Catch me as I fall
Say you're here and it's all over now
Speaking to the atmosphere
No one's here and I fall into myself
This truth drives me
Into madness
I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away
Don't turn away (Don't give in to the pain)
Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name)
Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them)
Don't turn out the light (Never sleep never die)
I'm frightened by what I see
But somehow I know
That there's much more to come
Immobilized by my fear
And soon to be
Blinded by tears
I can stop the pain if I will it all away
Don't turn away (Don't give in to the pain)
Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name)
Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them)
Don't turn out the light (Never sleep never die)
Fallen angels at my feet
Whispered voices at my ear
Death before my eyes
Lying next to me I fear
She beckons me
Shall I give in
Upon my end shall I begin
Forsaking all I've fallen for
I rise to meet the end
Don't turn away (Don't give in to the pain)
Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name)
Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them)
Don't turn out the light (Never sleep never die)
Don't turn away (Don't give in to the pain)
Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name)
Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them)
Don't turn out the light (Never sleep never die)
Don't turn away (Don't give in to the pain)
Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name)
Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them)
Don't turn out the light (Never sleep never die)
(Never sleep never die)
Servatis a pereculum.
Servatis a maleficum
"Whipser"
Evanescence
Chapter Three
Whisper
Spike lay face down on his cot, his head turned sideways. He stared at the still form of Angel, feeling chaotic emotions washing over him. He wanted to go out, to hurt something, to kill something. Wanted to kill everything, if it would bring Angel back to this world. And at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to destroy the stoic vampire who lay across the room – wanted to demolish him for ever existing, for ever bringing out these feelings concealed deep within Spike. Wanted Angel to suffer…
Because the truth was, Spike suffered – he suffered at every moment, seeing Angel there, constantly, and not being able to tell him the facts.
The facts were thus: Spike was in love. And he was in love with Angel.
In the past few hours, while drifting in and out of sleep, Spike had come to that horrible yet glorious conclusion. He was, and had been, in love with Angel for some time. He knew it had hit him before, the thought that he loved his grand sire. He could remember turning down the chance to travel to anywhere else in this world, as well as out of it, because of feelings and emotions that, at the time, he had denied and hidden.
And still, he hid these thoughts, though he no longer denied them… to himself anyway. He refused to admit these – sentiments – to anyone else, living or dead. He just wasn't one to open up to people. He was not one for sharing.
Spike heard the door at the top of the basement steps open. Soft footfalls descended, but he did not move. He simply continued to watch Angel intently, hoping that he would snap out of this and it would all be a bad dream.
"Hey," Faith's husky voice broke the silence Spike had been drowning in. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. "We're about to go get Willow. Her plane should be here in about thirty minutes. Can we get you anything while we're out?"
Spike shook his head, pushing himself up onto his elbow and looking at the Slayer standing by him.
"No, thanks," he said quietly. She smiled sadly.
"Will can bring him back, man," she told him, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. Spike nodded.
"I know Old Red can do it," he agreed. "I just worry about how long it will take, is all."
Faith crouched down next to his cot and stared at Angel's body across the room. "She'll get him back as quickly as she can." Faith sighed and stood, walking back to the stairs. Spike listened as she climbed the steps, her feet falling much heavier on the steps, as though she had just taken on a tremendous burden. The door opened then closed, and Spike lay back down. How ever long it took to get Angel back would always be far too long.
"Faith!" Willow Rosenberg walked happily into a hug, grasping Faith tightly, her smile genuine. "It's great to see you!" The two pulled apart, and she turned to Wood. "You too," she said, giving him a hug as well. "Glad I could finally come back to the States – Europe's great, but it rains too much there."
"I thought you were in Africa?" Faith asked as the three wound their way to the exits – Willow had brought only one carry-on, as she was not expecting to be there for long.
"I was," Willow said, smiling. "But my 'assignment' there ended and I went back to England – got working with the Coven again, and I'm helping Giles with reforming the Watcher's Council. That's a real mess, let me tell ya." Faith and Wood nodded as they got into the car – a silver Chevy Impala. Willow slid into the back seat.
"So, what sorta top secret mojo are we workin'?" Willow asked excitedly.
"You remember when Buffy went catatonic?" Faith asked. Willow looked confused for a moment.
"Yeah, course I do, it was right after Glory made off with Dawn, but… how… how did you know that?" Faith winked.
"Long story. One that I can explain much easier back at home." The conversation halted momentarily as Wood pulled up to the ticket booth and paid their tab for parking. "But that's what we need – we need someone brought back to our world; our realm. Is there anything you need that you didn't bring? There are a lot of shops around here that sell magic ingredients and shit, we could probably get anything you need."
