CIRCLES
CHAPTER FIVE : REPAIR
AN: If you haven't seen "DAMAGE" from Angel Season 5 you really won't get this chapter. Also, seeing "THE GIRL IN QUESTION" would help greatly too.
Comfort's gone, the pain is too,
I'm numb – there is nothing left to feel.
The shadows blind and swallow me,
I can't sort out the lies from what is real.
Emotions flare, I'm crowded – drowning,
Memories and voices race throughout my mind.
I can't hold on – I'm slipping, falling,
Into a madness that has no cure that I can find.
I know the world around me, but I can't control it,
You're trying too hard to break me free.
You can't understand so why bother?
Even blind, I will always see.
You try to share the burden but you can never,
Don't waste your precious time, don't shed a tear.
My world is gone, my life is broken..
I'm much too damaged to repair.
Dana.
The totally insane slayer whose parents had been murdered and who had been kidnapped and tortured by an equally raving psycho when she was only ten years old (this had, predictably, left her a little short of "all there" – so calling her totally insane was probably an understatement).
She was the basket case of unbelievable proportions that had murdered innocent people and had cut Spike's hands off and tried to kill him, about three months prior to this moment.
And she was sitting on his bed, watching him. She hadn't moved since he'd noticed she was there, and neither had he.
A mass of dirty black hair fell over and around a beautiful, if haunted, face. She watched him through her big brown eyes, so deep and yet so utterly filled with madness.
Spike was at a complete loss at what to do. So far they had just stayed still – watching each other. Spike was convinced she was here to kill him, and seeing as last time they had met she had very nearly succeeded, he didn't really feel like staying and letting her fight him. Something in his mind was trying to explain to him how she could be here, but the rest of him was too full of confusion and anxiety for him to be capable of listening to it. Putting all of those feelings behind him, realising that standing still like this wouldn't help, and remembering that he had on occasion come out best in spouts with slayers, he stepped forward.
She flinched.
"Um," he said apprehensively.
He couldn't think of anything else to say. He had come back to his apartment for a reason, but with the appearance of a dangerous lunatic, he had completley forgotten what it was.
She continuned to stare at him. "William," she said quietly.
"Uh.." he replied, staring at her. Last time she had remembered who he was she had grown particularly violent and then stabbed him in the neck with a syringe.
"Slayers," she said suddenly, looking up at the ceiling and then around the room wildly as though expecting them to pop out of the woodwork.
He stared at her. "Oh.. er.. yes..?"
"Slayers after me," she continued madly, "took me.. took me away. Tried.. to fix me."
She blinked, turning her eyes back on him, "I'm better now," she said.
"Oh.. well.. that's really.. um.." Spike tried to say "good", but he didn't quite make it. Dana didn't seem to notice.
"Better but.. still broken! I'm.. now.. it's all.. I can see everything!" she said, her eyes wide and unbelieving. She looked down at her hands.
"I'm lost," she said, tracing one palm with a finger. "They're.. always there. Blue.. broken.. pieces of a.. a.." she stopped and took in some short breaths, looking around again. "Everywhere.."
"Er.. right," Spike said, slowly moving forward again.
She stood up suddenly, sending him a few paces back in surprise. She tilted her head to the side and watched him suspiciously. "Always, and yet never," she said. "Time that tells a block is always coloured.."
"Mm.. well.." Spike replied nervously, "I see you've gotten a bigger vocabulary, that's.. that's good.."
"Training. Training and potions and.. stickers.. to help.." her eyes poured into him and she looked overwhelmed with grief and sadness. Spike felt a surge of pity for her. Her lip trembled as she spoke, "and now.. I can see."
"See? You.. you can see?" This was confusing. Spike began to worry how long they could keep up this coversation (if you could call it that) before she tried to kill him. Again.
"I.. I remember.. the.. death and blood and.. everything. I.. can see them.." she said, now clutching her sides, but continuing to stare deep into Spike's eyes. It was very unnerving.
"I killed them.. hurt them.. killed.. lots of.." her expression was full of pain, and as she looked at Spike he felt as though she was almost pleading for something. "Gave me just enough to.. make me weaker."
Suddenly she began to yell. "I'm the only one! But there are many! I didn't.. don't understand. I can't see because it hurts so much, but I can see what I left behind! Past.. past.. past midnight.. crazy.."
Not wrong about that last part, Spike thought, watching her. Why had she come to him? To talk? To finish him off? Spike considered what he might try and do. He had to sedate or knock her out somehow. Short of tranquilizers he couldn't think of how to manage it.. and he didn't have tranquilizers.
"I.. I.. I'm not strong. In.. my mind. Brains all jumbled.. They.. I.." she shook her head, then looked back at him, and for a strange moment she appeared different than she had before, as though a small part of her sanity had somehow leaked through.
"Help me."
Illyria stood next to the mirror, holding a book in her hands. Gunn and Connor moved around Wesley's appartment, sorting things out.
Illyria had agreed to come with them, not even fully understanding her reasons for doing so. She had found his books.. books on her. Detailing her transformation and her history, and everything about her. She had found a diary, in which he had written about her, the things he had taught her and the progress he had made in caring for her. Developments and notes..
She noticed that not once did Wesley ever write Fred's name, or make any mention of her at all. This confused Illyria, but again she didn't understand why. It caused her considerable emotional pain though. An irritatingly large amount.
The last entry was the day before Fred's parents had come to Wolfram and Hart. He had written of her losing her powers, and how she had reacted to that.
It felt strange holding something that Wesley had once written in. Something of his. Would he have wanted her to keep it? Would it have embarrassed him? Did he ever really care for her?
It was good that you came.
He had said to her, before he had died in her arms. To her – not to Fred. Maybe he had cared for her.. if only a little. Did it matter now anyway? He was gone, and she was still here.
She looked around at all the books that lined the shelves and trunks. This would help Angel's cause, help them find whatever they were looking for. There were lots of things to find here.
Illyria was only looking for one.
"Help.. what?" Spike said, gaping at Dana.
"Help me. I.. its.. your.." she looked at him, "I.. I'm sorry.."
"You.. you're sorry?" he repeated in a bewildered, lost and slightly faint tone of voice.
She walked slowly towards him, and he retreated a little again. She stopped, "Don't be afraid. It doesn't.. it doesn't.. hurt.."
"If you hold still?" Spike said, "Yeah I.. I remember that."
Spike had backed into the kitchen bench. Dana approached him again, closing the gap between them. Spike felt trapped and a little panicked, but she didn't seem like she was going to attack him. At least not yet. She reached out and took his hands.
"Hands.. hands.. hands back? Touch?" she held them. Spike stood rigidly as she touched his fingers and his wrists, at a complete loss at what to do. He wasn't usually like this, but her presence made him extremely nervous. Especially at this proximity. He suddenly realised he was afraid of her. Not that he didn't have reason to be.. it just wasn't a very pleasant feeling.
She squeezed his fingers with hers, and her expression grew angry and she looked up at him, "Touch me? Touch again? You're.. going to hurt me again?"
"No. No!" Spike said quickly, "I.. I just.. I have these friends, well, more people I know – or knew as is the case now, and they fixed me – like your slayer friends.. er.. fixed.. you. I.. I won't hurt you," he said, knowing that if she threatened him it wouldn't be true.
Dana backed away from him. "Head.. and heart.." she said. "Another.. another shot of thorazine and I.. she might calm down. Try to help me. Try.. try..
"I'm sorry I broke your.. took your hands.. I'm sorry I.." she staggered back and sat on the floor, her black jacket falling open to reveal four or five wooden stakes hidden within the folds. Spike's eyes widened and he moved along the bench away from her. She looked up at him, her lips parting a little. She reached into her jacket and took out a stake.
Spike froze.
Holding the stake in her hands, she stood up. "Vampire," she said accusingly.
