disclaimers in part one
PART SEVEN
Willow's motel room
August 21, 1998
Opening the bathroom door carefully Buffy glanced into the room, when Willow
didn't turn she quietly slipped past the door and stood there. Watching Willow
set the table, marvelling at how normal her actions were. Four plates, four
knives, four of everything. It was all so neat, so ordered, so different
from the reality they lived in. From the chaos she had subjected them all
to. She lingered in the doorway, grateful to be in the room with Willow,
without seeing the worry in Willow's eyes, worry that appeared whenever Willow
looked at her. The same worry she could see in all of their faces. They tried
so hard to cover it, but that only made it worse. She could see it in their
eyes, in the stiffness of their movements. They were watching everything
she did so carefully, making her afraid she would take a misstep. Every word,
every expression had to be so carefully thought out, its effect on them
considered. She had damaged them enough, she wouldn't add any more.
Smiling slightly she leaned against the door frame and listened to Willow
hum under her breath as she set everything in its place. Plates neatly set,
forks on one side, knives on the other, napkins neatly folded. Willow checked
her watch and then begin placing the food in the middle of the table. From
the amount she set Buffy assumed Giles and Oz would soon be returning. Buffy
held her breath then expelled it softly. Almost time to face them again.
She leaned against the doorframe
wanting to take these last few minutes to observe Willow. Knowing that as
soon as Willow noticed her everything would change. The frown would appear
on Willow's brow. Her eyes would cover with worry, shoulders would slump.
Her stomach rolling she wondered what she had done to them.
Watching the sunlight catch on Willow's hair she questioned why Willow still
seemed so innocent, so undamaged by everything that had happened. When she
had been at her darkest point, when the pain of what she had done had been
unbearable she had reached out to Willow. Knowing even then, in her darkest
moments, that Willow would find her, that Willow would help her, with no
expectations or blame. Closing her eyes and feeling her own rage boiling
inside her she wished she could be that noble. It was all too easy for her
to place blame, to rage against the world. As she finished setting out the
dishes Willow turned and saw her standing in the doorway. Watching the anxiety
reappear on her face, Buffy wondered if she had been wrong. Maybe Willow
was the least innocent of them. Maybe she accepted the bad things so much
better because she expected them.
Stepping into the room she fixed her smile in place, needing to take the
look of fear off Willow's face. For a moment a slight tinge of anger ran
through her. She was so grateful to them for coming for her, for helping
her find her feet, but at the same time she felt their rush, their need for
her to be the slayer again. They wanted her to just get over it. Thinking
they could tell her what she did was okay and she would be fine. Walking
over to the table she realized they just didn't understand. They had no idea
of the nightmare she had been living these last few months. The black hole
she had fallen in to. And in some ways they didn't want to know. They needed
her to be the strong one, the one who led them. Sitting down in one of the
chairs she poured herself a cup of coffee. Realizing she didn't have any
right to burden them any more with her guilt and regrets. They had helped
her climb out of the black hole she had been living in, now it would be up
to her. Willow was
staring at her, waiting for something, looking scared. Buffy mentally checked
herself, clothes were on, smile was in place, hair brushed.
Smiling brightly at Willow, she spoke. "Talking, we should be talking.
Sorry, I haven't talked to many people in the last few months. I guess
I'm out of practice."
Picking up a piece of toast, she eyed the room, she had been to out of it
last night to notice anything about her surroundings. It was just like every
low cost motel room she had stayed in, but at least it was clean. She toyed
with the toast, breaking in into small pieces and laying it on her plate.
Willow fluttered around her, pouring her some juice, smiling brightly. But
her movements were rushed, her shoulders tense. She watched Willow open her
mouth to speak then close it. Her face betraying her nervousness, as she
kept glancing at the pieces of toast Buffy had put on her plate. Noticing
Willow's agitation she forced the toast down her throat not wanting to upset
her any more. Suddenly tired, she wondered, was this how it was going to
be. Everyone watching to see if she was okay. Poor Buffy, she sent her boyfriend
to hell, isn't that sad. But she wasn't okay the voice in her head was screaming.
