One Last Time
Notes/Summary: Written for the Angel Ficathon Two. Requirements will be posted at the end of the story. It's been a few months since the end of Not Fade Away. Angel's in New York, helping Faith out with his blue shadow, Illyria. Something's rising and it can only lead to…goodness? I seriously doubt that. And this fic is no pairing, on Angel's part at least.
Chapter Three: In Dreams
They've beaten him down, but there's no way in hell he's going to stay that way. He rises, like a champion, fists flying and kicks hitting targets. His attackers are after one thing, he's sure of it. They want to make sure he doesn't find Dawn until after she's fulfilled her purpose.
Sorry to disappoint, he thinks sarcastically, slamming a fist into a figure's face and watching the body slam into a wall. He throws more similar hits and then all that's left is one attempting to leave.
"Nuh-ah-ah…" he rushes after the mysterious being, catching him by the collar. Angel lifts him off his feet, holding him against the wall. "Why did you just attack me?"
"I'll die first."
"You'll probably die either way." Angel replies. He slams the demon into the wall, hearing the gasp of pain and seeing it wince. "So, I'd advise you to spill."
"You know why, vampire."
"Dawn Summers."
The demon sneered at Angel. "The Key. It's time has inevitably run out. Soon, there will be no Dawn Summers, as you call it."
One of Angel's hands enclose tighter about the demon's neck. "If you harm her-"
"Harm it?" It laughs, even with a lack of oxygen to its lungs. "We will only make sure it is in the right place at the right time."
Another demon, that Angel hadn't noticed, hits him from behind and the demon he'd held to near death spits out, "Stay away, vampire. You will only complicate things. It is in everyone's best interest if you do not get involved…for now."
The demons disappear as Angel gets to his feet. He watches them go, knowing that he won't be needing the warning. He's officially convinced that Dawn is in serious trouble. Enough trouble for demons to look into ways to keep him away.
-
The sound of footsteps takes away the notion of sleep that she had been toying with moments ago. Her eyes are wide and strands of hair fall in her face as she sees a robed figure enters the room, taking out a set of keys.
She figures that if she made an attempt to run that she'd have about five minutes before she'd be caught. The only thing that keeps her from putting her plan into action is the quickness at which the demon places the tray of food before locking the cage back.
The demon then looks at her. "It is of no use, Key. Dali must return. Your time is up."
Ironically, somewhere in her she knows exactly what he means. Somewhere inside her, she understands that this is something she's supposed to do, that's supposed to happen. She knows exactly who Dali is…destiny's a funny thing and more often than not, it throws a bunch of screwballs your way. It was just pure bad luck that Dawn was getting a bunch of them in one week.
She pulls the tray close slowly, not trusting the demon and never taking her eyes of it. It watches as she lifts the cup from the tray and takes a small sip. Water. She takes another sip, sighing in relief at the fading away of the dryness in her throat.
Hunger fills her being and she picks up the sandwich without hesitation. She takes a bite, savoring the taste; she doesn't know when's the next time it will actually occur to them to feed her. She only knows that this is her first meal since being locked in the cage and that she's been very near starving to death.
"You said my time is up." Dawn looks at the demon as it watches her eat. "What do you mean?"
"You already know." Is all the demon says, making Dawn let out a frustrated sound.
"Yeah, yeah," she mutters, taking another bite. How about filling in the rest of me?
-
It's been days since Faith told her, yet she still cannot believe that the key has been within her reach for five months. If she'd known, she is certain, much certain, she'd have taken advantage, used the key to find the last vestige of her power.
Only that would be deemed as selfish, evil. And she is a warrior of good, in Wesley's honor. The real Wesley. Not the corporeal imposter that frequents her bedroom when she is alone and spews out warnings she doesn't understand, and speaks to her more than her Wesley. Only, Wesley is dead. She's sure of it. She watched him go.
She's never had a moment similar to this. A moment of intense contemplation. Her head hurts from just the thought of Wesley, and even as she stops thinking of him, the pain increases.
She falls to her knees, grasping her head with both hands as the pain increases. She nearly growls because it is just so much.
"You are so weak, do you know that?" she stands before Illyria as her tormentor, face twisted in a scowl. Her hair is long, red, and green eyes flash viciously. "Stop worrying about Wesley. Get off your ass, and get your true self back. You're supposed to be Illyria, great god king-blah blah blah-of the primordium. Stop acting human, and start acting like you're great."
