Entry tags:
Fic: Divided Destiny. Chapter 16
First chapter & notes here (on LJ), for DW just follow the tags, and Master post of whole 'verse here (also tagged on DW).
Can also be found on AO3.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating: Teen. (Same warnings as the show basically.)
Characters: Spike, Angel, Illyria, Buffy, Scoobies + cameos from more or less everyone in the 'verse.
Main Ships: Spike/Buffy, Angel/Nina
Feedback: Is bloody ambrosia! (The secret ingredient is otter...)
Word count (this chapter): 3700 words approx.
Setting and Summary: As before. (Post-NFA epic quest thing.)
Beta: The ever wonderful![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kathyh
Chapter 16
Nina was busy trying to locate her homework when the phone rang.
As she called out a good-bye to Jill and Amanda - Jill practically pushing Amanda out the door - Nina held the phone between her ear and shoulder, rifling through the stack of papers on the kitchen counter. Her essay oughtn’t to be there, but it wasn’t anywhere else - and was rather thrown by Angel’s request when her brain finally got round to processing it.
“You want to come visit now? Um... that’s fine, except I have to go to college in 10 minutes-”
She could vividly picture the guilty look on his face as she heard him apologise and say that he’d explain once he was there.
“OK,” she replied, putting the receiver down and dragging a hand through her hair in frustration. The next moment the now familiar bright flash of an opening portal erupted in the middle of the sitting room, and then Angel and Illyria stepped through.
“I will see you tomorrow,” Illyria said to Angel, then walked past Nina as though she didn’t exist, and a few seconds later the front door shut. Fred was obviously not in today.
Angel slowly sat himself down on the sofa, and Nina could tell that something was... off. It had barely been two weeks since he’d left, after a lovely (if somewhat fraught) Christmas, but the look on his face now seemed to belong to a different man. And she could smell the faintest hint of smoke, which was a little confusing.
Before she could ask what the matter was, he shifted, frowning.
“Um...” he sat up and moved the cushion he was leaning against - and pulled out her essay.
“Oh my god. Thank you! I’ve spent half an hour looking for that.”
“My pleasure.”
He smiled at her, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Angel... what’s the matter?”
She sat down next to him, taking his hands, but when he looked up into her eyes she had a horrible sense of deja-vu, and rising anger.
“Oh... you’ve... You’ve come to break up with me, haven’t you?”
He sat very still for a few moments, then slowly said, “I’ve come to be honest - with myself most of all I think. If you feel you still have reason to stay with me afterwards...”
He let the sentence hang as though he didn’t expect the outcome to be positive.
“Angel? I’m sorry but - I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“How many people died here last May?”
The question came out of nowhere and she momentarily faltered. By some silent agreement they never talked about what had caused him to break up with her back then... any of it really. He’d apologised, she’d forgiven him, and they just moved on. What did it mean that he brought it up now?
After a moment’s hesitation she shook her head a little. “I... I’m not sure of the final figure...”
He looked down at their hands and said quietly, “I know you have to go - and I don’t want you to be late because of me. But could I borrow your PC while you’re gone? I need to look this up.”
“Sure,” she replied, somewhat relieved that she had to leave, and swiftly switched on the computer in the dining room.
As he sat down, he looked up at her. “Thank you - I could have done this at the Council, but there were lots of Slayerettes, and Buffy and Spike.... And I needed-”
“It’s OK. You’re always welcome here.” She bent down and kissed him on the cheek, before stowing her essay into her bag. “I have to hand this in, but might blow off the classes later on...”
Then she ran out the door, wondering again what on earth she was doing falling in love with a souled vampire.
***
When she came back four hours later he was still sitting in front of the screen, reading. Silently she walked up behind him, and without turning his head he answered her unspoken question.
“Found a website with links to obituaries for all the victims.”
“And... you’re reading them?”
He nodded, eyes still fixed on the screen.
“Angel...” Slowly she laid her hand on his shoulder. “Why?”
Finally he turned, and tilted his head, eyes dark. “Because I killed them.”
“But-”
“Nina, look...” Tiredly he rubbed his eyes, then sat forwards, elbows resting on his knees. “I... I’ve killed so very, very many people in my life. When I was evil I did it for pleasure... and I remember them all because I loved to watch them suffer. But this-” he waved towards the PC, “was war; a real war. My war. My chance to accomplish something... and these people were the collateral damage.” He stopped for a moment, eyes distant. “So, facing up to that - the price that innocents have to pay in what I do - I thought that the least I could do is to remember them along with all the rest. Their faces should haunt me also...”
