Chapter Two

Where The Wild Things Are

Takes place during "Beauty and The Beasts"

I am Angel. I have a soul. I have a purpose.

It was dark and quiet. So quiet that he could hear the rustle of the rabbit in the bushes ahead.

He closed his eyes and listened.

The wild smell of its fur. The rush of its blood. The beating of its heart, quicker now that it realized it was being hunted.

It sprang from the bushes, quicker than a human eye could have followed.

Not fast enough.

He had it.

The death was quick and there was warm blood in his mouth.

Human blood would have been better and there would have been more of it.

He'd seen humans in the woods.

He'd stalked closer to them, close enough to hear them talking and laughing.

Something inside him ached.

He caught himself growling.

This was all just another illusion. He was still in that hell. They were playing a game, like the ones before.

It occurred to him that it wouldn't matter if he killed one of the humans. An illusion wasn't real. They weren't real.

None of it would be real. And unreal death didn't matter.

He took a step closer. He heard himself growling again.

I am Angel. I have a soul. I have a purpose.

The thought stopped him in his tracks.

A purpose. What is it though?

No. He wasn't going to commit murder. Unreal or otherwise.

They could tempt him but he wasn't falling for their tricks.

He knew his name now. He remembered what he had been, what he could have been.

If only…

Growling again. He let it continue, the soft rumbling in his chest and throat was comforting in a way.

Maybe it would make them think he was lost in the madness. And maybe he was, a little. But not as much as before.

He remembered after all.

He knew this was a lie.

This time seemed different though.

Before, they had made him happy. Given him what he wanted.

Buffy.

But, since this new illusion had started, he'd been alone.

He was not happy.

And yet, it had to be an illusion… didn't it?

If it wasn't an illusion then… he was…

Home.

There were sounds.

Soft steps. Careful. Another hunter was in the woods.

Then he saw her.

Buffy.

Shock, and then rage.

Here it was. They were setting it up! It was an illusion! Here she was, to make him feel! To make him weak and vulnerable.

That wasn't going to happen, not this time.

Angel attacked.

He snarled and knocked the thing that looked like Buffy to the ground.

The look on her face gave him pause. The scent was Buffy's.

It hurt him.

Without quite realizing it, he had had hope that he was wrong.

That this wasn't an illusion.

But how could it not be?

He growled his anger and attacked again.

They struggled.

She hit him, then he hit her.

Again, she hit him and he went down hard.

He tried to get up but darkness clouded the edges of his vision, then took it completely.

She was chaining him when he woke up.

Weak, he growled and snarled, lunging at her.

End it! He thought, almost screamed it but couldn't bring himself to give them that.

Why did this continue? Didn't they have what they wanted? What they always wanted? He was defeated. It should be over.

It wasn't.

The thing that looked like Buffy left the mansion.

He waited for something terrible to happen but there was only quiet.

Angel was exhausted and try as he might, there was no staving off unconsciousness. He closed his eyes, sure that when he opened them again, some new horror would descend.

He woke up and heard her coming. Getting to his feet, he crouched down low and stared at the floor, determined not to look at her, not to be taken in by the lie.

She was staring at him.

"Angel." She said and he wanted to scream at the sound of it. Never had the Buffy illusions said his name before.

"Do you… understand me?" she asked. Her voice was so soft, so caring. It shook him to his core.

She approached him slowly. Then he felt her touch his shoulder. The briefest of contact, but it was so warm.

No! You will not win!

Angel growled and lunged away from her. The snarling continued until she left.

There was a soft creak above his head. Looking up he saw the metal bracket he was chained to move slightly as he pulled on the chain.

Break free. Break free and… do what?

He pulled down on the chains. The muscles of his arms flexed and sweat broke out on his chest and back.

He didn't have his full strength but he was still very strong.

The metal creaked and then groaned under the pressure.

Break free. Then… What?

Would it be over then?

He stopped pulling on the chains.

Angel thought about the things he remembered. The illusions he'd dealt with in the past had ended when they had gotten what they wanted. Once he'd reached the apex of pain and horror, the illusion stopped.

They had given him thousands of illusions, but they had figured out quickly which ones caused the most pain.

Buffy's death.

Now they wanted her to cause him pain in a new away. She was torturing him. Chaining him, then showing him kindness.

Saying his name.

He didn't remember her illusion being so warm or smelling so sweet before.

So real. So warm and real.

A cold chill went through Angel's body.

Buffy's illusions had never been warm.

This one was.

Could it be…?

Angel pulled down on the chains harder. The metal shrieked but held.

He continued, grunting, the shackles cutting into his wrists, unrelenting.

The sun was going down when the bracket finally gave.

Angel ran from the mansion, immediately picking up the scent.

Buffy's scent.

Sunnydale High School loomed up in the dark.

Even with the mix of so many other scents, he knew hers and knew she was here.

As he approached, her scent became stronger but there as another smell there as well.

It wasn't demon but not human either.

The breeze blew toward him and her scent became stronger again.

But this time it was mingled with fear.

Angel hurried toward a small building. Inside he heard a struggle going on.

Whatever was happening, Buffy was inside.

Angel's face morphed into that of his vampire self and he kicked open the door.

Buffy was on the floor, looming over her was to all appearances, a demon.

Angel didn't care what it was. He attacked slamming the chains he still wore into the face of the demon.

The monster fought back and Angel was vaguely aware of Buffy scrambling out of their way.

For a few moments, the thing seemed as if it might be stronger. Angel renewed his efforts and got a length of chain around its throat.

He pulled and snapped its neck.

Panting from his efforts, Angel slowly turned.

This, he figured, would be the moment of truth.

Either this was an illusion and would end…

Or…

Angel stared at Buffy. His face reverted back to his human one and he approached her slowly.

She stared at him, shocked and a little afraid.

It was real emotion he saw there.

"Buffy…?" he said softly and knew she was real.

This was real.

He was home.

Angel fell to his knees and put his arms around her.

His sleep was fitful. Nightmares descended on him without mercy as his mind tried to cope with all he'd been through.

But, each time he awoke, Buffy was there. Watching over him.

The look on her face reminding him that the dreams weren't real. There were no more illusions, this was reality.

He was home and she was there.

He had survived.

He was Angel

Once again.