Chapter 6
And silently within hands touching skin
Sharp breaks my disease and I can breathe
"Wes, is it alright with you if I go out in the courtyard and train a little?" Buffy asked. Wes had a fairly impressive training set up in the courtyard.
"Of course, make yourself at home here, Buffy." Wes said.
"Thanks," She said. Buffy slipped upstairs and changed into a pair of low slung yoga pants and a tank top. She found it therapeutic to beat on something, even if it was just a punching bag. Angel was still sleeping soundly. Buffy padded down the stairs barefoot and out into the courtyard. She went to work pounding on a punching bag. She used her feet and her fists on it. Gunn watched her from a shadowed alcove. He hadn't known a human could move like that. She moved like a vampire, fast, fluid, graceful. As he watched Buffy workout, a fine sheen of sweat covering her toned body, he wondered why the hell the ones he could fall for always went for dark, broody and insane.
Buffy's workout was interrupted by a roar that she knew was Angel's. She felt it inside and fought the urge to scream herself. She raced into the lobby just as Angel jumped from the second story balcony and landed in a crouch, almost quicker then the human eye can see. Just as quickly Angel, in snarling game face, launched himself at Wes, who was standing in front of the reception desk. Buffy put on a superhuman burst of speed and just managed to wedge her body between Wes and Angel at the point of impact. It nearly knocked the breath out of her.
"Angel, stop." She said just before Angel sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of her throat. Buffy struggled to stay calm. Her body, her blood, screamed at her to run or fight. She saw Gunn behind Angel raise a tranq gun. "Gunn, no," She screamed. If Gunn made him drowsy or dizzy while he was drinking her, he wouldn't be able to pay attention to her heartbeat, he wouldn't stop before he killed her. "Angel, it's Buffy, Baby, you don't want to hurt me. Angel, stop. Oh, God, Angel, its Buffy, stop." Her voice was tremulous with desire. She remembered this feeling; she had dreams about this feeling. She moaned and arched into his body, causing his fangs to sink in deeper. She tried to focus on what was going on. It wouldn't do to have a bite orgasm with Wes and Gunn watching. It would be so easy to surrender, to let it wash over her. And then as suddenly as it had started it was over. Angel retracted his fangs. Buffy's knees buckled and he caught her. He reverted to his human face, staring down at her in horror. Tears filled his eyes. If it weren't for the fact that he was holding her, he would have retreated into the darkest corner of the darkest room he could find. Buffy raised one hand and laid it in the crook of his neck.
"I'm okay. You stopped in time, just weak." She said. She could feel the blood still dripping from the wound on her neck, "and still bleeding."
Angel dropped to the floor. He cradled her in his arms and whimpered over her. He dipped his head and lapped at the wound he'd made, making apologetic mewling noises as he did. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gunn advancing toward them with a stake in one hand and a look of murder in his eyes. Wes put out a hand and stopped him.
"He didn't mean to hurt her." Wes said.
"He's still hurting her." Gunn's voice was filled with rage.
"No, he's not. Look at them. He's closing up the wound." Wes said.
"I'm okay, really. He didn't take too much." Buffy said. Truthfully she was fighting losing consciousness. She had to stay awake until she was sure Wes and Gunn weren't going to stake Angel.
Angel finished lapping at the wound. He stood up and laid her gently on the curved desk. He walked around and took the first aid kit from underneath. With lucid concentration and worry Angel dabbed antibiotic ointment on the puncture wounds and then covered it with a large square bandage. He picked her back up and cradled her in his arms. He looked straight at Wes.
"Glass of orange juice, please. Helps build her blood back." He said.
"Wh-well, yes, in the kitchen. I'll go get a glass." Wes watched Angel carefully as he walked into the kitchen. Angel took Buffy over to the couch and sat down with her. He tucked his nose in the crook of her neck and sniffed at her.
"Weak, took to much, sorry Buffy." He murmured.
She shook her head. "You didn't mean to, it's okay."
"You're not scared, don't smell scared, didn't taste scared, just tasted like ...love?" He said.