"Nope, I got everything. Except candles. Do you have candles?" Willow asked. Faith smirked.
"We got candles alright," she said. Wood glanced over at her and grinned.
"They've been lit before – that make a difference?" he asked. Willow shook her head.
"Nope, as long as they still light, we're good to go."
"Then we are five by five," Faith said, settling back for the ride home.
Along the way, Willow talked to the two about things in Europe: the new Watcher's Council, Buffy, Dawn, Xander, the new Watchers themselves, new Slayers, and anything else she could think of. Faith noticed that not once did the young witch bring up Kennedy, a Slayer she had been dating during the final battle against The First – but Faith kept quiet, not wanting to bring up anything that might distract Willow from her task. The car pulled into a parking garage, and Willow sighed.
"You doin' OK, Will?" Faith asked as the three walked through the mostly empty lot and into the building.
"Just, kinda, nervous really," Willow shrugged. "Out on my own, magic always tends to give me that sorta feelin' in my tummy – like I've swallowed a cave full of bats – and they're all trying to get out again. I just… I don't wanna go all…" she trailed off as Wood unlocked the door and they stepped in.
"Welcome home," he said as Willow stepped through the door.
"This is great," she said, turning around in a circle. "I mean, it's really nice!"
"Yeah," Faith said, shrugging casually. "You can say it – it's practically a hell hole."
"No," Willow said quickly. "You're in hiding, and this is a great place that won't draw attention to you!" Faith laughed.
"Yeah, I don't think many people would look for me here," she said, smiling. "Now, I do believe I owe you an explanation."
"That's right!" Willow said, her features turning stern. "This is my resolve face – you will tell me or you will not get any help. See? Resolve face."
"Actually, I'm not going to tell you," Faith said, leading her down a hallway to the right and towards the door that lead to the basement. "I'm gonna show you." Willow looked confused, but followed obediently. Faith knocked on the door, then opened it.
"You boys decent?" she called. Scrambling came from the darkened basement, and Willow strained to try and see around Faith. The only thing she could see at the moment though were the steps leading down, and the floor immediately at the bottom of them.
"Is she here?" Willow's eyes widened as she recognized a voice she hadn't heard in more than a year and a half.
"Oh my…" she whispered. "Spike?"
As if on cue, Spike appeared at the bottom of the steps, wearing dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt. He stared up at the witch he hadn't seen since…
"Willow," he whispered. Life seemed to flood his dead body, and he took the steps two at a time; Faith just moved out of the way before Spike caught Willow in a tight hug, burying his face in her hair.
"Thank the Powers you're here," he breathed, holding her as tightly as he dared. Her arms wrapped around him, and she smiled.
"I could say the same about you," she mused as the two pulled apart, "but I don't know how… or why… you're here at all. I thought – "
"I did," he nodded. "I burned to ashes under the high school back in Sunnydale. It was the amulet." Willow slapped her forehead.
"Of course – it held mystical influence over your essence, and could therefore bring you back into this plane of existence. The only question is – how?"
"And that is the question, love," Spike told her. "I remember the high school, and then next thing I know, I'm a bloody ghost standin' in Angel's office at Wolfram & Hart. Becoming corporeal again is a really long and painful story – suffice it to say, I got a bit of ghost post and suddenly, I was back in the game."
"This is just insane," Willow said.
"It is," Spike agreed, turning and walking back down the steps. Willow followed closely. "So now, Angel and I been hidin' out. Just got here the other day, to Cleveland. Found Faith and Wood." The two were walking across the room. Willow saw a cot with –
"Angel," she gasped, kneeling quickly beside him. She looked up at Spike. "What happened?"
"He's been seeing things," Wood said. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, as was Faith. "Seeing ghosts. Says they keep blaming him for their deaths. Some of them are, in fact, people he killed. Others are friends."
"Cordelia was one of them," Faith said. Willow's eyes widened.
"Oh God, Cordy?" she murmured, her hands going to her mouth.
"It was a coma," Spike said gently, still standing. "Pretty complicated, but as usual, mystical." He paused. "I thought Angel told you all."
Willow shook her head, feeling a few tears fall. She had never been close friends with Cordelia Chase, but when Xander had dated her, she had at least not said anything bad about her. Even helped her at times. And now, she was dead.
"I've missed so much," she said sadly, wiping her face. "What else don't I know about? Where are Fred, and Wesley? And that other guy… Gunn? Or that green demon, Lorne, right? Where are they?"
Spike ran a hand through his un-gelled hair, looking down at her sadly. "Fred died… few months ago. She got this… coffin thing… in her lab – inhaled some dust, ended up being the spirit of one of The Old Ones – Ilyria."
