Tracking down Ethan Rayne was no problem, at least, not for someone of Willow's talents. When Buffy called the next day, she had Ethan's correct address all ready for her. She was going to just let it go at that, thinking that Buffy had enough to deal with already, but Giles seemed determined to inform Buffy what had occured with her mother.
He came very close to outright yelling at the Slayer before Willow grabbed the phone away from him. She was troubled enough as it was, her boyfriend was in Hell, her mother was insane, she did *not* need her Watcher yelling at her about duty.
* * *
The tears in his eyes seemed to be there permanently now. He was never able to actually cry, his body wasn't his anymore. It belonged to Angelus. But the tears were there nonetheless.
Angelus, with *his* body, was doing abominable things. Things that made what he'd done on Earth seem like child's play. Angel guessed that it was because here he had resources that every vampire could only dream of. The scene around him was one of utter carnage, but beyond that was the blackness of his own personal oblivion. Angel yearned for that blackness, that cool, comforting nothingness. Anything was better than this... this torture. Angel would have given almost anything to just let it end. Instead, he was forced to watch from inside as he ravaged and killed everyone he'd ever loved. He felt Angelus's joy, and it only made things worse. He was slightly surprised at how many times Buffy came up in the neverending nightmare. He'd always known he loved her, but... this much? He realized that he didn't just love her, he lived for her, only for her. Her eyes haunted him, full of betrayal, pain, fear...
* * *
"Hello? I'd like to book a flight to Orlando, Florida, from NewYork... Express... Is it possible to get a night only flight? I have an allergy to bright light... No, I don't want first class. Give me the cheapest you've got... Two tickets... Name? Su— Calendar. Jenny Calendar... Thanks." Buffy hung up the phone. It was almost sunset, the flight she'd just booked left at 8:00. Just enough time to convince Dru to come with.
Actually, Dru didn't take much convincing. She seemed like a big, docile, blood-sucking child, tagging along at Buffy's command. The trip was totally uneventful, aside from Buffy continuously trying to convince Drusilla that she *wasn't* hungry. (I know this is superfluous to your story, but that would be a hysterical scene!)
Ethan's spacious apartment was also pretty easy to find, but when they arrived, he wasn't home. Buffy, after trying and failing to pick the locks, finally just kicked the door in, as carefully as she could. Luckily, she didn't damage it enough to be noticed at first glance. She wanted to ambush Ethan, not scare him off before he even came in. She formally invited Drusilla in, and together they worked to return the door to the state it had been in, or as close as they could come. Well, actually, Buffy did the work, while Dru sat in a large easy chair, singing to herself.
And so they waited, Buffy silently, Dru talking to Miss Edith, or the stars, or telling Buffy stories that made her sick to her stomach.
A little after midnight, Buffy heard footsteps outside the door, a key turning in the lock. She motioned Dru to one side of the room, a shadowed area, where she wouldn't be seen immediately upon entering the room. Buffy took her own position behind the door. As Ethan came in, humming some tune Buffy didn't recognize, she closed and locked the door behind him.
"Wha— Who's here?" Ethan whirled around, and saw Buffy leaning against the door, arms crossed, eyes hard. "YOU!" came his startled reply.
"Yeah. Me. And her," she said, gesturing at Drusilla. "And this time you're not creeping away on me either. We're not even yet."
"What do you want?" he asked, nervously.
"You see, I've got a bit of a problem, and I figure you can help me. Add to that the fact that you still owe me bigtime for nearly getting me killed, twice, I figure you'd *better* help me." Ethan sat down heavily in the easy chair. "What I want is to get someone out of Hell. He's not dead, just in Hell. And since you're the only one I know who's into black magic... Anyway, do you know any spells like that?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Demon raising, are we? Tsk, tsk, you should know better than that." Buffy smacked him across the face, and held a fist directly in front of his nose. He swallowed. "Alright, alright, no need to be violent. It depends. Do you know the name of the demon you want to raise?"
"No demon. He's not from Hell."