Spike stared at her, trying to decide what to do. Her eyes were so penetrating, and whenever she stared at him, any ideas or plans he was thinking of seemed to evaporate.
"Vampire.. head.. and heart.. you could do that.." she said, moving over to him, weilding the stake. "Could you do that? Vampire?"
"I.." Spike said slowly. "I'm a vampire. Yes."
She stopped and stared at him, looking sad and hopeless for a moment and then looking angry again.
"But I'm a good vampire," he said quickly.
She screwed her face up, "Lies, lies and not truths. Tell them about me and I'll find you. Shh.." she sneered angrily at him, shaking her head, "Murderer. You killed them.. I remember.." she said.
"I.. I did," Spike said, backing away further as she continued to advance on him, "but.. I'm.. better now. I'm.. I'm.. fixed! I.. have a soul.."
"Soul?" she repeated, still advancing on him.
"Yes, a soul. You've got one too! It's.. I don't.. I don't kill people anymore. I help people.. now.. I try to.." he started to trail off when he realised this wasn't working.
She lunged at him and he side stepped the thrust, throwing himself into the middle of the room. Dana turned around and faced him. "Evil," she said as she took after him again. "Stake the heart. Dust can't hurt me. Can't hurt anyone."
She ran at him, but he moved forward as she did and grabbed her hand with the stake in it, gripping her wrist until she dropped it. She gasped, staring at him accusingly for a moment. Then she punched him in the face with her other arm.
He let go of her wrist, and staggered back as she came at him again, kicking him in the stomach. He fell onto the ground and rolled away from her. He then pulled himself to his feet and held up his hands in peace as they began to circle each other slowly.
"I.. I don't want to hurt you, Dana," he said. "I'm not a bad guy. I.. I'll try and help you. Like you asked me to remember? Please.. just.." he tried to talk but he realised it wouldn't work. Growing desperate he tried to think of something else to say.
"I'm weak," she said suddenly.
He stared at her.
"I.. can see.. faces.. people I.. I killed!" she cried.
Spike watched her for a moment, then slowly he nodded and said, "I can too."
Her expression was painful, "I.. I'm sorry.. I want.. I.." she looked at him, then she squinted, a tear cascading down her right cheek. "Spike?"
He stopped walking. "You.. you know my name?" he asked. She had memories of the two slayers he had killed, but seemed to know him as William the Bloody, rather than as his nickname. Then he remembered she had memories of all the slayers of the past. All those that had died. He had a sudden theory.
"You.. you have Buffy's memories of me?" he asked.
"Buffy.. Buffy is in Rome. Slayer. Leader of.. other slayers," she said softly. How the hell could she know that? Then Spike remembered she'd been treated by the slayers, and she had probably overheard it.
"Losing.. all.. my pieces.." she said, putting a hand to her forehead, "I want.. to.. stop seeing them.. It's so painful. I.. I.."
She gasped and then her eyes shot back at Spike, again angry and violent, "You killed me!" she yelled. "You killed me!"
"No, no I.." he started but she had thrown herself at him, knocking him over and then punching him hard in the face repeatedly.
Spike struggled with her for a moment and then rolled her over so that he was ontop of her, with the upper hand. He held both of her arms down onto the floor.
"Dana," he said, as she cursed at him in Romanian, "Dana I don't want to hurt you, but I'm going to have to if you keep attacking me."
"Little minx.." she said and snapped her teeth at him.
He managed to grin a little, remembering it was something he had called her. "Look," he said quickly, knowing he couldn't hold her there long. "I'm not the person you think I am. I'm not William the Bloody. I was.. but I've changed now. I have a soul, it makes me more human. Makes me understand and accept what I did and lets me choose not to do it again. I help people now. That's why you came to find me isn't it? Because there's a part of you that knows that. I'm paying for all those lives I took, all the people I killed. Like.. the slayers you remember.."
She stared up at him, her chin trembling. "People.. I killed.. I killed people.." she said. "I.. I'm becoming.. him.." she said, and revulsion and horror covered her face.
Spike felt another overwhelming swell of pity, "You don't have to be. You can.. try and.."
She didn't seem to hear him, and closed her eyes, shaking her head and struggling softly beneath him. Then she opened her eyes, seeing him ontop of her, she yelled "NO!" and headbutted him. He lost his grip on her and she pushed him off her. He fell back and then scrambled up, but suddenly felt pain in his face. He only vaguely registered that she had punched him again, most of him was just signalling that his cheek hurt. He tried to look back at her, but she punched him again.. and again and again. Finally she let up and he managed to look up at her. She was holding him down, and she had another stake in her hand, aiming it above his heart.
Spike had been in this situation a few times before, but it didn't get any easier. He didn't feel his whole life flash before him – it was a long life, and there wasn't really enough time. He just felt sort of numb, and confused. A few hours ago he had been completley bound up in thoughts of Buffy, and now he was about to be staked.
He had died before. Twice. That didn't really make him feel any better, or make this any simpler or easier. If she killed him now there would be no more coming back.
As he stared up at Dana's mad face, her decision holding his life in the balance.. he realised he didn't want to die. Not now anyway. Not like this. There were so many things..
He didn't want to go to hell. He knew that's where he was headed, if she decided to end him. He would burn.
It was painful, thinking about it now. He had never realised how good life was. Not that it was really very good, or that he was really alive in the strictest sense. But life wasn't bad. Even if you were dead. Sure, un-life had its downs; the girl that he was in love with would never feel the same way about him; he was hanging around a guy that he hated most of the time; the only other girl he'd felt anything for since saving the world had died being taken over by an ancient blue demon; and he had to live with the burden that he had once been unbelievably evil. Not that he had worried a lot about that last part, at least not until Dana had turned up the first time and reminded him of who.. and what he really was. What he used to be. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience, but well, it had done the trick. Made him a better person.
So his life wasn't all roses and chocolates, but it was still his life.
And, when it all boiled down to it, this life was a whole lot better than hell.
He suddenly realised he wasn't dust yet. He looked up at Dana, who was staring at him, wide eyed and hesitant. The stake was still hovering in the air between them, shaking in her hand.
"Spike," she said, her lip trembling and her eyes boring into him.
She put her left hand down onto his chest. "Soul.."
She dropped the stake and let go of him. He sat up slowly. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, as though wishing she was in a dark corner somewhere, unburdened by sorrow, terror or madness. Just alone and free of the nightmare.
"It's.. sorry. I.." she started and then stopped, tears falling down her cheeks and mingling with her messy hair. "Only trying to help you.. don't struggle.. it'll all be over soon.."
Spike moved away from her a little as she clutched her knees and rocked back and forth.
"They tried to fix me but I'm still broken.. still painful.. all my pieces lost and broken. Can't put them back together again.. all the kings horses.. but I just want to go home. There is no home.. it's so hard to see.." she whispered madly. "Don't want to go back. Don't want to be locked in again. Caged.. caged and I can't get out.. locked in.. always locked in.. there's no escape.. no escaping..
"See them all the time, always watching me, never letting me sleep. Never letting me hide in my cage. Cages.. cages are all I am.. I want to go home.." she sobbed. "Just let me go home! Mommy and daddy will find me then.. no more hiding.. no more running away.. just home.."
Between the vague references and strange quotes from her memory, Spike managed to see what she was really on about. She'd been kidnapped and tortured in a dark basement, then she'd finally escaped only to be institutionalized in a mental ward for fifteen years. Then she'd freed herself from there, only to be taken away again and locked up by Andrew and his gang of slayers. She wanted to be free, and he could understand that. Only she was a danger to herself and others when she was free.
"Don't want to go back.. going to send me back.. if they find me.. take me again.. blue and yellow and brown.. make me weak.. can't fight back.. all the walls.. the sky's not there! Where's the sky?"
Spike made up his mind. Although he knew he would regret it later. Perks of being a hero, he supposed.
"It's OK luv," he said, and she turned her eyes to look at him again, "they're not going to send you back. I won't let them. I'm gunna help you.."