"What?" Willow asked, disbelief clouding her face. Spike nodded.
"It's hard to believe, I know. And then… well, Angel decided to take on the Senior Partners – Wesley fell during his assignment. Died in Ilyria's arms. Gunn showed up for the final battle, but he died within minutes, he was so badly wounded. Lorne – I've no idea where he is, or how he is. He told us all he wouldn't meet us for the final battle – just as well though. Hope he got to a place where he could live and be happy – the fighter's life was never one for him. 'S why he left his home dimension, apparently."
Willow felt her heart break into tiny pieces of dust – she could not believe what had happened. All those people, some of them people she had known well, almost considered friends… all dead now. She wondered why it was that no one had at least told her about Wesley's death – his father was now one of the three Head Watchers… unless…
"No one else knows that, do they?" Willow asked, looked up at Spike as her tears fell. He shrugged gently.
"No idea – I thought Angel would have told you, or at least told Giles. I'm guessing he never made that call though." Willow shook her head. Spike kneeled next to her. "If it helps any, I think that he may not have been able to deal with it all – all the deaths. He feels like he's ruined so many people's futures, maybe he couldn't bring himself to admit that these lives are gone now as well." Willow nodded slightly, trying to comprehend what she was hearing.
"How long?" she asked, looking at Angel.
"Twenty five hours, thirty-seven minutes," Spike told her. She laughed tiredly.
"Could ya be a bit more precise?" she asked sarcastically. Spike smiled.
"How soon?" he asked her. Her smile lessened, and she cocked her head to one side.
"Not sure," she told him. "I was lucky with Buffy – I have no idea how long it will take on Angel." Spike nodded.
"Just tell me how I can help."
Night had fallen. Willow sat in the kitchen, sipping a cup of tea and going through her supplies. Spike sat across the table from her, watching keenly. She whispered to herself, going through a mental checklist of what to do once inside Angel's mind.
"And you're sure you can do this?" she asked Spike. He stared into her eyes.
"It'll help him, right?" he asked. Willow nodded. "Then I'm sure."
"Good," she said, sounding confident. "I think we're ready then."
The two made their way to the basement, where Faith and Wood had just finished setting up all the candles. Once lit, Faith and Wood made their way back up the stairs as Willow and Spike sat down on his cot, which had been pulled next to Angel's. Angel was propped up in a sitting position, staring into oblivion.
"Now, take hold of this," Willow said, offering Spike one end of a small crystal. Spike took it and held it tightly. Willow showed him her own crystal. "These will keep us together throughout the whole thing. If you drop the crystal, I'll lose you – which means I'll have to come out of Angel's mind to bring you back in, and I don't know if I can get us both back in after the first shot." Spike nodded.
"Let's do this," he whispered. Willow smiled, then took hold of his free hand.
"Close your eyes and open your mind to me," she whispered. Spike let his eyes roll back in his head, concentrating on letting Willow in.
A few moments later, he heard Willow's voice. "We're here," she said softly. Spike opened his eyes.
He stood, transfixed, watching as scene after scene flipped passed him like a giant television screen. No, not passed him. He was not sure how to put it – he was not a spectator, he was physically standing in every memory that whirled in front of his eyes; every moment of Angel's life and death – he was there.
"You shouldn't be here." Spike turned and saw Angel walking up to him. The memories slowed but continued flipping.
"Angel, we're here to get you back," Spike said. Angel looked behind him.
"Willow," he said in greeting. The young witch smiled back.
"Come on Angel," she said, holding out her hand. He stared at her, emotionless. Then he looked back at Spike.
"You should go," he said, turning and walking away from them. Spike looked back at Willow.
"We gotta follow him," she said softly. "Otherwise we won't be able to help him." Spike nodded.
"Angel!" he called out. "Angel, wait for us!"
Angel turned around, watching them catch up to him. "You really need to go," he told them, still emotionless. "I'll be fine here – "
"LIAM!" Spike looked around. The area was completely unrecognizable – he was certain he had never seen this place before. Angel turned to the sound of the voice, his eyes widening in fear.
"Coming, Father!" a young boy called. From behind Angel, a boy of no more than eight ran up a hill to the left. Angel looked back to his companions. "Really, you need to go. I'm fine here." He rushed up the hill after the boy and disappeared overtop of it.
