Part 10
Denial is like a hurricane. Somewhere in the midst of it, in the thick of your refusal to admit the truth, there is a serene place, like the eye of the storm. It seems calm; no furious wind, no torrential downpour. You can just sit back, relax, and enjoy the peaceful silence. If you were smart, you’d look around you and see the winds whirling not so far away, the lives being destroyed, the property being damaged.
But instead, you look up at the sky, focusing only on the clarity, not the madness. You cling to the calmness as if it’s your salvation. You pretend that if you just keep moving with the storm, you can keep yourself ensconced in this little corner of oblivion. You keep telling yourself the comfortable lies, hoping in the back of your mind that they won’t blow away and expose the truth you’re trying so hard to ignore.
But inevitably, the storm overtakes you. The wind encircles you, cuts through you. The lies you’ve told yourself whip around you, tearing at your clothes, pelting sand and hail into your face and stinging your eyes. The truth is begging to be heard, and you can’t help but heed it. As you do, your foolishness soaks through you like rain, seeping into every corner of your mind and chilling you to the bone. The stupidity of your denial permeates everything, forcing you to face up to the truth. Forcing you to admit that you love her. Forcing you to take charge and take back what you should never have given up in the first place.
But even though the storm takes its toll, it doesn’t destroy you. The landscape of your life may be littered with the refuse of your bad choices, the carefully erected walls around your heart may have tumbled to nothing more than rubble, but you still have hope. She is still there, still accessible, still malleable. She may swear that she hates you with the fire of a thousand suns, but you know that somewhere in her heart, there resides a soft spot for you. A devotion that you don’t deserve, but you’re determined to get back.
So you shake the rain off, pick up the pieces of your shattered pride, and find a way to rebuild your life. Only this time, you refuse to brave the horrific storms of life without her. This time, you acknowledge the one ingredient that will shelter you from any storm: her love.
***
The hot water pounded on Angel’s back as he rested his forehead on the cold tiled wall of the shower. His raging body had quieted, the stark reality of his miserable life like ice to his desire. He was so desperately in love with Cordelia Chase that it consumed him. He’d walled off the feelings, refused to acknowledge them, but they’d refused to be ignored. His dreams of late had all been themed with her, all of them leaving him hard and aching.
Last night hadn’t been the worst one, but he knew it would’ve been if he’d been alone. Buffy’s presence had prevented him from experiencing the entire dream, and he was strangely thankful. Since the dream hadn’t finished, he’d been forced to acknowledge his feelings. He had to get her back. She was everything to him, and he was desperate not to lose her.
But she was with Spike now.
Unable to control himself, Angel released a low growl that reverberated off the tiled walls. Spike had always been a thorn in his side, but now, he was standing directly between him and the one thing he couldn’t live without. And the worst part was, Cordelia acted like she wanted Spike, not him anymore.
He really had no legitimate reason to want to kill Spike other than his current relationship with Cordelia, and that made Angel feel guilty. Spike was his family, one of the vampires in his line, and the demon in him felt the strong pull of allegiance and loyalty. He was bound as the head of his order to protect Spike, and his soul wasn’t even arguing with that anymore. Spike had a soul himself. He fought on the good side now. That made him family, true family, once again.
Angel just hoped that Cordelia would see reason and he wouldn’t have to challenge Spike for her. That would cause a serious problem.
Now, though, he had to go back out and tell a woman that he truly cared about that he wasn’t in love with her anymore. He had suspicions that she was in love with Spike, but still, he didn’t want to break her heart.
Quickly, he turned to bury his head under the flow of water, then lathered and rinsed his hair. He was anxious to get out and get this over with. Anxious to start looking for a way to get Cordelia back.
***
Buffy listened as the water shut off in the bathroom. The faucets squeaked as he turned the knobs, then she heard the faint rustle of the shower curtain’s rings on the metal bar. Listening to the sounds of Angel’s ablutions, she tried not to think of the mess she now found herself in.
Actually, she’d been in this mess for awhile now, she just hadn’t acknowledged it. After seeing Spike in that alley a few weeks ago, she’d thought she’d done a great job of getting over him. She thought that the naughty dreams at night were just an echo effect. She thought that her lack of interest in Angel was just cold feet, just a hurdle to be jumped because of their long separation.
But now that she knew where his affections lay, the reason he had been so unsure about their relationship, she was able to see her own feelings for what they were. She loved Spike. There were no two ways about it.
And Angel loved Cordelia.
That was still a bitter pill to swallow, even if her own love for the dark vampire was a thing of the past.
“Ready for that heart to heart now, Buffy?”
