"All lovers young, all lovers must
consign to thee, and come to dust."
-- Shakespear, Cymberline
Willow, Giles, and Xander looked up when Angel entered the library, through the door, for once, instead of sneaking in using some unknown way. From the look on his face they all knew immediately something was very, very wrong. Giles was the first to speak. "Angel," he said neutrally, hoping that his feelings of coming doom were wrong.
Angel didn't answer, and the tension in the room grew. Instead he walked to the nearest chair and sank into it, his face paler than usual, his eyes red. He looked down at the table, then up at the ceiling and swallowed, as though about to depart some horrible and terrifying news.
"Okay, what's up?" Xander asked, as always not quite sensing the dread that was filling the room. He could tell Angel was about to say something bad, but he wasn't worried. Now matter how bad things sounded at first, Buffy always managed to prevail, with the help of her friends, of course. He didn't see why now would be any kind of exception.
Angel didn't answer. He closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he opened them all in the room were shocked to see the red in his eyes slowly begin to treck down his face, the vampire form of tears. "Buffy's . . . " he started, and stopped, apparently unable to finish. Giles felt a chill pass through his heart. She couldn't be dead, could she? Not Buffy, not his slayer. It wasn't possible.
"She's not dead," Angel said, seeming to read his thoughts. Giles could tell from Angel's tone this was not meant to be a reassuring statement.
"Then what's wrong?" Wilow spoke up for the first time, her voice shrill, her eyes wide and concerned.
Angel looked at her, unaware of the tears that continued to fall down his face. "She's . . . " he stopped again, exasperating Xander.
"Just spit it out already!" Xander exclaimed, tired of the suspense. Might as well get the preliminary's over with so they could deal with the problem, like always.
"Buffy's . . . " Angel started again, and again stopped, swallowing, trying to force the words past his throat. "She's . . . " Again he looked up at the ceiling and down at the floor, the blood tears coming faster now. "Spike and Druscilla are alive," he said, instead, changing tactics.
"Okay . . . so what's the big deal?" Xander asked. "Buff'll just have to kill them again."
"She *can't* kill them again!" Angel shouted. "She *won't* kill them again. Spike's . . . "
Giles felt a chill grip his soul, and he knew what was coming. "Spike's what?" he asked slowly, praying to God that he was wrong, that it wasn't true. And suddenly he wished Buffy *were* dead, the truth was far worse.
Angel closed his eyes for the third time, and wiped his hands across his eyes, finally becoming aware of the tears that were spilling down his cheeks. "Spike's . . . Buffy's . . . " he took a deep breath. "Buffy's a vampire."
And with that pronouncement, Angel lost all control and began to sob in earnest.
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