sighed. She'd had a feeling this was coming. "You don't think it has to do with the Analects, do you?" she guessed.
"No," Wesley admitted tiredly. "However, I do believe it has to do with the Amalgamated. Unfortunately, I've not been able to find anything on that front."
"Nothing?" Willow repeated, a nagging suspicion coming to the fore of her mind. "I think Dev probably horded it all. Maybe the others, too."
Wesley made a noise of agreement. "I can't even find what her purpose is, though the records I've translated thus far indicated she's a Champion in her own right. But that seems too..."
"Straightforward for a prophetic creation?" Willow finished perkily.
"Indeed," he drawled. "I think I need to speak with Angel. See what he thinks our next move should be."
"All right. I'll have him call you."
Wesley chuckled. "Still haven't found the cordless? Or at least its remains?"
"No," she grumbled. "I think Spike covered his tracks. Let me go wake Angel."
"Before you do..."
"Yeah?"
There was a long pause, and Willow frowned. "Giles has been calling frequently as of late," he told her quietly, and her breath caught. "I think he's becoming suspicious of Angel's extended, er, trip, despite that Cordelia and I have been covering." He exhaled softly. "They're terribly worried about you, Willow. They think Spike has killed you."
Willow swallowed thickly. Okay, home wasn't a bad place at all, and she really, really missed it. "Could you maybe see if Angel will let you come up with something that won't make them worry?" she asked hopefully.
She'd already tried to get Wesley to pass something on to the others, but he'd refused to do so without Angel's okay. And while Willow had been more than a little tempted to call or email her friends herself, Angel had pretty much forbidden her to do so. She might have done it anyway, except she didn't think she'd like the consequences, and she knew he was right about them keeping a low profile.
Wesley said he would broach the subject with Angel, and they hung up. Willow went upstairs, only to pause uncertainly at the door to the master bedroom. She wasn't sure if she should go in, or not. Biting her lip, she tentatively rapped on the door. "Angel?" she called out.
A moment later the door opened, and Angel stared down at her. "What do you need?" he asked quietly.
"Wesley needs you to call him," she replied. "And I need an escort." At his confused look, she elaborated. "The blood supply is really low, and all I've got left to eat is bread and Wheetabix."
"Hands off the Wheetabix," Spike growled from in the bedroom.
"Give me a minute," Angel told Willow. "I'll call Wes and then we can go on a supply run."
Willow nodded. "Good. Gives me time to get dressed," she said around a yawn.
Angel frowned down at her with concern, and Willow realized her misstep. Shoot, if she was going to keep the nightmares a secret, she had to stop yawning like that and inviting questions.
"Didn't sleep well?" he asked gently, a look of understanding in his eyes.
Willow blinked, then blushed when she realized what he was talking about. Okay, so it was good that he hadn't realized what she was hiding, but she was a little embarrassed that she'd gotten so used to the pile of vampires.
"Um, I slept fine," she said quickly. "Just...still waking up. I'll go put some clothes on."
With that, she beat a hasty retreat for her tiny room.
*******
Angel was distracted during their trips to the blood bank and the grocery store, so Willow kept silent and wondered what had gone on during his call to Wesley. The fact that he hadn't brought it up didn't bode well. When they got back to the house, he helped her bring the bags into the kitchen and then stood, staring at the floor.
Willow turned towards the counter and stared into the depths of a paper bag. "You're not going to let Wesley tell them anything, are you?" she said quietly.
"No," he said, and she could hear the regret in his voice.
She swallowed thickly. "You're sending me back, aren't you?"
There was no sound to let her know he was moving, but she didn't jump when he took hold of her arm and turned her to face him. She peered up at him and knew his answer. It was written in the tight set of his face and determined eyes. Willow's job was done there, and the rest was up to the vampires to handle.
"Wes is going to research the shield you set up," he said quietly. "If it'll hold up without you having to be near her, then...you'll be able to go home. To Xander and Buffy. I know--"
"I'd better start the laundry," she interrupted him, drawing her arm away from him and heading to the basement door. "I'll finish with the groceries when I come back up."
She ran down the steps, flicking on the lights as she went, and came to a stop at the washing machine. Eyes closed, she braced her hands on the cool metal and hung her head.
*Home is good. I miss home and people and my life.*
A few minutes later, she lifted her head and squared her shoulders. It wasn't so bad. She could leave and readjust back to normal. And that really was the truth. Because she hadn't been getting the cuddles all that long, and she and Spike had just started to become friends when she thought about it. Not close friends, just friends. Who...snuggled. Together. In bed. With three other vampires. Two of who had souls.
"God, my life is so weird," she muttered, taking a breath.
But, Sunnydale life was less weird, and less emotionally dangerous. Most of the time, at least. It also didn't lend towards her developing inappropriate feelings for the bad guys. Because, there? The bad guys tried to kill her. They didn't try to teach her lessons for her own good, or wheedle her into playing cribbage when she really just wanted to go to sleep.
Strangely enough, Sunnydale seemed simple right about then.
*******
Angel slipped into the bedroom, and Spike sat up immediately upon his entering. Angel watched recognition flash in his blue eyes before they settled on the empty spot next to him on the bed. Willow's spot. Frowning, Angel put several bags of blood in the small fridge, closing the door with a muffled slam.
He was doing the right thing. The only thing, really. Sending Willow home would bring the Spike-Willow thing to a halt, and it would keep her safe from whoever had hurt Dev.
The other vampires were all awake now, staring at his looming form curiously. Drusilla frowned, then glided from the bed to stare pensively out the window. Dev's head was swiveling from one of her sires to the other, and Spike had narrowed his eyes on Angel, the taut set of his muscles signaling that he was bracing himself for bad news.
"How are you feeling?" Angel asked Dev.
"Like becoming Willow's personal slave for the rest of her life," their childe replied with an infectious grin. "I don't know what she did, but I feel damn good. Like I wasn't even hurt."
Angel nodded. "You can start feeding normally again, but if you need our blood, just let us know."
"I don't think I will," she said simply.
"Good," Angel said abruptly. He tucked his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor. "We need to know what happened."
"Angel," Spike started to say.
"It's...fine," Dev said, her voice thick. "Better to get it out of the way, yeah?"
"Yeah," Angel heard Spike say reluctantly.
"I don't know who, or what they are," was the first thing she said. "But they're after the Amalgamated." Angel looked up in confusion, and she shook her head. "They didn't realize they had it in their hands."
"Bloody hell, could you make some sense, please?" Spike complained. "Why the hell did they grab you, then?"
"Because of the research," Angel realized, and Dev nodded. The Analects, as he'd told Willow, only told where the actually prophecies were. Dev had spent all of her life tracking down a great many of the texts, scrolls, and objects referenced in the Analects so that she might have what she needed on hand.
"I thought I was being careful enough," she said with a shrug, pushing herself up on the bed and leaning against the headboard. "But I wasn't. They tracked at least four...acquisitions back to me, and figured there must be a reason why I wanted them. Figured I had a line on the Amalgamated." She laughed a little bitterly and drew her knees to her chest. "But I got the last laugh, right?" she drawled darkly. "Had me and lost me. It's poetic, isn't it?"
"Where did they get you, luv?" Spike asked quietly, reaching out to pull her to his side.
"Seattle," she said grimly. "They set me up. I thought I'd finally found a copy of the Hwopf Compendium." She made a choked noise. "I should have known better," she said harshly. "I just should have known."
"No way you could have," Angel denied.
"The fuck there wasn't," Dev snapped. "I've spent a century looking for the damn thing, Angel, and I was too excited to wonder why someone just contacted me out of the blue asking if I knew someone interested in buying it."
Put that way, she was right. She probably should have known better, but he understood where she was coming from. From what they'd learned after her...creation, Hwopf answered a lot of questions about her existence, her purpose. It was the perfect bait. Especially since it was thought to not even exist, as he'd explained to Wesley when he'd learned the ex-Watcher was trying to find it to solve this mystery.
"But they knew," she went on. Her head dropped to Spike's shoulder and her face was hidden by a curtain of purple hair. "They knew things about it. They might actually have the damn thing."
"Where'd they take you, pet? After they got you?" Spike asked her.
Angel would have given him a grateful look for handling the questioning, except that Spike was too focused on Dev to have seen it.
"Some cave," she mumbled against his shoulder. "In the mountains in Washington. Didn't know that until I got out."
Spike nudged her head until she lifted it. "Need some more details," he said.