"OK, that makes it harder. Usually, things are summoned out of Hell with spells that are specific to them, otherwise, there's no telling what could be let loose. There is a generic spell, however, but it is quite difficult. You need to know the name of what you want, and you have to have something to call them with."
"Like personal objects? No prob."
"No, that whole idea is bullshit. Doesn't work for anything but basic witchcraft. Personal objects have a only a *very* weak hold on a person. Besides, demons don't have personal objects. No, what you need is tissue. Blood works well."
"Blood?" Buffy's hopes fell. "Nothing else will do?" Then her gaze fell on Drusilla. "What do you mean by blood, anyway? Can I find a loophole and use something like his descendant?"
"No descendants, but you can use anything that was part of his body. Skin, blood, hair, nails, body parts..."
Buffy shuddered slightly. "Then I'll damn well find some. Give me the spell." She watched as Ethan went to a bookcase and pulled out an old, leather-bound volume. Buffy took it, and sighed. "Can't anyone ever print a new, paperback version of these things? So, tell me about this spell. What do I do?"
"Oh, you know, standard routine. Burn candles, chant, same old, same old." Buffy found herself suspicious of his easy tone.
"You do realize that if it doesn't work, I'll have to find you and kill you. And if this spell kills me, you can be sure that Giles will come after you personally. And I'm thinking he'll be even nastier than me." She was bluffing, or at least, she thought she was, but she knew that the man was holding out on her. "So, anything else? Any little important details that you just might have forgotten?"
Ethan swallowed heavily. "Oh, ah, yes, you'll want to draw yourself a circle of protection against whatever demon you raise."
"Funny how you just remembered that. Now, about this blood thing. How much do I need, and how fresh does it have to be?" An idea was creeping slowly through her mind.
"Oh, just a pinch'll do, and it can be old as the hills, for all Hell cares. It just has to have some essence of your demon in it."
"Great. I have what I came for, come on, Dru. Let's go find Angel." She beckoned to the vampiress, who had been muttering something under her breath the whole time.
Before leaving, Dru turned to the man in the chamber and glared at him. "You're a bad, bad man." Her glare softened into a smile. "My Angel would like you." With that, she followed the departing Slayer complacently out. Ethan sighed with relief.
* * *
Two days later - Sunnydale
The mansion where she'd last seen her love was exactly as she'd left it. The statue of Acathla still stood with a sword protruding from its abdomen. The other sword, the one Angelus had fought with, was lying at its feet. Buffy reached down and picked it up, careful not to touch the dried blood which still lingered on the hilt.
"Good enough. Dru, we can go now." The dark-haired vampiress was talking to herself, panicked. She looked up at the blonde Slayer and followed her out.
The moment she had entered the mansion, Buffy had felt the memories of her betrayal crowding in on her, felt the despair and guilt and pain she had thought she'd nearly gotten rid of. Nearly. But here, in the place where it had happened, she felt as if it was happening all over again. She tried to pull herself together, telling herself that crying wouldn't help Angel. But it was hard, and as soon as she had the sword, all she wanted to do was get out of there as soon as she could. She had a feeling that Dru felt much the same way.
They left quickly, and went to the school library. Buffy thought that, even though it was the middle of the night, they'd likely find Giles there, rather than at home. She was right, Giles was there. she thought, but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered right now was Angel.
She entered the library quietly, Drusilla on her heels, and cleared her throat to get the Watcher's attention. He jumped. And then he saw her.
"Buffy?!" He was about to continue, but she cut him off.
"Forget the ‘We haven't seen you in a month' junk. You can do it later. I've got the spell." She handed the book to him.
He didn't take it. He was too busy staring in horror at Drusilla. "Buffy," he said, his voice urgent. "Drusilla—"
"Is right behind me, yeah, I know. She's been helping me on this little venture, though all she's actually done is not kill me. I think she wants Angel back as much as I do. Anyway, we've got a spell to do." Giles finally took the book, flipping through the pages until he found the spell.
"Alright, we'll need five candles, a spellcaster, and the blood of the thing we want to summon."