She could never be okay again. The part of her that was okay had gone
into the vortex with Angel. Now she just had a gaping hole inside her. Realizing
her hands were clenching the side of the table she let go. Not wanting to
worry Willow any more than she already had. Opening her mouth she tried to
speak, tried to think of something to say that would make sense.
"I want to go home." She sat, as stunned as Willow looked, at the words that
had come from her mouth. Did she really want to go back? To her mother, school,
the law? And Angel, the memories would be so strong there. Taking a deep
breath she waited for Willow's response.
"Home?" Willow looked stunned, stepping backwards, her look quickly changing
to fear. She tried unsuccessfully to cover it with a fake smile.
"Yes, Sunnydale, the Hellmouth, remember?" Leaning forward in her chair,
she felt her body tense. Willow's reaction was not right. Her stomach clenched,
what terrible thing had happened while she had been gone. How many new deaths
were her responsibility? Feeling the darkness beckoning her she pushed it
back. No more running, she had to face this head on.
But Willow wasn't answering her, instead she was checking the plates, fiddling
with the utensils. Sighing Buffy stood and walked over to her, tried to look
into her eyes. Willow immediately broke the eye contact, dropping the spoon
she had been holding. Willow tried unsuccessfully to smile at her, failing
she turned and scurried away, knocking over a chair in her hurry to escape.
Mumbling something about seeing what was holding up Giles and Oz she rushed
from the room.
Buffy watched her retreat with a sinking feeling, staring at the door Willow
had escaped through. Fighting down her own urge to escape, to run out the
door and never look back. The time for running had passed so she sat back
down at the table. Picking up a fork she played with a plate of scrambled
eggs that Willow had set out. Concentrating on remaining calm, on remaining
in the moment she wondered what horrible thing had happened in her absence.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, the word echoed through her mind. What had she been
thinking? She hadn't been, that was her problem. It always was her problem.
Letting the fork drop on the plate she stood, unable to be still. Pacing
around the room she berated herself. What had she caused this time? She laughed,
the sound bitter and hollow in the empty room, had she really thought killing
a few vampires in LA would make everything okay in Sunnydale. Would she ever
get this right? It wasn't about her, it never was. It was duty, her duty.
Her duty to guard the Hellmouth. Her duty to kill Angel as soon as he had
lost his soul. But no, she had wanted Angel back. And she had wanted to lose
herself in the pain of betraying him. Feeling the tears coming she fought
them back. Pacing rapidly around the room, a lioness in a cage, she fought
to block her emotions. The time for self-pity was over. She had made her
choices, now she would live with them.
Hearing the doorknob turn she spun around to face them. Plastering a calm
face back on she smiled at them as they entered the room. Giles looked
dishevelled as if he had dressed rapidly and his hair was dripping still.
Willow looked, if anything, more nervous than before. Oz stood beside Willow,
his hand on her arm. Giles cleared his throat, moving closer to where she
stood. Her mind raced she waited for someone to speak. No one did, Willow
and Giles just kept looking at each other,
then back at her. Realizing she would have to start the conversation, she
wished, just once, that they didn't need her to be the leader.
"What is it?" She stared at their faces, seeing no sadness. Wondering why,
she hoped that meant that no one had actually died.
Giles began, stumbling over his words, "Um...Well...Um, you see..."
Breaking in, unable to deal with his hesitation she directed her question
to Willow. "What? Am I still wanted for murder?"
Willow looked shocked, "No, No. Of course not."
"Then...what?" Taking a deep breath to calm the anger she felt rising. Her
hands clenched at her sides. Did they really think hesitating would make
their news better?"
"Buffy..." Willow looked at her, her eyes pleading for patience. Reaching
out she grabbed Buffy's hands and held them tightly. Her face was a mixture
of pity and fear.
Buffy felt her stomach roll, the toast sitting heavily, "My mother."