Her eyes lost focus, then cleared. "Details," she said with determination. "Right. Got me outside of the bookstore they'd lured me to. They're damn well organized, that I know. Tranqued me pretty good from a distance, and waited a few moments until it kicked in and I was out of my head before they surrounded me." She shook her head. "My senses were all shot, so I don't even know what they were. Loaded me in some kind of van and I passed out."
It took effort to stifle his growl; Spike didn't bother. Dev smiled a little at the show of anger, but the smile faded fast. "Woke up in some rock room, chained down to some stone thing. They asked me questions. Basically wanted to know what I knew about the Amalgamated. Did it already exist? Was I trying to make it? Was someone else trying to make it? Didn't answer. Got tortured." She shrugged diffidently. "Repeat ad nauseum."
Angel leaned against the dresser and tried to stay calm. The downplaying was typical Dev. Actually, it was pure Spike and had probably come along with his demon. Sharing wasn't something Dev did very much of, no matter the topic.
His eyes strayed to Drusilla, thinking about Dev's influence of sanity on her, and he frowned when he realized she'd been staring out the window silently this whole time. He crossed to her and touched her hair. "Dru?"
"Sh," she whispered, leaning against him. "Our Devil has a tale to tell and I have secrets to hear."
Satisfied that Drusilla was as all right as she got, he pulled up the dining room chair they'd brought into the room a while back and sat by the side of the bed. "Tell me about who was keeping you," he requested of Dev.
"Nothing I can tell you about that," she said, and anger pinched her features and darkened her eyes. "They were cloaked. Not just literally, either. Magically. Might as well have not been there for all I could sense them. Don't know if they were human, demon, neither or both." She closed her eyes and seemed to force herself to calm down. "I think there were about eight of them, but I could be completely off."
"How did you get out of there?" Spike asked curiously. "Especially in the shape you were in?"
She smiled grimly. "They had two rooms for the torture," she told them flatly. "One for the physical, one for the magical stuff. I played up being weak--not that I wasn't, but I was stronger than I let on--and surprised them when they were taking me from one room to the other." Her brow knitted in frustrated confusion. "I don't...I don't remember much after that. I wandered out of the cave and found a road. Stole a car and saw a sign for Washington. Gets kind of blurry from there. Just knew I had to get to Los Angeles."
Silence fell as Angel absorbed that. "Cave's probably cleared out by now," Spike said abruptly, and Angel looked at him. "But that cloaking...not a common ability. Might be able to get a lead out of it."
Angel nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll have Wes look into it."
Spike's gaze sharpened. "Why not Willow?" he asked carefully. "And why isn't she here for this?"
Lowering his hand from his neck, Angel met Spike's eyes squarely. "Because I'm sending her home," he said firmly.
And this was where the problem would be. Not with Willow, even though it affected her, but with Spike. And with Drusilla, who turned from the window at his words and glared ferociously at him.
"You stupid wanker," Spike growled, letting go of Dev and getting to his feet. "That's the last bloody thing you should be doing. How the hell are we supposed to protect her if she's not with us?"
Dru bared her teeth and hissed at him. "The stars are screaming."
"To hell with the stars," Angel snapped. "She's done all she can here and she's better off in Sunnydale now. This isn't up for debate."
"Think, you ponce," Spike snarled at him. "You heard Dru's vision, just like the rest of us. It's not going to change just because she's not with us." He tossed his hands in the air and made a sound of frustration. "You're sending her off unprotected."
"Buffy is more than capable of protecting her, if it comes down to that," Angel growled. "Dru's vision might not even come to pass if she's not involved any more."
Spike stared at him incredulously. "Do you honestly believe that?" he choked out. "That's not how it works. And Willow knows it, too. I can't even imagine how you're going to convince her to go."
Angel crossed his arms. "She's already agreed."
*******
The living room was dark and empty, much to Spike's surprise. He strode into the dining room and found Willow sitting in front of her laptop, frowning at the screen. He tilted his head to the side, not seeing any trace that she had a problem with leaving.
"Think it'll be that easy?" he snapped irately.
She jumped, a startled squeak tumbling from her lips. ""Spike? Huh? What are you talking about?" she stammered.
He stalked forward and leaned over her, one hand braced on the table and the other wrapped around the back of her chair. He knew he had to look furious, but she just stared at him in confusion. "Think leaving will stop it?" he asked her tightly.
She leaned away from him, still seemingly not understanding what he was talking about. "Spike..."
"Your 'not really' death," he said clearly, taking hold of a wrist and hauling her to her feet. "Thought you would have known better than most that you can't run."
She jerked her wrist and he tightened his grip. "Let me go, Spike," she said flatly, and something potentially dangerous slid behind her eyes. "I mean it."
Spike arch a brow, waited one long moment, then slowly released her wrist. She didn't step away from him, however, just looked up at him with green eyes that weren't in the least angry, or hurt, or scared. "I'm leaving because Angel is making me," she told him calmly. "And because my friends are tearing themselves to pieces thinking I'm dead. I'm *not* running."
"That's a technicality," he snapped.
To his shock, she nodded in agreement. "You're right," she said with a sigh, a small smile flittering across her face. "I know how it works. So do you. I can't get away from it, no matter what I do. I'm walking right towards it and it doesn't matter what choices are made, because they've *already* been made."
He closed his eyes in frustration. "Willow--"
"Stop," she said firmly, and he opened his eyes again. "I can't do this, Spike. I can't discuss it and dissect it and try to figure it out. I can't."
And he saw it then, the quickly pushed aside fear, and he realized how she'd managed to keep going so far. "Also can't ignore it forever," he said softly. "Not going to have that option after a while, either."
She brought her hands to her face and pressed her palms against her forehead. "I know," she breathed shakily. "But I'll do it as long as I can."
He took her hands from her face and looked into her lost eyes.
A harsh laugh issued from her and Spike had to force himself not to tighten his hands around hers for fear of hurting her. "Nothing I do, or say, or think, or understand matters," she said, her voice high-pitched and a little frantic. "So I won't. Do or think or try to understand. Because it'll happen anyway and all I can do is wait for it."
He did tighten his hands then. They'd fucked it all up. Despite their best intentions, they'd let her down in the worst possible way. They'd accepted her pretense of acceptance, had let her go on dealing with the truth by not dealing with it. Even after Angel had given all of them hell for it, they'd done it. And Angel was taking it a step further by sending her away.
Spike let go of one of her hands and grabbed her chin none-too-gently. "That's where you're wrong," he said intently.
She shook her head in his grip, and he knew that somewhere inside of her she needed to hear what he was about to say, because she wasn't trying to get away, just staring up at him with eyes that were scared and desperate. Oh, hell, they had really fucked up and it made his stomach clench.
"You set the terms, luv," he told her forcefully. "No matter what, you make it happen on your terms. And you damn well know how to do it, Will. You manipulate others out of the Watcher's and then pin a vampire to a wall and show him what you're capable of. You *don't* wait until he's got his fangs to your throat to make him think twice."
She went still, frowning up at him. "But...it's not the same thing," she said uncertainly. "I could have stopped you even if you'd come after me. No matter what I do here, it changes nothing."
It was Spike's turn to shake his head. "It's the choice that matters. You chose to do that on your terms, and you can do this on your terms." He drew her closer by way of his hold on her chin, and brought his face closer to hers. "Damn well don't lie there and take it like some passive weakling," he hissed. "You're better than that, stronger than that."
She blinked, and her free hand went to his chest, clenching a fistful of his t-shirt. "I don't know if I am," she said smally.
"Yes, you are," he said quietly. "Seen it in you a dozen times over."
Her eyelids slid down. "I'm so tired," she admitted softly.
Of course she was. How the hell couldn't she be? She lived in a town where letting her guard down was deadly. She couldn't walk outside after sunset without fear. Couldn't call out an absent "come in" when someone knocked. She was targeted because of her association with the Slayer. She'd spent the last four and half years wary, constantly alert, and on her toes, able only to relax when the sun was up, and that wasn't even a guarantee.
He pressed his forehead against hers. "That's where we come in," he whispered. "Let you rest so you're not so tired when it counts, yeah?"
She swayed forward, and just as her body was about to come to rest against his, she stiffened and pulled away. Spike raised his head and frowned down at her as she took a step back. "I've already got a family," she told him. "They miss me and they're worried and I need them."
Spike felt like she'd slapped him, and damned if he actually knew why. "Fine, then," he said curtly, turning and leaving the room.
*******
Willow curled up on her bed and tried not to shake. In the basement earlier, she'd thought that going home would still be easy. But now she knew better, and she was so damn angry at Spike for cornering her in the dining room and making her realize just what it was going to be like. She remembered when she'd agreed to be Dru's safe place, remembered thinking that it might be difficult to disentangle herself.