"I knew you'd stop in time. It's happened before, remember?" She said.
He nodded. "Didn't know if it was real or not, have lots of dreams about it."
She smiled weakly at him. "I know me too."
"Bad dreams?" He asked.
"Sometimes a little scary, but usually good dreams." She said.
"Didn't mean to, vision, or memory maybe, of someone hurting you. Thought it was happening. Had to stop it. Didn't meant o hurt you, didn't mean to hurt Wes." He said. His eyes and his words showed lucidity that she hadn't seen before. He knew what was going on. He knew what he'd done and what he'd seen and he knew that there was a difference between his memories and his visions. It was an improvement, even though anyone who didn't know what was going would be hard pressed to call it that.
Wes brought a glass of orange juice. Angel took it from him and held it while Buffy drank it.
"Whole thing." He said.
"Yes, Mom," she teased. She drained the glass and handed it back to Wes. "Wes, if I sleep, don't let Gunn hurt him, no tranqing him, no locking him up. Let him stay with me."
Angel stood up. "I'm going to stay with her, protect her."
Neither Wes nor Gunn mentioned that the only one she'd needed protecting from so far was him.
Angel took her up the stairs and laid her in his bed, tucking her in snugly. He rummaged in the nightstand and came up with a dusty book of poetry that hadn't been read in years. He pulled a chair close and turned off the lights and then he read to her, just like he would have years ago.
"Angel," She said sleepily.
"Yes?" He raised his head to look at her.
"You remember your name." She smiled.
"Yeah, don't know why didn't before." He said. His words were still stilted but nowhere near the way they had been.
A puzzled look crossed Buffy's face. "Angel, how do you feel?"
He took a moment to think about it, "Strong, different, everything in its place. Don't know why though. Been a long time since it felt like this."
Buffy yawned and whispered "my blood" just before drifting off to sleep.
I feel like a pain
Draws me in again
When Buffy woke up Angel had moved from his chair beside the bed. She glanced around the dark room. After a moment she saw him, curled up in the corner, hands over his head rocking back and forth muttering to himself.
"Didn't mean to, didn't mean it. Sorry, so sorry. Didn't want to, didn't want to. Hurt Buffy, always, Buffy." He muttered to himself.
Buffy crept over to him, staying crouched low. "Angel, Baby, it's me, it's Buffy." She laid a hand on his shoulder.
He cringed and shrunk further back into the corner. "Hurt Buffy, sorry, didn't mean to, didn't mean to."
Buffy reached up and removed the bandage from her neck. She gently touched the wound there. It was already healing. "No, you didn't hurt me, Angel. I'm okay. See?" She tried to pry his hand away and place it on her neck. He kept himself wrapped up tightly. She could have forced it, but it probably would have done more damage then good. She sat down on the floor beside Angel with a sigh. One step forward, two steps back. She had been so hopeful when she'd drifted off to sleep. She glanced up at the digital clock on the nightstand. She'd been asleep for six hours. In six hours Angel had gone from mostly lucid to huddling in a corner talking to himself again.
Buffy retrieved the book of poetry Angel had been reading to her from. She flipped on a couple of the lamps, creating just enough light to read by. She sat back down on the floor next to him. She coaxed him into laying his head on her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair and read his beloved poems to him. By the time she heard sounds of Wes and Gunn moving around downstairs Angel had calmed down some. He was far from lucid but he wasn't panicked either. She picked his hand up in hers and pressed a kiss to the claddagh ring he still wore.
"Angel, I need to go down and talk to Wes and Gunn. Why don't you come with me?" Buffy said.
Angel looked up at her, his eyes darting from hers to the door and back again. He ducked his head in a semblance of a nod. She stood up and held her hand out for him. He took it and walked behind her. He walked stoop shouldered, trying to stay drawn inside himself. Buffy led him downstairs to the hotel lobby.
"Oh, good morning. I was just about to go get Angel's blood and bring it up to you two. How are you feeling, Buffy?" Wes asked.