Pausing to take a deep breath she whispered, "She doesn't want me back?"
"God, no. Buffy..." Willow said, upset that she hadn't told her about her
mother earlier. "I...We talked to your mother. She...She, well she believes
now. She wants you home. She misses you. She is so sorry for what happened
between you."
"She was just being a mom. A clueless mom, but then again, how many mothers
get to see their daughter turn someone to dust right in front of them? She
must be so proud." Her bitterness seeped through her words. Collecting
herself she smiled at them, letting them think her sense of humor was returning.
Suddenly a thought occurred to her. Smiling at them she was sure she knew
what had them so upset. She pulled her hands away from Willow and walked
away from them, back to the table. Throwing the words over her shoulder as
she walked away.
"Oh. The thing where I was expelled. No biggie. Herr Synder already shared
that news with me." Picking up her coffee she took a sip. And another, when
she still got no response she turned back to them. They were still just standing
there, Willow standing so close to Oz, Giles rocking back and forth. The
same expressions on their face. Her shoulders tensed again. She wanted to
yell at them to just say it. Nothing could be that bad. She had sent her
boyfriend to hell, what could top that.
Looking at the floor Giles began again, "No. It's not that. We...We can deal
with that at some o-other time. We..."
Willow watched Giles, unable to take the tension any longer. Interrupting
him she spoke the words quickly.
"Xander knew." Her voice held just the slightest touch of hysteria.
Buffy looked at her, feeling the floor ripping away underneath her feet once
more. Fighting to keep her face calm she stalled for time. Please don't let
it have anything to do with what she had done. Please don't let it have anything
to do with Angel.
"Knew what?" Taking a deep breath, trying to slow her suddenly racing pulse.
Please no, please no, kept running through her head like a prayer.
"Everything." Willow's voice broke. Looking straight at Buffy she began to
cry, the tears running silently down her face. Buffy felt her heart stop,
then resume. She walked closer to Willow, reaching out, softly brushing the
tears away. Concentrating on keeping her voice even she spoke.
"About?" Trying to give herself more time until she had to respond. Xander
had known, when she saw him, he had known. She didn't want to know this.
She wanted to scream at them to stop. Beg them to keep this secret from her.
"About the curse. About what I was doing." The words tumbled out of Willows
mouth as she leaned against Oz for support. "I sent him to tell you. So you
could stall. He didn't. I'm sorry." Willow was sobbing now, her face buried
into Oz's shoulder.
Buffy stood there, thinking she should feel something, anything. There was
nothing there. The black hole begged her to come, but she just stood there
frozen. She swallowed, felt a tic begin in her jaw muscle. She couldn't respond
to what they had said. Stepping away she distanced herself from them. She
wandered slowly around the room. The anger she felt towards Xander pulsed
through her, but it wasn't real. It settled into the hole left inside her
when Angel had been taken to hell. She knew they were watching her, so she
walked over by the bed. Turning to face them she sat down. Not knowing what
response they wanted from here she began, "Oh."
"Are you...are you okay? Aren't you mad?" Willow's face was puzzled. Giles
just stood there, rocking back and forth, his face a mask of pity.
Looking at her and then to Giles she spoke, "Mad? Why?" Realizing that although
the words she would speak may be true she didn't believe them. She was somewhere
beyond mad. Feeling every emotion she had ever held for Xander crystallizing
into hatred. Using that hatred to cover the wound left in her soul. Used
it to hold the rest of her emotions in check. A small part of her mind rebelled,
knowing that all anger and hatred directed at Xander was really hers. She
deserved this. She pushed the voice away. Closing her eyes she let Xander's
betrayal wash over her. Wondering if this was what Angel felt when she betrayed
him. Wondering why she was so surprised at Xander's actions. Betrayer, now
the betrayed, it was only fair. Xander's actions only served to magnify the
horror of her betrayal of Angel. Nothing felt real, the new pain added to
the old was just too much. She just felt cold, empty, dead. Knowing they
were waiting for her words she spoke them.