Difficult was proving to be an understatement. Because even though she understood and agreed with Angel sending her away, it stung. And it had been so tempting, so very tempting to listen to Spike. To fall against him and rest completely, gather her strength in reality the way she could in her safe place while she was sleeping. But she knew she couldn't, because Angel was sending her away, and letting go like that for even a minute would make leaving devastating.
Dawn had come and gone by now, and she was bone weary. So tired and drained that she wanted to cry. But she felt like she couldn't do that, either. She hadn't cried in so long that she had the feeling it would take hours before she'd get it all out. Maybe even days.
And, damn it, nothing had been this complicated or painful just thirty-two hours ago. Things had been clear and simple. But since Dev had woken up, things had changed a thousand times. Angel was already cutting her out of the loop, Spike was back to trying to teach her lessons, and Willow just wanted things to go back to normal. Before Dev woke up normal, or before this trip normal. She didn't care which.
Sighing in frustration, she got out of bed and grabbed her pillow and blanket. Getting to sleep in this room was going to be impossible, and she desperately needed to sleep. Stumbling from exhaustion, she made her way downstairs and the couch. Lying down with something solid on one side of her was better than being adrift in her single bed. And maybe she could wean herself off the need to be bracketed. Start with the couch and just one bracket, and eventually get to no brackets.
Tossing uncomfortably, Willow feared it might be a decade or so before she reached that point.
*******
"For the last time, what happened?"
Spike stared up at the ceiling and continued to ignore Angel as he'd done for the past ten minutes. Bad move. Apparently, he'd pissed Angel off enough times already. The hand that latched around his neck meant business, and the hold was impossible to break. Spike was left with no choice but to be dragged out of the bedroom and down the stairs, through the kitchen and down to the basement.
The basement wasn't a good sign. Meant Angel was intending to get him to talk in any way possible, and didn't want Willow overhearing. Bloody fucking hell.
Once they descended the stairs, Angel shoved him to the floor and glowered down at him. "I've let you get away with not answering a hell of a lot concerning Willow, but I'm done," he said icily. "Tell me why you came back upstairs looking ready to kill something."
Spike considered whether or not he wanted to anger Angel further by getting to his feet, and decided that he did. Angel's face darkened as Spike slowly stood up, a smirk on his face and his eyes locked with Angel's. Just to add fuel to the fire, he drawled, "None of your business."
Angel's fist was a blur that Spike managed to only partially avoid, and he grinned as he felt blood trickle from his nose. He was playing with fire here and guaranteed to get incinerated, but he just didn't give a fuck. They fought for a while, and Angel had the upper hand the entire time. Spike was working on anger and he knew it. He knew that he wasn't paying attention to blocking or setting up his own punches. Knew and didn't give a fuck about that either. But Angel got fed up pretty quickly, and Spike found himself on the floor on his stomach, both hands pulled behind his back and Angel pressing a knee against his spine.
"You're not in control here, Spike," Angel growled down at him. "Not in any way, shape, or form. I want answers, and I want them now."
"Sod off," Spike spat, one side of his face getting scraped by the concrete floor. "This isn't even real anyhow."
And he felt Angel shift, heard the silky, infuriated words get whispered right against his ear. "What's real is that I am stronger than you are. I always have been. I always will be. Everything else can get flushed down the toilet, and that will remain. Tell. Me. What. I. Want. To. Know."
Spike kept silent and braced himself for more violence, more pain. Instead, Angel flipped him over, pinning his wrists over his head, and just stared down at him with that scrutinizing gaze of his. And Spike didn't look away, because the only answers he had to give were there to see, and maybe Angel would know what they were better than he did.
Lids slid down over dark brown eyes in a show of frustrated understanding, and he released Spike and sat on the floor tiredly. "There are times," Angel said wearily, "when I want to strangle Dru for turning you, William." Spike flinched and was about to get up when Angel continued. "Right about now, some simple, vapid moron would be a pleasure to deal with."
Thinking that over, Spike couldn't fault him for that. There were times when he wished that he *were* simple and vapid. Made life easier.
"We done?" he asked flatly.
"Not even close," Angel sighed. "What happened tonight?"
Spike sat up and ran his hands through his hair. "She's got a defeatist attitude about it," he said with a shrug. "Never seen in it her before, and it shouldn't be there now. Not if we'd done things right and proper."
Angel rubbed his forehead. "You called her on it?"
"Yeah." He really didn't know how to continue from there, quite honestly. Didn't know what about the entire scene in the dining room bothered him the most. "Said she was tired, and I told her it was our job to help her with it."
"What did she say to that?"
Looking past Angel, he shrugged. "That the Slayer and gang missed her and she needed them."
"I see," Angel said quietly.
Spike turned his eyes back to the other vampire. "Do you?" he asked archly. "Because I don't. We can take better care of her than they can, but she doesn't want to admit that and you just want her gone."
"You really think that's what's got you ready to slaughter something?" Angel shot back at him, his eyes hard. "Do you honestly believe this--" He gestured around them with his hand. "--was about where she'll be *safer*?"
That was the crux of it. He wasn't sure. "What else would it be about, eh?" he asked casually. "Me and Dru seem to be the only ones--"
"Spike, cut the shit," Angel snapped. Spike blinked at him. "I'm not asking for the truth, because god knows you don't even know what that is yet, but don't feed me the half-assed lies you're feeding yourself." He frowned, and his eyes were shuttered. "She's not leaving to reject...us. And if you honestly have *her* interests in mind, you'll realize it's for the best."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Spike snapped.
Angel didn't answer right away, and when he did, Spike thought there was a lot more that wasn't being said. Or that he wasn't hearing. "She's not one of us, Spike. No matter what we've been playing at to get along. I don't even need to know what happened when you two went for that walk to know that we're not the influence she needs."
Spike narrowed his eyes. "You've noticed it, too?" he said with surprise, though he wasn't sure why he was surprised. Angel certainly had more history with Willow, and wasn't nearly as dumb as he sometimes acted.
"Yes," Angel said grimly. "Nothing like seeing her vamped to get a taste for what she's capable of, given the wrong set of circumstances."
That threw Spike for a minute until he remembered having heard a couple of off-hand comments from Willow and the others about some vampire version of her from another reality.
"Doesn't change my original point," Spike grunted. "Which *is* valid. Dru's vision will play out, no matter where she is."
Angel lowered his brows. "And my point remains valid, too: Buffy is more than capable of doing what needs to be done to protect Willow should the need arise."
Spike arched a brow. "Yeah, mate? And do you intend to tell her and her Watcher about Dev? Put the news out there so that the bastards who got her know that she's what they were after to begin with?"
"Give me a little credit, Spike," Angel said with displeasure, and that was good enough.
"So, she's going home, then," Spike said quietly, looking away from a probing look Angel was sending him. "I'll talk with Dru, see about getting her calmed down."
Angel got to his feet and held out a hand to Spike. "Let's get back upstairs."
Spike let Angel help him up, and they trudged up to the kitchen and then towards the stairs. The sound of a heartbeat coming from the living room stopped them, however, especially since the entire downstairs was dark. They crept through the dining room, and edged into the living room, stopping in surprise when they saw Willow on the sofa.
She was pressed against the back of her, her face buried against the cushion and one arm looped over the top. Even in the gloom he could see that her limb wasn't simply resting on top of the sofa back; she was clutching it, holding it. He stared, watching as her legs twitched until she crooked them and jammed her knees against the unyielding sofa back. He'd had her knees jammed against him on more than one occasion due to the cramped sleeping space the bed had afforded the five of them.
He couldn't look away, and he didn't know that he'd made a move towards her until Angel took hold of his arm.
"Spike." It took a great deal of effor to turns his gaze to the other vampire. "Let's go upstairs," Angel said sedately.
Spike blinked, then nodded, following Angel out of the room and up the stairs.
*******
Angel woke up feeling disoriented. Eyes still closed, he tried to figure out what was throwing him off. After a moment, he realized that there wasn't a heat emitting Willow to his left, and the memory of the previous night returned. His eyes flew open and he tilted his head down to stare at Dev.
Her eyes were open and she was watching him. "Hi," she said, her voice deeper than he was accustomed to hearing.
"Hi," he said with a smile. "How are you?"
Dev shook her head. "I'm good." She gave him a wry grin. "I'd be better if Spike wasn't so restless over on your other side, but beggars can't be choosers."
Angel cut his eyes to his left, and saw Spike's furrowed brow. Generally, Willow was situated between him and Spike, with Dev and then Drusilla on Angel's right side. He had a fuzzy memory of Willow bringing them blood and then slipping out of the room.