"I'm fine, slayer healing and all. I wanted to talk to you and Gunn about something." She said sitting on the couch and pulling Angel down beside her. He pulled her closer, curling around her and burying his nose in the back of her neck, ineffectively hiding from Gunn and Wes.
"Alright," Wes settled against the edge of the reception desk. Gunn straddled a chair turned backwards.
"Last night, after Angel drank from me, he was lucid. He remembered his name. He said he felt strong. He said everything was in its place. He recognized the difference between memories, visions and reality. He read a book of poetry to me while I fell asleep. He was almost himself. And then when I woke up this morning, he was like this again." Buffy said
"Did he have a vision?" Wes asked.
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. He didn't mention it if he had one. He didn't wake me up yelling for either of you. Isn't that what he usually does when he has a vision?"
Wes nodded. "Indeed. He knows, even in his worse moments, that he is to call for Gunn or me when he has a vision so we can take care of it. If a vision remains unresolved he has what Gunn and I refer to as vision hangover. The symptoms vary but generally it's a bad headache or something of that sort coupled with intense guilt that he's not helping the person the powers want him to. Once the vision is resolved, the person saved or demon killed, the hangover goes away. He hasn't been lucid enough to tell us if he still gets vision hangovers but we assume he does. Its obvious from his ramblings he still feels intense guilt if the vision is not resolved."
"So there's not much of a chance he would have a vision without you knowing it?" Buffy said.
"Not likely." Gunn said.
Buffy nodded. "Okay then there's another reason for his lucidity and his decline. I think it was my blood. Last time in Sunnydale it healed him from almost dead to perfect health in a matter of seconds. He was pretty out of it by the time I got back to him then. I know Oz and Willow both said he mistook them for me at least once. I know this is a different matter, but if it could make that big a difference then, couldn't it now?" Buffy looked up at Wes asking for him to validate her hopes.
"I suppose so, but it's a moot point." Wes said.
"Yeah not like you can let him drain you every few hours just to maintain some sort of sanity." Gunn said.
Buffy sighed. "He didn't drain me, but you're right, I can't let him take that much twice a day. I'd be weak and worthless as a slayer, but what if he drank his regular rations and then just took a little of my blood with it?"
"There's no way to know if it would do any good." Wes said.
"It might and it could have long term effects. Maybe over time the effects would last longer." Buffy said, digging for any hope.
"What if he doesn't want to stop at just a little?" Gunn asked.
"I can stop him." Buffy said.
"Sure as hell didn't look like it yesterday." Gunn said.
Buffy glared at him. Angel was drawing up further around her. She could hear him whispering "sorry, sorry, sorry, didn't mean to hurt Buffy, didn't mean to." She captured his hand in hers. "Its okay, Baby, you didn't hurt me." She whispered for his ears only. She turned her attention back to Gunn. "If I want to, I can stop him."
"If you want to?" Gunn said accusingly. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Being bit, by Angel at least, feels good, really good. I could have stopped him sooner yesterday. It might have been messier but I could have." Buffy said.
Gunn shook his head and looked at her with disgust written all over his features. "That's just fucked up. He nearly killed you yesterday and you're sitting there telling me it felt good."
"You know Gunn, I don't recall asking your opinion of all this. Let me worry about this. He didn't nearly kill me and he wouldn't have. He spent two hundred years knowing exactly how much blood he can drink before a girl dies. He could hear my heart. Angel may not be aware of a lot of things, but he's aware that I'm here and he loves me. He's not going to kill me." Buffy said. She took a deep breath and tried to comfort Angel, who was getting increasingly more agitated as she did.
"I'm going to try this. I can't sit by and do nothing knowing that there's something I can do to help him, even if it is temporarily. "Buffy said.
"I have a suggestion then." Wes said.
"Alright,"
"I'll cut back on his rations a bit and you wait until he's eaten before you let him feed on you. He won't be as hungry then and it will be easier for you to stop him." Wes said.
Buffy nodded. "Okay, so let's give him breakfast."