She looked at him unbelieivingly, and he wasn't sure she had understood what he had said.
"Home?" she asked.
Spike looked around, "What, here?"
"No more running away?" she asked him softly, her eyes tearing into his soul.
"No, you're safe here," he replied.
"Safe. Safe. But they're watching me all the time! Can't be free! All the faces! Not safe!" she said wildly.
Spike ran a hand over his hair, this was going to be hard. None of this still made any sense, and he was at an utter loss as to what to do now. "Why are you here, Dana?" he asked her.
She looked at him in confusion, breathing heavily. "You know.." she said cryptically.
For some reason this almost made sense to Spike. She reminded him of all the horrible things he'd done when he was evil, and made him remember that he was still paying for it. Not that he would ever tell Angel that.
Now she also had that pain. Now that she had some vestiges of her sanity back, she could remember what she'd done, all the people she'd murdered when she'd escaped from the psychiatric ward. And it haunted her.
Maybe she knew he shared the same burden. Had seen it in him, seen his pain, all those months ago. How she could sense something that deep when she was buried in all those layers of insanity, Spike didn't know. Maybe it was a slayer thing.
Angel shared this burden more, Spike thought wryly. But Angel wasn't here. She had come to Spike for help. To him.
"I do know," he said quietly, "and I'll help you.
You just gotta promise to stop trying to kill me."
"Alright, I think we've got everything that's going to be helpful. I.. I put some of his personal belongings into that box. Things I think he might have wanted us to keep," Gunn said quietly, his arms full of books, looking at Connor and gesturing to a large box that was on the floor next to the bed.
"So, I.. think we're done.. here," Gunn said, looking over at Illyria, who was still standing by the mirror. She was clutching what appeared to be a diary in her left hand and was staring at an open book on the bench in front of her.
Connor picked up the box on the floor, juggling another crate full of books under his arm. Gunn walked over to Illyria, looking down at the book she was reading. There was a picture of her, the real Illyria, in demon form on the right page. Underneath was a passage of scipt that Illyria was tracing with her finger.
"The great monarch will rise again, born from a host of great valour and beauty, who will sacrifice their existence as their soul is consumed for the birth of the glory that used to be. The world will tremble and all will bow down before the power of the God King of the Primordium. Illyria will rule once more."
Gunn read the passage then looked at Illryia, who was staring wide eyed at the book, her expression impervious. "We're going now. You coming?" he asked her after a moment. He didn't want to mention the book. Made him think of Fred, which was painful.
She blinked and looked at him. "I am," she said after staring piercingly at him for a couple of seconds. She turned on her heel and walked proudly over to the door and out of it, leaving the book open on the bench.
Gunn and Connor watched her go, slightly stunned by her abruptness.
"That was sudden," Connor said, hoisting his boxes up under his arms to stop them from slipping. The two of them followed her, Connor looked questioningly at Gunn. "She's very strange isn't she?"
Gunn nodded, his eyes narrowed, as they locked the apartment door and walked out into the corridor.
"And getting stranger.."
"These will help a lot. They're good," Angel said, looking up at Gunn, who had just brought in the collection of books they'd salvaged from Wesley's. "Well done."
Cordelia was quietly going through the box personal belongings whilst sitting behind the counter in the lobby. The others stood in the middle of the hall, looking at a few of the books and talking.
"I better go back now," Connor said. "It's getting kind of late and I promised my folks I'd stop coming home at crazy hours of the morning. Plus I still haven't finished my resume." He smiled at Angel.
Angel smiled back, surprised to find how easy it was, "Good luck with that."
"Thanks," Connor said. "Call me if anything big comes up."
Angel nodded. He still found it very strange that Connor was concerned with what they were doing. He'd told Angel he didn't really want to have much to do with the demon world - Angel's world. He had a life now, a real life, and a real family. Why did he keep coming back here?
Connor shook his hand.
"See ya," the boy said, shook Gunn's hand too, smiled, and then headed out the entrance.
"Resume?" Cordelia asked Angel when Connor had departed, a slight smile playing on her lips.
"Yeah," said Angel, grinning a little in a proud kind of way, "He's going to be a doctor."
Cordy made a happy all-knowing noise and turned back to what she was doing; Angel could be a real dork sometimes.
"So what happened with Illyria?" Angel asked Gunn after a little while.
Gunn shrugged, "I dunno. She was acting really odd.. and I mean more than usual. She was reading a lot of the books that Wes had lying around. The ones about her, all that glory of her kingdom stuff."
"Probably yearning for the good old days," Angel said.
Gunn made a face, "I didn't think so, but it's so hard to tell.."
Cordelia slipped off her chair and walked over to them. "Think we'll be able to get to the bottom of this Camarilla stuff now we've got some books?"
"If we've got the right books; hopefully. I don't see how we're going to stop whatever's happening from happening if we don't know what it is, or where to find it," Angel said, putting his hands on his hips. "Hopefully Spike'll find something else out too, maybe pick up a location.."
"Yeah, or maybe he's out drinking again," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes, "you know I still don't understand the whole story behind you and him sticking together."
"That makes two of us," Angel sighed.
"Not that I mind him being here, we need all the help we can get," Cordelia commented. Then she sighed, "God you'd think that saving the world'd get us a little breathing space don't you? I mean we've done it enough times by now. Hey, pretty soon we might have done it more times than-"
"Buffy," Angel said suddenly.
Cordelia frowned, "Well I was going to go with Superman, but hey-"
"No.. Buffy," Angel said, pointing.
Cordelia turned around, and sure enough, standing in their battle scarred doorway was the Vampire Slayer herself.
Buffy's hair was tucked up in a pony tail and she wore a long black leather jacket over a pink t-shirt and cream pants. She was looking around at the crumbling wall.
"Nice place you guys have here," she said, moving forward. She put her thumb back over her shoulder and gestured to the doorway, "What happened there?"
Angel was still staring at her as though he wasn't sure she was really there. After a moment he snapped himself out of it, "Uh.. Dragon."
She raised her eyebrows. "Long story," he explained.
"I don't doubt that," she said, then turned to Cordelia.
"Cordelia," she said, staring at her in surprise.
Cordelia sighed, "Yes I know, shocking as it is, you're not the only one who gets to return from death."
"No, I was going to say you had really nice hair," Buffy said.
"Oh," Cordy said. Then she smiled, "Thanks."
"Sorry, miraculous comings-back-to-life stopped shocking me a while back now," she said, then turned to Gunn, "Hi. I'm Buffy."
Gunn smiled, "I think I guessed that myself. I'm Gunn. Charles Gunn."
He held out his hand and she shook it, "Nice to meet you Mr. Charles Gunn," Buffy said, also smiling.
"Everyone just called me Gunn."
"Gunn it is," Buffy replied.
"What.. what are you doing here?" Angel asked her.
"Well I was in the neighbourhood.. and we agreed a long time ago that skulking around in each other's back yards without announcing one's presence was rude so – here I am," she held out her hands as though proving that she was really standing there. "How've you been?"
Cordelia answered the question. "Well everything's been pretty routine.. apocalypse last week.. dragon through the door.. hordes of demons.. the usual. Yeah, we're pretty good," she said fairly. "You?"
Buffy shrugged, "Oh same sort of thing. No dragons though. Slayers, actually."
"Oh?" Cordelia enquired.
"Yeah, that's why I'm in town. Got the whole team looking for our escaped slayer."
"Escaped slayer? You had a locked up slayer?" Cordelia asked.
"A crazy slayer. She's mad," Buffy explained. "We were trying to treat her, but she managed to escape and now she's on the loose. She's made it all the way back here from Mexico City, but we've almost caught her."
"Dana." Angel said, looking at Buffy.
"You remember?" Buffy asked.
"How could I forget? As I recall you stole her from me. Or, well Andrew did it for you," Angel replied crossing his arms, "said you didn't trust me."