She mulled this over quietly for a moment, feeling strangely hollow inside. Then she asked, “Why now?”
He looked down and suddenly buried his head in his hands.
“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” he mumbled, and she walked around and kneeled down in front of him.
“Do what? Angel, talk to me.”
He looked at her then, sighing deeply. “Do you think the war in Iraq is justified?”
“Um...” She blinked at the unexpected question, and didn’t know what to say. Thankfully he didn’t seem to expect an answer.
“That is what I do - fight a battle where the end must justify the means. It’s tearing me apart, but I can’t stop now... Remember how you told me I was your hero? Am I still?”
She stared at him silently for a moment, at the despair hiding just under the surface, then asked the only relevant questions he could think of.
“Angel… What happened? Where did you go, what did you do?”
(‘Who did you kill?’ was on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped herself.)
When he spoke, the story wasn’t what she’d expected.
“I… destroyed a people’s livelihood. Burned down their village, their food stores, their work… Because they betrayed us. It was vengeance and a warning and a message. The thing is, if I had been evil still, it wouldn’t have been any different - certainly, I’m sure they couldn’t see the difference. I think…”
His voice trailed off, and she waited. Last time it had been rushed, Angel forcing her out of his life ‘for her own good’, with no explanations, just an overbearing ‘I Know Best’ held up as an impenetrable shield. This time she was getting a look below the surface, and she wasn’t about to waste the chance.
“I think that’s it,” he slowly continued. “I spent a hundred years trying to come to terms with the evil I had committed, distancing myself from the monster, and now… The things I do are no different to what I did back then. I do them for different reasons, but that doesn’t matter to those I hurt or kill.”
“It matters to me,” she said softly, and he almost flinched.
“No Nina, you don’t understand. Someone once told me that cruelty's the only thing I ever had a true talent for - and they were right. I hate myself for it, but it comes naturally. And… I can’t pretend otherwise anymore. Darla saw it straightaway - and Dru felt the full force of it. As did Buffy, and Cordy… And Buffy knows, now. What I do, and how. You should see the way she looks at me. You should look at me the same, Nina. I am a weapon, nothing more. I tried - I hoped - or deluded myself that the end justified the means. It doesn’t. But I can’t stop. And I thought you deserved to know.”
She was silent for a long time, trying to understand what he was saying. She knew so little about his past, and had deliberately not gone looking. And had not enquired overly into their current quest - even Buffy was mostly in the dark she knew. He’d come into her life as a hero; not saving her so much as saving her from herself. Showing her that it was possible to live hand-in-hand with the monster inside, that a balance was possible.
So yes, she understood what he was saying. Could she live with herself if she had to let the wolf loose every month? Even if the reason was to accomplish something that would eventually make the world a better place overall?
She had never thought about war in any sort of detail, even if she had friends who had walked in protest marches… War was an abstract, except… One of her grandfather’s had fought in World War II. Had never ever talked about it, but she knew from her grandmother that it had been hell for him.
Slowly she shook her head, a shape of something settling in her mind.
“You are not a weapon, Angel. You are a soldier. Like the one bombing Japan maybe, and I don’t know if that can ever be justified, even if it ended the war. But if… if you can carry on, I can be here for you.”
In response to her words he fell silent for so long that she began to worry. Was this good or bad? His silences were something she had tried to adjust to - random questions could bring them on, and she knew Spike snarked about the ‘brooding’, but she was also loath to gauge their depth, to find out what lay behind the sudden darkness in his eyes. And now… What could he be thinking? Had she said something wrong?
Eventually, he nodded.
“Thank you,” he said solemnly. “I never… I never saw it like that. It doesn’t make it right, but it helps.”
Which was reassuring, if cryptic.
But then he got that look in his eyes again.
“Just one thing. Don’t get me wrong, but... Remember what I told you back then? In May? I will hurt you. Not on purpose, but every single person I’ve ever cared about is worse off because of me. Illyria was right. And sooner or later something will happen to you too, because of me. I know it...”
