Summary: Spike has arrived on Wesley's request to help them fight Helhesten, though none of them seems to know exactly how to do it.

Chapter 11: Betray Me

Author's thanks at end.

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'Jealousy is not the fear of losing. It is the fear of sharing.'

X

Buffy gingerly got to her feet, as though her legs were too stiff to be able to move properly. She stepped nearer to Spike, and in the silence of the room the soft pad of her light steps upon the carpet was the only sound to be heard. Even Giles seemed to be holding his breath.

Spike did not move from his spot beside Angel, who watched in bitter silence, a burning feeling rising inside him, as Buffy paused before the younger demon, sliding a finger down the side of his face, whispering his name, as if she was questioning his presence.

While Angel would have thought it was physically impossible for him to remain quiet for such a long period of time, Spike said nothing, even as Buffy slowly laced her arms around him and drew bleached blonde vampire and leather coat into a soft hug. Spike closed his eyes, his lower lip going white where his teeth dug into it and Angel looked away.

Straight at Giles who caught his eyes, a weird expression of triumph and malicious pleasure passing over the old Watcher's face before he quickly looked down at the book that still rested in his hands.

'Pet,' Spike's voice murmured huskily, and through the corner of his eyes Angel saw him loosen Buffy's hold, his hands gentle but determined. Angel looked down at the floor between his feet, remaining quiet and unwilling to see Buffy's reaction whilst at the same time feeling a strange urgency to know, to understand.

There came a shrill squeak of a chair leg scraping along the floor and then Xander's voice sounded, higher pitched than usual, betraying his shock and confusion. 'Spike? Man, we – we thought you fried...'

Angel did not look up but knew the other vampire well enough to know that that sort of comment warranted a cold glare. Spike did not disappoint him.

'Well, I did,' he replied brusquely.

Xander said nothing.

'H-How?' Buffy's voice was hoarse and Angel found his eyes had sought her face once again as she spoke. There were so many restrained emotions fighting in her voice, and he could not discern one from another.

'Apparently, the bloody trinket turned up under Angel's nose and spat me out on Peaches' desk, so I spend some time as Casper, getting to know my new surroundings and colleagues, no sense of feeling, touch, smell, learning to walk through walls, you know the deluxe package...until I became a real boy again.' Spike's gaze brushed across Buffy's face as he spoke but did not linger there, darting from person to person, from shadow to shadow, and no matter how hard he tried to conceal it with offhand behaviour and sharp words, Angel saw his pain and knew it from himself.

'You – you came back as...uh...as a ghost?' The glasses were off the old Watcher's nose and back in his right hand, and he still sounded as though he was struggling to find his voice.

Spike fixed him with a sharp stare. 'Yeah, and though its may seem exciting the first week or too, what with the whole 'No Place Off Limit' deal and what's not, it quite quickly gets a bloody drag.'

'For how long?' Buffy's voice shook. Angel saw the faint glint in her eyes and knew she was either very angry or very sad.

The smugness and pretence evaporated from Spike's voice as he looked at her. 'Almost half a year,' he answered.

Buffy nodded curtly, crossing her arms unconsciously before her chest, and this time Angel knew it was anger and hurt in her voice. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

The question was short and sharp, striking Spike like a whiplash and he blinked. 'It takes the martyrdom out of the heroic death, doesn't it? Dying to save the soddin' world for only to be spat back by the bloody Powers that Be as a ghost – that's quite pathetic.' But Angel could see in his eyes that it was more than that and he knew that Buffy saw it too.

And suddenly she had turned to him, her arms swinging agitatedly by her sides, and the confusion and disappointment that shone in her eyes tore into Angel. 'You didn't tell me.' Her voice barely rose above a whisper and yet Angel had no difficulty in feeling the accusing, disbelieving, tone that tinged her words. 'You knew and you didn't – why?'

Before Angel could reply, Spike's hand shot in the air in his old flippant fashion. 'Uhm, luv, 'm afraid it's not that fair to pile it all on Gabriel.' Buffy looked at the bleached blonde vampire. So did Angel, and for once Spike seemed uncomfortable with the attention he was attracting. 'I told him to keep the zipper shut,' he finally said.