Buffy looked a little uncomfortable, but defended her reasons, "Yes well, when you started working for the planet's most evil corporation, next to Matel of course, I decided that your judgement might've become a tad impaired. Impaired like blinded."
"My judgement?" Angel came back, looking insulted, "Remind me – out of the two of us, which one is dating The Immortal?"
Buffy raised her hands in frustration, "It always comes back to whoever I'm dating doesn't it?"
"Well when it's The Immortal, yes!" Angel said.
Buffy crossed her arms. "How did you find out about that anyway? Have one of your lawyers look it up for you? Or maybe it was that guy that I beat up for following me around, not three weeks back?"
Angel shifted uncomfortably.
"Besides," Buffy continued, "You don't know The Immortal anymore! He's not the same person he was in the 19th century!"
"The hell he isn't! Did you know he was head of the Camarilla?" Angel asked loudly.
Buffy stared at him for a moment, then shrugged.
"Of course."
Angel stared at her, his mouth falling open in shock. "You.. you knew? You knew and you're still going out with him?"
"Well.. yes..?" Buffy asked, clearly not understanding why this would be an issue.
"But.. Buffy.. they hate slayers!" Angel said almost desperatley.
"Well.. hate is such a strong word! I'd go more with.. 'are frightened of' slayers.. and frankly who isn't? We're a pretty intimidating bunch! And.. and The Camarilla are the only vampire sect that aren't totally evil!" she defended them.
"You want to bet on that?" Angel said flatly.
Buffy gave him a dead pan look, "I think we've got off topic here. Weren't we talking about the fact that you can't stand it whenever I'm with anybody that isn't you?"
They looked at each other. Buffy's expression turned a little guilty, "Oh.. I.. that was harsh.. I didn't.. didn't mean it like that.."
He nodded, looking down at the floor and adopting his usual brooding stance. Then he looked back up at her, "Buffy you shouldn't trust him. He's up to something, him and The Camarilla. You're not safe."
Buffy rolled her eyes, "When am I ever? And what makes you think they're 'up to something'? Got any proof to back up that ground breaking accusation?"
"My vision," Cordelia interjected, looking at Buffy as though she was a particularly large slimy creature that Cordy had every mind to step on. Cordy couldn't stand this whole Angel-Buffy forbidden romance thing. Who could? It was so annoying and.. frustrating.. and their bickering and those looks they kept giving each other.. it all just made her want to hit things! Buffy-shaped-things!
Cordelia's blood was boiling with something that felt suspiciously like jealousy.
"Vision?" Buffy repeated.
"From the Powers That Be – maybe you've heard of them? Big shiny – other plane of existence? They give me visions, and the one I just got showed your toy boy and a whole bunch of other vampires, sitting around plotting something," Cordy told her as sweetly as she could manage.
Buffy blinked, "That doesn't mean it was evil. Or about slayers."
Cordelia snorted, "Yes because they-all-mighty just decided to let me in on the secrets of their latest board meeting! I'm sure they were discussing the new design of their logo and if they should use the red pen or the black pen when signing notices."
Buffy gave Cordy a dark look, and Angel shook his head. "Come in here and I'll show you what we've found out so far," he said, leading her into his office.
Buffy sighed and followed him in.
Spike came running in through the front entrance, and jogged down the steps. He looked around but couldn't see anyone in the immediate vacinity.
He stood at the base of the steps for a few minutes, thinking. He'd left Dana back in his apartment after giving her some food and promising her repeatedly he'd come back. All her talk of cages and being shut in had forced him to not lock the door on her.. and he was seriously doubting she'd be there when he got back. He was in a very strange position now, knowing that he had to help her in some way.. but not having a clue how to do it.
If the slayers, with all their resources, books and magic couldn't help her.. what could he possibly hope to achieve?
He certainly couldn't do it by himself. He called out.
"Angel?" he yelled. "Charley?"
There were voices from the office, and Spike made his way quickly over there, just as Angel came out.
"There you are. Look, something's happened and-"
Spike cut himself off mid sentence as Buffy emerged from the room behind him. He gaped at her. She gaped at him.
"Buffy," he said, every intelligent thought he'd been having seeping out of his mind faster than Cordelia at the check out of a shoe store with a full credit card.
Angel pursed his lips and crossed his arms, just as Buffy approached Spike.
"Buffy what are you-" Spike began, but was interrupted as she slapped him very hard in the face.
He staggered back.
"Wow Buffy, I didn't even know you slapped people. I thought you were all up for punching," Cordelia said from behind her. Gunn whispered, "Don't give her ideas."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Buffy demanded of Spike angrily, ignoring Cordy's snipe.
Spike put his hand up to his face. This wasn't the first time he'd been hit there today, and he was starting to feel a bit tender. He glared at her in shock, "What the hell's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? What'd I do to deserve that?"
Buffy looked furious. It was very intimidating. "What did you do! I'll tell you what you did!" she reached into her jacket and pulled out her phone. "Better yet I'll show you!" she said angrily, pressed a few buttons and then held the phone out.
A voice came out of the phone, static and distorted, but undoubtedly it was Spike's voice.
"Buffy.. it's.. it's me. Erm.. Spike. Yeah! I know what you're thinkin'! I'm dead! Well.. I am dead.. but that's not what I meant.. I'm not dead dead anymore! I came back! Just after I went up in the.. in the.. the.. fire. Issn' that weird? I mean.. I dunneven know why I'm back. But here I am! Or.. well.. there I am.."
Spike's voice was slurred and it was apparent to everyone that he had been drunk at the time of the phone call. Angel was smiling slightly, Spike was wincing with embarrassment and Buffy was still looking murderous.
"..anyway! I'm calling to say that tonight I'm probably going to die. Yep. Again. Savin' the world again too! I mean.. I'm trying to.. save the world.. not.. actually it's more like suicide for honour and stuff.. but well.. uh.. mm.. I though' I shoo' let you know.. because.. well you know why.. don't you? Um.. yeah.."
There was a clicking noise to signify that was the end of the message. There was a short silence. Gunn and Cordelia were standing behind Angel and Buffy, looking at each other and trying not to laugh.
"Well?" Buffy said. "Have you got some sort of explanation?"
Spike winced, "I'm sorry?"
Buffy made an exasperated noise, which was probably less fearsome than the outraged and incensed expression she had fixed on him. "It's been months Spike! Almost a year! A year of me thinking you were dead and then suddenly I get this message on my phone from you! A drunk, pathetic awful message that didn't explain anything and just left me feeling worse than before you'd called! Then I find out that Andrew of all people already knew you were back, and that you'd been back for ages and still hadn't told me! Why the hell didn't you call me sooner? Let me know? I cried about you for ages and here you are! Alive and.. fine!"
Spike looked away, he certainly hadn't imagined this happening at their reunion. His face was burning, and not just from where she had hit him. When he finally spoke he found it both difficult and painful, and sincerely wished that there wasn't a crowd of people standing around watching him.
"Well.. I didn't.. look I had my reasons! It's.. complicated and.. hard to explain.. I couldn't just prance back in and say I was alive! It doesn't work that way! I don't work that way! I just.. I couldn't tell you earlier, and I'm sorry. I really am."
Buffy shook her head, now looking hurt. "You didn't care about me enough to let me know?"
"Oh hey you know that's not true," he said. "Besides you were doing great without me. The slayers.. Rome.. The Immortal.."
Buffy groaned, "Why does everybody have to bring him up?"
"Well, because it's The Immortal!" Spike retorted.
Angel rolled his eyes skyward, "I already tried it. Didn't work."
Spike looked at him, a hopeless expression beginning on his face, "What.. she's totally.."
Angel sighed, "Yep. She's gone."
Spike looked at Buffy, then back at Angel. He slumped his shoulders, "Not again.."
"I know," Angel comiserated.
Spike sounded like a ten year old boy robbed of his favourite lolly, "Why does it always have to end like this?"