"How long have I been...out?" Dev asked him quietly, and Angel looked down at her again.
"A little over a month."
She blinked. "That's all? I thought it would take longer."
Angel shrugged, the movement awkward because of the way she was lying on his arm. "Willow helped with that. Do you feel weak?"
A frown came to her face, then she seemed to shake it off. "Only a little bit," she said with some surprise. "Like I haven't been eating properly." She narrowed her eyes on him. "I should be in a lot worse shape."
"Willow," Angel said again, then reached out to shake Spike. "Wake up. Dev needs to eat."
Spike groaned and pried his eyes open, confusion settling into them. "What?" he mumbled, sitting up. He stared at the empty space next to him, then looked at Angel, who just tilted his head down to gesture at Dev. "Bloody hell, it's good to see your eyes open," Spike said to her with a grin.
Angel watched her smile with something like wonder, then reach out and touch Spike's face. "It's good to have my eyes open and...see this little scene I never thought I'd see." Her dark blue eyes twinkled. "One big happy family. I think I might tear up."
Spike snorted. "Don't get sappy on us, luv. You give me hope for the souled set, what with your blood thirst and utter brutality."
Drusilla stirred on Dev's other side, boneless body wafting up as she pushed her tussled hair from her face. She grinned down at Dev delightedly, pulling their childe to her and cradling her against her breast.
"Our Devil is back," she sighed contentedly, but then a frown pulled at her brow as her eyes scanned the bed. She made a small, discontented sound at Willow's absence and pulled Dev closer.
"I'll get some blood," Angel said, sitting up and sliding down the bed. He was damned tired, and looking at the others, he knew they were as well. Questioning Dev would have to wait until they could blink without being tempted to sleep.
Getting to his feet, he pulled his shirt off and kicked his shoes off. Padding downstairs, he found Willow in the kitchen, leaning with her back against a counter, desperately drinking coffee. Her face was pale, with a grayish cast to it, and she had deep shadows under her eyes. She was still wearing her clothes from the night before.
"Hey," she said when she saw him, her voice raspy and raw. "How's Dev doing?"
Angel tilted his head to the side. "Good," he said absently. "Are you all right? You look kind of...tired."
He was being nice with the assessment. She looked exhausted and haggard, to be honest.
Willow took a sip of coffee. "I stayed up for a while in case you guys needed anything," she said tiredly. "I think I stayed up too late, because then I got too tired to sleep and now I'm just...blargh." She flashed him a weak smile and held up her cup. "But, you know, coffee. Helps."
He thought she wasn't being quite honest with him because of the way she avoided looking at him, and Angel frowned, but let it go at that. Most likely she hadn't been able to sleep in her solitary bed again; he knew the feeling. After leaving Darla and the others for the final time after the soul, it had taken him weeks to adjust to being alone. Then he'd had to go through the readjustment again after he, Spike and Drusilla had spent all that time with Dev. He really wasn't looking forward to doing it again once this was over.
"Try to sleep," he suggested, going to the refrigerator. "We'll be doing the same after we feed Dev."
Willow crossed the room to the sink and took the black carafe from last night out of the dish rack and handed it to him. "If I sleep now, my whole sleep schedule will be out of whack. Besides, I'm overdue for laundry."
Angel pulled several bags of blood out and close the refrigerator door. Willow passed him an empty mug when he cut open a pouch, and he slipped it into the microwave. They worked together silently, compatibly, to heat up five bags and add them to the carafe.
When he headed out of the room, Willow followed, carrying several mugs. Angel tossed her a questioning look and she shrugged, yawning widely. "Figure I can do those sheets while I'm at it," she said. "They're kind of bloody and stuff."
Angel paused at the foot of the steps leading upstairs and stared down at her. "Thank you," he said quietly.
She blinked once, then smiled. "They're just some sheets, Angel. No need to get all emotional about them," she teased him, her eyes twinkling, albeit mutedly due to her fatigue.
His lips quirked, and he reached out with the hand not holding the carafe to cup her cheek in his palm. "I mean it," he insisted. "I don't know how long it would have taken for Dev to get better if you hadn't helped, or how long we would have had to keep running."
She lifted her shoulders in a dismissive shrug. "You're welcome, but it wasn't that big of a deal. Just a little mojo here and there. Simple, even."
Thinking about what they'd been through, what they still didn't know, what might or might not be happening between her and Spike, and what they had yet to go through, Angel didn't think that "simple" entered into the equation at all.
Mentally shaking his head at what the Hellmouth had taught this young woman about simple, he started upstairs, Willow trailing behind him.
In the master bedroom, Spike was sprawled on the bed, legs crossed at the ankles and one arm tucked under his head while he smoked and watched the two women slowly walking around the room. Drusilla was supporting a slightly wobbly Dev by way of an arm around her waist. The t-shirt she had on was one of Spike's black numbers, and it hit her about mid-thigh. Her hair was a mass of purple tangles and was sticking out in all directions. She was a sight for sore eyes, that was for sure.
Spike's eyes flickered to Angel and Willow, and he motioned to the copper bowl on the bedside table while he put out his cigarette and set his ashtray aside. Angel sniffed quickly and realized that he and Dru had already put their portions in. Willow shifted the mugs around in her hands until they dangled from three fingers of one of her hands, then took the carafe from him and crossed to the dresser.
"Look like shit, pet," Spike commented to her as she poured blood into each of the mugs.
Angel cut into his wrist and held the copper bowl under it. Willow glared at Spike, which just made him smirk, then offered Dev and Drusilla a smile. "Hi guys."
Dev lifted a hand in greeting, continuing her slow circuit around the room. Vampires' muscles couldn't atrophy from non-use the way humans' could, but they could get painfully stiff after such a long period of inactivity and the more she walked at the moment, the better off she would be.
"That's precious," Drusilla said to Dev, leaning down and pressing a kiss on her cheek. "She's ours."
Dev stared at Willow and blinked. "All right," she said neutrally, then smiled gratefully when Angel brushed Drusilla aside and helped her to a chair. She took the bowl from him and drank it down quickly, a light hint of gold entering her eyes.
"Hurry it up with the blood, wench," Spike called out cheerfully to Willow.
Angel rubbed his forehead and took the empty bowl from Dev. Willow was too tired to have any patience for him, and Angel was too tired from all the blood donations the previous night to have any patience for the inevitable argument that would follow.
"Spike," he said warningly.
The blonde exhaled a plume of smoke and arched a brow. "Angel," he said in the same tone.
With a silent groan, Angel realized that he'd forgotten just how obnoxious Spike could get when he was in a good mood.
"Spike, why don't you do something useful," Willow grumbled. "Strip--"
"Willow, I'm shocked!" Spike gasped.
"--the bed, you idiot," she finished with another glare and a yawn. She waved a mug in his general direction, then held it behind her back. "No blood for you until you do."
Angel groaned when he saw the way Spike's eyes glowed at that. Oh, hell. Willow wasn't expecting it, mainly because she hadn't yet seen Spike in a mood like this since this had started. If Angel were to hazard a guess, he'd say that she was expecting a volley of half-hearted insults to get traded before Spike went ahead and stripped the bed--probably shredding the sheets in the process.
Instead, Spike was on his feet and across the room before she could blink. In fact, the mug had been divested of her hand and she'd been tossed onto the bed before she realized that he'd moved. Willow landed with a thump, arms and legs akimbo as she stared at Spike in total incomprehension.
A smirk slid across Spike's face, and she began scrambling backwards, her fear scenting the air. Angel narrowed his eyes on Spike and snapped, "Cut it out. Now."
The blonde ignored him, pouncing at the bed and grabbing Willow from behind, one arm around her waist and trapping her hands at her side, and the other pressed against her throat. Angel could see her eyes, could see that she didn't realize this was just Spike feeling...well, playful. Which he was, because his eyes were sparkling mischievously as he bent his head and set his mouth near her ear. But Willow was facing away from him, and all she knew were the arms holding her in place, the face coming too close to her neck for comfort.
"Not nice to keep blood from a hungry vampire, pet," he murmured.
"That's enough," Angel growled when Willow's heart rate picked up. Spike was too caught up in his little game to realize that she wasn't playing along, and just rolled his eyes. Angel strode across the room and curled a hand tightly through Spike's short hair. "Damn it, Spike, you're scaring her."
Spike blinked slowly, then cocked his head to the side. The amusement fled from his face and he sucked in a breath and then slowly released Willow. She pushed herself forward, and Angel lifted her off the bed, setting her on her feet and taking hold of her face.