"Got the blood," Buffy replied, showing him the sword. "Have you got any candles lying around?"
"Not as such, no."
"Fine. We can pick them up at some store in the morning. What do we do until then?"
"Sleep?"
"Works for me."
* * *
Buffy woke up the next morning still in the library. On the floor. With Drusilla singing sick little songs to herself, tonelessly, beside her. She went to buy the candles, and by the time she returned, Giles, Willow, Xander, and Cordelia were all assembled in the library, carefully staying on the other side of the room from Drusilla. When Buffy returned, they all relaxed a little. Just a little.
"Alright, then," began Giles. "Here's the plan. Willow has insisted that she do the spellcasting, so Xander, Cordelia, and I will all wait down here in case something goes wrong. Buffy, take... Drusilla... and go upstairs, the stacks or some such. We can't have you around while we do the casting. Your emotional stress could endanger the entire proceeding. We'll call you when we're done." Buffy nodded curtly, and, taking Dru's hand, led her into the stacks.
* * *
"... Sanguis a sanguiem..." Willow chanted. She sat in a circle drawn on the library floor. Four of the candles were placed around her, at each of the cardinal points. The fifth sat directly in front of her. "Com amis a amiem, sumus me..." She sprinkled the dried blood from the sword into the candle flame. "...Angelus..."
* * *
"My Angel is coming, Dru sang out suddenly, as Buffy was pacing. It was the first real thing she'd said that had made any sort of sense since the fateful night they'd met. "My Angel is coming, and all the stars all singing." She stepped up behind Buffy, game face on.
* * *
"Angelus, veni est!" Willow's voice rang out in the silent library. The circle around her flared into a dome of light, and Willow slumped forward, exhausted, extinguishing the candle with her body.
* * *
He felt a wrench deep in his gut, the same place Buffy had thrust her sword. Something was pulling him. The bands of force then wrapped around his heart, and *pulled.* Angelus screamed, but Angel now had control. He was scared, but if it could hurt the demon, he welcomed it with a whole heart, whatever it was.
Suddenly, he was awash with white light so bright that he had to shield his eyes. The light flashed out of existence, but it took a moment longer for the bright spots in his eyes to clear. When they did, he found himself in the library of Sunnydale High, surrounded by the figures of Giles, Xander, and Cordelia. Willow lay sprawled on the floor. "I'll be damned. It worked!" came the voice of the librarian.
Angel looked around in bewilderment, then Giles' comment sunk in and he began to laugh with a helpless hysteria, not so much from humour, but from sheer relief and release. "Don't even think that. You *don't* want to be damned." Then he noticed that one figure was missing from the group. "Where's Buffy?"
"In the stacks," replied Giles, but Angel was gone before he had finished speaking, running to the stacks.
He found Buffy and Drusilla both there. But it was just a moment too late, and Buffy's lifeless body dropped from Dru's embrace. The vampiress looked up at him. "My Angel! You've come back!" She smiled. "Spike left us. I didn't like him, he hurt you," she confided. "But now we've got a new member of our little family." She giggled, gesturing in the vague direction of Buffy. All eyes traveled to the prone form, looking for all the world like a rag doll flung to the floor and abandoned.
Angel emitted a strangled sob, and his eyes burned with grief and rage. He threw himself at Drusilla, tackling her. "Stake!" he yelled, and was immediately tossed one by Xander. He caught it and held it above Dru.
She seemed surprised. She didn't seem to realize that Angel's soul had been returned. "My Angel," she pleaded.
"*Your* Angel is dead." His stake plunged into her breast. Not bothering to brush the dust off himself, he was instantly at Buffy's side, cradling her head to his chest.
"I-Is she alright?" asked Cordelia, weakly, but she was answered only by Angel's gut-wrenching sobs.
"It's my fault. It's all my fault. If I had fought it, if I could have stopped Angelus from taking control, none of this would have happened..." He held Buffy's limp body to him, so gently, as if he was afraid of hurting her.