"It's our luck. We're doomed," Angel replied. "I saw it on her face the moment I mentioned his name."
Spike shook his head, "Too late.. again. I still say we end him, that'd fix all our problems in one blow wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, 'cause trying to kill him has worked so well for us in the past. You do remember blood vengence, don't you?"
"How could I forget? The girls didn't talk to us for a month afterwards.. all that crap about how we shouldn't have tried to take him down. How we were immature. Immature!" Spike said in outrage, "Like we weren't manly enough for them.. not immortal enough."
Buffy was looking back and forth between Angel and Spike with an expression bordering on horror.
"Did either of you notice that I'm standing right here?" she asked flatly, then she squinted at them in suspicion. "And.. more importantly.. what the hell is going on?"
Angel looked back at her, "What?"
"You're talking! You're friends! You're.. you're together! The two of you!" she said stubbornly.
"We're not friends!" Spike said quickly.
"We're not together!" Angel said at the same time.
Buffy stared at them. "This is just too weird," she said quietly. "You hated each other."
"We still do!" Angel defended their relationship.
"It's a complicated.. thing. Long story," Spike explained.
"I thought you knew," Angel said to Buffy. He looked at Spike, "While you were leaving your drunk babbling message I guess you must have skimmed over the part where you were working for me."
Spike held up a finger, "I'm not working for you. I'm working with you. There's a big difference!" Spike turned back to Buffy. "Like I said. Long story."
"He won't leave me alone!" Angel said suddenly.
Spike rounded on him, looking outraged. "Leave you alone? You keep needing my help!"
"Need your help? I don't need your help!"
"Oh really? What about that slug thing that was mixing with your brain? You'd be a vegetable now if it weren't for me!" Spike pointed out.
"Only because Lindsey told you what to do! He was feeding you crap trying to build you up like a big hero, that you're not!" Angel came back with.
"Oh really? I seem to recall you saying I was a hero! On more than one occasion!" he turned to Cordelia. "Remember when he called me a hero?"
Cordelia stared at him, "Yes, I do remember. That was right after you bit me."
"You're never going to let that go are you?" Spike said testily.
"Not ever. No," she smiled sweetly.
Spike turned back to Angel, "See!" he pointed at himself, "Hero."
"I saved your life too," Angel replied angrily. "Remember Dana? Remember her almost chopping your head off? And me coming to your rescue?"
Spike went deadly silent, everything that had happened to him this evening still too fresh to talk about.
"Dana?" Buffy asked. "As in the slayer I'm chasing right now?"
"The.. the what?" Spike asked, looking at her in shock. She was chasing Dana?
"Yes, she escaped. We're tracking her down. You know her too?" Buffy asked.
"She chopped his hands off and almost killed him," Angel said. "I'd say he remembers her."
Buffy looked down at Spike's hands. "She chopped your hands off?"
"Well.. I'm better now," Spike said somewhat awkwardly. "You're.. tracking Dana?"
"Yes, she's in the city. Don't worry though, we'll catch her," Buffy replied.
"How'd she escape in the first place?" Angel asked.
Buffy sighed, "She was responding really well to her treatment, so we had her in a lower security area. She took advantage of the freedom.. managed to escape."
"Oh," Spike said, his brain working furiously. "So.. er.. what will you do with her when you find her?"
"Take her back to Mexico. See what we can do to continue helping her."
"And.. the freedom she had before?" Spike said slowly.
"We won't be able to do that again for quite a while," Buffy said sadly, "It's unfortunate. According to the people working with her she looked like she was really starting to improve. I don't know everything, but she's our responsibility and we have to try and help her."
Spike nodded numbly. What was he going to do? Should he tell the others that he'd found Dana and she was back in his apartment? That would surely result in the slayers taking her away again. He remembered what she had said to him, "Don't want to go back. Don't want to be locked in again. Caged.. caged and I can't get out.. locked in.. always locked in.."
He would feel horribly guilty if he sent her back to them after promising he would protect and help her. But maybe it was what was best for her.. Buffy had said she had been improving with the care of the slayers.. what kind of help could he possibly hope to give her?
"Spike?" Buffy asked, worried by his long silence.
"What?" Spike asked looking up. "Oh, umm.. Look I've got to go, I'll.. be back later."
He turned and walked out through the caved in doorway again, only vaguely aware that everyone in the lobby was watching him go.
Buffy looked at Angel.
"That was strange," she said, blinking.
"Yeah, Dana has that affect on him," Angel replied. "She rattled him up quite a bit last time too."
Buffy frowned, "You don't think she'll want to come after him again do you?"
Angel shrugged, "He can take care of himself."
Buffy ignored his comment, "Maybe I should go with him.."
She continued to stare out the doorway after Spike. Angel looked miffed, and turned away, his eyes falling on the staircase, where Illyria was standing looking down at them.
"Illyria," he exclaimed, surprised to see her out of room. "Is.. er.. are you alright?"
She started down the steps towards them, keeping Angel locked in her gaze. Once she reached the group however, her eyes travelled to Gunn, then to Cordy, then finally to Buffy.
"I do not know you," she said, peering at the slayer. She turned to Angel. "Who is this?" she demanded.
Buffy looked a little taken back, she turned to Angel as well. "Mutual question," she said.
"Oh.. um," he said, gesturing at Buffy, "Illyria this is Buffy, the vampire slayer. Buffy this is-"
"I am Illyria," the blue haired woman interrupted proudly, "God-King of the Primordium. I am superior to all mortals and those who dare oppose me face desolation and destruction in the most violent and merciless manner possible. I install fear into the hearts of the weak and brave alike, and even reduced to the human form I have become," she turned to glare at Angel, "I can still turn the most foulest enemy to a groveling withered husk."
Buffy blinked. "Nifty," she said after a pause.
"You.. seem to be better," Angel commented, noting that all the days of seclusion had resulted in a spectacular return of the old Illyria. Gunn was not convinced however, and watched Illyria suspiciously. Her eyes betrayed her inner emotions – and how most of this was just put on for show. She had another agenda.
Illyria looked away from Buffy and back to Angel. Then she looked around, as though trying to remember why she was there.
"Illyria?" Gunn questioned her, the concern in his voice bringing her back to the here and now.
She curved her head up in a graceful arc and dilated her nostrils. She looks around at them and said matter-of-factly, "There is fear.. dissention in this place. I can feel it."
Angel raised his eyebrows, "Can you be any more specific?"
"Specifics are for the lowly, and for now there is no need of them," she said, her blue eyes flickering in the light.
"Er.." Buffy said, looking uneasily at Angel.
"Something is wrong," Illyria said quietly, as if almost to herself.
"What is it?" Angel asked, looking at her with curiosity. She was behaving strangely, but after Wesley's death, none of Illyria's moods could be taken for granted. She was far too upredictable.
She did not reply further, she only glared imperiously at him, before leaving them, heading back up towards her room again. On the way up the stairs she stopped briefly, taking hold of the railing to support herself. A great weight swept over her, and for a moment she felt very cold and alone. A tear slipped from her eye down her cheek as she clutched the rail next to her with intense force, as though her very existence depended on that strength to hold on. It only lasted a moment though, and just as quickly the feeling had passed, and she was back to normal again. She took a deep breath, recovering and continuing on her way, the others below not noticing her stumble.
As Spike had predicted, Dana was not in his apartment when he returned. A swell of frustration coursed through his body as he stood in the middle of the small flat, hands on his hips, deciding what to do.
He hadn't asked for this. He hadn't asked for any of this. To help people, to be a good guy.. to have this damn responsibility! He sure as hell hadn't asked to have Buffy rage and storm at him just because he was alive either!
Spike turned his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes. He couldn't stand here mooning about it now, Dana was gone, and it was his responsibility to find her. He had got himself into this mess, and it was up to him to sort it out. He was going to help her, and he was going to have to do it by himself.