"That would be Spike in a good mood. It doesn't translate well," he told her gently. She was shaking just a little, but her heart had slowed down and the fear had eased away. Angel tilted her face up and stared down at her until she seemed to have processed that. "Nothing's changed. You're safe with us."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spike get to his feet and start to come their way. A quick glare had the younger vampire coming to a stop, his jaw clenched as he looked at them.
"I know," Willow said, sighing. The last hint of trepidation left her and she shook her head. "I completely overreacted. I'm just--"
"Exhausted and not thinking too clearly," Angel finished with a nod. "I know. Forget about the sheets--we'll trash them. Get some sleep, and that's not a request."
Her eyes flickered to Dev and Drusilla, who had watched everything with wide eyes. "But what if you need--"
"Sleep," he repeated, moving his hold to her shoulders and turning her towards the door. He gave her a little nudge. "Now."
"Fine, but I'm going to eat something first," she said ill-temperedly, almost stomping away. Angel let her get away with the small show of defiance because he knew she'd obey him and get some sleep. Before she left the room, however, she turned back and her eyes sought Spike. He returned the look with guarded eyes that Angel knew hid his regret for the little stunt. Her head tilted to the side, and then she quirked a brow just as a mug of blood emptied itself on Spike's head. "We're even," she called out as she fled the room.
Spike stood next to the bed, blood dripping down his wide-eyed, slack jawed face. Anger followed shock, only to be replaced almost instantly by wry amusement. "Bloody hell," he muttered as he grabbed hold of the top sheet on the bed and wiped his face.
Angel listened to Willow make her way downstairs and into the kitchen. Moving quickly, he grabbed hold of Spike's throat and pulled him up on his toes.
"Back off," Spike snarled. "I didn't know she was half asleep."
Angel pulled him closer. "You should have," he barked. "Just like you should have noticed she was scared." He shoved Spike away and glared at him. "You reminded me of my responsibilities, and now I'm reminding you of yours," he went on coldly. "This is the *second* time I've seen you needlessly scare her, and it *will* be the last. Understand me?"
Spike resentfully dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Yeah, got it," he said flatly.
"Get a clean set of sheets in here," Angel said tightly, moving to start stripping the bed. "And leave your little attitude in the hall when you come back in."
The vampire's exit from the room was similar to Willow's, what with the stomping, and Angel clenched his jaw.
"What the hell is going on?" Dev asked with confusion. "Spike just *listened* to you. He never listens to you. Or anyone."
Angel cut a glance in her direction and saw that she was sitting alone now, Drusilla having gone to the dresser to get blood for herself. "You saw him listen to me once before," he reminded her, balling the sheets up and tossing them in a corner.
Dev nodded slowly, her eyes watching him carefully as he joined Drusilla at the dresser for his own mug of blood. "That was different, though," she said very slowly. She paused, and her next words were laced with a million questions. "We were family."
Angel nodded, just once. "For now, we are again."
Sapphire eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "All right," she said, just as she'd said when Drusilla had proclaimed Willow theirs.
Dru clapped her hands happily, spinning in circles. "We're in a play, sweetness," she laughed. "Only we're not." She twirled a stop and dropped her chin to her chest, her glittering eyes lifting to look at Dev. "It's deliciously twisted."
"All right," Dev said again, and Angel guessed that was going to be her response to everything that wasn't quite clear enough for her tastes.
Spike came back in with the sheets, tossing them on the bed and making a beeline for the blood. Angel noticed the remnants of the cup Willow had dumped on him were now gone, so he must have washed up in the bathroom.
With quick motions, Angel made the bed and motioned everyone towards it. "When we're rested, we'll talk," he said to the room at large, setting in the middle. Everyone joined him, Drusilla helping a still-unsteady Dev, and Spike flouncing down with a grunt.
Dev was asleep almost immediately, and Dru followed not long after, wrapped around their childe. Angel kept his exhaustion at bay, waiting on Spike to fall asleep before succumbing himself. It was something he'd always done as patriarch, a small thing that had always seemed right. Make sure the others were taken care of before he took care of himself. But Spike, despite having to be as tired as the rest of them were, was restless.
He tossed. He turned. He kept himself confined to a very small space just this side of the edge of the bed, as though Willow was still there. Even though she wasn't, which was why he was having a problem falling asleep if Angel was right. After what seemed like an eternity, the blonde finally fell asleep despite himself, and Angel muttered a small prayer of thanks and went to sleep as well.
*******
Down the hall, Willow stumbled into the room she hadn't used in well over a week, her stomach appeased by the chips she'd fed it, and changed into her pajamas. She hadn't been entirely truthful with Angel about why she hadn't slept. True, she'd been concerned that they might need something, but she'd also not wanted to contemplate her empty room, either.
But there was no way around it, because Dev waking up had changed things. Maybe not a huge amount, but enough. Looking down at the four vampires the previous night, she'd realized that her place wasn't with them. They were family, bound by blood in ways that were more complex and a lot deeper than biological bonds. She was just the girl who was helping them. That entitled her to a lot, but it didn't entirely include her, and she understood it.
Sighing, she lay down and experimented with stretching out. It felt strange, to say the least. She was used to having a very small amount of space in which to sleep, and being bracketed on both sides by strong bodies. She felt adrift in her single bed, like it was an ocean and she was a little, tiny buoy among the vastness of water. She felt...vulnerable. Shivering slightly, she took the blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around herself, almost binding herself with it. It helped just slightly, but in the end it didn't matter, because her body was running on empty and it didn't care about who was or was not next to her.
When she fell asleep, she slid right into the nightmares. If she' d had legs in the dream--if her body had been present in it the way her mind was-- she would have collapsed from the onslaught of images. Scalpels being displayed for her to see by cloaked figures. Hands and feet being manacle to some kind of surface. She heard screams and crying, smelled raw flesh that she knew was her own. Felt a pain unlike any she'd ever experienced as her back was sliced away one inch at a time.
For the first time since Drusilla had shown Willow her safe spot, Willow had to retreat there. She pulled away from the nightmare, pulled as hard and desperately as she could, and it sped up, the pain crashing around her, each moment flowing so quickly into another that they overlapped and didn't give her a moment to breathe.
She stopped pulling and just screamed, over and over again, choking when she saw her skinned back being held up for her to see. And that's what did it. The skin. It wasn't hers, and she knew it. These weren't her memories. This hadn't happened to her.
And she didn't have to stay there. She pulled back again, putting everything in her behind the motion, and suddenly found herself in the living room of the house. On the sofa. Spike's back was braced against the arm, and Willow was nestled between his thighs. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and one of his legs was curled on top of her thighs. He was encircling her. Sighing, she leaned back and moments later had retreated to a dreamless sleep that, unfortunately, didn't last long.
She woke up gasping for breath, not feeling rested in the least, and deciding against trying to sleep again. For some reason, she'd kept drifting from her safe place back into the nightmare and she wasn't eager to repeat the process any more. Sighing, she got out of bed and dragged herself downstairs for yet more coffee. In the kitchen, she saw the time and was surprised to see that it was only midnight. Angel had come downstairs at around seven, which meant that she'd headed to bed sometime around eight. She would have thought she'd sleep longer, even with the dreams.
Sighing tiredly, she took a breath and pushed all thoughts of the nightmares from her mind. She didn't know how to get rid of them. Or, rather, she didn't know a way that wouldn't expose her to whoever was sending them. Right now they were generalized, directed at Dev's last known location, in a way. There was no way they could track Willow directly right now. But if she tried to actively block or stop what they were doing, it would give them a path to her directly. And that would be bad. Just very bad.
After making the coffee and some toast, she stood at the counter and wondered what would happen now. With Dev up and recovered, would Angel send Willow back to Sunnydale? With a start, she realized she wasn't as pleased at the idea as she should have been. Strange as everything had been over the last few weeks, she'd kind of grown to like it.
Also, there was no denying the fact that she would miss Spike. Even her denial had its limits. After all, they'd spent so much time together. True, he still managed to annoy and disgust her. But away from the Scoobies, and with her current status, he'd also made her laugh, and she'd never been able to talk to anyone the way she could talk to Spike.
With him, she didn't have to censor anything for a lower reading level. And, yeah, she felt kind of bad thinking that her friends needed to have things...uh, dumbed down at times, but they did. Even if Spike didn't know about something, all it took was an overview for him to get the entire picture. While they might not agree on every point--or any, actually--Spike never made her feel like an idiot for thinking anything. As long as she had an actual reason, of course. And, truthfully, she'd actually begun second- guessing some things, mainly due to the way he'd forced her to validate her opinions every chance he got.