"Sh-she's dead?" asked Giles, in a state of shock. He refused to accept it. But there it was, unable to be denied. Buffy, his Buffy, his Slayer, was dead.
"For now. Didn't you hear Drusilla? She *changed* her. And it's all my fault." He collapsed again in helpless sobs, holding Buffy to him like a broken-winged butterfly.
"Angel, it *wasn't* your fault," soothed Willow, who had come up in the middle of the scene with Drusilla. She was barely holding back the sobs herself. "You couldn't help it, you didn't know..." A lump came up in her throat.
"How can you say that? After all I did to you, after all the people I killed..." He lost it once again, stroking Buffy's beautiful soft hair. Willow, Xander, Cordelia, and Giles looked at each other, eyes red with tears, and wordlessly walked out, leaving Angel alone with his grief.
They all cut classes that day. Xander spent the day on his bed, tears leaking from his eyes, staring forlornly out into space. Willow buried her sobs in her pillow, with a worried Oz beside her. Giles buried his grief in an endless number of whisky bottles.
* * *
Sometime during the day, Angel had got up the will to take Buffy back to his apartment via the sewers. He, too, was virtually overcome by the feeling of despair which seemed to overwhelm everyone that day. Everything he lived for was wrapped up in one petite blonde package, and she was dead. Worse than dead, *undead.* She was everything she had stood against, and Angel somehow *knew* that it was all his fault. All he could do now was wait for her to rise. Even as a vampire, he knew he would stand by her. He knew he should kill her, but he couldn't. No matter how evil she might become, he would always love her.
Finally, as sunset was nearing, a thought occurred to him. A faint glimmer of hope in the blacknes of his despair. He picked up the phone.
"Hello, Giles? Do you still remember whatever you did that restored my soul?"
As Giles had been at home, drinking himself into oblivion, he did not fully recognize Angel's voice at first. Then he realized what Angel was saying, that there was hope for Buffy after all. "Y- Yes."
"Can you do it again? For Buffy?" His voice cracked on mentioning her name.
"Yes, I- I'll call Willow." Angel hung up the receiver. All he could do now was wait, and hope, and pray.
* * *
A slight sound started Angel from his brooding. He looked toward the bed where Buffy lay. She was moving! He rose and went to her side, held her hand in his. As her eyes fluttered open, her face, for the briefest of moments, twisted into the visage of a vampire. But it was gone before Angel could be sure he saw it. Her gaze landed silently on him, so innocently, and she smiled.
The next thing Angel knew, he was pulling himself up off the floor, his head pounding slightly. Buffy was nowhere to be seen, but there was a slip of paper on the bed. A heavy, folded piece of paper like the ones Angelus had used for his taunts.
Fear clenched his gut as he reached for the slip, unfolded it. It had only two words written on it. ‘I'm hungry.'
Angel looked up. The apartment door was open, Buffy was out there somewhere. And she wasn't the Slayer anymore, she was a bloodthirsty demon. He had to find her, stop her, keep her from killing until Giles and Willow were through. If he didn't, well... there was another Slayer out there who would be more than happy to kill her. He couldn't let that happen to her. And if she killed someone, the curse would make her suffer the same torment he did. He couldn't let that happen, either. He had to find her.
* * *
Giles was in the library. As usual. Willow was on her way, with Xander and Cordelia. She'd had the spell at her own place, she'd made it into her own special project. In fact, she was trying to change the spell from a specific one to a general one, to, in effect, restore the souls of all vampires. So far, it wasn't working. But just in case it did, Giles had an Orb of Thesulah at the ready.
Immersed as he was in preparations for the spell, he didn't notice the silent entrance of the former Slayer. "Giles?" Buffy's guileless voice came. "Wha- what happened?" He turned to see his beloved protege standing in the double doors, confusion writ large on her face.
"My God, Buffy?"
"Giles, I'm so confused. What— what's happening to me?" She broke into tears. Giles came forward to comfort her, put his arms around her. She buried her face in his shoulder. "Uh... there, there. It- it will be alright."