At this something snapped inside her. Not again! She fixed him with angry eyes, and spoke slowly and carefully, hoping that he’d get the message this time:
“Listen, maybe you will hurt me, maybe you won’t. No one can tell the future, not even you. But what I do know is that everyone gets hurt - that’s part of life. Every time anyone takes a chance on love they also know that they might end up with a broken heart... just ask my sister, who had the divorce from hell. So let me take my chances with the man who is strong enough to face what he’s doing and honest enough to tell me. And who will allow me to make up my own mind. Besides,” she tried to smile, feeling scared and hopeful and nervous, and yet somehow more sure of herself than she had before, even as she spoke a truth she had barely dared to acknowledge to herself: “I think I’m in love with you.”
His face was a picture of stunned surprise as she leaned forwards and kissed him.
***
Dawn was just breaking over Rome when Angel and Illyria stepped back into The Council. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since they left, and yet Angel felt more at peace than he’d would have thought possible the previous day. Maybe peace wasn’t the right word... gratitude probably came closer. For Nina to accept him - to be there for him - quite simply because she thought he needed it... he wasn’t quite sure what to say or do in response. Again he had been reminded just how different this thing they had was from any other relationship he’d had. He had always felt that their relationship was on borrowed time - adoring her company whilst at the same time keeping in mind that surely, sooner or later, it’d end again. Because that was just how it was with him and women. Now however, he could suddenly see something new, something that might be hope...
Which of course was absurd, even though the fact that she just liked him - not who he had been, who he could be, not who he wanted to be - but just him, was like the most incredible gift, just when he’d finally decided to own up and declare the whole thing over.
Slowly he let his mind run through some of the new names and faces... all his new victims. He’d taken the power of Wolfram & Hart - and yes, he had been blinded by it, because it wasn’t something he’d ever had. He had been in possession of the greatest weapon he’d ever held, and he couldn’t not wield it... but it had cut down so many innocents too. He’d been hiding from that for a long time, focussing on his own loss - his friends, his redemption. And yet if he was honest he’d known all the way back in the alley - back when he’d been on the verge of passing out and realised that the demon hordes were thinning. Where had the rest gone? Well now he knew...
“Spike is late. Again.” Illyria observed, and Angel was torn out of his musings. Sighing, he pulled out his phone and dialled Spike’s number, hoping he wasn’t too far away. They really should be going - and after Wolfram & Hart’s latest trick, they ought to be thinking of new ways too see their girlfriends... despite all the Slayers, he didn’t feel safe.
Thoughts immediately jumping back to yesterday’s conversation, his eye unfocussed as he listened to the phone ring.
A soldier… He wasn’t sure why the word made such a difference, but it did. He had always thought in terms of being a monster or a hero; of being the leader, or - in Illyria’s vocabulary - a king. His battles, his war. But hadn’t he just been doing the work of the Powers That Be all this time? And wasn’t he just the supporting act this time round, with Spike being the Prophecy Boy? He wasn’t quite sure how to make it all fit, he needed time to re-evaluate things, but maybe…
Then Spike finally answered his phone, and Angel didn’t wait for him to speak, immediately asking:
“Are you ready to go then?”
There was a hesitation at the other end of the line, and then a sigh. “Come up to Johnson’s office, yeah?”
Angel could hear the tension in the other’s voice, and a little later he stood in the doorway watching Buffy pacing the floor, phone welded to her ear, and Johnson and two secretaries looking worried. Spike was on a sofa, slowly turning an unlit cigarette over in his hands.
“Are you sure, Xander?” Buffy’s voice was pleading. “Locator spells can be tricky...” she listened for a moment, then pulled a face. “Yes I know that she was the best wicca in the whole coven, but... just get her to try again, OK?”
Seeing them Spike came over and, not taking his eyes off Buffy, quietly said, “Willow’s gone missing.”
“Missing?” Angel asked, frowning. “You mean someone’s kidnapped her?”
Spike shrugged. “Dunno. She was out in the desert all by herself, and now they can’t reach her. Buffy must have got every wicca that The Council knows to do spells to try to find her, but...”
Turning off her cell Buffy looked up at the newcomers, and seeing Illyria her face suddenly changed.
“Hey! She can open portals! You - Madam Hell god - I need to go to the desert. Johnson - please give her the precise co-ordinates while I go get some better shoes and backup.”
Illyria slowly tilted her head, eyes turning dangerous.
“I do not follow orders from lesser beings.”
Buffy walked up to the god and stared straight into her eyes. “My best friend is missing, and you will help me.”
Then she smiled. “Of course if we find her, Willow can probably teleport you back here in case you don’t have enough power...”
