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Chapter 5

The exhausted vampire had been on the phone all morning trying to track down his old friend. Thankfully Angel had still retained a handful of connections long after Wolfram and Hart had fallen to pieces. Fifty or so calls and threats later, he managed to find someone with a number.

Now this was the hard part. Strange that he never thought that that was what it would be, only because it was simple in theory. All he had to do was press the numbers, and wait for him to answer. But the thing that made it difficult was the fact that Angel knew his friend didn't want to be answering his call.

The first time the vampire dialed, he waited for it to start ringing, and then suddenly hung up. This really wasn't something he was looking forward to, and that was only because he had no idea of what it was that he was meant to say? Possibly something along the lines of 'Hey, I know you don't want anything to do with me, but I need your help' sure, that could work... or not.

Damnit! Why did placing a simple to call to someone that he at one time had considered a close friend, seem so hard?

Taking a deep unnecessary breath Angel once again picked up the handset. Punching in the numbers, he waited, and waited. He wouldn't back out this time and simply hang up, after all this was the only chance he had of helping Buffy, and that was now his main priority.

"Hello." He heard the voice on the other end of the line, had he not had so much on his mind, Angel would have smiled. The vampire really had missed his friend.

"Lorne, it's Angel... don't hang up." He begged, it had taken a lot of guts for him to make the call, and Angel just hoped that the demon wouldn't turn him away.

"Angel?" Lorne was thrown back, he thought he had made it perfectly clear that he had no desire at all to be contacted, no matter what, he was done. As far as Lorne was concerned he had seen enough evil, and truly thought he deserved a little of the good life.

"I need your help." Angel pleaded.

The desperation in the vampire's voice was so clear that even though he wanted to, Lorne couldn't hang up. After all, Angel was a friend, and although he didn't necessarily feel that he owed the vampire in any way -that debt had been recovered when he'd shot Lindsey in cold blood- Lorne would never say no to him.

"L.A?" The green demon questioned, his stomach turning at the thought of returning to a city that he now despised with every fiber of his being. A complete turn around from the way he felt just over five years ago. Back then he would have given anything to live the rest of his long life, surrounded by the bright lights, ocean views, flashy cars, and numerous sea breezes that he had been accustomed to.

But a lot had changed, he being one thing. Time and isolation could do that to a demon.

"When can you get here?" Angel asked, hoping it wouldn't take him longer than a few hours, as he wanted Lorne there with him tonight when he went to see Buffy.

"Five or so hours." Lorne replied, before they both said a quick goodbye and hung up their phones.


The drive from the airport to the institution was made in awkward silence. Aside from the quick greeting they had made as Lorne collected his luggage, the two demons hadn't uttered a single word to one another.

Lorne had questions, in fact there were quite a few, one being where in the hell was it that they were headed? And the second which had to be the main thing he wanted to know, was why on earth did Angel need him in the first place?

As he watched Angel weave his way through busy traffic in the darkened streets of L.A he finally did what he had been wanting to since he'd answered the phone earlier that day. "What's going on?" Lorne asked.

Angel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, how was he meant to answer that? Each time he thought about what was happening and where it was that they were headed, he wanted to scream her name, as though his own pain and suffering would make her better. And for that matter why wouldn't it? It seemed that that was all that ever happened to them, either he was hurting, or Buffy was hurting... If it turned out that they were both happy at the same time, than it was obvious that the powers weren't doing their jobs properly.

They were after all obsessed with making the warriors suffer.

"Buffy." Was the only word he could manage, it seemed that Angel was just hoping that the green demon would understand everything that was going on when he saw the blonde. Instead of having to answer questions that he really didn't want to be answering right now.

A million different things had gone through Lorne's mind from the second that he'd hung up after Angel had called earlier that day. But the one and most obvious, for some unknown reason hadn't. Buffy... why was it that Lorne didn't think that the slayer was the one that had Angel so shaken up? The more he sat in silence thinking about it now, the more he remembered, and realized why that was. "Angel... Isn't Buffy dead?"

Taking his eyes off the dark road ahead, the vampire turned his attention to his once friend. "You knew?" Was all he said, instead of the simple yes or no Lorne had been asking for.

Now it was Lorne who felt uncomfortable, how was he meant to explain this one? Yes he knew, in fact he'd been there to pick up the pieces when a distraught vampire had shown up on his door step, wanting to find a way to turn back time, or do something that would help ease the pain. "Spike." He whispered, diverting Angel's gaze, as he could already feel the mood shift. He knew exactly how Angel felt when it came to the idea alone of Spike, but associating the blonde vampire with Buffy, was one thing that pushed Angel that one step too far.