He could track her scent easily enough; the whole room smelt of her.. hell he smelt of her. It was just a matter of her getting away from him before he had time to find her.
It was strange, but as he picked up her trail, leaving the building and heading out onto the street, he felt almost betrayed by her abandoning him. Sure, he had left to go talk to the others, but he made sure she understood he would be coming back! She had come to him for help, why run away again?
Spike rolled his eyes at his musing. What a stupid thought.. why run away again? Why do any of this? The girl was totally mental, and not exactly the most predictable type. She didn't have anything stable to grasp hold of.. no family, no comfort, no support. She was a loose canon, a falling star.. totally devoid of rationality and sense.
But even as he thought that he knew it wasn't true. There was a part of her in there that was trying to find some sanity, there were just too many layers of pain and suffering drowning it out. It was a tragedy, Dana's life.. and such a waste. All her crazyness, fury and pain were brought about by the act of one evil person. The man that had killed her family and tortured her so much that the escape of insanity was too good to refuse. She had tipped over, and since then lead a horrible, dark and atrocious existence, made all the more chaotic by the visions and memories of past slayers.. demons.. murders.. death..
It was too much. He could understand that, and he wanted to save her.. fix her.. make her whole again. Even if there seemed to be no hope, he had to try. The girl was alone, and always would be, even surrounded by people that were trying to help her.. but that didn't make her life pointless. Dana had him after all.
Spike.. William the Bloody.. vampire with a soul, out to save a crazy slayer, who had tried to kill and maim him. Truly ironic. And.. truly rediculous. Spike shook his head; these sideways thoughts were not helping his hunt. He had to find her.
He followed her scent through streets and down alley's until he reached a crappy looking night club, blaring terrible music up through the front entrance. Spike had a horrible stab of worry about what could happen if Dana interacted with other people. He stood out the front of the building, a myriad of other people's fragrances confused his senses momentarily. He wasn't sure if she had gone inside, or continued off down another street. The trail was particularly distorted because there was one intense smell overwhelming all the others. Smoke. Cigarette smoke.
Spike looked around to see a tall black woman leaning against the night club's wall, the fag hanging losely between her fingers, a curl of smoke sweeping the air around her. She was the only one around, and she was watching him with considerable interest. He squashed a brief impulse to yell at her. He would be able to pick up Dana's trail again, he wasn't that inept at tracking, it was just that the delay might cost him time. Time he didn't have.
The woman continued to stare at him, but that probably wasn't so surprising. There wasn't much else to look at. She was very attractive, Spike noticed after a second glance, although she was dressed like a tramp from a bad private detective film. He moved over to her.
"Hey, uh, you wouldn't have seen a girl come past her would you?" he asked, only after saying it realising how stupid the question sounded.
She smiled in a saltry kind of way and tilted her head, "Lots of girls come past here," she replied, still eyeing him with a hungry expression.
"Uh, yeah of course. Um.. she has long dark hair.. and I guess it's kinda curly.. she's about this tall – and she's wearing a long black jacket, a.. mm.. sort of baggy white t-shirt and dark blue jeans," Spike elaborated, hoping wildly that he might get a lead. The girl's eyes widened for a moment, before she shrugged casually and moved away from the wall.
"I haven't seen anyone fitting that description tonight," she said, walking closer towards him, that seductive smile back in place again. "But if you've lost your girl, maybe I can offer a good.. replacement? My name's Teresa."
Spike raised an eyebrow, for a short moment almost tempted. But he resisted.. the bimbo was obviously a hooker, and he really hadn't sunk that low. Plus, he had another girl to worry about.
"Uh, sorry," he said, and moved off down the street to her left, hoping to pick up Dana's trail again, and if not go into the night club and look there.
To his great annoyance, the skanky lady followed him. "Oh come on sugar, you don't need to go home unsatisfied," she persisted, "You're not from around here, are you? You sound.. British."
Spike didn't turn around, but he could feel her advancing on him from behind. God, was he really that attractive? Or maybe she just hadn't got her night's quota yet.
"I was from England, but I've been living here for quite a while now," he replied, as he searched the air for traces of Dana.
"How long?" Teresa asked quiety, having almost caught up to him.
There.. a hint of Dana's scent! She hadn't gone into the club after all, she had come this way. And.. the smell even seemed fresher than the trail he had been following earlier.. maybe he was catching up on her?
"Oh.. a while," Spike said somewhat distractedly to the black woman, still not turning around. He began to start jogging again, but she circled around to stand in front of him. She put a hand on his chest and leaned in next to him.
Spike groaned and pushed her away, "Look. I'm sorry lady, no offense intended, because you're not bad looking, but I just don't need a ride around your pants right now. So could you just back off? Maybe go and try the bar again? I'm sure there'd be someone there quite willing to throw you down and rip all your clothes off."
She raised her eyebrows, but didn't look taken back or insulted. Quite the contrary, she looked mildly amused. She tilted her head, smiled.. and punched him in the face.
He staggered back.. she hit pretty damn hard! "Ow!" he said under his un-breath, massaging his jaw, "Why is everyone hitting me today?"
He turned around to face her, "Jeez, I said I was sorry! What you get this aggressive with everyone who turns you down?"
She grinned and changed her stance so that she was standing like a fighter, ready to attack him. "Only the vampires," she said sweetly.
He stared at her, his brain working very fast to put everything together. Then he swore and threw his hands up, "God, why me?"
"It's just the way of the world, sweetheart. You're evil, and I gotta put you down. Your number had to come up sooner or later.. are you really that surprised?"
A bloody vampire slayer. This was going to cost him lots of time.. time he didn't have. Spike was royally shitted off. This was just too much. Everything was just.. too much.
He faced the slayer, obviously waiting for him to make the first move. "Look," he said, his temper taking hold of him and the anger seeping into his voice, "I'm not evil. I have a soul. And no, I don't want to explain it to you, and I don't really give a toss if you don't believe me, because I've got better things to do than stand around and fight you."
Teresa rolled her eyes, "A soul? What you think I'm a moron? Besides, you won't be that delayed anyway, I'd wipe your blonde ass out in less than five minutes."
"I really doubt that," he said testily as he glared at her. "And actually, I do think you're a moron. What the hell kind of way of picking off vampires was that? Seducing me? I mean really! I could've bitten you like fifty times if I'd wanted to. Which I didn't, because like I said – I'm not evil."
She glared right back at him, "I just can't believe you on that. But I promise, that after I stake you, if I've made a mistake, I won't stand around and cry about it."
"You'd never be able to stake me anyway," Spike came back, crossing his arms. "You're greener than next door's grass! Crappy technique, hesitation.. I really oughta report you."
She paused, now looking unsure, "Report me?"
"To the other slayers," Spike said. "I mean, they're all here aren't they?"
"How do you know that?" she gasped, her eyes wide.
"Heard it from the top. You're searching for Dana," Spike stated matter-of-factly.
"Heard it from.." she repeated softly, bewildered at his knowledge and at the possibility that he might be telling her the truth.
"Buffy," Spike finished for her.
Her eyes widened, "Oh.. I.." she said and then her mouth opened and she stared at him like she had only just seen him. "You're.. Angel?" she asked in what almost sounded like awe.
Spike's expression was horrified.
It took a moment to recover from this insult beyond insults. "No! God – what – NO! No I'm not bloody Angel, I'm bloody Spike!" he yelled angrily, pointing to himself. The thought that Buffy had told all her new recruits about her precious Angel, and hadn't bothered to mention the other vampire with a soul, was very painful indeed.
Teresa put her hands up to rest behind the back of her head, "Oh! But.. I thought he was dead! Died closing the hellmouth, up in Sunnydale."
"I did!" Spike said, somewhat relieved that she knew who he was. "But then I came back! There was this whole thing with a necklace, and mail and.. god, I spent three whole months as a ghost in this horrible building while I-" he stopped, realising she was hanging on every word.