“I do not require the help of witches!” Illyria bristled, but Buffy didn’t flinch, just did the patented ‘what-I-say-goes!’ stare. “In which case you shouldn’t mind doing me a favour.”
There was a moment’s silence, then Illyria inclined her head a fraction. “I shall aid your search.”
Angel shook his head in amazement; the time of miracles was clearly not over.
***
The sun was already burning hot in the sky when Buffy stepped through the portal. Not far off she saw Willow’s little tent and was soon standing next to it, Kristina and Gemma behind her. Slowly she tiptoed around to the entrance, before - heart suddenly beating wildly - she lifted the tent flap and looked inside. But the inside was empty too. Bewildered she looked around, and then asked her two slayers to search for anything that might give them a clue as to what had happened.
A few minutes later they were even more puzzled. There was no sign of struggle or violence, and all of Willow’s things were there - right down to the cellphone that had registered the dozens of missed calls...
Illyria stood around looking bored and impatient, and finally spoke up.
“She was here to find the Beast of the Apocalypse. Maybe it found her - and slew her.”
“But... how? Where?” Buffy looked around, and with a terrible, sinking feeling began wondering how much of the desert she might have to look through to find... No she wouldn’t even think it.
Illyria didn’t move a muscle, and yet appeared to somehow look even more disapproving. “In my original form I swallowed such as her whole. They were but motes, like a fly against my hide.”
Buffy looked at Kristina, who swiftly lowered her eyes. And Buffy suddenly realised how stupid she had been bringing this particular girl - she’d just wanted to bring the best fighters, and not stopped to think about the fact that Kristina’s whole family had been killed by Bringers, and that this was probably very traumatic for her. Catching the girl’s eyes, she softly said:
“Look - I shouldn’t have brought you. I’m sorry.”
Kristina shrugged a little. “It’s all part of the job, isn’t it?”
“It doesn’t have to be...”
There were so many of them now.
“I think it does,” Kristina replied, meeting Buffy’s eyes evenly, and Buffy smiled, grateful for the support and understanding. Sometimes it was hard to remember the terrified, jumpy girl Kristina had been when she first arrived.
Then Buffy’s cell rang and Xander’s voice crackled through.
“Buffy... Mahima has done the spell five times now with a variation of different maps. And they all said the same - Willow... isn’t anywhere.”
Hearing the strain in his voice as he tried to keep it even suddenly made tears burn behind Buffy’s eyes.
“I... I know,” she replied. “I got Illyria to take us to the desert and it’s like... like Willow just went ‘poof’. No sign of a fight or anything. She’s just... vanished. Illyria-” She swallowed, “Illyria thinks that this Beast-thing might have eaten her... or... or something.”
It looked more and more likely that Willow really had bitten off more than she could chew this time. Not that she was reckless the way she had once been, but she had a lot confidence in her powers these days. Too much maybe?
Saying a subdued good-bye, and promising to call as soon as she knew anything, Buffy turned off the phone.
Looking at her fellow slayers she took a deep breath, wishing dearly that she’d thought to bring a hat, because the heat lay on her head like a molten helmet.
“Maybe we should spread out - look around to see if there might be some clues further away...”
Illyria shook her head. “You will not find your friend’s body. I do not sense death in the air...” Slowly she turned, apparently scanning the surroundings.
“There is nothing here. You waste time - I will return to my own quest now.”
And that was that. They collected most of Willow’s things, leaving only the tent and the cell - knowing that if Willow came back she’d be able to make it work by magic... and then they left.
As Buffy stood in Johnson’s office once more, watching the desert and the lonely, empty tent vanish, she could feel a terrible, horrible loss spreading inside. People didn’t just... disappear like this. At least not Willow...
But then Spike was by her side and she fell into his arms, fighting against tears.
He softly stroked her back, whispering that Willow was a big girl and that there was probably some sort of perfectly logical explanation - like that time when she’d returned to Sunny D and nearly got eaten by that Gnarl demon. And when he came back Buffy could tell him all about it and it’d be a laugh.
“You’re leaving?” she asked, stupidly, even though she could see Illyria almost tapping her foot in the background.
“We’ll be back as soon as we can - promise,” he said, but she knew that it wasn’t a promise he could keep.
And then, only moments later, he too was gone.
As she stood there, suddenly lonely again, she began to realise that she still had an apocalypse to avert... and she’d just lost not just her best friend, but also her strongest weapon in the upcoming battles.
But then she raised her head and saw Kristina and Gemma side by side, watching her, and she took a deep breath and almost smiled.