Buffy cocked her head. 'And Andrew?'

Spike nodded. 'Yeah, the git too.'

'Andrew?' Xander was watching them, a strange expression of realisation slowly crossing his face. 'Andrew knew about your –' he gestured vaguely with his hands, searching for the right word. Spike cocked a scarred eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed. '- revival?'

'Ghostly prelude and all,' Spike confirmed. Then his brows furrowed in thought. 'Talking of the brat, what became of Dana?'

This was a question Angel himself had wanted to ask, but Wesley had seemed to think that it would be to their advantage if they managed to secure the Scoobies' cooperation when dealing with Helhesten without reminding any of their reluctant hosts of the incident a couple of weeks previously.

Angel caught Buffy's eyes as they flashed to his face but she quickly dropped her gaze, and he was left with a feeling of spreading emptiness within him.

'I can assure you, she is receiving the best possible care,' Giles said in the same chilly voice he had otherwise reserved for Angel. Wesley shifted his weight uncertainly.

'Spike is here to help us deal with the demon,' he explained, clearly finding the conversation drifting more than what was to his liking. 'If we have to attempt to take Helhesten on with brute force, we will at least need the best brute force in the field.'

'So what are you doing here?' Xander interrupted rudely.

Wesley just smiled coldly. 'I take care of our weaponry,' he replied, tossing one of his small handguns onto the table where it glided to a slow halt underneath the young man's nose.

Xander's eyes darted from Wesley's face to the gun and back again. Then he grinned at the Watcher in exultation. 'Bullets can't even kill vampires –'

'These might do the trick,' Wesley simply said, returning his attention to the book in his hands.

There was a short moment of strained silence.

'We need to talk,' Spike said.

Buffy looked at him, her face pale and tense. 'We so do.'

Angel took a seat at the table, grabbed the nearest book and pretended not to notice the brief glance she shot him. Her steps sounded rhythmically from the stairs, her small frame obscured by Spike's black leather coat as he fell into track behind her before silence fell around the table again, broken only by the frequent flicker of a page being turned.

No voices sounded through the wooden beams of the ceiling, and still Angel's head was buzzing with incoherent, half-formed thoughts that passed and were gone before they were fully formed. His stomach was feeling as though he was falling very quickly, very far, as though some invisible abyss could open at his feet any time and hurl him downward, and only the hush of the air blowing past his ears could drown out the confusion inside his mind.

He did not know what to do.

He did not know what to think.

He did not even know what not to think.

Angel forced his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to clear it. It did not work very well. Opening his eyes, he looked to Giles who sat bent over the old book and remembered something. 'Did you find something?'

Giles started at the sound of his voice. 'Oh, um, yes, in fact I believe I do.' He began to turn the pages of the book as though he was searching for a particular passage. Angel rose from his chair and crossed to the old Watcher's side of the table.

'There,' Giles said, placing a single finger firmly on the extract in question. Angel squinted at the unintelligible symbols that danced across the page, feeling Wesley peer over his shoulder. Giles went on. 'This mentions a spell that might succeed in binding Helhesten forever in the shadow realm, trapping it between the worlds, rendering it forever incapable of ever crossing over again.'

Wesley leant in closer, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. 'Dangerous?'

Giles leant back in his chair. 'It hardly presents us with any greater threat than any of the other plans we have still to devise.'

'Point made,' Wes mumbled.

'What does it involve?' Angel asked.

'Dark magic,' Giles answered shortly. 'We must literally dig a trench between the worlds, force Helhesten into it and, um, close it after it...using means I have yet to uncover.'

'An ancient Greek practice,' Wes took the seat beside the other Watcher.

'Indeed,' Giles confirmed.

'I believe the earliest record of a similar attempt predates Homer.' Wesley's attention was reserved the book in his hand, whose tattered pages he turned roughly, clearly searching for something. 'Demons and spirits of the dead that had escaped the Underworld could be sent back using a specific spell.' He looked up. 'I had never considered it could work with something like this.'

'I believe it could,' Giles said, 'though it would involve toying with powers that could easily get out of control.'