"Spike?" Angel asked, trying as hard as he could to contain the growl. With his fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, his knuckles slowly turning white, Angel returned his focus to the road. Pulling one hand away for a brief moment, he flicked on the indicator, and made a right turn onto the street that would lead them to the institution.

Lorne took a deep breath. He hated talking to Angel about Spike, as from memory it never ended well. "I made him call you... you had a right to know what had happened." He knew instantly that his revelation was about to raise so many questions.

The institution was another half a mile away, but that didn't seem to stop Angel from pulling the car over to the side of the road. "Am I missing something?" He questioned the green demon, as he pulled on the hand break, and turned to face his friend. Things certainly weren't adding up, how the hell did Spike find Lorne, and for that matter why had Lorne not called himself?

Turning away from the confused vampire, Lorne fixated his gaze on the oncoming headlights of a white van, one that was most likely on its way out to pick up, or for that matter drop off, another patient. But Lorne didn't know that, as he still had no idea of where the hell it was that they were actually going. Still, anything was more appealing than looking at Angel as he questioned him.

Sure, it was in fact true that Lorne had a lot of explaining to do, but so did the vampire, as he still hadn't confessed his reasons for urging Lorne onto the first plane out of New York. "I was wondering the same thing." He replied, if Angel wanted answers, than who was to say that the demon didn't as well? "Where are we going, what does it have to do with Buffy, and why do you need my help for this?"

Suddenly everything started caving in on Angel, as Lorne's questions waited for answers. Then there was Spike, why and where had he came from? Why was it that even her death had been tainted by his presence? But then again it seemed so hard for a vampire to recall a day where his grandchilde hadn't tainted her.

Maybe that was because he'd pushed those days away, not welcoming the good memories, as it made it so much harder to let her go. What he wouldn't give to have the chance to make another good memory with her.

Opening the door, as the need to be out in the welcoming dark night was to strong a thing to fight, Angel stepped out of the car. Instantly the cool night breeze assaulted him, it seemed that the closer they got to the institution, the colder everything was. Sure that didn't affect Angel physically, but it did serve as a reminder, of how alone, cold and cut off the woman he still loved, more than he could ever put into words, was from everything.

It was then that Lorne followed, it wasn't like the old days anymore. Angel couldn't do all the questioning and turn his back when anyone else wanted answers. Things had changed, obviously they both had, and one thing for sure, Lorne wasn't such a push over anymore.

"So let me get this straight, you get me on a plane, pick me up from the airport, and rush me off to God knows where we're going, and the only explanation you see fit to give me is Buf-"

"We're going to an institution," Angel said, cutting Lorne off in the middle of his outburst, and turning to face him "Buffy's not dead Lorne, she's just... she's insane." How was it that just saying that, that word, insane, made him feel like he was giving up on her?

Lorne stopped in his tracks; he didn't know what to say. Angel just seemed to be full of surprises today, first the slayer was alive, and now she was locked up in an asylum. For the first time in years, his heart ached for another, the thought of the one girl that had done so much to save the world ending up in a place like that. And then there was Angel, the man that never seemed to escape his fate of eternal suffering. When would it be enough, when would the powers meet him half way and give him if not his reward of humanity, then at least the death he'd been craving for, for too long now?

"I'm sorry." He offered, what else could he say...

"Don't be," Angel returned, looking up at the green demon "Just help me get her back."

After holding his gaze for a moment, Lorne then turned, eyeing off the faint outline of the institution under the glow of the moonlight. He shivered, the temperature getting even cooler, the irony was not lost on him considering the season. "How?" He wondered, not sure if he'd said that to himself or out loud.

Angel took a step forward, moving closer to his friend and the opened car door. "I need you to read her." Was the last thing he said before getting back into the car and waiting for Lorne to do the same.


"No," She screamed, as the psychiatrist tried yet again to get some answers "NO!" Buffy took a step back, her hands coming up to cover her ears.

The noise, all the noise, it was too much. Talking, talking, talking. She couldn't understand what was being said, and the only thing she could make out held a promise of death. "Watch them die Slayer." She whispered, the words although coming out of her own mouth, she mistook as coming from the approaching doctor.

"No." She cried this time, images flashing through her mind. People, people she knew... dying. Without will her body gave way, now lying face first on the floor, she continued to sob.