She wasn’t alone.
Chapter 17 on LJ
Chapter 17 on DW
Can also be found on AO3.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating: Teen. (Same warnings as the show basically.)
Characters: Spike, Angel, Illyria, Buffy, Scoobies + cameos from more or less everyone in the 'verse.
Main Ships: Spike/Buffy, Angel/Nina
Feedback: Is bloody ambrosia! (The secret ingredient is otter...)
Word count (this chapter): 3700 words approx.
Setting and Summary: As before. (Post-NFA epic quest thing.)
Beta: The ever wonderful
kathyhNina was busy trying to locate her homework when the phone rang.
As she called out a good-bye to Jill and Amanda - Jill practically pushing Amanda out the door - Nina held the phone between her ear and shoulder, rifling through the stack of papers on the kitchen counter. Her essay oughtn’t to be there, but it wasn’t anywhere else - and was rather thrown by Angel’s request when her brain finally got round to processing it.
“You want to come visit now? Um... that’s fine, except I have to go to college in 10 minutes-”
She could vividly picture the guilty look on his face as she heard him apologise and say that he’d explain once he was there.
“OK,” she replied, putting the receiver down and dragging a hand through her hair in frustration. The next moment the now familiar bright flash of an opening portal erupted in the middle of the sitting room, and then Angel and Illyria stepped through.
“I will see you tomorrow,” Illyria said to Angel, then walked past Nina as though she didn’t exist, and a few seconds later the front door shut. Fred was obviously not in today.
Angel slowly sat himself down on the sofa, and Nina could tell that something was... off. It had barely been two weeks since he’d left, after a lovely (if somewhat fraught) Christmas, but the look on his face now seemed to belong to a different man. And she could smell the faintest hint of smoke, which was a little confusing.
Before she could ask what the matter was, he shifted, frowning.
“Um...” he sat up and moved the cushion he was leaning against - and pulled out her essay.
“Oh my god. Thank you! I’ve spent half an hour looking for that.”
“My pleasure.”
He smiled at her, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Angel... what’s the matter?”
She sat down next to him, taking his hands, but when he looked up into her eyes she had a horrible sense of deja-vu, and rising anger.
“Oh... you’ve... You’ve come to break up with me, haven’t you?”
He sat very still for a few moments, then slowly said, “I’ve come to be honest - with myself most of all I think. If you feel you still have reason to stay with me afterwards...”
He let the sentence hang as though he didn’t expect the outcome to be positive.
“Angel? I’m sorry but - I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“How many people died here last May?”
The question came out of nowhere and she momentarily faltered. By some silent agreement they never talked about what had caused him to break up with her back then... any of it really. He’d apologised, she’d forgiven him, and they just moved on. What did it mean that he brought it up now?
After a moment’s hesitation she shook her head a little. “I... I’m not sure of the final figure...”
He looked down at their hands and said quietly, “I know you have to go - and I don’t want you to be late because of me. But could I borrow your PC while you’re gone? I need to look this up.”
“Sure,” she replied, somewhat relieved that she had to leave, and swiftly switched on the computer in the dining room.
As he sat down, he looked up at her. “Thank you - I could have done this at the Council, but there were lots of Slayerettes, and Buffy and Spike.... And I needed-”
“It’s OK. You’re always welcome here.” She bent down and kissed him on the cheek, before stowing her essay into her bag. “I have to hand this in, but might blow off the classes later on...”
Then she ran out the door, wondering again what on earth she was doing falling in love with a souled vampire.
When she came back four hours later he was still sitting in front of the screen, reading. Silently she walked up behind him, and without turning his head he answered her unspoken question.
“Found a website with links to obituaries for all the victims.”
“And... you’re reading them?”
He nodded, eyes still fixed on the screen.
“Angel...” Slowly she laid her hand on his shoulder. “Why?”
Finally he turned, and tilted his head, eyes dark. “Because I killed them.”
“But-”
“Nina, look...” Tiredly he rubbed his eyes, then sat forwards, elbows resting on his knees. “I... I’ve killed so very, very many people in my life. When I was evil I did it for pleasure... and I remember them all because I loved to watch them suffer. But this-” he waved towards the PC, “was war; a real war. My war. My chance to accomplish something... and these people were the collateral damage.” He stopped for a moment, eyes distant. “So, facing up to that - the price that innocents have to pay in what I do - I thought that the least I could do is to remember them along with all the rest. Their faces should haunt me also...”