'This already is out of control,' Wesley pointed out.

'True,' Giles admitted, 'but we should not dash recklessly into a potentially fatal situation with minimum knowledge of our foe.'

'Hear, hear,' Xander muttered with a blatant lack of enthusiasm.

'How can this be done?'

Giles met Angel's eyes briefly. 'It requires a specific spell and it must be done before a church, preferably one where a horse was buried centuries ago –'

'Which could prove to be a problem,' Wesley muttered without raising his eyes. 'Unless we can devise a way to bring this thing with us to Scandinavia, I think we can rule out that option.'

Giles thoughtfully turned a page, his eyes scanning the indecipherable writing. 'Yet, it is possible to perform the ritual and the spell at a church where its spirit has not earlier dwelled. Although it would result in the need of even stronger magic, I am confident it could be done.'

'Willow and I could go and get the stuff you need for the spell.' Xander got to his feet, surveying Giles with uncertain nervousness.

Giles did not look up. 'Good. Um, yes, I-I will write you a list.'

The whirlwind in Angel's mind was picking up strength again and no matter how hard he tried to shut the images out, they still sped past his inner eye, unbidden and unwanted.

Buffy and Spike.

Spike and Buffy.

Of course he had known about it, down to the tiniest detail he wanted nothing to do with, and during the one-on-one part of the trip, he had had plenty of time to imagine it as well, but nothing compared to the icy feeling of actually seeing it. He swallowed.

'How do you dig a trench between dimensions?' The question was only half-hearted; a futile attempt at distracting his garbled thoughts from the fact that Buffy and Spike had been gone far too long.

It was Wesley who answered. 'It consists of a particular ritual, and must be performed on a holy spot where the spirits of the dead linger, because this is where the veil between the worlds is at it thinnest and can be broken.'

Angel nodded. So far he followed the theory.

Wesley got to his feet and walked to the opposite side of the room, placing the book he had been going through back on the shelf. 'The ritual consists of a spell, Holy Water and oxen blood, the trench itself being carved into the earth using a knife that disappeared from Belarus a couple of centuries ago.'

'Wes –' Angel began uncertainly.

'But since we neither have a church with the remains of a horse underneath it nor the right knife, we will just have to make do with some more magic.'

'And considering our record with the stuff, success is a guarantee,' Xander sneered sarcastically.

Wesley ignored the comment. Giles was finishing translating the names of the ingredients of the spell onto a separate sheet of paper and did not answer either. Angel's thoughts returned to two of the three missing participants and he did not notice the book Wesley dropped in front of him.

x

It was strange how her mind had gone blank. Buffy had at least expected to become angry, happy, confused, something. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, watching her with his trademark nonchalance, waiting for her to speak. What did you say to your ex-lover when he suddenly materialised in your living room, almost a year after his memorial service had been held? Hi, how are you? How did you come back? You look exactly the same.

Only he did not, Buffy suddenly noticed. There was a darkness in his eyes she only remembered seeing there once before, the steely determination that had burned there when he stood with the weight of the world on his shoulders, sacrificing himself to save a world that did not want him and a girl he knew did not love him. Determination, sincerity and understanding; a steadfast refusal of despairing, even when he looked the end of the world and his own death in the eyes. And she realised where she knew that look from; that was how Angel had looked every time he had feared for her safety and how he always looked now.

'I would have wanted to know,' she finally managed, not too surprised to find her voice hoarse.

Spike looked down, averting her eyes and nodded.

Buffy bit her lip. The words were catching in her throat but she knew she had to do this. 'We are not coming back together.'

His dark eyes met hers and held them. 'No,' he finally said.

Relief flooded her mind, swiftly joined by shame that she could feel like that upon pushing him away. 'It will be better that way,' she said. 'For both of us.'

A sad half-smile crept across Spike's face. 'Yes.'

'You must have felt it too, or you wouldn't have kept it from me.'

'Thank you,' Spike said quietly, succeeding in making Buffy completely confused. Why would he thank her now? After what she had just said to him? Apparently he saw her bewilderment. 'For making me alive for a short while and for giving me back my belief in redemption, for making me believe I was worth it.'

