| Fan Fiction > Fallen Angel -- Chapter Twelve | by Amara Morrigan |
12/31/2005 |
|
|
Title: Fallen Angel
Pairing: Angel/Wesley
Rating: NC-17
Setting: Part way through season 3, alternate universe type of thing (wherein I would take a different road than Joss...because last I checked, I wasn''''t Joss....)
Disclaimer: If wishes came true, Angel and Wesley would live in my closet, and I would play with them mightily...but alas...they do not
Feedback: gladly accepted...
Summary: Willow arrives in LA with Buffy, which sets Angel back. Wesley explains things to Buffy, and has to deal with the emotional backwash as Buffy and Angel reunite.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The small apartment was crowded, yet silent. Willow Rosenburg sat on the floor in the living room with Wesley’s books and tried to ignore the eyes watching her. The far corner crackled with the energy it was taking to contain the one sister and that pressed into her concentration as well.
She hadn’t expected an audience while she worked, but neither had she expected Angel’s condition or the way he freaked out when he saw her, or the way he came unglued at the sight of Buffy with her. It unnerved her. She’d seen Angel in a lot of ways before, but this was…She shook her head and forced her attention back to the scroll in her hands. Focus.
Buffy Summers didn’t like to be told what to do. That hadn’t changed any with the dying and coming back to life. If anything, it was worse. So, being told she couldn’t see Angel didn’t sit well with her. She was pacing. The afternoon was warm. She walked up and down the balcony outside Wesley’s front door while he stood watching her. At least out her she wouldn’t disturb Willow.
“I only came because Willow said he was hurt.” Buffy said for the fifth or sixth time as she stopped in front of Wesley. “I need to see him.”
“And he needs to see you. Just not right now. He needs time.”
“For what?!” She was exasperated, waving her arms at him.
“If you’re ready to hear, I’ll tell you…but it won’t be easy.” Wesley unfolded his arms. He could feel Angel moving around inside, his emotions trembling between utter panic and forced rationality.
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“Are you?” Wesley cocked his head, trying to determine if she really was ready to hear this.
“Wesley, I don’t have time for this. The hellmouth is waking up. I have a houseful of potential slayers who feel vulnerable and helpless and I’ve left them with Dawn and Xander and, god help me, Andrew and Spike, so I could come here and make sure that Angel is safe…so if you have something to say, say it.”
“Very well. It begins with a spell.”
“Doesn’t it always?”
Wesley smiled and steered her to the wrought iron bench. “This time, it was the Watcher’s Council’s use of the spell.”
For the next hour, Wesley filled her in on the events that had lead to his phone call to Sunnyvale. He spared her nothing, detailing Angel’s physical and mental condition when he’d found him, the venture into Angel’s subconscious, everything except the physical relationship that had developed between Wesley and the vampire. That was something he knew she wasn’t ready for.
“Has your father left for England yet?” She asked after he told her about his involvement.
“Yes, yesterday.” She exhaled slowly and it made him nervous. “Why?”
“We got word that the council was hit, hard. We haven’t heard from Giles, we don’t know who is alive and who isn’t. If your father was still traveling yesterday, he’s probably safe.”
“Hit by whom?” Wesley asked, suddenly more nervous than he had been.
Buffy stood and resumed her pacing. “Agents of the First. They’re seeking out potential slayers and killing them. Giles has been bringing them to me to protect, but…its not good.”
“Oh dear.” Wesley stood and wiped his hands on his pants. “I had presumed that the council was referring to this business with Naan. It never occurred to me that it could be something…bigger.”
“They were getting desperate, and still couldn’t play it straight.” Buffy shook her head. “I should check in with Xander, see how things are at home.” She took her cell phone out of a pocket and Wesley nodded.
“I’ll check on our progress inside.”
Wesley’s first thought was of Angel, who had been a quivering ball of non-responsive vampire when he had left him in the bedroom. He had prepared for Willow, but not Buffy. Wesley had felt the shock, fear, anguish engulf him and had only managed to get to his side before he crumpled. He nodded at Gunn and Fred as he passed into the living room. His eyes found Anna’s for reassurance that they were fine before he moved into the bedroom.
The room was dark, the way Angel preferred it. He wasn’t in the bed, or the familiar corner. He was in the room, Wesley could feel him. “Angel.” He said it softly, scarcely a whisper, and still felt Angel jump. He was in the dark corner nearest the closet.
Wesley crossed to him gently, holding out his hand for Angel to come to him. A long moment passed in which he didn’t think Angel would come, then he felt the cool fingers slowly grasping his. They moved to the bed and Wesley wrapped his arms around his friend, his lover.