Odd. Three minutes ago she was dead set to kill him, and now she looked about ready to ask for his autograph.. funny world.
He shrugged casually, "Anyway, I'm fine now.. and.. I have to go."
Teresa, eyeing him with a scary expression again, making him feel like some sort of celebrity asked, "Why do you have to go? What's so important that you couldn't stay and fight me?" She crossed her arms, but not in a threatening manner, "Is it Dana? You described her before didn't you? Is.. have you found her?"
Spike watched her for a moment, considering very carefully what to say, "No. I'm looking though."
Teresa looked slightly suspicious again, "Then why were you in such a hurry, and why are you here?"
Spike inwardly wanted to yell in fury, but he composed himself well and smiled slightly, "I only just heard she was in town. I knew her from before you slayers caught her, so I figured I might look around for her, the places.. she knows."
Teresa's suspicion faded again, Spike wanting to scold her momentarily for being such a brainless trusting dolt, but figured it would be a very stupid move, and that she wasn't worth the effort. She said, "So you can help us find her?"
"Uh.. I've already talked to Buffy, if you want more advice, go find her. Me, I work better alone. Now I really have to go, so – I'll see you," he said finally, and took off at a jog down the street. She let him go unchallenged, and he didn't bother to turn and find out what she had decided to do. As long as she left him alone, he really didn't give a damn.
Dana's scent was still fairly fresh, which was a relief – all that time with that newbie slayer, Spike was sure the scent would be stone cold by now. Spike moved stealthily around a corner, his senses alert and ready to pick up even the slightest hint that she was nearby, when he was confrunted with a surprising vision.
Dana sat sitting in the middle of the small street, waiting for him. He pulled up, for a moment totally confused by this spectacle. Then he recovered and moved slowly towards her. "Dana?"
She looked at him sadly, her face wet from tears and her bottom lip crumpled under her top one. "No escaping?" she asked him, one hand clutching her white shirt, where he could see a stain of red. She was bleeding!
He hurried over to her, for a moment forgetting she was fragile and jumpy, and simply wanting to make sure she wasn't going to die on him. She flinched slightly when he squatted down next to her, but didn't make any real attempts to attack him or run away. "What happened?" he asked, gently reaching for her bloodied hand. She pulled away from him, her eyes flashing with anger and madness, despite the obvious pain she was in.
Spike backed off slightly. "Dana," he said, looking at her stomach, "I can help you. Just let me have a look.."
She glared at him and swore furiously, pushing herself backwards on the ground with her bloodied hand, away from him. "Touching me! They come for me, taking what's mine. Leave me. Always leave me. I'm alone but it's so crowded!"
"I know," Spike agreed to her babbeling, and gently began to reach out to her again. She faultered, her eyes wide and sad all of a sudden, the rage gone. Talk about your mood swings, Spike thought. "It's OK darling, I won't hurt you. We'll get you fixed up. Fixed? Remember fixed?"
Tears dripped down her cheeks and she shook her head, "I'm afraid. I'm so weak.. I'm afraid."
"Everybody gets afraid, it's alright," he said softly, trying to move closer to her still. He could tell that her injury must be pretty bad, judging from the amount of blood that covered her clothes and hands. The smell was so strong too – it was almost overpowering.
"Who did this to you?" Spike asked, blinking to try and clear his senses.
She didn't reply, she only stared at him, shaking slightly. She was beginning to lose conciousness.
Oh, bugger this!
Spike let out a grunt, moved right over to her, and looked at her wound. She shuddered and tears fell down her face. "Made it this far, but couldn't find the light. So much darkness, and the world is ending. Falling falling.. we'll all be gone and there'll be no one left to block the way," she cried softly, her voice fading as her conciousness slipped from her.
It was a bad wound. Definatley made by a knife, and she had lost a lot of blood. A lot of blood.
"Only me," she said thickly and then coughed, and spittle of blood appearing next to her lips. "Only me.."
Then her head titled to the side and her eyes closed and she went limp in his cradling arms.
"Oh no, don't you die on me!" Spike muttered angrily, standing up and lifting her with him. He took off at a run down the street, holding her as gently as possible, his hand pressed over the gash to try and stem the flow. "..Don't you die on me.."
Illyia knew what was happening now. At least she thought she did.
She should feel terrified, furious or at the very least confused. She should feel something.
But she didn't. She felt nothing, except perhaps a strange feeling that this was supposed to happen. This was the right thing..
Cordelia opened her door and walked into her bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights, she knew where everything was now. It was funny, living in the hotel. She missed her apartment in some ways, but in other ways, she liked being here. Even if she was occassionally reminded unpleasantly of the possession-higher-evil-thingo.. thing.
Cordy stepped over to her bed and sat down. She sighed, and thought of Angel. Stupid vampire, she thought angrily. Then she felt guilty. She was being very bitchy all of a sudden. She was just anxious, that had to be it. Anxious about Willow, Kennedy and Eleanor.
And about her vision. Mm..
Then someone touched her shoulder. Cordelia let out a frightened shriek, which quickly turned to her backing away frm the bed and over to the door to turn on the light.
Connor sat on her bed, an apologetic expression on his face. "Sorry," he said quickly.
Cordelia rolled her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to get her breath back. She then opened the door and stuck her head out into the corridor. "Everything's fine! Sorry!" she yelled down the hall then closed the door.
She looked back at Connor. "What are you doing here? Didn't you say you needed to go home?"
Connor shrugged, "I went home. But then I came back. I needed to talk to you."
Cordy nodded slowly and went to sit next to him. "What's up?" she asked him in what she hoped was a comforting voice; he seemed troubled.
Connor's expression was even more troubled now, poor kid. He began to speak, although he seemed uncharacteristically unsure of himself. "I.. I'm confused about things. It's.. I'm not sure what I'm doing now, with my life. I'm not sure how I'm feeling. I don't know what to do," he said quietly.
Connor looked at Cordy strangely, like he wanted to explain it better, but couldn't find the words. She reached over and put her hand on his, only briefly considering what this gesture might mean to him. But it wasn't uncomfortable. There wasn't anything in his touch or in the way he looked at her that said he still felt anything other than friendship for her. She was relieved, for she wanted them to be friends, and didn't want anything uncomfortable from the past to come between them. Connor still felt in a way like a son to her, and thinking of him, remembering him in any other manner just didn't seem right. It didn't seem like reality, and they both understood it – even if neither of them discussed it.
"You know," Connor said, breaking the silence as he tried to attempt the effort of putting his feelings into words. "When I got my memories back, it was really scary. I had all this stuff just dumped on me, and I was these two separate people trying to co-exist. Then suddenly I was me again – but I didn't even know who "me" was. Which one I was.. or wanted to be. Instinct took over and I just reacted. I killed Sarjohn. So easily, so quickly. And then I was.. just there, with the axe in my hands. Everything was so.. unbelievable and unreal. And then Angel was there, and Wesley and.. it was like I'd been thrown back into the past as a different person! And standing there, with him looking at me.. I was so afraid that once I got back to my family, my parents, my sister.. I'd think that everything was.. fake. I was afraid that their love for me.. it wasn't real love, and that nothing would ever be the same. Nothing would be true anymore – I'd question everything, what was real and what was fabricated, because my whole life had been this fantasy created by someone else. And because none of it had really happened.. I'd be living this forced lie."
His words came out in a rush, almost as though he felt that if he stopped and paused through his explanation, he would never again be able to say what he was feeling. His face was filled with emotion as he spoke, Cordelia almost sharing in it – his words were so intense. He took a shuddering breath, then smiled slightly. "But it wasn't. I got back with my mom and my dad.. and they were.. everything was normal. I didn't feel like they weren't my parents.. we were still a family. I still felt.. fine I guess. I am that person that lived all those years with them, and has all those memories. I am him, and they love me for who I am."