Buffy felt winded as though someone had just rammed an iron fist into her stomach. She felt her mouth move but could not get the words out, as she stood meeting his sincere and trusting gaze. He had wanted to change because of her; he thanked her for making him a better person.

Spike looked down and stiffly got to his feet. 'And though you never really loved me, it does not matter that much anymore because you gave me that,' his eyes found hers again. 'And he needs you more than me now.'

Buffy blinked at him. 'Angel?'

Spike sighed. 'The one and only. Don't go too hard on him...I think Peaches might have bitten off more than even he can chew this time.'

She looked into his eyes. 'I'm sorry.'

He shook his head. 'No. You're not.'

Buffy cocked her head, searching his face for anger, frustration, anything that would betray his disappointment in her, but she found nothing. 'Friends?' she asked.

Both his eyebrows shot upward at this as though he found her suggestion hilarious. For a moment he watched her like this, with quiet bemusement, and she began to suspect that that might not have been the right thing to say.

'Uh...I...'

He cut her off. 'Friends,' he nodded.

'Really?' She could have kicked herself for the breezy relief that tinged her voice.

He held out his half-empty packet of cigarettes as a way of responding. She wrinkled her nose.

'Eugh, no thanks. I have grown rather attached to my lungs.'

Spike grinned at her and jammed one between his own teeth. 'Wanna join the party?' The words came out a bit slurred.

She marched out of the room and he fell into track beside her. 'I missed you,' she said quietly.

They had reached the top of the stairs before Spike answered. 'Good,' he said with a mischievous grin.

x

Willow and Xander had left by the time Buffy and Spike entered the room. Angel had spend some time half-listening to Giles and Wesley's heated discussion about when, where and how they would trap Helhesten, until he finally got enough of their nagging and decided that he would be able to concentrate better upon the stack of books Wesley had found for him to research if he left them to their own devices.

The study was a relatively small room, too stacked with bookshelves and heaps of unsorted volumes for him to decide upon the actual area of the floor. There were neither table nor chairs, but Angel slumped comfortably down in a sitting position upon the floor, leaning his back against the bare wall. It was early morning and the sun had risen but the absence of any windows in the room's walls made it possible for him to flip calmly through the books' old, yellowing pages.

From the living room came the muffled sound of Giles' voice and Buffy's voice answered. Angel turned a page without having as much as looked at it. He wished he knew what had happened between her and Spike; if for nothing else then to silence the many imaginative outcomes his unruly brain tirelessly succeeded in conjuring up. A floorboard creaked beside him and he started to his feet.

'Hey!' Buffy's blonde head appeared in the open door.

Angel removed his hand from its spot by his belt where it had instinctively brushed against the wooden stake he had forgotten he had there.

She smiled broadly at him and sat down upon the floor, clapping the spot beside her, gesturing for him to join her. 'Did I get you?'

He offered her a brief half-smile before slumping down beside her, picking up the book again. 'It won't happen again,' he promised playfully.

Buffy snuggled closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder. 'Who did you think would attack you here anyway? I mean, Xander's out and Giles is too busy verbally wrestling with Wesley to even notice you went in here, so I think you're in the safety zone.'

'Spike?' Angel asked.

He could feel her chuckle as she huddled against his chest. 'We're cool, you can breathe freely.' She paused, and he could hear the frown in her voice. 'Well, you know what I mean.'

Her blonde locks rained down over his shoulder as she tilted her head to look into his face. Angel met her hazel eyes and something gave a jolt inside him. But it was not of happiness, it was shame and guilt and he knew he would have to tell her. And not afterwards, not later. Now.

He swallowed.

'I have a son.'

Buffy's head snapped round with inhuman speed as she pushed herself slightly away from him. 'What?' she whispered breathlessly.

It was hard but Angel did not look away. 'It was my son who lost his mind.' The words were getting stuck in his throat. He knew he did not breathe and yet it was as if every time he saw that betrayed look in her eyes he did not get enough air to speak. 'I drove my own son mad...'

Buffy had gotten to her feet and Angel stood up too, not even noticing the book as it slipped from his hand. She blinked in shock. 'You had a – you did – even when we – before -'

'No, after I left.'