She mulled this over quietly for a moment, feeling strangely hollow inside. Then she asked, “Why now?”
He looked down and suddenly buried his head in his hands.
“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” he mumbled, and she walked around and kneeled down in front of him.
“Do what? Angel, talk to me.”
He looked at her then, sighing deeply. “Do you think the war in Iraq is justified?”
“Um...” She blinked at the unexpected question, and didn’t know what to say. Thankfully he didn’t seem to expect an answer.
“That is what I do - fight a battle where the end must justify the means. It’s tearing me apart, but I can’t stop now... Remember how you told me I was your hero? Am I still?”
She stared at him silently for a moment, at the despair hiding just under the surface, then asked the only relevant questions he could think of.
“Angel… What happened? Where did you go, what did you do?”
(‘Who did you kill?’ was on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped herself.)
When he spoke, the story wasn’t what she’d expected.
“I… destroyed a people’s livelihood. Burned down their village, their food stores, their work… Because they betrayed us. It was vengeance and a warning and a message. The thing is, if I had been evil still, it wouldn’t have been any different - certainly, I’m sure they couldn’t see the difference. I think…”
His voice trailed off, and she waited. Last time it had been rushed, Angel forcing her out of his life ‘for her own good’, with no explanations, just an overbearing ‘I Know Best’ held up as an impenetrable shield. This time she was getting a look below the surface, and she wasn’t about to waste the chance.
“I think that’s it,” he slowly continued. “I spent a hundred years trying to come to terms with the evil I had committed, distancing myself from the monster, and now… The things I do are no different to what I did back then. I do them for different reasons, but that doesn’t matter to those I hurt or kill.”
“It matters to me,” she said softly, and he almost flinched.
“No Nina, you don’t understand. Someone once told me that cruelty's the only thing I ever had a true talent for - and they were right. I hate myself for it, but it comes naturally. And… I can’t pretend otherwise anymore. Darla saw it straightaway - and Dru felt the full force of it. As did Buffy, and Cordy… And Buffy knows, now. What I do, and how. You should see the way she looks at me. You should look at me the same, Nina. I am a weapon, nothing more. I tried - I hoped - or deluded myself that the end justified the means. It doesn’t. But I can’t stop. And I thought you deserved to know.”
She was silent for a long time, trying to understand what he was saying. She knew so little about his past, and had deliberately not gone looking. And had not enquired overly into their current quest - even Buffy was mostly in the dark she knew. He’d come into her life as a hero; not saving her so much as saving her from herself. Showing her that it was possible to live hand-in-hand with the monster inside, that a balance was possible.
So yes, she understood what he was saying. Could she live with herself if she had to let the wolf loose every month? Even if the reason was to accomplish something that would eventually make the world a better place overall?
She had never thought about war in any sort of detail, even if she had friends who had walked in protest marches… War was an abstract, except… One of her grandfather’s had fought in World War II. Had never ever talked about it, but she knew from her grandmother that it had been hell for him.
Slowly she shook her head, a shape of something settling in her mind.
“You are not a weapon, Angel. You are a soldier. Like the one bombing Japan maybe, and I don’t know if that can ever be justified, even if it ended the war. But if… if you can carry on, I can be here for you.”
In response to her words he fell silent for so long that she began to worry. Was this good or bad? His silences were something she had tried to adjust to - random questions could bring them on, and she knew Spike snarked about the ‘brooding’, but she was also loath to gauge their depth, to find out what lay behind the sudden darkness in his eyes. And now… What could he be thinking? Had she said something wrong?
Eventually, he nodded.
“Thank you,” he said solemnly. “I never… I never saw it like that. It doesn’t make it right, but it helps.”
Which was reassuring, if cryptic.
But then he got that look in his eyes again.
“Just one thing. Don’t get me wrong, but... Remember what I told you back then? In May? I will hurt you. Not on purpose, but every single person I’ve ever cared about is worse off because of me. Illyria was right. And sooner or later something will happen to you too, because of me. I know it...”
At this something snapped inside her. Not again! She fixed him with angry eyes, and spoke slowly and carefully, hoping that he’d get the message this time:
“Listen, maybe you will hurt me, maybe you won’t. No one can tell the future, not even you. But what I do know is that everyone gets hurt - that’s part of life. Every time anyone takes a chance on love they also know that they might end up with a broken heart... just ask my sister, who had the divorce from hell. So let me take my chances with the man who is strong enough to face what he’s doing and honest enough to tell me. And who will allow me to make up my own mind. Besides,” she tried to smile, feeling scared and hopeful and nervous, and yet somehow more sure of herself than she had before, even as she spoke a truth she had barely dared to acknowledge to herself: “I think I’m in love with you.”