"What's that saying?" Pausing, she took a breath and continued. "What goes
around, comes around." Her voice felt heavy, the effort it took to speak
almost too much. "I betrayed, I was betrayed. Isn't that how it's supposed
to go?" Her head swam with visions of Xander telling her, of a reality in
which she hadn't sent Angel to hell. Putting her hands to her face to block
the visions she continued, "I betrayed Angel. Xander betrayed me. It's fair,
don't you think?" Looking up to see Giles and Willow watching her with worried
expressions. She smiled, hiding her pain, needing them to let this subject
die. She carefully got up from the bed, afraid her numbness would slip and
she would begin screaming again. She headed towards the bathroom, finishing
her speech as she walked, "I guess in a way Xander betrayed Angel too. Funny,
we have something in common." Reaching the bathroom she grabbed the door
handle, telling herself that she could do this, she just needed to be alone
for a minute. She shut the door behind her, leaving them watching her speechless.
Leaning back against the door she breathed deeply for a minute, feeling as
though she had just successfully walked through a minefield.
Leaning against the door, she could hear them discussing her. Giles telling
Willow that she was just in denial, that eventually the anger would come.
She snorted, almost laughed at the thought. She wasn't denying anything.
She knew exactly what Xander did, exactly how much his decision had cost
her. She just couldn't afford to let it matter. She had made the mistake
of following her emotions one too many times. She was the slayer. That was
her only priority now. Hurting Xander wouldn't
bring Angel back, nothing could. Walking to the sink she splashed cold water
on her face, practicing her smile as she looked into the mirror. She dried
her face, hands and turned to leave the bathroom, hesitating for a moment
as her hand grabbed the handle. Making sure she felt numb enough she opened
the door and walked confidently into the room.
She calmly asked them if they were ready to head back yet, when they said
they were she relaxed a little. She would be back on guard at the Hellmouth
soon. She began questioning Willow about her summer, Oz about his band. She
even asked Giles if he had gotten any new books lately and listened to his
answer. Determined not to let them see what this cost
her. They wanted the old Buffy back, and she was determined to give her to
them. She ignored the funny looks they gave her and the hesitation in their
words until they finally relaxed and believed her. She continued the conversation
as they checked out of the motel, barely giving them any time for thought.
She couldn't take the chance they would try to bring up Angel. Or Xander.
She needed time, the cover she had put on her emotions would only hold for
so long. She wanted to be alone when she finally broke, she owed them that.
They had done enough for her already. Walking to the van she even joked with
Giles about his choice of rentals. Talking with Oz about his plans for the
next year got her twenty miles away from Los Angeles. The look in his eyes
telling her he understood what she was doing. Turning she spoke to Giles
about getting started training again. He glanced over at her, his expression
taunt, then relaxed. He would give her time. Making plans to get started
soon, she wanted to be in top form when the next new evil settled in Sunnydale.
Talking about different fighting techniques and new weapons she wanted to
work got them almost all the way to Sunnydale. To Willow,
she asked her about her computer stuff, nodding at her answers, only half
listening. Ignoring the mute plea on Willow's face, to say more, to tell
her what she was feeling, to talk about Xander's actions. Unable to answer
it she turned away. Feeling her heart beat louder in her ears as they drove
closer to Sunnydale.
She managed to keep the conversation going until they reached the Sunnydale
city limits, her voice fading away as they passed the welcome sign at the
edge of town. Her stomach churned, she was back, surrounded again by memories
of Angel, back in the place were she had betrayed him. Her heart began to
race as the memory of what she had done began to play in her head. She stared
straight ahead, refusing to even blink her eyes. Her fingers tapped continually
on the dashboard. Counting the taps she let the sound and the numbers fill
her mind until the panic faded away along with the memories. A bitter smile
flitted across her face then was quickly hidden. Smiling bravely for the
benefit of the other occupants of the van she counted the seconds until she
was home, away from their eyes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
PART EIGHT
Sunnydale High School Library
August 21, 1998
"So, you've got it all. Everything? Cause if we miss anything." Xander spoke
in a voice that was one step away from going over the edge. "Well,
we can't miss anything." Moving erratically around the library, he was stuffing
books haphazardly into his bag. Not checking to see if they were books they
needed, just tossing them in. Obviously subscribing to the notion that more
is always better.