Clearly, Buffy did not understand that part. 'But he wouldn't be more than an infant!'

Angel bit his lip, wondering how to explain that part. 'He grew up in a demon dimension –'

'With whom?' Angel knew Buffy was trying to keep her voice even, but it still shook with anger, disappointment, despair.

He felt sick. 'With Darla.'

Buffy crossed and uncrossed her arms before her chest. 'But she's dead.'

'Wolfram and Hart resurrected her.'

Buffy nodded, her lips merely a thin line in her pale face. 'And you just seized the opportunity to jump into her pants?'

His mouth felt dry. 'No, Buffy –'

Angel reached out for her but she scuttled backwards, her face a contorted mask of fury.

'Shut up! I don't want to know!'

And that was the problem because she had to. She had to understand. But his mouth, brain and heart refused to cooperate.

'You have to know why!'

She took a trembling breath. 'I have to know why you lied to me? You need a reason?'

It felt as though something was rotting inside him. 'Yes.'

'You lied to me, Angel!' she screamed and kicked the nearest heap of books, sending loose papers and old volumes scuttling across the floor. 'You lied to me!'

'Yes.'

She glared at him, fuming with rage. 'So, is there a vampire in LA you haven't fucked?'

Angel met her glower, accepting her fury. 'It wasn't like that!'

'No, I'm sure it wasn't!' she spat and had turned to leave the room.

He could not allow that. 'Listen to me!'

She spun on her feet. 'No! So you just come back here to see me because she left you all alone in the cold and harsh world of a centrally heated office?'

'She died.'

'Sorry if I don't start blubbing my eyes out over that one.' Buffy's eyes had become glassy but Angel suspected it was tears of anger rather than sorrow. 'You leave me behind so you can fuck your old lover with good conscience, huh? You lie and keep information from me, trying to make me believe that everything was like before, that it would work out, be the same. You lied to me!'

'Yes.' And that was what made him feel sick, rotten; he had lied to her, expected everything without ever giving. Now, he had finally betrayed her, cut the wound too deep to heal.

'All this time, you been – oh god –' And it was not when she was shouting at him, yelling at him, it was worst. The worst was the hopelessness in her voice, the utter despair that followed the realisation that he had been capable of deceiving her like that.

'Buffy -'

And she hit him. Her fist connected with his jaw and her slayer strength made him stagger under her blow, bright fireworks erupting before his eyes.

'I trusted you,' she began shaking her head, backing slowly away from him. 'I trusted you with my love for all these years and you spit it back in my face.' She looked at him; a strange composure overcoming her and her face was hard and cold. 'I never thought you could do this to me, Angel. I never thought you could be like all the rest.' And she turned and was gone, leaving him standing alone in an empty room, watching her disappear out of his life for the second time.

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Author's thanks:

nimwen (thanks for still being here!), AngelicDreams (I don't actually know how you would pronounce 'Helhesten' in English since it is from Danish folklore...), legolasgal, AlwaysHoldingOn (I hate Nina as well, though not nearly as much as I hate the corrupt writers of the show who thought that she could replace someone like Buffy in Angel's and our hearts!), Tariq (Thanks sooo much for your review!! I was so afraid I had lost you somewhere in the muddle that is my story :-), Lynn (Thanks so much! Nice to know people are reading and liking!), Wesfan1234 (I love writing Spike. Think it shows :-), shahid () a2zmom (There are definitely feelings between Buffy and Spike, which I tried to show in this chapter, but I think that they both know and knew it was never love), DDuck (Great review, thank you so much! It is great when readers notice the subtle points in a story and even takes time out to comment! Thanks! I will try and keep it up :-) Seraph's Rhapsody (I would love to! Really, really, really!) and UberWicca (Thanks so much for your review! There is just no better inspiration than a positive reader:-) I promise I will email you some of my work later in the week, and I would love to see some of your work too!)

Author's Notes:

I am so sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. It was not intentional, I promise! Oh, yes, and this chapter kinda took off on its own so more Wes action and magic to come in the next chapters....Well, if you can still remember what this is all about please review :-)