Part Twenty-Four

Oh, baby, anywhere you go, we are bound together I begin, baby, where you end some things are forever

At first Angel thought he'd died, the pain from the gaping wound in his chest had vanished, and the back bending position he'd been in slumped against the dead snake, suddenly felt soft and comfortable, he couldn't hear any of the noise he knew must soaring up around him, and could only see Buffy's perfectly formed face, blood streaked from the fight, her mouth open in surprise.

He blinked and the moment was gone, pain shot through his joints, tighter and more intense than he ever remembered feeling it, though he'd suffered injuries worse than this before. Buffy had overcome her shock, and was by his side, hesitantly trying to bandage up to the blood pulsing from his wounds. Gently pushing her away he smiled weakly.

"Do you want some blood?" she asked quietly.

He paused eyeing the raised scar at the juncture between her neck and shoulder, and the idea of drinking from her twisted his gut a little. "No."

She frowned. "Are you sure? 'Cos you're in a bad way, and super charged healing solution? Wouldn't kill you right now."

He smiled at her concern. "I don't need it."

Buffy gazed at him sceptically but didn't say anything more. Pulling off her shirt so she was clad only in her bra and jeans, she began systematically stripping the shirt into pieces to patch his wounds at least temporarily. Posessively, Angel growled at her near nakedness. She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't be such a prude, it's not like you haven't seen a helluva lot more than this of me before."

"It's not me I'm worried about." He shot back.

Laughing at his jealousy she helped him take off his own shirt. "So give me yours instead." She suggested. He rapidly increased the speed with which he was struggling to take off the shirt with.

Sitting up Willow felt her eyes roll back groggily and fought to keep conscious. The sharp smell of the salts used to wake her sat sweet and heavy in her nostrils and the warm sticky liquid dribbling down her face and into her hair all piled in to make her head feel like it was stuffed full of cotton wool. Taking a moment to get back into her natural rhythm of breathing she smiled weakly at a concerned Giles leaning over her.

Seeing that the Wicca had recovered Faith let out a sigh of relief. "Glad to see you back in the land of the liv… er, well, more undead really."

"Glad to be back." Willow assured her. Glancing around the lobby she caught sight of Wesley and Doyle deep in conversation with a scared looking Connor, and vaguely she wondered when they had arrived, it had been pretty damn scary being anywhere near that snake-thing, but if Connor had seen it, it would have been terrifying for him.

Spike was talking in low tones on a cell-phone, probably hiring a clean up squad… she tried to move her arm and winced. Maybe she should ask him for an ambulance.

Oz was sitting on the floor by the door, eyes locked on her, hands playing with the wooden Tibetan beads he'd been given when he first started to learn how to control his wolfie side. He looked kind of scared. With a little help from Giles she got to her feet and headed toward him. Oz had just had a very potent reminder that he'd been thrown into the wacky world of wicca Willow, and the only question was, was he prepared to stay in it? As the steps between them shortened Oz sent Willow and blinding half-smile. Willow bit her lip trying to hide her smile in response. Things where looking up.

When Buffy and Angel finally moved round the side of the snake carcass and came into view, Angel was looking pretty bad, he was paler than usual and even his smaller wounds seemed reluctant to heal, while many of Buffy's had already disappeared.

"Angelus? Riding a snake did you in?" Spike asked cockily.

Angel muttered "Shut up." Into Buffy's shoulder, and Buffy passed it on with a slight glare at Spike.

"Giles? Could you help me get Angel back to the apartment?"

Giles was stood cleaning his glasses, and as Buffy's voice registered he looked up at her, a little surprised that his independent Slayer had asked his help. "Yes, of course." Slipping the glasses on, he tried to reign in the double take at Angel battered form. Trying not to be too disconcerted by the fact that Angel looked as though he'd just been run over by a battle tank, Giles smiled weakly, and went over to help Buffy support her lover's weight.

A fresh white bandage wrapped around her head and dancing on the balls of her feet as Buffy, Giles and Angel approached her position by the door. Willow glanced anxiously between Buffy and Angel. "Did it… I mean, did you feel it?"

Buffy smiled, a faint glimmer of fire dancing in her eyes. "Yeah… that was something."

"It worked." Willow glowed.

Buffy just smiled.

"I'm going to do the recitation spell tonight to take myself out of the link between yourself and Angel, now the demon's gone there's no risk." She quickly assured them as she felt Angel raise his eyes to meet hers.

"See you tomorrow then." Angel murmured quietly.

And sensing she'd held them up enough, Willow moved away to let them pass, the buzz of success still flying through her veins despite the obvious physical damage sustained in the meantime. But she couldn't help it. She finally felt like she'd done something right with her powers.

The first pink rays of dawn where inching through the open curtains as Angel woke up the next morning. Buffy was curled up next to him in one of his clean shirts and he wondered if he'd ever actually get to wear any of his clothes with her around to steal them. Not that he minded, she looked incredibly hot in his shirts. Maybe that was just the whole possessive thing again. He smirked to himself, running one hand down her thigh he carefully shifted her position til he was able to get up, desperately ignoring the way the temperature of her skin rose every time he touched her. He didn't want to wake her just yet. Running one hand through his hair, he figured a shower would be a good way to start the day, and glancing at the small collection of jewellery on the table beside the bed he walked out into the living room, breathing in the fresh clean scent of the morning air as though it was the first time he'd smelt it in two hundred and fifty years.