She looked up to see him standing in front of her, black chinos and unbuttoned silk shirt, his hair slicked down from his shower. Nodding, she stood up and followed him back to the living room. They sat across from each other; she curled up in the chair, he sprawled out on the couch.
They sat for a moment, the silence thick and stifling. Neither of them wanted to say anything, part of their hearts not wanting to let go of the relationship they’d tried so hard to save.
But in the end, the death knell of their love echoed around them. This couldn’t happen. They couldn’t make love. They couldn’t have sex. They couldn’t get back the fiery love they’d once shared.
Because they were both totally, passionately, irrevocably in love with other people.
Clearing his throat, Angel finally raised his eyes to meet Buffy’s. “I don’t know if there’s an easy way to say this.”
“Just say it, Angel. If we owe each other anything, it’s honesty.”
He regarded her for a moment more. “I’m in love with Cordelia.”
Buffy was amazed to feel a flood of relief at his words. The last thing she’d wanted was to break his heart.
Oblivious, Angel continued. “I thought I’d gotten over her, that I’d been able to put those feelings behind me. I even thought that the time she was possessed had erased what love I had for her. But I was lying to myself.”
She smiled slightly. “I kinda figured that out this morning. Dreams have a funny way of telling us what we aren’t willing to admit.”
He only nodded.
After a moment, she asked the question she knew she shouldn’t. “Why Cordelia, Angel? It’s no secret that we don’t like each other, but even looking at her objectively, I don’t see that you two have a whole lot in common.”
Angel tried not to take offense at her words; he knew that she was trying to be diplomatic. But he couldn’t help the rush of anger that came up in defense of Cordelia. He looked for a way to explain that would make Buffy understand.
“She’s not the same person you knew in high school, Buffy. It’s not even that she’s gotten older and matured; that’s what everybody does. Getting the visions made her reevaluate her priorities in a way that brought out the best qualities in her. She didn’t lose the personality that makes her Cordelia Chase, but she honed it and tuned it until she was less self-centered and more compassionate. Having the visions, experiencing the pain of others made my mission hers. It made her see how important her role in all of this is.”
Pausing for a moment, he searched for the words he needed. “We do have a lot in common, Cordelia and I, especially since the nightmare of last year. But even without that, there’s something that makes Cordelia special, something that has drawn me to her from the beginning.”
Knowing that his next words would be a roundabout insult to Buffy’s love for him, Angel looked away from her, his eyes focusing on his fingers as they gripped the arm of the sofa.
“Cordelia accepted me. All of me. The demon and the man, no questions asked. She was wary of my demon, but she realized that I am Angelus, and she loved me anyway. She loved the demon in me, nurtured the demon and the man.”
He raised his head, his eyes searching her down-turned face. “She loved me unconditionally, demon and all. No one has ever done that before.”
Buffy squirmed uncomfortably in her chair, picking at the fringed edge of the pillow she’d squished in her lap. She knew that what he said was true. The Slayer in her couldn’t accept the vampire in him. She, the girl, had fallen in love with him, the man, the soul, but the vampire in him had always been something to be tolerated, not loved and accepted. And now that they were acknowledging the fact that their relationship wasn’t meant to be, it made so much more sense.
“I just hope it’s not to late to get her back,” Angel finished, the worry evident in his voice.
Finally looking up at him, Buffy’s eyes were contrite. “I don’t think it’s too late, Angel. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t be that person for you. Not back in Sunnydale, and not here. But I know that if things were different, if you weren’t in love with Cordelia and I wasn’t in love with Spike, I’m at a place now where I could love your demon. Because I fell in love with Spike when he didn’t have a soul. How it was possible, I don’t know, but it happened.”
“Now it’s my turn,” Angel said with a wry expression. “Why Spike?”
She laughed softly. “I know. There’s no love lost between you and him either, is there?”
He shook his head ruefully. “Spike and I have been at odds with each other since Druscilla turned him. At first, it was Angelus’ need to dominate. But then, later on when he became a master in his own right, it was just intense dislike. He annoys me. Always has. And even the compassion my soul gives me hasn’t helped me tolerate him any better.”
“But you’d die for him,” Buffy stated, daring him to deny it.
His eyes stared back into hers with a dark steadiness. “Damn straight. He may not be my favorite person, but he’s part of my family. Normally, that wouldn’t make a difference, since my family consists of evil vampires, but he’s got a soul now. That puts us back on the same side, and as much as I hate to admit it, that makes me duty bound to protect him with my life.”
Smiling at him, Buffy let her shoulders relax. The last thing she wanted before trying to get Spike back was Angel’s disapproval.
“But I don’t have to like it.”
She laughed. “Nobody expects that of you, Angel.”