Connor looked up at Cordelia, his eyes almost apologetic. "But I am also someone else. I try to deny it, because it's easier to be the normal everyday well adjusted boy who's going to be a doctor than to.. even think about the other side of my life. But that doesn't make it go away. I.. I bought some books from this magic shop near my ex-girlfriends place, because I didn't want to be ignorant of the world around me. But it wasn't enough, I still.. I'm not so connected as we were, back when.. before."
He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed again, this time not looking in her eyes when he spoke again.
"The day Angel came to see me in the coffee shop.. I thought I had decided what I was going to do. I was happy living my life, keeping in touch from a distance and letting the others do the fighting. I'm not a champion, no matter what everyone else might like to think. I told Angel I didn't want back in. I wanted to cut myself off.. because I was afraid of the other side of myself.. and I figured that there were enough of you to defend the world.." he smiled briefly.
"So why did you come back?" Cordy asked him after a moment of silence.
Connor rubbed his tongue over his lips briefly, pausing before he spoke. "I.." he said, and then stopped and decided to say something else. "I needed to make sure we weren't all going to die." He laughed shortly, but Cordy could see part of it was to relax his nerves. "I mean, I trust you all but-"
"Connor," she interrupted. "That's not the real reason."
His eyes were betraying him. He faultered and sighed. "I.. I couldn't.. I had to make sure.."
Cordelia squeezed his hand, and gave him a knowing look. He couldn't leave Angel; she understood that. Too well.
"I had second thoughts," Connor continued, "I.. decided that it wasn't fair on him, it wasn't fair on the others.. it wasn't fair on me – to just abandon that other part of my life. I know what Angel did, giving me my family and a childhood and everything.. was to save me and give me a better life. And I'm gratefull.. he knows that.
"It's just – I'm still two people. Both of those people want to be with my family.. but neither of those people knows just who's in that family. Cordy.. I.."
He closed his eyes. "Angel's the only person who's every truly loved me. And I mean.. truly loved me – whatever form I was in – both sides of my life. All my life, he's loved me. He's my father. I.. can't just throw that away, and I can't just.. see him every ten months or whatever when the world's ending. I may not like it – but your world exists too – you all.. you do the bravest and most honourable job in the universe. You protect people even when they don't know it, despite all the risks and demands and sacrifices. No matter how hopeless things get, you try anyway, just because you're the only ones who can! You keep on fighting.. even when everything else turns to dust and your backs break and you're bodies scream at you to give in.. you keep on fighting. You have that strength and that courage to defend what you believe in.. and that's the most important thing I can think of. And I'm a fool for ever wanting to cut myself off."
"You're not a fool Connor," Cordelia said softly.
"No? It seems that way sometimes, for lots of reasons. I can't ever seem to do the right thing. Part of me can't believe I keep coming back here.. the other part is glad. I think I'm decided now, but will I ever really know for sure? I was convinced that I shouldn't be a part of this. And then I was convinced I had to be.." his eyes glistened and he was confused again. "I don't know what to do."
"Love makes people do foolish things," Cordelia replied.
Connor shuddered with a weight he felt inside himself. "I don't think I could ever tell him. Despite all those times he told me.."
Cordy reached over and hugged him tightly. She couldn't think of a reply to that. It was between Connor and Angel, and only time would tell what would happen.
Spike ran down the street, trying to keep Dana as steady as he could and move as fast as possible at the same time. It was raining slightly; gentle flecks of water cascaded across his cheeks as he sprinted, and dampened his hair. If his heart could beat he knew it would've been thumping madly against his chest. Spike didn't like being confused, and confusion was all this day had brought him. He still didn't really know where to take Dana. Hospital seemed the obvious answer, but what if she woke up and went nuts and tried to kill everyone? Should he go back to Angel's, who would undoubtedly turn Dana over to the slayers, even if they managed to save her.. but would she have wanted that? He didn't think so, but if she was dying he might not have another option. Maybe he could fix her up himself – get out of this environment, see how bad things were. Oh but if she was really botched up then he'd just lose time and he might lose her life too.
He clenched his jaw angrily. Morality was really annoying.
Suddenly he felt something on his cheek, and became dimly aware that Dana was awake and had reached up to touch his face. He stared at her, and felt his feet beginning to slow down, so shocked he was that she had regained conciousness.
"Don't turn out the light. I don't like the darkness," she said softly, staring into his eyes. "I'll be fine. Don't put me in the cages. I'll be fine."
"But you've lost so much blood-"
"I'll be fine. You're not alone, are you?" she said strangely.
"What? Am I.. what do you mean?" Spike was confused, even though her words were easier to understand when she wasn't angry-crazy.
"We're all going to die anyway," she said softly. "Everyone's already left me behind. It'll be better."
Spike shook his head, "No – no we can fix you – make you stronger and whole again. I can fix you, I promised I would kid, and I will."
Her eyes glistened with tears, "It's too late now. I'm already gone – I've been gone for so long.. no more.."
"No! You're not gone! Not yet, not now and you're not going to! I know death much better than you do, and it's not the easy way out you want it to be. You're not giving up, because I won't let you. Whether you understand that or not, it's the way it is."
"Knight's come to save me," Dana said sadly, but smiled a little.
"The night? Erm, yes, it did. Which means absolutley under no circumstances will you be going into the light. Understand?" he told her, hearing things out loud rather than seeing them written down sometimes making all the difference. "..sometimes darkness is good for you."
"But not always," she said. She seemed much more co-herent when she was dying. Not that she was dying! Or going to die, dammit!
"My feet can't touch the floor. Tinkerbell's dust is in my skin. It's making me float," she murmered.
"I'm carrying you."
"Is that enough?"
"I don't know," Spike murmered. For the first time he was really talking to her. He didn't know how, or why or even if he really understood what he was saying, but he knew it helped.
"I think it is. For the knight is cold and dark, but he still comes to save me. The light just can't compete."
Spike smiled, "I've always thought of night as female, but I guess that's just me."
"Just you? I've read a lot of books," she said randomly. "Lots.. and lots of books.. this isn't a fairytale.."
Spike said, "No, not really" just as she fell asleep. Not unconcious. Just asleep. He carried her home after that, and bandaged her injury. It wasn't as bad as he had feared, but she had still lost a lot of blood, and would be weak for a while afterwards. He would care for her, make sure she would recover, and then he would find the sons of bitches that had hurt her, and make them pay. And he would cure her. Help her find the sanity that she longed for, and which also tormented her with images of her horrible memories. He didn't know how, but he would find a way. He would save her, free her.
He felt responsible for what had happened to her, he couldn't help it. Not just her injury tonight, but everything else. She had thought he was the man who had hurt her and killed her parents. He wasn't, but he'd done worse to other people, and this was part of the price he payed. Atonement.
End Chapter
Author Notes: It's been a while yes? Sorry. This is my favourite chapter so far, what did you guys think? Weird much? Yes. Yes it is weird. Spike's a little OOC towards the end here, maybe, but not without reason. See the end of Damage, where he's talking to Angel, and you'll see why I think he'd be like this. Plus, it's fun to write. MWAHAHAHAH!
Ok, sorry.
I like Dana, she's going to make very interesting dialogue; not that she already hasn't. She was much more sane in the last part here, but there are reasons for that.
Next chapter:
Showdowns, angst, love, pain, blood.. more miraculous appearances of old friends (and enemies). The Immortal. More slayers. The answers to the vision - and what's really going on.. And shipping – or more correctly – horrible love triangles that have more than three sides.. ok - horrible love dodecahedrons that really aren't so horrible, but simply tragic and romantic, in true Joss Whedon honourage. He loves his tragic romances doesn't he? Because love can't be boring if you're writing about it. And nothing is less boring than pain, loss, self sacrifice and valour.
Also next chapter there's a bigger focus on his eminence, Angel.
Cuz there hasn't been enough yet really, has there?
Please Review! You have no idea how much reviews mean to me. :grovels: Pleeeease?