His face was a picture of stunned surprise as she leaned forwards and kissed him.
Dawn was just breaking over Rome when Angel and Illyria stepped back into The Council. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since they left, and yet Angel felt more at peace than he’d would have thought possible the previous day. Maybe peace wasn’t the right word... gratitude probably came closer. For Nina to accept him - to be there for him - quite simply because she thought he needed it... he wasn’t quite sure what to say or do in response. Again he had been reminded just how different this thing they had was from any other relationship he’d had. He had always felt that their relationship was on borrowed time - adoring her company whilst at the same time keeping in mind that surely, sooner or later, it’d end again. Because that was just how it was with him and women. Now however, he could suddenly see something new, something that might be hope...
Which of course was absurd, even though the fact that she just liked him - not who he had been, who he could be, not who he wanted to be - but just him, was like the most incredible gift, just when he’d finally decided to own up and declare the whole thing over.
Slowly he let his mind run through some of the new names and faces... all his new victims. He’d taken the power of Wolfram & Hart - and yes, he had been blinded by it, because it wasn’t something he’d ever had. He had been in possession of the greatest weapon he’d ever held, and he couldn’t not wield it... but it had cut down so many innocents too. He’d been hiding from that for a long time, focussing on his own loss - his friends, his redemption. And yet if he was honest he’d known all the way back in the alley - back when he’d been on the verge of passing out and realised that the demon hordes were thinning. Where had the rest gone? Well now he knew...
“Spike is late. Again.” Illyria observed, and Angel was torn out of his musings. Sighing, he pulled out his phone and dialled Spike’s number, hoping he wasn’t too far away. They really should be going - and after Wolfram & Hart’s latest trick, they ought to be thinking of new ways too see their girlfriends... despite all the Slayers, he didn’t feel safe.
Thoughts immediately jumping back to yesterday’s conversation, his eye unfocussed as he listened to the phone ring.
A soldier… He wasn’t sure why the word made such a difference, but it did. He had always thought in terms of being a monster or a hero; of being the leader, or - in Illyria’s vocabulary - a king. His battles, his war. But hadn’t he just been doing the work of the Powers That Be all this time? And wasn’t he just the supporting act this time round, with Spike being the Prophecy Boy? He wasn’t quite sure how to make it all fit, he needed time to re-evaluate things, but maybe…
Then Spike finally answered his phone, and Angel didn’t wait for him to speak, immediately asking:
“Are you ready to go then?”
There was a hesitation at the other end of the line, and then a sigh. “Come up to Johnson’s office, yeah?”
Angel could hear the tension in the other’s voice, and a little later he stood in the doorway watching Buffy pacing the floor, phone welded to her ear, and Johnson and two secretaries looking worried. Spike was on a sofa, slowly turning an unlit cigarette over in his hands.
“Are you sure, Xander?” Buffy’s voice was pleading. “Locator spells can be tricky...” she listened for a moment, then pulled a face. “Yes I know that she was the best wicca in the whole coven, but... just get her to try again, OK?”
Seeing them Spike came over and, not taking his eyes off Buffy, quietly said, “Willow’s gone missing.”
“Missing?” Angel asked, frowning. “You mean someone’s kidnapped her?”
Spike shrugged. “Dunno. She was out in the desert all by herself, and now they can’t reach her. Buffy must have got every wicca that The Council knows to do spells to try to find her, but...”
Turning off her cell Buffy looked up at the newcomers, and seeing Illyria her face suddenly changed.
“Hey! She can open portals! You - Madam Hell god - I need to go to the desert. Johnson - please give her the precise co-ordinates while I go get some better shoes and backup.”
Illyria slowly tilted her head, eyes turning dangerous.
“I do not follow orders from lesser beings.”
Buffy walked up to the god and stared straight into her eyes. “My best friend is missing, and you will help me.”
Then she smiled. “Of course if we find her, Willow can probably teleport you back here in case you don’t have enough power...”
“I do not require the help of witches!” Illyria bristled, but Buffy didn’t flinch, just did the patented ‘what-I-say-goes!’ stare. “In which case you shouldn’t mind doing me a favour.”