“You haven’t answered my question yet,” Angel said. “Why Spike?”
She thought for a moment before answering. “A lot of things, I guess. When I first came back, I was a total wreck. I was spiraling into a really bad place, and Spike was the only real thing I had. Whenever we . . . um,” her eyes darted away from him nervously and she stopped.
Angel just grunted. “I know, Buffy. I don’t like it, but I know. Go on.”
“Whenever I was with him, I felt real. It was so intense, so physical, that it made me come alive again. All of me. Like I wasn’t just a walking corpse anymore. But then I realized how much he loved me and how numb I was inside, how I couldn’t love him back like that. So I broke it off. It was the best thing I ever did.”
“Then why do you want to be with him again, if it was so self-destructive?”
“It wasn’t the relationship with him that was the problem, it was my attitude towards it. I had to become a whole person again before I could open myself up to loving him. But he didn’t understand that. Something in his nature told him that I was his, I just wasn’t admitting it. He didn’t realize that I’d come back to him eventually, because I couldn’t tell him that. I didn’t even know it myself.”
Tears flooded her eyes and she looked blurrily down at the pillow in her lap, her fingers rapidly worrying the edges. “Then he . . . he became so desperate that he tried to force me, and I think it broke him. It was a turning point for both of us. I realized how obsessed he’d become, what I’d done to him, and he realized that he couldn’t stay. So he left in search of his soul.”
“But it wasn’t what he thought it would be.” Of all people, Angel would know.
“No, it wasn’t. He tried to become what he thought I wanted, but when he did, he didn’t think he deserved me. So he played it off, never letting me in again until the end. And that’s when I realized I loved him. When he was about to die and it was too late.”
She didn’t notice, but tears were coursing down her face. “He loves me, Angel. He understands me in a way no one else ever has. There’s just something about him, a pragmatic optimism that just won’t die, won’t let go, won’t give up. Just when I think there’s no hope, there he is with just the words I need to keep going. He knows that I’m susceptible to the darkness in my life, that I’ll run myself down until I’m teetering on the edge of insanity, and no one knows but him. Giles, Willow and Xander have always seen me as this strong, unshakeable person, but Spike knows its just an act. He makes me face up to my fears and confront them, and he helps me see my strengths and weaknesses in a constructive, healthy way. He loves me unconditionally.”
The words were profound in the quiet room, a delayed echo of Angel’s words about Cordelia.
“That’s always been our problem, hasn’t it?” Angel said.
“What?”
Angel sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “We’ve never loved each other unconditionally, Buffy. I’ve always held back because I didn’t want to hurt you, because I thought I didn’t deserve you. You’ve always held back, at first because I was a vampire, and then later because of Angelus. We never let go and just trusted each other. I never trusted you to put me first, and you never did, either.”
“You’re right,” she agreed, then let the silence descend once again.
Angel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, stopping to scratch his jaw. “Looks like we might have a second chance with them, though.”
She smiled half-heartedly. “If they haven’t given up on us all together.”
“I don’t think they’re sleeping together, so maybe we’re not too late.”
She snorted in disbelief. “Of course they’re sleeping together. We threw them aside and made them believe we’re together, like ‘together’ together, and they probably needed the comfort. Just like we tried to get.”
Angel’s eyes narrowed. He doubted Spike would have the same trouble he’d had getting into a heated moment, especially with Cordelia. That woman could melt a glacier; Spike didn’t stand a chance of maintaining control if he wanted to, and Angel doubted he would want to. Spike had always been a spur-of-the-moment kind of vampire.
More to convince himself than anything else, Angel shook his head vehemently. “No, they aren’t. At least not before last week.”
“And how do you know?” Buffy’s gaze was skeptical.
He raised an eyebrow knowingly. “Vampire senses.”
“Oh. OH! Eww! That’s a major overshare, Angel.”
His look turned brooding as her words reverberated. They sounded so much like Cordelia’s words that it made his heart ache.
He had to see her.
Now.
“Let’s go, Buffy. I can’t sit around her and wait any more. The more time we waste, the more they’ll hate us.”
“It’s daylight, Angel.”
He frowned. “Damn. Then sunset. Not a minute later.”
She stood up and faced him. “No arguments here. Grovel batteries charged and ready.”
He groaned. “I hate groveling.”
She smirked at him. “I know, it sucks. But think of the rewards.”
A slow grin spread across Angel’s face as he thought of all the ways he could ‘apologize’ to Cordelia. Lots of naked ways. There may be something to this groveling business after all.
***
“Hurry, Spike! We don’t have much time!”