"Xander." Cordelia stopped packing her bag and stared at him, understanding
his behavior was due to the night ahead. She really couldn't fault him for
being nervous, but unable to stop herself from speaking, "Relax, I've got
everything." She supposed you couldn't relax too much when you knew you were
going to hell later that day. To save someone you considered a killer. When
she looked at things in that light, she was amazed he was keeping it that
together. He had even
managed to wear clothes that almost matched, studying him she realized that
was probably another sign of his anxiety.
"Relax?" His voice swung high, then cracked. He stared at her like she had
suddenly grown another head. "I'm going to hell in less than three hours!"
Throwing the book he was holding on the table and falling into one of the
chairs. "Re_lax_!?"
Cordelia watched him, relieved he had finally said the words. He had been
so busy last night talking about anything but the day ahead. She had tried
a few times to discuss it but he had always changed the subject. Looking
at him sitting there, so nervous she thought he would explode, she carefully
began speaking the thought that kept running through her mind. "Don't go.
" Swallowing down her nervousness she continued, "Giles said Buffy would
be okay. Whistler even said he thought it would be Buffy who went. Why not
wait?"
She watched him digest her words, knowing from the look of disgust that was
appearing on his face that he wasn't going to go for it. She could see him
thinking about her words, discounting them. Because she was Cordelia, they
were probably wrong. She didn't know what else she could do to prove to him
that she wasn't the same person she had been. She barely remembered who that
person was. He was such a big part of the reason she had changed so much,
and she had finally thought he was noticing. Swallowing the sudden rush of
bitterness in her throat, she spoke again.
"Don't look at me like I'm being selfish. It's not selfish to not want your
boyfriend to go to hell. It's just sane. You are not Buffy, you don't do
things like this." She watched him, her eyes pleading with him to understand.
To stop this here, but knowing he wouldn't. She watched him drum his fingers
on the table, his body unable to be still. She forced her shoulders to relax,
her lips to smile at him. She had known this wouldn't work, but she had to
try it. If he felt he had to do this, she would support him. She would walk
with him to the edge of hell. If he had to do this. Her voice trembling slightly
she finished, "But if you have to, I won't try to stop you again."
He was silent for a moment, his eyes suddenly fascinated by the far wall.
She watched the pulse in his neck throbbing and held herself back from begging
him not to do it. He looked at her finally, trademark Xander grin in place,
standing up he reached for her, "Think of it less like sending your boyfriend
to hell and more like helping your boyfriend free yet another demon loose
to roam on this planet."
Shaking her head at him, knowing he wanted her to go along with him. Pretend
that this was no big deal. Summoning her courage, needing to help him through
this, she answered, "Do you plan on being this witty with the devil?"
He looked at her, his face shocked, "The devil?" Dropping her hands he began
pacing around the room, stopping only to look at her with disbelief, "The
devil?" Breaking eye contact, he continued his almost spastic movements around
the library. Pausing he stared at her again, his face questioning. "Do you
think there really is a devil? The big badness. Head of all that is undead
and generally nasty things?" His voice getting louder with every word. Looking
around the room wildly he started pacing again. She watched him, trying
desperately to think of something to say. Unable to she just stood there,
waiting. Finally he came to a halt beside a chair, grimacing then smiled
weakly at her. "I was thinking more along the lines of...well, some fires...
a few tortured souls. But that's as far as I got. The devil?" Throwing himself
into a chair he put his hands to his head, "What am I doing? I'm a coward,
I have to remember that."