There was a moment’s silence, then Illyria inclined her head a fraction. “I shall aid your search.”
Angel shook his head in amazement; the time of miracles was clearly not over.
The sun was already burning hot in the sky when Buffy stepped through the portal. Not far off she saw Willow’s little tent and was soon standing next to it, Kristina and Gemma behind her. Slowly she tiptoed around to the entrance, before - heart suddenly beating wildly - she lifted the tent flap and looked inside. But the inside was empty too. Bewildered she looked around, and then asked her two slayers to search for anything that might give them a clue as to what had happened.
A few minutes later they were even more puzzled. There was no sign of struggle or violence, and all of Willow’s things were there - right down to the cellphone that had registered the dozens of missed calls...
Illyria stood around looking bored and impatient, and finally spoke up.
“She was here to find the Beast of the Apocalypse. Maybe it found her - and slew her.”
“But... how? Where?” Buffy looked around, and with a terrible, sinking feeling began wondering how much of the desert she might have to look through to find... No she wouldn’t even think it.
Illyria didn’t move a muscle, and yet appeared to somehow look even more disapproving. “In my original form I swallowed such as her whole. They were but motes, like a fly against my hide.”
Buffy looked at Kristina, who swiftly lowered her eyes. And Buffy suddenly realised how stupid she had been bringing this particular girl - she’d just wanted to bring the best fighters, and not stopped to think about the fact that Kristina’s whole family had been killed by Bringers, and that this was probably very traumatic for her. Catching the girl’s eyes, she softly said:
“Look - I shouldn’t have brought you. I’m sorry.”
Kristina shrugged a little. “It’s all part of the job, isn’t it?”
“It doesn’t have to be...”
There were so many of them now.
“I think it does,” Kristina replied, meeting Buffy’s eyes evenly, and Buffy smiled, grateful for the support and understanding. Sometimes it was hard to remember the terrified, jumpy girl Kristina had been when she first arrived.
Then Buffy’s cell rang and Xander’s voice crackled through.
“Buffy... Mahima has done the spell five times now with a variation of different maps. And they all said the same - Willow... isn’t anywhere.”
Hearing the strain in his voice as he tried to keep it even suddenly made tears burn behind Buffy’s eyes.
“I... I know,” she replied. “I got Illyria to take us to the desert and it’s like... like Willow just went ‘poof’. No sign of a fight or anything. She’s just... vanished. Illyria-” She swallowed, “Illyria thinks that this Beast-thing might have eaten her... or... or something.”
It looked more and more likely that Willow really had bitten off more than she could chew this time. Not that she was reckless the way she had once been, but she had a lot confidence in her powers these days. Too much maybe?
Saying a subdued good-bye, and promising to call as soon as she knew anything, Buffy turned off the phone.
Looking at her fellow slayers she took a deep breath, wishing dearly that she’d thought to bring a hat, because the heat lay on her head like a molten helmet.
“Maybe we should spread out - look around to see if there might be some clues further away...”
Illyria shook her head. “You will not find your friend’s body. I do not sense death in the air...” Slowly she turned, apparently scanning the surroundings.
“There is nothing here. You waste time - I will return to my own quest now.”
And that was that. They collected most of Willow’s things, leaving only the tent and the cell - knowing that if Willow came back she’d be able to make it work by magic... and then they left.
As Buffy stood in Johnson’s office once more, watching the desert and the lonely, empty tent vanish, she could feel a terrible, horrible loss spreading inside. People didn’t just... disappear like this. At least not Willow...
But then Spike was by her side and she fell into his arms, fighting against tears.
He softly stroked her back, whispering that Willow was a big girl and that there was probably some sort of perfectly logical explanation - like that time when she’d returned to Sunny D and nearly got eaten by that Gnarl demon. And when he came back Buffy could tell him all about it and it’d be a laugh.
“You’re leaving?” she asked, stupidly, even though she could see Illyria almost tapping her foot in the background.
“We’ll be back as soon as we can - promise,” he said, but she knew that it wasn’t a promise he could keep.
And then, only moments later, he too was gone.
As she stood there, suddenly lonely again, she began to realise that she still had an apocalypse to avert... and she’d just lost not just her best friend, but also her strongest weapon in the upcoming battles.
But then she raised her head and saw Kristina and Gemma side by side, watching her, and she took a deep breath and almost smiled.
She wasn’t alone.
Chapter 17 on LJ
Chapter 17 on DW
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