Going home would mean leaving behind thought-provoking conversations. Not to mention cuddly vampires, which she was far too addicted to if her difficulty falling asleep earlier was any indication.
But it was more than just Spike, truthfully. Or even the cuddles. She felt accepted with the vampires. Fully accepted. As in, no matter what, they'd be on her side. It was nice to not worry that a choice or opinion would cause her to be cast out. Not that she thought Buffy, or Xander would do that. But she had a *guarantee* that the vampires wouldn't.
She was startled from her thoughts by the ringing of the phone. Quickly swallowing the last of her toast, she sipped from her coffee as she hurried into the living room to answer the phone.
"Hey Wesley," she answered; he was the only one who had the number.
"Willow," he greeted her. "How is everything?"
"Dev woke up!" Willow informed him.
"That's excellent news. I'm afraid that mine isn't as good, though."
Willow sighed. She'd had a feeling this was coming. "You don't think it has to do with the Analects, do you?" she guessed.
"No," Wesley admitted tiredly. "However, I do believe it has to do with the Amalgamated. Unfortunately, I've not been able to find anything on that front."
"Nothing?" Willow repeated, a nagging suspicion coming to the fore of her mind. "I think Dev probably horded it all. Maybe the others, too."
Wesley made a noise of agreement. "I can't even find what her purpose is, though the records I've translated thus far indicated she's a Champion in her own right. But that seems too..."
"Straightforward for a prophetic creation?" Willow finished perkily.
"Indeed," he drawled. "I think I need to speak with Angel. See what he thinks our next move should be."
"All right. I'll have him call you."
Wesley chuckled. "Still haven't found the cordless? Or at least its remains?"
"No," she grumbled. "I think Spike covered his tracks. Let me go wake Angel."
"Before you do..."
"Yeah?"
There was a long pause, and Willow frowned. "Giles has been calling frequently as of late," he told her quietly, and her breath caught. "I think he's becoming suspicious of Angel's extended, er, trip, despite that Cordelia and I have been covering." He exhaled softly. "They're terribly worried about you, Willow. They think Spike has killed you."
Willow swallowed thickly. Okay, home wasn't a bad place at all, and she really, really missed it. "Could you maybe see if Angel will let you come up with something that won't make them worry?" she asked hopefully.
She'd already tried to get Wesley to pass something on to the others, but he'd refused to do so without Angel's okay. And while Willow had been more than a little tempted to call or email her friends herself, Angel had pretty much forbidden her to do so. She might have done it anyway, except she didn't think she'd like the consequences, and she knew he was right about them keeping a low profile.
Wesley said he would broach the subject with Angel, and they hung up. Willow went upstairs, only to pause uncertainly at the door to the master bedroom. She wasn't sure if she should go in, or not. Biting her lip, she tentatively rapped on the door. "Angel?" she called out.
A moment later the door opened, and Angel stared down at her. "What do you need?" he asked quietly.
"Wesley needs you to call him," she replied. "And I need an escort." At his confused look, she elaborated. "The blood supply is really low, and all I've got left to eat is bread and Wheetabix."
"Hands off the Wheetabix," Spike growled from in the bedroom.
"Give me a minute," Angel told Willow. "I'll call Wes and then we can go on a supply run."
Willow nodded. "Good. Gives me time to get dressed," she said around a yawn.
Angel frowned down at her with concern, and Willow realized her misstep. Shoot, if she was going to keep the nightmares a secret, she had to stop yawning like that and inviting questions.
"Didn't sleep well?" he asked gently, a look of understanding in his eyes.
Willow blinked, then blushed when she realized what he was talking about. Okay, so it was good that he hadn't realized what she was hiding, but she was a little embarrassed that she'd gotten so used to the pile of vampires.
"Um, I slept fine," she said quickly. "Just...still waking up. I'll go put some clothes on."
With that, she beat a hasty retreat for her tiny room.
*******
Angel was distracted during their trips to the blood bank and the grocery store, so Willow kept silent and wondered what had gone on during his call to Wesley. The fact that he hadn't brought it up didn't bode well. When they got back to the house, he helped her bring the bags into the kitchen and then stood, staring at the floor.
Willow turned towards the counter and stared into the depths of a paper bag. "You're not going to let Wesley tell them anything, are you?" she said quietly.
"No," he said, and she could hear the regret in his voice.
She swallowed thickly. "You're sending me back, aren't you?"
There was no sound to let her know he was moving, but she didn't jump when he took hold of her arm and turned her to face him. She peered up at him and knew his answer. It was written in the tight set of his face and determined eyes. Willow's job was done there, and the rest was up to the vampires to handle.
"Wes is going to research the shield you set up," he said quietly. "If it'll hold up without you having to be near her, then...you'll be able to go home. To Xander and Buffy. I know--"
"I'd better start the laundry," she interrupted him, drawing her arm away from him and heading to the basement door. "I'll finish with the groceries when I come back up."
She ran down the steps, flicking on the lights as she went, and came to a stop at the washing machine. Eyes closed, she braced her hands on the cool metal and hung her head.
*Home is good. I miss home and people and my life.*
A few minutes later, she lifted her head and squared her shoulders. It wasn't so bad. She could leave and readjust back to normal. And that really was the truth. Because she hadn't been getting the cuddles all that long, and she and Spike had just started to become friends when she thought about it. Not close friends, just friends. Who...snuggled. Together. In bed. With three other vampires. Two of who had souls.
"God, my life is so weird," she muttered, taking a breath.
But, Sunnydale life was less weird, and less emotionally dangerous. Most of the time, at least. It also didn't lend towards her developing inappropriate feelings for the bad guys. Because, there? The bad guys tried to kill her. They didn't try to teach her lessons for her own good, or wheedle her into playing cribbage when she really just wanted to go to sleep.
Strangely enough, Sunnydale seemed simple right about then.
*******
Angel slipped into the bedroom, and Spike sat up immediately upon his entering. Angel watched recognition flash in his blue eyes before they settled on the empty spot next to him on the bed. Willow's spot. Frowning, Angel put several bags of blood in the small fridge, closing the door with a muffled slam.
He was doing the right thing. The only thing, really. Sending Willow home would bring the Spike-Willow thing to a halt, and it would keep her safe from whoever had hurt Dev.
The other vampires were all awake now, staring at his looming form curiously. Drusilla frowned, then glided from the bed to stare pensively out the window. Dev's head was swiveling from one of her sires to the other, and Spike had narrowed his eyes on Angel, the taut set of his muscles signaling that he was bracing himself for bad news.
"How are you feeling?" Angel asked Dev.
"Like becoming Willow's personal slave for the rest of her life," their childe replied with an infectious grin. "I don't know what she did, but I feel damn good. Like I wasn't even hurt."
Angel nodded. "You can start feeding normally again, but if you need our blood, just let us know."
"I don't think I will," she said simply.
"Good," Angel said abruptly. He tucked his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor. "We need to know what happened."
"Angel," Spike started to say.
"It's...fine," Dev said, her voice thick. "Better to get it out of the way, yeah?"
"Yeah," Angel heard Spike say reluctantly.
"I don't know who, or what they are," was the first thing she said. "But they're after the Amalgamated." Angel looked up in confusion, and she shook her head. "They didn't realize they had it in their hands."
"Bloody hell, could you make some sense, please?" Spike complained. "Why the hell did they grab you, then?"
"Because of the research," Angel realized, and Dev nodded. The Analects, as he'd told Willow, only told where the actually prophecies were. Dev had spent all of her life tracking down a great many of the texts, scrolls, and objects referenced in the Analects so that she might have what she needed on hand.
"I thought I was being careful enough," she said with a shrug, pushing herself up on the bed and leaning against the headboard. "But I wasn't. They tracked at least four...acquisitions back to me, and figured there must be a reason why I wanted them. Figured I had a line on the Amalgamated." She laughed a little bitterly and drew her knees to her chest. "But I got the last laugh, right?" she drawled darkly. "Had me and lost me. It's poetic, isn't it?"
"Where did they get you, luv?" Spike asked quietly, reaching out to pull her to his side.
"Seattle," she said grimly. "They set me up. I thought I'd finally found a copy of the Hwopf Compendium." She made a choked noise. "I should have known better," she said harshly. "I just should have known."
"No way you could have," Angel denied.
"The fuck there wasn't," Dev snapped. "I've spent a century looking for the damn thing, Angel, and I was too excited to wonder why someone just contacted me out of the blue asking if I knew someone interested in buying it."
Put that way, she was right. She probably should have known better, but he understood where she was coming from. From what they'd learned after her...creation, Hwopf answered a lot of questions about her existence, her purpose. It was the perfect bait. Especially since it was thought to not even exist, as he'd explained to Wesley when he'd learned the ex-Watcher was trying to find it to solve this mystery.