Suddenly she's gone and so is the headache. Illyria slowly pushes herself to her feet and thinks a bit about what the unknown not really female has just told her.
Good advice, Illyria concludes. Wesley, real or not, is of no importance. He is only her distraction from the bigger picture. She must find Dawn, and she must once again become the powerful Old One she really is.
-
"May, it's Faith." She says into her phone as she breezes through the front doors. "The faster you get ready, the better it is for everyone involved."
May laughs, grabbing her purse from her desk. "By the time you get up here, I'll be ready."
"Thank God." She closes her phone, stepping onto the elevator and closing her eyes as she leans back.
Finding Dawn's gotten a little bit tougher. Angel doesn't think that the demons attacked him last night are directly connected, but he does think that they're trying to prevent the search for Buffy's sister.
Throughout their min-meeting, Illyria remained strangely quiet, only responding when a question was directed her way. It continues to make Faith frown to think of it and she's frowning now, only taken out of her thoughts by a (very unwanted) voice.
"Faith."
She opens her eyes and instantly wishes she was somewhere else. Home somewhere else. Or maybe with Xander…somewhere in Africa…or a beach. Definitely a beach. There's something to be said about the ideas of Xander without a shirt…
She's smiling, maybe a bit goofily, and Wood's staring at her. Once she notices all of this, she frowns. "What?"
"I asked how the search was going. For Dawn," he adds when a look of recognition fails to show on her face.
"Oh. Um. It's…it's going. I'm just meeting May for lunch." Faith says stiffly, her eyes raising to her numbers. They're at floor eleven and she's going to the twentieth.
"Oh. Where are you going?"
Faith's hoping he doesn't ask to join them, because she'd really prefer to not have him there. They're at floor twelve.
"Just that pizza place a couple blocks away." She replies, watching Wood's face slightly wrinkle. He hates that place, which is exactly why she mentions it.
"Have fun." Wood says. Then: "I heard Xander was coming to New York."
Faith suddenly turns to face him. "Wood, what are you playing at?"
She doesn't do small talk. She doesn't like it. Small talk is something people do when they don't really want to have a conversation with someone and are just trying to fill up space and time.
"Getting at?" he echoes. "I'm not getting at anything."
"You're sure about that?" Faith asks. She's giving her suspicious look, because she really has no reason to believe half the crap that comes out his mouth.
"Look, Faith, I don't know what Angel or his Blue Freak have you thinking, but-"
"Okay, one, lay off Ria. She may be blue and weird and everything, but she can kill you, so I wouldn't call her that to her face. Two-Angel told me nothing. I left because I wanted to. As you've noticed, Angel kept the nice spacious office he was bribed with."
"So now we bribed him, Faith?"
Floor nineteen, Faith notices as she yells, "It's exactly what I think! And, for the record, if Xander does come to New York-and he will, he'll most likely end up on a date with me."
The doors of the elevator open to the twentieth floor, and there stands May, eyebrow raised as she catches the last part. "Looks like I made it just in time."
"Um…yeah…can we just go?" Faith asks, aggravated from the last few moments she's spent in Wood's presence. Never had she had to deal with an ex on a nearly day-to-day basis before. How the hell did Buffy handle that crap?
"Sure. See ya, boss." May says to Wood, stepping on as he exits, grinning as the doors close. "So," her attention is on Faith. "What's this about Xander Harris and you?"
Faith gives her a bright grin.
-
She reappears in her apartment in England. It's furnished nicely, suited for her. She'd bought it after she and Kennedy relocated back to headquarters. She takes a moment to remember her surroundings, and then lets out a slight sigh, rolling her head on her shoulders.
"Kennedy?" she calls out, entering their bedroom. She sees with satisfaction that the brunette is still feeling the effects of the sleeping spell she'd been placed under. Less suspicion for her and everyone else involved this way. It also means Willow doesn't have to kill Kennedy; she had liked it while it lasted. But things are different, and would be different and they wouldn't know each other anymore.
The phone rings and she leaves her bedroom, hurrying out to the kitchen. She grabs the phone off the hook with a bit of flare and places the receiver to her ear; she already knows who it is. "Red here."