And silently within hands touching skin
Sharp breaks my disease and I can breathe
"Wes, is it alright with you if I go out in the courtyard and train a little?" Buffy asked. Wes had a fairly impressive training set up in the courtyard.
"Of course, make yourself at home here, Buffy." Wes said.
"Thanks," She said. Buffy slipped upstairs and changed into a pair of low slung yoga pants and a tank top. She found it therapeutic to beat on something, even if it was just a punching bag. Angel was still sleeping soundly. Buffy padded down the stairs barefoot and out into the courtyard. She went to work pounding on a punching bag. She used her feet and her fists on it. Gunn watched her from a shadowed alcove. He hadn't known a human could move like that. She moved like a vampire, fast, fluid, graceful. As he watched Buffy workout, a fine sheen of sweat covering her toned body, he wondered why the hell the ones he could fall for always went for dark, broody and insane.
Buffy's workout was interrupted by a roar that she knew was Angel's. She felt it inside and fought the urge to scream herself. She raced into the lobby just as Angel jumped from the second story balcony and landed in a crouch, almost quicker then the human eye can see. Just as quickly Angel, in snarling game face, launched himself at Wes, who was standing in front of the reception desk. Buffy put on a superhuman burst of speed and just managed to wedge her body between Wes and Angel at the point of impact. It nearly knocked the breath out of her.
"Angel, stop." She said just before Angel sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of her throat. Buffy struggled to stay calm. Her body, her blood, screamed at her to run or fight. She saw Gunn behind Angel raise a tranq gun. "Gunn, no," She screamed. If Gunn made him drowsy or dizzy while he was drinking her, he wouldn't be able to pay attention to her heartbeat, he wouldn't stop before he killed her. "Angel, it's Buffy, Baby, you don't want to hurt me. Angel, stop. Oh, God, Angel, its Buffy, stop." Her voice was tremulous with desire. She remembered this feeling; she had dreams about this feeling. She moaned and arched into his body, causing his fangs to sink in deeper. She tried to focus on what was going on. It wouldn't do to have a bite orgasm with Wes and Gunn watching. It would be so easy to surrender, to let it wash over her. And then as suddenly as it had started it was over. Angel retracted his fangs. Buffy's knees buckled and he caught her. He reverted to his human face, staring down at her in horror. Tears filled his eyes. If it weren't for the fact that he was holding her, he would have retreated into the darkest corner of the darkest room he could find. Buffy raised one hand and laid it in the crook of his neck.
"I'm okay. You stopped in time, just weak." She said. She could feel the blood still dripping from the wound on her neck, "and still bleeding."
Angel dropped to the floor. He cradled her in his arms and whimpered over her. He dipped his head and lapped at the wound he'd made, making apologetic mewling noises as he did. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gunn advancing toward them with a stake in one hand and a look of murder in his eyes. Wes put out a hand and stopped him.
"He didn't mean to hurt her." Wes said.
"He's still hurting her." Gunn's voice was filled with rage.
"No, he's not. Look at them. He's closing up the wound." Wes said.
"I'm okay, really. He didn't take too much." Buffy said. Truthfully she was fighting losing consciousness. She had to stay awake until she was sure Wes and Gunn weren't going to stake Angel.
Angel finished lapping at the wound. He stood up and laid her gently on the curved desk. He walked around and took the first aid kit from underneath. With lucid concentration and worry Angel dabbed antibiotic ointment on the puncture wounds and then covered it with a large square bandage. He picked her back up and cradled her in his arms. He looked straight at Wes.
"Glass of orange juice, please. Helps build her blood back." He said.
"Wh-well, yes, in the kitchen. I'll go get a glass." Wes watched Angel carefully as he walked into the kitchen. Angel took Buffy over to the couch and sat down with her. He tucked his nose in the crook of her neck and sniffed at her.
"Weak, took to much, sorry Buffy." He murmured.
She shook her head. "You didn't mean to, it's okay."
"You're not scared, don't smell scared, didn't taste scared, just tasted like ...love?" He said.