"But they knew," she went on. Her head dropped to Spike's shoulder and her face was hidden by a curtain of purple hair. "They knew things about it. They might actually have the damn thing."
"Where'd they take you, pet? After they got you?" Spike asked her.
Angel would have given him a grateful look for handling the questioning, except that Spike was too focused on Dev to have seen it.
"Some cave," she mumbled against his shoulder. "In the mountains in Washington. Didn't know that until I got out."
Spike nudged her head until she lifted it. "Need some more details," he said.
Her eyes lost focus, then cleared. "Details," she said with determination. "Right. Got me outside of the bookstore they'd lured me to. They're damn well organized, that I know. Tranqued me pretty good from a distance, and waited a few moments until it kicked in and I was out of my head before they surrounded me." She shook her head. "My senses were all shot, so I don't even know what they were. Loaded me in some kind of van and I passed out."
It took effort to stifle his growl; Spike didn't bother. Dev smiled a little at the show of anger, but the smile faded fast. "Woke up in some rock room, chained down to some stone thing. They asked me questions. Basically wanted to know what I knew about the Amalgamated. Did it already exist? Was I trying to make it? Was someone else trying to make it? Didn't answer. Got tortured." She shrugged diffidently. "Repeat ad nauseum."
Angel leaned against the dresser and tried to stay calm. The downplaying was typical Dev. Actually, it was pure Spike and had probably come along with his demon. Sharing wasn't something Dev did very much of, no matter the topic.
His eyes strayed to Drusilla, thinking about Dev's influence of sanity on her, and he frowned when he realized she'd been staring out the window silently this whole time. He crossed to her and touched her hair. "Dru?"
"Sh," she whispered, leaning against him. "Our Devil has a tale to tell and I have secrets to hear."
Satisfied that Drusilla was as all right as she got, he pulled up the dining room chair they'd brought into the room a while back and sat by the side of the bed. "Tell me about who was keeping you," he requested of Dev.
"Nothing I can tell you about that," she said, and anger pinched her features and darkened her eyes. "They were cloaked. Not just literally, either. Magically. Might as well have not been there for all I could sense them. Don't know if they were human, demon, neither or both." She closed her eyes and seemed to force herself to calm down. "I think there were about eight of them, but I could be completely off."
"How did you get out of there?" Spike asked curiously. "Especially in the shape you were in?"
She smiled grimly. "They had two rooms for the torture," she told them flatly. "One for the physical, one for the magical stuff. I played up being weak--not that I wasn't, but I was stronger than I let on--and surprised them when they were taking me from one room to the other." Her brow knitted in frustrated confusion. "I don't...I don't remember much after that. I wandered out of the cave and found a road. Stole a car and saw a sign for Washington. Gets kind of blurry from there. Just knew I had to get to Los Angeles."
Silence fell as Angel absorbed that. "Cave's probably cleared out by now," Spike said abruptly, and Angel looked at him. "But that cloaking...not a common ability. Might be able to get a lead out of it."
Angel nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll have Wes look into it."
Spike's gaze sharpened. "Why not Willow?" he asked carefully. "And why isn't she here for this?"
Lowering his hand from his neck, Angel met Spike's eyes squarely. "Because I'm sending her home," he said firmly.
And this was where the problem would be. Not with Willow, even though it affected her, but with Spike. And with Drusilla, who turned from the window at his words and glared ferociously at him.
"You stupid wanker," Spike growled, letting go of Dev and getting to his feet. "That's the last bloody thing you should be doing. How the hell are we supposed to protect her if she's not with us?"
Dru bared her teeth and hissed at him. "The stars are screaming."
"To hell with the stars," Angel snapped. "She's done all she can here and she's better off in Sunnydale now. This isn't up for debate."
"Think, you ponce," Spike snarled at him. "You heard Dru's vision, just like the rest of us. It's not going to change just because she's not with us." He tossed his hands in the air and made a sound of frustration. "You're sending her off unprotected."
"Buffy is more than capable of protecting her, if it comes down to that," Angel growled. "Dru's vision might not even come to pass if she's not involved any more."
Spike stared at him incredulously. "Do you honestly believe that?" he choked out. "That's not how it works. And Willow knows it, too. I can't even imagine how you're going to convince her to go."
Angel crossed his arms. "She's already agreed."
*******
The living room was dark and empty, much to Spike's surprise. He strode into the dining room and found Willow sitting in front of her laptop, frowning at the screen. He tilted his head to the side, not seeing any trace that she had a problem with leaving.
"Think it'll be that easy?" he snapped irately.
She jumped, a startled squeak tumbling from her lips. ""Spike? Huh? What are you talking about?" she stammered.
He stalked forward and leaned over her, one hand braced on the table and the other wrapped around the back of her chair. He knew he had to look furious, but she just stared at him in confusion. "Think leaving will stop it?" he asked her tightly.
She leaned away from him, still seemingly not understanding what he was talking about. "Spike..."
"Your 'not really' death," he said clearly, taking hold of a wrist and hauling her to her feet. "Thought you would have known better than most that you can't run."
She jerked her wrist and he tightened his grip. "Let me go, Spike," she said flatly, and something potentially dangerous slid behind her eyes. "I mean it."
Spike arch a brow, waited one long moment, then slowly released her wrist. She didn't step away from him, however, just looked up at him with green eyes that weren't in the least angry, or hurt, or scared. "I'm leaving because Angel is making me," she told him calmly. "And because my friends are tearing themselves to pieces thinking I'm dead. I'm *not* running."
"That's a technicality," he snapped.
To his shock, she nodded in agreement. "You're right," she said with a sigh, a small smile flittering across her face. "I know how it works. So do you. I can't get away from it, no matter what I do. I'm walking right towards it and it doesn't matter what choices are made, because they've *already* been made."
He closed his eyes in frustration. "Willow--"
"Stop," she said firmly, and he opened his eyes again. "I can't do this, Spike. I can't discuss it and dissect it and try to figure it out. I can't."
And he saw it then, the quickly pushed aside fear, and he realized how she'd managed to keep going so far. "Also can't ignore it forever," he said softly. "Not going to have that option after a while, either."
She brought her hands to her face and pressed her palms against her forehead. "I know," she breathed shakily. "But I'll do it as long as I can."
He took her hands from her face and looked into her lost eyes.
A harsh laugh issued from her and Spike had to force himself not to tighten his hands around hers for fear of hurting her. "Nothing I do, or say, or think, or understand matters," she said, her voice high-pitched and a little frantic. "So I won't. Do or think or try to understand. Because it'll happen anyway and all I can do is wait for it."
He did tighten his hands then. They'd fucked it all up. Despite their best intentions, they'd let her down in the worst possible way. They'd accepted her pretense of acceptance, had let her go on dealing with the truth by not dealing with it. Even after Angel had given all of them hell for it, they'd done it. And Angel was taking it a step further by sending her away.
Spike let go of one of her hands and grabbed her chin none-too-gently. "That's where you're wrong," he said intently.
She shook her head in his grip, and he knew that somewhere inside of her she needed to hear what he was about to say, because she wasn't trying to get away, just staring up at him with eyes that were scared and desperate. Oh, hell, they had really fucked up and it made his stomach clench.
"You set the terms, luv," he told her forcefully. "No matter what, you make it happen on your terms. And you damn well know how to do it, Will. You manipulate others out of the Watcher's and then pin a vampire to a wall and show him what you're capable of. You *don't* wait until he's got his fangs to your throat to make him think twice."
She went still, frowning up at him. "But...it's not the same thing," she said uncertainly. "I could have stopped you even if you'd come after me. No matter what I do here, it changes nothing."
It was Spike's turn to shake his head. "It's the choice that matters. You chose to do that on your terms, and you can do this on your terms." He drew her closer by way of his hold on her chin, and brought his face closer to hers. "Damn well don't lie there and take it like some passive weakling," he hissed. "You're better than that, stronger than that."
She blinked, and her free hand went to his chest, clenching a fistful of his t-shirt. "I don't know if I am," she said smally.
"Yes, you are," he said quietly. "Seen it in you a dozen times over."
Her eyelids slid down. "I'm so tired," she admitted softly.
Of course she was. How the hell couldn't she be? She lived in a town where letting her guard down was deadly. She couldn't walk outside after sunset without fear. Couldn't call out an absent "come in" when someone knocked. She was targeted because of her association with the Slayer. She'd spent the last four and half years wary, constantly alert, and on her toes, able only to relax when the sun was up, and that wasn't even a guarantee.