Flashes of angry flickering flames tearing through the building, tearing through her loved ones, as she was bound, tortured, and forced to watch. Screams so loud, of anguish and pain. Pleads, begging for it to be over, begging for her to save them. Faces she knew and loved so much, turned to ash, and all she could do was scream "Arrrrrhhh" bringing herself to her knees, Buffy tried to make it all go away. Everything, and everyone she loved had left her, and then, the last straw, his face flashed in front of her, slowly turning to ashes.

Just as the Doctor took a step closer, he then took three back, jumping away, as Buffy vomited on the floor before her, the things she'd seen making her physically ill.

Not even two minutes later, Margaret ran into the room, coming to the slayers aid, while demanding that the doctor tell her what he had said to the blonde. Sometimes the monitor's microphone wouldn't pick up every word, especially if whatever was said was whispered.

"I didn't say anything, all I asked was if she would tell me about her dreams, these new ones, and she just kept screaming." He said as he watched Margaret reach for the phone that sat snuggly in its case on her hip, clipped onto her belt. The nurse then called someone to come and clean the room, before she went about giving Buffy something to calm her, not so much knock her out, just calm her enough to be bathed.

Margaret hated seeing her in a zombie state, but it was always so much easier to wash her when she was somewhat awake.


"So... Spike." Angel finally brought the subject back up as they both stepped out of the car and began the walk up the short path to the institution. It was only fair that Lorne tell him all that he knew, considering that Angel had done so regarding his intentions on dragging the demon to L.A.

He'd known this was coming from the moment Angel had confessed all there was to about Buffy. And he was dreading the conversation, but to be fair, Angel had answered him, and so he owed him that much in return. "Long story short?" He asked, referring to the way that the vampire would like it told, as they were just outside the institution and anyone could tell that the vampire was eager to see his love.

Just the look on his face told Lorne so much that he didn't even need an answer to that. It was funny that years ago he'd gone on with tales of Kyrumption with Fred, and how it reflected what the vampire shared with Cordelia. But the look in his eyes, that moment told him so much more, as the closer they got to Buffy the more Lorne understood about Angel's feelings and who it was that his heart had always belonged to. He wondered what it was going to be like when they were in the same room together... most likely something so much stronger than a silly word.

"You knew Spike left L.A after the big one." He said to Angel referring to their last apocalyptic battle. At his nod the demon continued with his explanation. "Well he went straight to Buffy."

Angel figured as much, but still just the knowledge of it made him want to break something, preferably a certain bleach blonde vampire's neck. Pausing at the entrance, he waited for Lorne to finish before walking inside.

"He never told me the whole story, just that he was sent out to patrol, and when he got back, the building was ablaze and that she was inside." Lorne hung his head in shame, he'd so desperately wanted to call his friend, to tell him what had happened himself, to be there for him, even if it was only over the phone. But he just couldn't do it, he couldn't go back to the people and places he had wanted to forget. "Then-

"He told me." Angel finished, knowing the rest of the story. He'd hoped that Lorne would have had a lot more information, like who, and how he could find them and make them pay.

The green demon nodded, wishing already that he could have had more useful information. "So what I was wondering is, if Spike said she was dead, why is she alive and why L.A. of all places?"

Angel opened the glass door, and let his friend walk in first. "That's the million dollar question." he returned before they made their way down the halls and to Buffy's room.


Lying there, in her catatonic like state, Buffy continued to stare at the ceiling. It was quiet now, the voices gone, the images to... nothing but silence. But that was usually worse, because the sorrow never left. She may not have been sure why she was hurting, it was easy for the blonde to forgot everything, and just go blank at times. But she was accustomed to pain, and even when it was too hard to understand, it still hurt like hell. Somehow the slayer knew that the heartache would always be a part of her life.

In the recesses of her fragile mind she heard the door to her room open, and before she had the chance to think, to understand, not that she ever really would. It all came rushing back to her.

Fire. Smoke. Ashes. And the cold, her life... she was cold.

Slowly she rose to her feet, and walked around her room not seeing who was there, not understanding until it hit her, a sensation attacking the base of her spine, working its way through her stomach. She knew this, this feeling, vampire, demon, lov-

"Cold." She whispered as she reached out, thinking it might just be the same wall that she came in contact with on a daily basis. Touching it, hoping to find that it was something else.

Only this time it wasn't the wall, this time, her hand seemed to be touching a smoother surface. Angel's face.