“Angel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
”I know.” Wesley could feel him trying to find his strength and it made him smile. “I’m sorry. I kept seeing her…what I did to her…She-she—“
Angel shuddered against Wesley. “She’s fine, and she understands. She won’t barge in on you again. She’ll wait for you.” Wesley’s nimble fingers caressed Angel’s face. It was cool to the touch, damp with tears. “Are you hungry?”
Angel shook his head and sat up. “I couldn’t…not right now.” He crossed his arms, which pulled the loose shirt tight over his chest, showing how thin he really was. It still made Wesley uneasy, the sight of the once powerful vampire wasted away. “How is…Willow doing?”
Wesley smiled and stood. “I don’t know. I should check in on her. You rest.”
Angel nodded, though he didn’t show any signs of actually laying down. Wesley closed the door behind him, and found the eyes of nearly everyone in the room on him. “He’s resting,” he said finally, after a long silence. Buffy, by the door, looked relieved and sank down into the chair nearest her.
Wesley moved to squat beside Willow. “Any luck?”
“Some.” She shifted uncomfortably. “This isn’t going to be easy.”
“It never is.” Wesley sighed. He was tired, and it was beginning to show.
“In order to re-bind them, we have to completely sever the connection they have now.” Willow said, leaning back to stretch her neck.
“We can’t, we’ll have no control over Naan.”
“I know. I said it wouldn’t be easy.”
Wesley looked over to the three sisters. Behind their protective barrier they couldn’t hear much of what the others said, but Anna’s eyes were on him. “Then what?”
“Big magic, bind them together…if we’re lucky.” She held up the scroll. “This spell is incredible. We can’t duplicate it, not exactly. Some of the things they used no longer exist. The talisman was one of a kind…nothing we have today is strong enough to hold all three.”
“So what do you suggest?”
Willow’s eyes sparkled with knowledge and an excitement Wesley himself had once known when working on mystical problems that stretched his knowledge. “We bind them into one person, into Anan. She is the glue that holds them together.”
“And then what?”
“One thing at a time, Wesley. We eliminate the threat first.”
Wesley nodded. “Do you have everything you need?”
She shook her head. “Not even close. I have a list.” She handed a piece of paper to Wesley.
His eyes skimmed the list, mentally picking out the shops and contacts needed to fill the list. “Gunn, you and Fred go get this stuff. You should be able to get most of it nearby. The rest you’ll need to go to Garish’s place. He should be able to point you in the right direction.”
“Got it.” Gunn helped Fred up off the couch and reached for the list. “Any special instructions?” he asked Willow who was getting up from the floor.
“Yeah, don’t let the herbs mix, or you’ll have a really big mess. And, make sure you get a Philean’s crystal, not any other kind. It should have a blue-ish center.”
“Got it. Be back as fast as we can.”
Wesley nodded absently, then rose to collapse onto the couch where Gunn and Fred had been. Willow looked at him with concern, and stepped closer. “You okay, Wesley?”
“Just tired, I’m afraid. I haven’t slept much since finding Angel.”
“Buffy and I can keep an eye on things, if you want to sleep.”
“Thank you, Willow. I may just do that.” He lay down on the couch. “You might want to try talking to Anna, to explain what you’re going to do.”
“I will.” She smiled for him, a pretty smile that tried to convey confidence and joy, but Wesley saw through it to her fear…not just for the spell, but for herself and her ability to handle the magic. He smiled back, hoping it helped. Then his eyes slid closed and he slept.
Willow stood, uncertain now that it was essentially just her and Buffy. “Now what?” Buffy asked, meeting her in the middle of the room.
“We wait.” Willow shook her head.
“Are you worried?”
She nodded. She didn’t trust herself to say what she was feeling, just turned away, looking at Anna who was watching them from inside the energy barrier. Buffy didn’t need the words, and wrapped her arms around her friend. “I believe in you,” she whispered. It was just enough to chase the tears away. Willow squeezed her hand in thanks, then stepped away to start the preparations and talk to Anna.
Buffy busied herself with cleaning up the stacks of books and parchment, trying not to keep looking at the bedroom door. It seemed so quiet. It reminded her how Angel used to be able to sneak up on her, even when no one else could. She missed that strength, knowing he was there, ready to catch her. Despite everything, if he were gone, her world was empty. Being this close and not able to talk to him, touch him…was maddening…even if their last words had been angry ones,…even if there were someone else in her life….Angel would always be a part of her.
“Buffy?”
It was almost inaudible, but her head turned. Angel leaned against the doorway. He wouldn’t look at her. She stood. One step, two…then she stopped. “Angel?”