"Come on!" Willow said, racing after him. Spike followed, trying to sort things out in his mind. Were they back in Ireland in the 1700's? He had never heard Angel referred to as Liam, but he knew that was his name. It made sense…
"I'll teach you to stay out with that no account Patrick O'Leary all day!" Spike was standing in front of a moderate house, looking into the front window with Willow. Angel was inside, watching as his eight year old self was given a severe beating from a man Spike presumed was his father. Angel stood beside his younger self, tears rolling down his face as he saw his father's hand raise in the air again and again. Spike felt his jaw clenching as he watched the cruelty Angel's father exacted on him.
"My Goddess," Willow gasped, placing a hand over her mouth. Spike placed an arm around her shoulders comfortingly, trying to hold himself together as the young boy cried out. He had never known about Angelus' family – Angelus' had warned that that subject was completely off limits. Spike had asked, of course, and Angelus had punished him.
"Go find me a pitchfork," the man barked at the boy, who now had bleeding welts on his back. The boy whimpered something that sounded like a protest, and his father pulled him up by his shirt.
"If I find the pitchfork myself, it'll be even worse," the man menaced. The boy's eyes widened and he shook his head, mumbling that he would find it and bring it right away. The man dropped him and the boy scrambled out of the house.
"I told you two to leave." Spike turned around to see Angel standing there behind them. Willow turned and looked at Angel with pity. The memories began flipping again, making Spike feel as though he were in a badly spliced movie – all the frames seemed out of order, and it was starting to make him sick to his stomach.
"Angel, we have to go," Willow said, holding out her hand. "Please?"
Angel looked at her hand, his face blank. The memories slowed, then stopped on one in particular. Angel looked around, then closed his eyes.
"You need to go," he said again, opening his eyes. "I can't come back. Not from this. I have to stay here." He stepped just passed them and stood, watching the scene. Spike began looking around. They were in London now. The center of town, with the fountain bubbling, the shops lit up, the cobbled roads. It looked like it had when he had last lived there – in fact, it looked like –
"Watch where you're going!" He turned and saw himself, known then as William, stumbling and stamping away from Darla, Angelus, and Drusilla. Drusilla turned to watch him with interest, while Darla merely scoffed about him. Angelus leaned into Drusilla, whispering something in her ear. She smirked and strode away from Darla and Angelus, walking carefully after William. Spike already knew what would happen when she caught up with him – she would turn him into a vampire. But he had never heard the true story behind Darla's sudden absence just after he was turned. Angel started walking after the couple, and Willow and Spike followed.
The five of them reached a large and very posh looking house – Spike forgot who had owned it. Darla and Angelus walked inside. Angel walked through the door. Willow and Spike followed him.
"What is wrong with you?" Darla shouted, turning and facing Angelus. Angelus grinned, which only proved to upset Darla further. "You dare to smile at me when I am so cross with you?" she yelled, her hand a blur of motion.
SMACK!
The sound resonated through the mostly empty house. Angelus brought a hand to his lips, pulling his fingers back to reveal blood.
"Ah, my Sweet Death, how could I ever smile in your presence?" he spat in that deep, Irish accent. He turned away from her. She frowned, grabbing his arm and turning him back to her.
"We have already fed for the night, and yet you goad her on, encouraging her to eat again! We shall be found out before long, and I will not hesitate to leave the both of you stranded!"
"What harm could it – "
SMACK!
Angelus glared this time, rubbing his cheek as Darla's face changed into her vampire visage. "Don't ever question me, Angelus," she warned. "I made you."
"I chose to let it happen," he told her, grabbing her throat. In a blur he had her against the wall, pinned. She looked at him, contempt written all over her features. His eyes glowed yellow, and he too changed into his vampire face. "Now tell me, Darla, exactly how you'll be apologizin'." She glared at him, then changed her features back.
"Put me down, Angelus?" she asked sweetly. He smirked, sliding her down the wall carefully – his grip never faltering. Her feet back on the ground, she began unbuttoning her dress. Angelus' grip relaxed slightly – and she seized her chance.
In a flash, a wooden stake had impaled the left side of his chest – inches below his heart. He staggered back from her, grabbing the stake and wrenching it out of him. Darla raced for the front door, shouting back to him, "I'm off to visit my Master – we'll see what he thinks of my treatment!" Angelus roared as he threw down the stake and stalked off to the bedroom.
"Angel," Willow called as the memories began switching again. Spike felt his stomach grow increasingly nauseous as the views changed constantly. Angel turned back to them, his eyes sad and lifeless.
"Please leave," he whispered. "I don't think I can stand your kindness."
"I'm not leaving unless you come with us," Spike said resolutely. Angel stared at him, then walked as close as he could to him.
"Why would you want me back in the world, Spike?" Angel asked him, his voice sounding desperate. "Give me one good reason to go back there."
The images were slowing again – this time, they were in a small apartment.
"Angel!"
Spike saw a very young Buffy run to Angel's side.