Slumping back in the chair he looked at her, a mixture of bravado and fear
on his face. Her heart aching for him she walked over and slipped into his
lap. He wrapped his arms around her and held on tightly. She leaned into
him, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. Trying not to think of the
possibility she might not feel it again. She felt his muscles relaxing as
he held her. She smiled, grateful she could be of some help to him. Wondering
how she had gotten to this point, were he meant so much to her. When the
thought of a future without him had become so abhorrent to her. She leaned
against him, enjoying the feel of the afternoon sun streaming in through
the window. He began kissing her neck and she moved her head, allowing him
better access. Putting his hands on her shoulders he pulled her around until
her upper body was facing his. The look on his face was intense, a young
man headed off to war, not knowing if he would return. He cupped his hands
softly on her face, and pulling her in began to kiss her, softly at first
then harder. He kissed her with an intensity that took her breath away, her
thoughts away. She kissed him back with the same fervor. A kiss between two
people scared they may never kiss again. Finally breaking the kiss she ran
her hand over his face, memorizing the feel of his skin under her hand. "Xander?"
"Um."
She spoke softly, not wanting to upset the fragile calm that had settled
over them. "If you can't do it? If it's too hard or too scary...come back.
Don't try to be a hero? Please? Promise me that?" Her voice broke on the
last word but she held back her tears. Her eyes pleading with him.
He smiled softly at her, leaned forward and kissed her nose. Brushing her
hair away from her face he spoke, "Promise. Cordie, I'm coming back." He
paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "And I'll have Angel with me."
His eyes were less afraid now, more determined, the soldier from Halloween
coming to the front.
Running her fingers through his hair she smiled bravely at him. Refusing
to let him see the worry she was feeling. She could feel his body tightening
under her as the reality of what he was doing settled in on him once more.
Leaning her head against his shoulder she closed her eyes, taking a moment
to memorize this feeling. Her head on his shoulder she looked up at the ceiling,
trying to stop the next words out of her mouth. She knew they were selfish,
unimportant, but she needed to know. Needed to prepare for every possibility.
Speaking to the ceiling she started, "Why?"
Feeling him stiffen at her words she refused to look at him. She stared at
the ceiling as if it held the answers she was looking for. She could feel
his hesitation, knew exactly the expression on his face without looking.
The patented Xander mixture of guilt and fear. She felt him take a deep breath
finally and speak, "Why what?"
Smiling at his attempt to stall she spoke the words quickly before her courage
ran out at what his answer may be. " Why risk it? Why not wait for Buffy?
Why would you go to hell for her, to save her boyfriend? Is it because you
are still in love with her?" She marvelled at how casual her voice sounded,
how calm. As if his answer couldn't destroy her. Counting the holes
in the ceiling tiles to pass the time she waited.
"No. I love her, I'm not in love with her." Xander's voice was clear.
Letting out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, she turned to
face him waiting for him to continue. His eyes held hers, begging her to
believe his words. She touched his face, wrinkling her nose at him. Rewarded
with his smile, he began to explain. " I owe this to her. She is the slayer.
She has saved us, saved the world. Now she needs something that I can give
her." He paused, taking a deep breath his eyes filled with regret, "Maybe
something I took from her. "
Her eyes misted at the pain and guilt in his words. Wanting to help him she
slid off his lap and turning, knelt in front of him. Her hands holding his
she spoke, "You did what you thought was right. You didn't do it to hurt
her." Her voice was strong, the tone almost angry. She didn't wanting him
running into hell on some suicide mission because he felt he had failed Buffy.
"Does that matter though?" His voice sounded so young, so broken. Looking
at him, at the lines on his face, the dark circles under his eyes she realized
how important this was to him. He looked at her, shoulders slumped, his face
wreathed in misery, "Willow risked her life to do the curse. I decided that
didn't count. Willow is my best friend and I let her risk her life for nothing."
His voice faded as he spoke. His fingers were digging into her palm. She
didn't move, didn't speak, just waited for him to continue.