Breathing deeply as he moved to the bathroom, he glanced down at the still open wound on his chest and dark thoughts clouded his mind as he wondered again why it was being so slow to heal. Stepping up to the sink he ran his hands under the water before rubbing his wet hands over his face. Feeling the rough stubble under his skin he contemplated shaving. Glancing up at the mirror over the sink he doubled over in pain.

"What's wrong Angel?" Angel struggled for breath as the pain in his stomach, shot up his spine and settled at the back of his neck, making him arch back in pain. The saccharine sweet voice laughed gently at his position. "But you used to like it when it hurt. I distinctly remember you telling Darla that as you celebrated above our family grave." Angel dry reached into the tiles, the pain blinding and the voice… a billion times worse.

Pulling himself up on his elbows, Angel leaned against the bath eyes darting around the room for the source of the voice.

"Kait…" He ground out… unable to understand why he couldn't see the girl that had haunted his dreams all night.

"Angel?"

Angel sighed at the sound of Buffy's voice, glancing back toward the door he saw her hesitantly standing by the doorframe as she watched his broken form slumped against the tiles. "Angel…" She asked again tentatively.

Angel eyes met hers, and sighing heavily he struggled to pull himself up to his feet and Buffy rushed over instantly to help him. "There's something wrong with me." He muttered his eyes darting over the room and away from the mirror.

Buffy looked up at him, drawing his dark eyes down to hers, slowly she moved her hand from where it had been resting on his forearm to hover over his chest. "Like the fact you have a heartbeat?" Buffy ventured.

"I don't…" he shook his head a little, and his eyes darted away from her again, until she gently touched his face and brought his lips down to hers for one breathtaking moment.

"And the fact you breathe." She sighed against his lips.

"I'm not…" Wrapping his arms around her waist he tucked her head under his chin and breathed in her hair. "When Willow evicted the fear-demon she must've evicted me as well." He whispered in her hair.

Pulling back from him, so there eyes met again she shook her head. "Then why are you still here?" Touching one hand to his lips she smiled. "You where never just a demon in a dead man's body. You where a demon, the body, and what was left of the dead man."

"With a touch of your soul." He reminded her.

"And now you're that dead man living again, with a little bit of me to tide you over." She glanced at him, nose scrunched in thought. "And, I guess, all the memories of the demon."

"But I…" He pulled away from her. "You know what kind of man I was, Buffy."

"I know."

Glancing back at her over his shoulder he shook his head. "You don't, I was never a righteous man, a man worth saving."

"Then I guess someone up there really wants you to learn the error of your ways." Buffy joked lightly, the sterile cleanliness of the freshly scrubbed bathroom made her feel cold, and wrapping her arms around herself Buffy missed his new warm touch. "You're really an Angel now."

Turning back to face her, Angel cocked his head to study her. "How can you love me still? I'm not the same person you knew yesterday."

"I didn't know I had the choice!" She finally cried out in frustration, "Whether you're the demon or the man, or the half-breed between. I try not to love you, but I can't stop!"

"I can't either." Cradling her head in his hands he pressed his lips against hers violently. Pulling away he gasped for breath. "Every time I close my eyes I see them." He whispered.

"See who?" She breathed against his lips.

"See their faces…" he continued as though he hadn't heard her, "their eyes wide in fear, gasping for breath as their skin went waxy pale."

"It wasn't you." Buffy insisted. "It wasn't your fault."

"Then why do they blame me?" He demanded. "I'm just a weak man… I was weak when I let the demon take me, and I'm weak for not leaving you when I should. All I want to do is loose myself in you, and damn the world."

"Well you can damn the world in hospital, 'cos if you're mortal now then that very debilitating wound in your stomach is going to kill you."

Glancing down at it, Angel sighed. "I thought you didn't like hospitals?"

"I'm prepared to go there for you." She smiled. "Just like I'm prepared to ignore that crap you just spouted about not leaving me being weak." Wrapping one hand around his side, she helped him out of the bathroom, flipping off the light as they moved out of the room. "Strong is fighting. It's hard, sometimes it's so hard I can't stand it, but some things are worth fighting for. Like us."

TBC…

Extreme apologies for the lateness, I was going to post this on Monday but I kept not being home… and then there was just badness. The bad news is holidays end next week for me, and long delays for posts are likely to happen more often than they have through the summer.

I wasn't entirely sure about the ending to this, but thought it was better to send out Something than keep you waiting even longer.

Oh, something someone mentioned and I feel I ought to clear up, Riley's dead. He was unconscious in the Initative when it blew up… so he's kinda dead and can no longer be bashed. I'll try for the odd side comment if you're missing the bashing though!

Reviews were very much appreciated! As would more be!

Will try to be speedy wit the next part!

Weasy