"Hey!"
"Oh!" She looked as though she had been worried about him.
"Hey."
Angel was different… Spike realized this was after he had turned back into Angelus. This was the morning after he and Buffy…
"Oh my God, I was so worried!" Buffy's eyes were watery as she held onto Angelus tightly, not knowing it wasn't Angel.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," Angelus told her soothingly. Spike felt a flare of anger – he had loved Buffy. They both had. And now, with a soul, it hurt to see Buffy get this end of the stake, so to speak.
"Where did you go?"
"Been around." Spike felt his heart breaking – he knew what it was like when Angel – or rather Angelus – just took off with no warning. It had hurt when he was still just barely twenty years old as a vampire. And it hurt now seeing him do this to Buffy.
"Ohhh. Oh my God! I was freaking out! You just disappeared!"
"What? I took off."
"But you didn't say anything. You just left."
Willow was crying silently next to him – she had, of course, heard all about how Angel had treated Buffy that morning. But to see it herself – to be there, in the memory – that hurt her so much more than she could have imagined.
"Buffy," Willow whispered. Angel stood next to her, watching the scene unfold.
"I, I don't understand. Was it m-me? Was I not good?" Buffy was crying, looking at Angelus in confusion.
"You were great. Really. I thought you were a pro."
"Stop." Spike looked over to see Angel crying now. "Stop! STOP!" he shouted. But the scene played on.
"Come on, Buffy. It's not like I've never been there before."
"Don't touch me."
"I'm sorry!" Angel rushed forward, trying to touch Buffy. But his fingers passed right through her like he was a ghost. He fell to his knees as the scene ended. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" He pitched forward, cowering in a ball like a scared animal. "I just want it to stop!"
Willow rushed forward, placing her arms around Angel. "Angel, we can make it stop," she said amidst his anguished howls. If you come with us, we can make it stop!"
He looked up at her now, his face tear streaked and blotchy. He shook his head. "No," he said sadly. "I have to be here – it's what I deserve."
"It is not bloody well what you deserve!" Spike shouted, taking a few steps towards Angel as the scenes continued their rotation. He walked to Angel's front and yanked him onto his feet. "You're a good man," Spike told him, trying to get Angel to believe him. "You want a reason to come back to our world, fine! Because you're a champion, Angel. A hero for the people."
Angel's sad brown eyes looked into sapphire blue. "Not good enough," he whispered. "I've helped a lot of people… but I've hurt a lot more."
Spike let go of him and turned away, angry. "What about Buffy?" he asked.
"Buffy would never be able to love me again," Angel shook his head. Willow stood up next to him.
"Please, Angel, we need to go."
The images began slowing again – They were on a boat, sailing out into the ocean. Angel's barely younger self was strapped into a metal coffin, calling out desperately.
"Listen to me. I love you! Never forget that."
Spike saw a young man of nearly eighteen years and a woman in her late twenties hoisting a metal and glass lid.
"Connor! Connor, never forget that I'm your father and that I love you."
Angel was desperate – his eyes were pleading as the lid was lowered.
"Connor? Con – "
The voice stopped as the lid closed. Connor and the woman began sealing the lid – welding it into place. They walk to one end of the metal casket and shove it hard into the water.
"This is horrible," Willow whispered beside Spike. Angel swallowed next to him, watching his won son bury him the ocean.
"My son," he whispers. The image becomes hazy, and the revolution begins anew. "I spent three months down in that casket."
"Why relive it, then?" Spike asked him. Angel turned to face him.
"Because I still don't have a reason not to."
"It was a bloody awful experience!" Spike raged. He glared as Angel regarded him blankly. "You were miserable! And you obviously never quite got over it! Not many people could! So why go through it all again?"
"Because I'm a monster."
"You're a sadist, that's what you are mate."
"I'm not a thing worth saving."
"You are, Angel," Willow told him. "We wouldn't be here if we didn't think you were worth saving."
Angel smiled miserably. "You're too nice to me, Willow." She frowned. "You should have staked me long ago."
"Stop it, ya wank," Spike said angrily, grabbing Angel's arm. "We need to go! Willow and I dunno how much longer we can stay here."
"Then go," Angel said, pulling his arm free. "I need to stay."
Spike pressed as close to Angel's side as he could. "Please, Angel," he begged quietly. "I need someone to talk to in the real world. And I can talk to you. Please?"
Angel turned to him. "Finally, a reason," he whispered back. Brown eyes met blue, and Spike thought, for a flicker of a moment, that Angel could see how he felt – could see he was in love with him. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped short as Willow grabbed his left hand – his right was intertwined with Angel's.