"Giles?" she asked, looking up at him. "I'm hungry." He looked down just in time to see her twisted face laughing evilly as she bit into his throat.
* * *
Angel was remembering how he had killed his family first. He'd gone to her house, but she hadn't been there. Neither was her mother. He knew she'd thought of Giles as a father, maybe she would go after him. In the confusion after rising as one of the undead, a vampire would usually go to where it had felt most comfortable as a mortal. And demons hated emotional bonds, they always killed their loved ones first.
He dashed into the school, nearly crashing into Xander, Willow, and Cordelia in the hall. "Buffy. Have you seen Buffy?" he forced out. The three only had time to shake their heads and look bewildered before he was gone again, running for the library.
He burst through the double doors just in time to see the dead Watcher drop from Buffy's embrace. He launched himself at her, tackling her, his momentum carrying them both clear across the library. Seconds later, the three breathless Slayerettes came through the doors. Willow screamed and ran to Giles's dead body.
"Later!" yelled Angel. "The ritual! Do the ritual! GO!"
Xander pulled Willow to the table where the spell was already set up.
Angel and Buffy rolled on the floor, wrestling. The only reason Angel had a chance was because he had caught her off guard, and because she was still a little disoriented from waking up as a vampire. Willow's voice could be heard in the background, chanting incomprehensibly.
As they wrestled, Buffy's Slayer skills came slowly back to her, and Angel was in deeper and deeper trouble. He risked a glance around to make sure no stray stakes were lying about, but this was what lost him the fight. As he took his attention away for just that moment, Buffy punched him across the jaw, and sent him reeling. She reached out for the table to pull herself up, and snatched a newly sharpened stake from the top.
Angel recovered his senses quickly, and, seeing Buffy near the trio of mortals, he launched himself at her again, knocking her off balance, and sending both of them to the floor to continue their wrestling match. He hoped that the trio would hurry, because eventually Buffy would kill him, not that he minded death. In fact, it almost seemed like a relief. But with him out of the way, Buffy would go on to do the most horrible things. As he knew from experience, her soul was still around, screaming to be let out, and he couldn't do that to her. She might kill him, but he would never be able to kill her.
Buffy had pinned Angel on his back, and as he struggled, she laughed. Her hand snuck around to the place in her waistband where she had tucked the stake, and pulled it out. She held it poised above his chest, ready to strike. "Goodbye, lover," she said, with mock seriousness. Angel saw it in freeze frame. Inch by inch, it seemed, the sliver of sharpened wood came toward him. It wasn't what he expected. He somehow believed that he might actually see his life flash before his eyes, that he might get a second chance. But none of that was happening. Suddenly, the world came back into focus, the stake sped up, and—
and stopped. Buffy's eyes suddenly blazed with a golden-yellow light, and she let out a little cry. Her movement seemed to lose all its strength, and she simply collapsed onto the supine form of Angel. He didn't try to fight her anymore, he just held her.
"Angel? But... what am I doing here? What are *you* doing here? What happened? Am I dead? Am I in Hell for what I've done?" As this last thought occurred to her, she trembled, about to cry. Angel just wrapped his arms around her tighter, rocking her back and forth slightly.
"Shhh. It's okay," he soothed.
"Angel—" she paused, and a horrible look entered her eyes. "Oh my God. Oh my God, what did I do?" Buffy grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly. Her eyes widened. "Oh God. Giles!" She ran to the librarian's body.
"He's dead, Buffy," Willow said, wearily, trying to keep the accusation out of her voice.
"No. NO! He can't be dead! Giles? Giles, come on, wake up." She was kneeling beside his body, shaking him as if he were only asleep, trying to make him get up. Tears were pouring from her eyes. But it was futile, and Buffy knew it. She sank down to the floor beside him, sobs racking her entire body.
None of the four present had ever seen Buffy break down like this. No one had ever realized just how much she'd loved him. All the accusation that Willow, Cordelia, or Xander had felt was gone now. The three stood helplessly, watching her, not knowing what else to do. Angel, however, knelt with her, putting his arms around her and holding her while she cried.
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