"I knew you'd stop in time. It's happened before, remember?" She said.
He nodded. "Didn't know if it was real or not, have lots of dreams about it."
She smiled weakly at him. "I know me too."
"Bad dreams?" He asked.
"Sometimes a little scary, but usually good dreams." She said.
"Didn't mean to, vision, or memory maybe, of someone hurting you. Thought it was happening. Had to stop it. Didn't meant o hurt you, didn't mean to hurt Wes." He said. His eyes and his words showed lucidity that she hadn't seen before. He knew what was going on. He knew what he'd done and what he'd seen and he knew that there was a difference between his memories and his visions. It was an improvement, even though anyone who didn't know what was going would be hard pressed to call it that.
Wes brought a glass of orange juice. Angel took it from him and held it while Buffy drank it.
"Whole thing." He said.
"Yes, Mom," she teased. She drained the glass and handed it back to Wes. "Wes, if I sleep, don't let Gunn hurt him, no tranqing him, no locking him up. Let him stay with me."
Angel stood up. "I'm going to stay with her, protect her."
Neither Wes nor Gunn mentioned that the only one she'd needed protecting from so far was him.
Angel took her up the stairs and laid her in his bed, tucking her in snugly. He rummaged in the nightstand and came up with a dusty book of poetry that hadn't been read in years. He pulled a chair close and turned off the lights and then he read to her, just like he would have years ago.
"Angel," She said sleepily.
"Yes?" He raised his head to look at her.
"You remember your name." She smiled.
"Yeah, don't know why didn't before." He said. His words were still stilted but nowhere near the way they had been.
A puzzled look crossed Buffy's face. "Angel, how do you feel?"
He took a moment to think about it, "Strong, different, everything in its place. Don't know why though. Been a long time since it felt like this."
Buffy yawned and whispered "my blood" just before drifting off to sleep.
I feel like a pain
Draws me in again
When Buffy woke up Angel had moved from his chair beside the bed. She glanced around the dark room. After a moment she saw him, curled up in the corner, hands over his head rocking back and forth muttering to himself.
"Didn't mean to, didn't mean it. Sorry, so sorry. Didn't want to, didn't want to. Hurt Buffy, always, Buffy." He muttered to himself.
Buffy crept over to him, staying crouched low. "Angel, Baby, it's me, it's Buffy." She laid a hand on his shoulder.
He cringed and shrunk further back into the corner. "Hurt Buffy, sorry, didn't mean to, didn't mean to."
Buffy reached up and removed the bandage from her neck. She gently touched the wound there. It was already healing. "No, you didn't hurt me, Angel. I'm okay. See?" She tried to pry his hand away and place it on her neck. He kept himself wrapped up tightly. She could have forced it, but it probably would have done more damage then good. She sat down on the floor beside Angel with a sigh. One step forward, two steps back. She had been so hopeful when she'd drifted off to sleep. She glanced up at the digital clock on the nightstand. She'd been asleep for six hours. In six hours Angel had gone from mostly lucid to huddling in a corner talking to himself again.
Buffy retrieved the book of poetry Angel had been reading to her from. She flipped on a couple of the lamps, creating just enough light to read by. She sat back down on the floor next to him. She coaxed him into laying his head on her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair and read his beloved poems to him. By the time she heard sounds of Wes and Gunn moving around downstairs Angel had calmed down some. He was far from lucid but he wasn't panicked either. She picked his hand up in hers and pressed a kiss to the claddagh ring he still wore.
"Angel, I need to go down and talk to Wes and Gunn. Why don't you come with me?" Buffy said.
Angel looked up at her, his eyes darting from hers to the door and back again. He ducked his head in a semblance of a nod. She stood up and held her hand out for him. He took it and walked behind her. He walked stoop shouldered, trying to stay drawn inside himself. Buffy led him downstairs to the hotel lobby.
"Oh, good morning. I was just about to go get Angel's blood and bring it up to you two. How are you feeling, Buffy?" Wes asked.