"I did it because I lost faith in her. That's what I tell myself." He spoke
in a voice laced with disgust. She tensed, knowing it was directed at himself.
"But did I really lose faith? I'm not sure any more. It doesn't matter though.
The result is what matters." Squeezing her hands he let them go, his eyes
determined again. "I have to do this."
She let him go, realizing, maybe even more than he did, how important this
was to him. Understanding that for him the pain of losing both Willow and
Buffy was too much for him. She stood offered her hand to pull him to his
feet. Standing he put his arms around her and rested his head against her
neck. She buried her face on his shoulder, vowing to herself that she would
make Willow and Buffy understand. If he failed she would do whatever it took
for them to forgive him. Feeling a surge of protectiveness run through her
she held on tighter, not wanting to ever let him go. Sighing, she pulled
back looking into his face. Leaning into him she began to kiss his face slowly.
His forehead, eyebrows, eyelids. Each kiss a promise that things would be
okay. That she would make sure of it. He stood quietly, letting her kiss
him without responding. She kissed his nose, cheeks, chin. Then she brushed
lightly over his lips, a tiny whisper. He came alive then, his mouth searching
hers, almost violently. She returned the kiss in the same fashion, understanding
his need for the intimacy. They remained wrapped
in each other, neither hearing the door open or the sound of Giles feet as
he walked into the library.
"Ah-hem."
They jumped apart guiltily, letting go of each other and turning to him.
Standing closely together arms at their sides. Giles glanced at them,
then down at the table and all the books they had covering it. He looked
to them, gestured at the table, waiting for an explanation. She felt Xander
tensing beside her, so she spoke first, thinking he would want to know, but
would be afraid to ask.
"How's Buffy?" Praying that it was good news, she was afraid of Xander's
reaction if they hadn't been able to help her.
Giles looked at the table for a second longer, then letting it go for the
moment, "Good. She's fragile, but I think in time...she will learn to deal
with this." He hesitated then continued, his demeanor conveying his discomfort
with his words. "X-Xander, m...maybe you should stay away from her for a
while."
Xander nodded at him, grabbing Cordelia's hand. She squeezed it, trying to
support him through her fingers. Feeling helpless to make this any easier
for him. She waited for Xander to begin to speak, to tell Giles of their
plans. When he didn't seem to do anything she opened her mouth, beginning
to tell Giles, Xander's body swung around and he glared at her, his eyes
telling her to keep quiet. Grabbing their bags he took her by the arm, speaking
to Giles for the first time, "Right. Of course. We'll go now. Bye."
He dragged her from the library leaving Giles watching them. Once they got
outside Cordelia pulled her arm free, glaring at him. "Why didn't you tell
him. That was our deal. He can help us."
Glancing back towards the library he spoke angrily, "Really? Help me? Help
me go to hell to save Angel. assisted, might I add, by another demon that
we know nothing about. He'd never go for it."
She looked at him, seeing the new hurt on his face from Giles words. She
pleaded with him, "But..."
"It's done." His voice was remote, she could feel him pulling away from her
again. She shuddered, feeling suddenly chilled in spite of the afternoon
sun. He continued speaking, his voice dead, "We do it tonight. If I can't
get Angel, well nobody even has to know I tried. I'll tell Giles then, only
then."
She stood there for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Should she go
back inside and tell Giles herself, or should she honor Xander's wish. Not
knowing what to do she just stood there, looking at him. He didn't move,
didn't change his facial expression, nothing that would help her decide.
She pictured Giles, the library, how they had always depended on him to come
up with the right answers. Her mind caught, rewound, Realizing that there
should be enough information on the table for Giles to figure out what they
were doing. She relaxed, putting her faith in Giles that he would figure
it out in time and make sure everything turned out okay. Trying to hide her
thoughts from Xander she looked at the ground, answering him, "Okay."
They walked slowly down the road, away from the library. Wandering towards
the park, they found a bench and sat down. Arms wrapped around each other,
unable to speak any more. They waited as the afternoon faded away.
CONTINUE