"Nice to see you using the code name." His voice is familiar, as is the accent and she can imagine him smirking as he leans on a phone booth in Australia.
"Gotta do something, right, Will?" She asks, grinning now that she knows who she's talking to. She takes a seat at her counter. "How's the Aussie country?"
"Very Aussie." He replies dryly. "Get down to business, Red." He practically demands.
She rolls her eyes softly. "Okay. I hurried it along, like you suggested."
"Had a talk with Blue, then."
"Yep." She pops the 'p.' "She'll do it, I'm sure of it."
There's a knock on her door. She stands and walks towards it slowly. "Hold a sec, Will." She looks in the peep hole and spies Xander standing in her hallway.
"Will?"
"Company?"
"Yeah. Call you back later?" She asks.
"I'll call you."
She turns the phone off and tosses it back onto the couch before opening the door. Xander grins at Willow and gives her a hug before entering the apartment; Willow wonders what he'd do if he knew what she was up to.
-
Spike hangs up the phone, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He's taken up smoking since they escaped the alley. In his chase of Gunn. The only thing he's grateful for is the fact that he has yet to have run into Buffy. A disaster that would be, considering that he no longer wants anything to do with her-always have your eyes on the big picture, right?
Be grateful for small favors, he thinks to himself as he watches the club across the street. As he leans on the payphone, it occurs to him that he really needs to get a cell phone, though he's not sure how much longer he'll need it once they go for the big war. The End.
The one person he's been following for five months leaves the building and he narrows his eyes, then stepping off the sidewalk to cross the street and follow him down the dark street. It's almost dawn, and he figures he'll have to call it a night sooner or later, unless he can manage to step things up in Red's plan.
Gunn's ahead of him, unknowing-maybe he does know that Spike is following him, as he bypasses the last of the industrial district and nears an abandoned warehouse. Spike pauses a moment and watches him slip inside, almost unnoticeably. Then Spike follows.
He nears the door, and pauses for another moment to listen and at least get an idea of what he's about to walk into. He can hear voices, and gets the feeling that Gunn isn't the only vampire in the warehouse. But there are two humans.
"I've arranged for a plane to leave the airport in a half hour." It's a female voice, one Spike's never heard before, but has some authority, obviously.
"We're going to New York?" Gunn asks. "Angel's there."
"Oh, but the one who hunts, hunts, hunts, knocks at the door." A lilting voice responds with a bit of a playful edge. Dru. Of course. It figures, Spike thinks. It really does.
"What?" Gunn asks. "She's not coming with us, is she?"
The female's, "Not if I can help it" is drowned out by another familiar voice's, "Spike's here."
It's amazing, in retrospect, how many people you think are dead and gone that really aren't, Spike thinks. Wesley working for the enemy, or-
"Which would you rather deal with, Gunn?" Wesley continued.
Spike has heard enough by now, and he enters the warehouse, causing the four occupants to look at him. Drusilla claps her hand gleefully, saying that the hunter's here, at which point it then occurs to Wesley how much more accurate Drusilla was being.
Spike raises and eyebrow at them, because it's much more fun to nonchalant about the whole thing, and says, "Is this a private party, or can anyone join in on the fun?"
-
He's sleeping on his side, on a hard cold surface when he awakes. This isn't right, he thinks, slowly climbing to his feet.
He takes a look around, his eyes catching on the slabs of stone in the center of the room. Eyes narrowed, he nears it every so slowly, suspicious even as it seems to be deserted.
"You really shouldn't be here, Angel." She says from her stance behind him. He turns around to face to origin of the voice.
"Dawn."
She smiles slightly. "Hey." She looks over his shoulder and then back at him, pausing. "I did mean what I said just now. You shouldn't be here. Not now, not ever. It's going to change everything. It'll make everything harder for us."
"What do you mean?" he asks her, brow furrowed.
Her gaze once again lifts to just over his shoulder and, as if distracted, she walks past him, towards the altar he'd first seen. "Oh, you'll see."
Angel hurries to catch up to her, but she disappears and he slows to a stop as he finally nears one of two altars. There's a body on it. A very familiar, very much struggling, body as she is pinned and bound to it. A sacrifice.
"Dawn," he breathes.