"I'm fine, slayer healing and all. I wanted to talk to you and Gunn about something." She said sitting on the couch and pulling Angel down beside her. He pulled her closer, curling around her and burying his nose in the back of her neck, ineffectively hiding from Gunn and Wes.
"Alright," Wes settled against the edge of the reception desk. Gunn straddled a chair turned backwards.
"Last night, after Angel drank from me, he was lucid. He remembered his name. He said he felt strong. He said everything was in its place. He recognized the difference between memories, visions and reality. He read a book of poetry to me while I fell asleep. He was almost himself. And then when I woke up this morning, he was like this again." Buffy said
"Did he have a vision?" Wes asked.
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. He didn't mention it if he had one. He didn't wake me up yelling for either of you. Isn't that what he usually does when he has a vision?"
Wes nodded. "Indeed. He knows, even in his worse moments, that he is to call for Gunn or me when he has a vision so we can take care of it. If a vision remains unresolved he has what Gunn and I refer to as vision hangover. The symptoms vary but generally it's a bad headache or something of that sort coupled with intense guilt that he's not helping the person the powers want him to. Once the vision is resolved, the person saved or demon killed, the hangover goes away. He hasn't been lucid enough to tell us if he still gets vision hangovers but we assume he does. Its obvious from his ramblings he still feels intense guilt if the vision is not resolved."
"So there's not much of a chance he would have a vision without you knowing it?" Buffy said.
"Not likely." Gunn said.
Buffy nodded. "Okay then there's another reason for his lucidity and his decline. I think it was my blood. Last time in Sunnydale it healed him from almost dead to perfect health in a matter of seconds. He was pretty out of it by the time I got back to him then. I know Oz and Willow both said he mistook them for me at least once. I know this is a different matter, but if it could make that big a difference then, couldn't it now?" Buffy looked up at Wes asking for him to validate her hopes.
"I suppose so, but it's a moot point." Wes said.
"Yeah not like you can let him drain you every few hours just to maintain some sort of sanity." Gunn said.
Buffy sighed. "He didn't drain me, but you're right, I can't let him take that much twice a day. I'd be weak and worthless as a slayer, but what if he drank his regular rations and then just took a little of my blood with it?"
"There's no way to know if it would do any good." Wes said.
"It might and it could have long term effects. Maybe over time the effects would last longer." Buffy said, digging for any hope.
"What if he doesn't want to stop at just a little?" Gunn asked.
"I can stop him." Buffy said.
"Sure as hell didn't look like it yesterday." Gunn said.
Buffy glared at him. Angel was drawing up further around her. She could hear him whispering "sorry, sorry, sorry, didn't mean to hurt Buffy, didn't mean to." She captured his hand in hers. "Its okay, Baby, you didn't hurt me." She whispered for his ears only. She turned her attention back to Gunn. "If I want to, I can stop him."
"If you want to?" Gunn said accusingly. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Being bit, by Angel at least, feels good, really good. I could have stopped him sooner yesterday. It might have been messier but I could have." Buffy said.
Gunn shook his head and looked at her with disgust written all over his features. "That's just fucked up. He nearly killed you yesterday and you're sitting there telling me it felt good."
"You know Gunn, I don't recall asking your opinion of all this. Let me worry about this. He didn't nearly kill me and he wouldn't have. He spent two hundred years knowing exactly how much blood he can drink before a girl dies. He could hear my heart. Angel may not be aware of a lot of things, but he's aware that I'm here and he loves me. He's not going to kill me." Buffy said. She took a deep breath and tried to comfort Angel, who was getting increasingly more agitated as she did.
"I'm going to try this. I can't sit by and do nothing knowing that there's something I can do to help him, even if it is temporarily. "Buffy said.
"I have a suggestion then." Wes said.
"Alright,"
"I'll cut back on his rations a bit and you wait until he's eaten before you let him feed on you. He won't be as hungry then and it will be easier for you to stop him." Wes said.
Buffy nodded. "Okay, so let's give him breakfast."