He pressed his forehead against hers. "That's where we come in," he whispered. "Let you rest so you're not so tired when it counts, yeah?"
She swayed forward, and just as her body was about to come to rest against his, she stiffened and pulled away. Spike raised his head and frowned down at her as she took a step back. "I've already got a family," she told him. "They miss me and they're worried and I need them."
Spike felt like she'd slapped him, and damned if he actually knew why. "Fine, then," he said curtly, turning and leaving the room.
*******
Willow curled up on her bed and tried not to shake. In the basement earlier, she'd thought that going home would still be easy. But now she knew better, and she was so damn angry at Spike for cornering her in the dining room and making her realize just what it was going to be like. She remembered when she'd agreed to be Dru's safe place, remembered thinking that it might be difficult to disentangle herself.
Difficult was proving to be an understatement. Because even though she understood and agreed with Angel sending her away, it stung. And it had been so tempting, so very tempting to listen to Spike. To fall against him and rest completely, gather her strength in reality the way she could in her safe place while she was sleeping. But she knew she couldn't, because Angel was sending her away, and letting go like that for even a minute would make leaving devastating.
Dawn had come and gone by now, and she was bone weary. So tired and drained that she wanted to cry. But she felt like she couldn't do that, either. She hadn't cried in so long that she had the feeling it would take hours before she'd get it all out. Maybe even days.
And, damn it, nothing had been this complicated or painful just thirty-two hours ago. Things had been clear and simple. But since Dev had woken up, things had changed a thousand times. Angel was already cutting her out of the loop, Spike was back to trying to teach her lessons, and Willow just wanted things to go back to normal. Before Dev woke up normal, or before this trip normal. She didn't care which.
Sighing in frustration, she got out of bed and grabbed her pillow and blanket. Getting to sleep in this room was going to be impossible, and she desperately needed to sleep. Stumbling from exhaustion, she made her way downstairs and the couch. Lying down with something solid on one side of her was better than being adrift in her single bed. And maybe she could wean herself off the need to be bracketed. Start with the couch and just one bracket, and eventually get to no brackets.
Tossing uncomfortably, Willow feared it might be a decade or so before she reached that point.
*******
"For the last time, what happened?"
Spike stared up at the ceiling and continued to ignore Angel as he'd done for the past ten minutes. Bad move. Apparently, he'd pissed Angel off enough times already. The hand that latched around his neck meant business, and the hold was impossible to break. Spike was left with no choice but to be dragged out of the bedroom and down the stairs, through the kitchen and down to the basement.
The basement wasn't a good sign. Meant Angel was intending to get him to talk in any way possible, and didn't want Willow overhearing. Bloody fucking hell.
Once they descended the stairs, Angel shoved him to the floor and glowered down at him. "I've let you get away with not answering a hell of a lot concerning Willow, but I'm done," he said icily. "Tell me why you came back upstairs looking ready to kill something."
Spike considered whether or not he wanted to anger Angel further by getting to his feet, and decided that he did. Angel's face darkened as Spike slowly stood up, a smirk on his face and his eyes locked with Angel's. Just to add fuel to the fire, he drawled, "None of your business."
Angel's fist was a blur that Spike managed to only partially avoid, and he grinned as he felt blood trickle from his nose. He was playing with fire here and guaranteed to get incinerated, but he just didn't give a fuck. They fought for a while, and Angel had the upper hand the entire time. Spike was working on anger and he knew it. He knew that he wasn't paying attention to blocking or setting up his own punches. Knew and didn't give a fuck about that either. But Angel got fed up pretty quickly, and Spike found himself on the floor on his stomach, both hands pulled behind his back and Angel pressing a knee against his spine.
"You're not in control here, Spike," Angel growled down at him. "Not in any way, shape, or form. I want answers, and I want them now."
"Sod off," Spike spat, one side of his face getting scraped by the concrete floor. "This isn't even real anyhow."
And he felt Angel shift, heard the silky, infuriated words get whispered right against his ear. "What's real is that I am stronger than you are. I always have been. I always will be. Everything else can get flushed down the toilet, and that will remain. Tell. Me. What. I. Want. To. Know."
Spike kept silent and braced himself for more violence, more pain. Instead, Angel flipped him over, pinning his wrists over his head, and just stared down at him with that scrutinizing gaze of his. And Spike didn't look away, because the only answers he had to give were there to see, and maybe Angel would know what they were better than he did.
Lids slid down over dark brown eyes in a show of frustrated understanding, and he released Spike and sat on the floor tiredly. "There are times," Angel said wearily, "when I want to strangle Dru for turning you, William." Spike flinched and was about to get up when Angel continued. "Right about now, some simple, vapid moron would be a pleasure to deal with."
Thinking that over, Spike couldn't fault him for that. There were times when he wished that he *were* simple and vapid. Made life easier.
"We done?" he asked flatly.
"Not even close," Angel sighed. "What happened tonight?"
Spike sat up and ran his hands through his hair. "She's got a defeatist attitude about it," he said with a shrug. "Never seen in it her before, and it shouldn't be there now. Not if we'd done things right and proper."
Angel rubbed his forehead. "You called her on it?"
"Yeah." He really didn't know how to continue from there, quite honestly. Didn't know what about the entire scene in the dining room bothered him the most. "Said she was tired, and I told her it was our job to help her with it."
"What did she say to that?"
Looking past Angel, he shrugged. "That the Slayer and gang missed her and she needed them."
"I see," Angel said quietly.
Spike turned his eyes back to the other vampire. "Do you?" he asked archly. "Because I don't. We can take better care of her than they can, but she doesn't want to admit that and you just want her gone."
"You really think that's what's got you ready to slaughter something?" Angel shot back at him, his eyes hard. "Do you honestly believe this--" He gestured around them with his hand. "--was about where she'll be *safer*?"
That was the crux of it. He wasn't sure. "What else would it be about, eh?" he asked casually. "Me and Dru seem to be the only ones--"
"Spike, cut the shit," Angel snapped. Spike blinked at him. "I'm not asking for the truth, because god knows you don't even know what that is yet, but don't feed me the half-assed lies you're feeding yourself." He frowned, and his eyes were shuttered. "She's not leaving to reject...us. And if you honestly have *her* interests in mind, you'll realize it's for the best."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Spike snapped.
Angel didn't answer right away, and when he did, Spike thought there was a lot more that wasn't being said. Or that he wasn't hearing. "She's not one of us, Spike. No matter what we've been playing at to get along. I don't even need to know what happened when you two went for that walk to know that we're not the influence she needs."
Spike narrowed his eyes. "You've noticed it, too?" he said with surprise, though he wasn't sure why he was surprised. Angel certainly had more history with Willow, and wasn't nearly as dumb as he sometimes acted.
"Yes," Angel said grimly. "Nothing like seeing her vamped to get a taste for what she's capable of, given the wrong set of circumstances."
That threw Spike for a minute until he remembered having heard a couple of off-hand comments from Willow and the others about some vampire version of her from another reality.
"Doesn't change my original point," Spike grunted. "Which *is* valid. Dru's vision will play out, no matter where she is."
Angel lowered his brows. "And my point remains valid, too: Buffy is more than capable of doing what needs to be done to protect Willow should the need arise."
Spike arched a brow. "Yeah, mate? And do you intend to tell her and her Watcher about Dev? Put the news out there so that the bastards who got her know that she's what they were after to begin with?"
"Give me a little credit, Spike," Angel said with displeasure, and that was good enough.
"So, she's going home, then," Spike said quietly, looking away from a probing look Angel was sending him. "I'll talk with Dru, see about getting her calmed down."
Angel got to his feet and held out a hand to Spike. "Let's get back upstairs."
Spike let Angel help him up, and they trudged up to the kitchen and then towards the stairs. The sound of a heartbeat coming from the living room stopped them, however, especially since the entire downstairs was dark. They crept through the dining room, and edged into the living room, stopping in surprise when they saw Willow on the sofa.
She was pressed against the back of her, her face buried against the cushion and one arm looped over the top. Even in the gloom he could see that her limb wasn't simply resting on top of the sofa back; she was clutching it, holding it. He stared, watching as her legs twitched until she crooked them and jammed her knees against the unyielding sofa back. He'd had her knees jammed against him on more than one occasion due to the cramped sleeping space the bed had afforded the five of them.
He couldn't look away, and he didn't know that he'd made a move towards her until Angel took hold of his arm.
"Spike." It took a great deal of effor to turns his gaze to the other vampire. "Let's go upstairs," Angel said sedately.
Spike blinked, then nodded, following Angel out of the room and up the stairs.
*******