His head turned toward her, but she couldn’t see his eyes. Maybe they were closed. She tried another step. He flinched, but didn’t leave the door. Another step, and she was within arm’s reach. “Angel?” she tried again. She was close enough now for a better look. What she saw shook her.
He held to the door jamb with one hand, and it seemed the only thing that was holding him upright. His shirt hung off of him, where once it would have draped perfectly over arm and chest muscles. His face was gaunt and white, except the dark shadows under his eyes and in his cheeks. Closing her eyes, Buffy stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him and laying her cheek on his chest. After a moment, she felt his arms wrap around her too.
Slowly, he lowered his head until it was on her shoulder, and she could feel great sobs shaking him. Her eyes found Willow’s, then she slowly maneuvered Angel back into the room, closing the door so that they could be alone.
For a long time, Angel simply clung to her, crying silently into her shoulder. Buffy let him, holding him and feeling small and weak. Angel was her strength, and she felt strangely alone. Slowly he let go of her, moved away. He sank onto the bed and avoided looking at her. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m trying to—Wesley told you?”
“A little.” She was going to sit beside him, but saw him stiffen and chose the floor in front of him instead. “I know that you think you killed us.”
“If I had only killed you.” Angel whispered, shaking his head. “I can see it every time I close my eyes. I know it isn’t real, but some part of me…I didn’t just kill, Buffy.”
She set one hand on his knee, trying to find a way past the fear. This was not her strong suit. She wasn’t sure what to say or do. “I wasn’t Angelus. I was me, and I chose to do things…I think its worse because I actually did some of them. I tortured Wesley…I—“
He touched her hand where it rested on his leg. “Before she took me, I tortured Wesley, threatened Cordelia. I slept with Darla. Must have made it easier for her. She made me believe—“
“Wait, you slept with Darla?” Buffy pulled her hand away and stood up. “How is that even possible?”
Angel looked up at her. “Wolfram and Hart, brought her back.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know.” Angel hung his head while she paced. “I told you, I—I—Wesley says it was some sort of spell.”
Buffy turned to look at him, her eyes squinting. “Where is she now?”
“Dead. Wesley says she sacrificed herself.”
“Wait, we’re talking about Darla here, right?”
“I think it’s a long story. I don’t have all the details. I only know what Wes has said about Connor.”
“Who’s Connor?”
“My son.” Angel closed his eyes and shook his head. “It makes no sense, I know that. But Wesley says—“
“Son? Vampires don’t have sons.” Buffy was back in front of him, her eyes searching for his. “I die for a little while and the whole world goes wacky.”
He winced and reached for her hand. “You were dead, when I went away.” Her skin was warm and he held it to his face. “You were dead, and I was alone…until Wesley—found me.” He was quiet, his eyes closed as he listened the blood rushing through the veins in her wrist. “In the delusion you weren’t dead. After I killed Fred and Gunn and Cordelia, I called you, asked you to come here. I made Wesley watch as I—turned you…and we watched you kill Dawn…together we tortured Giles and Willow…” His voice choked and he stopped for a long moment. “You begged me to…die…before I…”
Buffy stared down at him, her mind conjuring images to match his words. Her stomach twisted around inside her. His tears made it worse. He moved until his head was against her stomach, his arms sliding around to hold her as if it held him in the room. Her hands seemed to move of their own accord, rising to sooth his hair. “It never happened, Angel. I’m here, Willow is here.”
He stifled a sob and held her tighter. “Just stay with me for a while,” he said, his words slightly muffled. “I need to feel you.”
Buffy kissed the top of his head and he looked up. He seemed so lost, so…broken. She kissed him, softly at first, then with more urgency. He clutched at her, pulling her into him as he kissed her back. She could feel his need for touch, as if each warm finger on his skin brought redemption.
Wesley pretended to sleep, but he could feel Angel’s anguish and the comfort he derived from Buffy’s touch, her kiss. It hurt to know that she could still make Angel feel…Wesley knew she would, could…but to feel it like this…He turned to face the back of the couch, turning his back to the bedroom door, to the emotions he could feel wafting off Angel.
Buffy would always be a part of Angel, Wesley had accepted that long before he and Angel had ever, well before they had ever even entertained the idea of being together. Still, he felt a small swell of satisfaction when the bedroom door opened and Buffy emerged. Angel paced behind the wall, Wesley could feel him. He was stronger for having talked to Buffy, and stronger was good. Buffy, on the other hand seemed shaken.
“I’m gonna get some air,” he heard her say to Willow, then she was gone out the front door. Wesley felt Angel reach out for him, and let his thoughts caress him gently before he settled into the sleep he so desperately needed. |
|
|