Cordelia was in a full sprint, quite a feat considering her non-running footwear. She raced up one of the streets nearest the hotel, oblivious to any danger to herself. All she could think about was the child in her vision, the angelic little face that would be destroyed if they didn’t hurry.
“Damn, pet. We should’ve brought a car if you were going to run so fast,” he complained. It wasn’t like he couldn’t move quickly, because he could. Supernatural abilities and all. But he didn’t like to. Especially when Cordelia was taking no precautions for her own safety.
Abruptly, Cordelia stopped, Spike nearly slamming into the back of her. She held up her hand for silence, trying to calm her breathing.
“This is it,” she whispered, nodding toward an alley just a few feet ahead.
“It’s a demon, you said?” Spike asked.
Cordelia nodded. “Yeah. But I don’t know what kind. It’s something I’ve never seen before. It has some really sharp claws, and three rows of teeth. Like those sharks in Australia.”
“The PTB’s give you any instructions for killing it?” Spike said as he pulled a sword from under his coat. He much preferred to fight hand to hand, but hand to claw wasn’t as effective and much messier. Looked like he’d have to use weapons this time.
Looking at him strangely, Cordelia pulled a crossbow from her bag and loaded it. “The Powers are never that specific, Spike. Just slice and dice it, before it does the same to you.”
He sighed, then nodded. “When?”
She glanced at her watch. “I saw the boys watch in my vision. 11:49 p.m. That’s three minutes.”
Just then, they heard the slap of tennis shoes on pavement, the sound growing louder with each step. Hurrying over to the entrance to the alley, they peeked around the corner.
A small boy, no older than eight, was running for his life, turning his head every few seconds to see if the monster was still there.
It was.
Spike would’ve forgot to breathe for a moment if he were human. As it were, he just grasped the handle of his sword more tightly, then stepped casually out in to the alley between the demon and the child. Cordelia jumped in front of the boy and caught him, dragging his struggling form away and off to the side. Once he realized she was trying to help him, he clung to her and sobbed.
“It’s okay, baby,” she whispered, rubbing her hand over his small back. “He won’t hurt you anymore.”
The little boy pried his head away from her chest, the tears coursing down his face. He gasped for breath, then choked out, “The monster will kill him.”
“Spike?” Cordy asked. “My friend?”
The little boy nodded, his face scrunching up as the tears flowed again.
“No,” Cordy reassured him. “Spike’s a superhero. The monster can’t kill him.”
Cordelia just prayed that she was right.
Spike was growing more and more anxious. The moment he’d stepped between the demon and the child, the monster had stopped abruptly, searching Spike with his black eyes and just swaying on his feet. He seemed to be mesmerized by the sight of the vampire, the only sound he made were his claws scraping against each other as he flexed his hands.
Then, it was as if the demon shook himself out of a trance. He looked rapidly around and noticed that his prey had disappeared. Tilting his head back, he let out a loud roar of indignation.
“Bullocks,” Spike muttered, raising his sword to the ready. He may not have an ice cube’s chance in hell, but at least he would go out fighting.
***
“They should be here,” Angel said worriedly for the fifth time.
Buffy gritted her teeth. God, when had she ever thought his anxiety was sexy? Now it was just downright annoying.
She looked around the hotel lobby, noting the cold cup of coffee and half-eaten pizza on the counter. “Looks like they left in a hurry.”
“Or were taken in a hurry,” Angel added.
Buffy paused a moment to think. “Maybe Cordelia had a vision,” she suggested.
Angel looked at her strangely for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “No. She hasn’t had visions since she woke up. She would’ve told me.”
Raising an eyebrow at him in disbelief, Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, really? And why would she do that? You told her you didn’t want her anymore. You were living with me. You said she abandoned you. So why exactly would she come to you?”
Hearing Buffy defend Cordelia was something Angel thought he’d never survive to see. But just because she was defending her didn’t mean she was right.
“They’re messages for me. Why wouldn’t she tell me? Who else would take care of them?”
Buffy just stared at him, a ‘hello? Duh!’ look on her face. Sometimes he was so dense.
The light dawned, and Angel’s jaw clenched. “Spike,” he growled, his hands fisting.
“He’s a champion, too, you know,” Buffy reminded him, the words like salt to his emotional wounds.
“But those are MY visions. And she knows that.”
“No, she doesn’t, not anymore,” Buffy said softly, finally taking pity on him. “She thinks you’ve written her off, so she took what resources she had available to her. Spike can handle it just as well as you can.”
Angel resisted the urge to punch his fist into the marble column just behind him. Growling, he walked over to the weapons cabinet and jerked it open. Yanking out a double-sided axe and a broadsword, he jerked his head toward the door.
“Let’s go.”
Buffy smiled slightly at his determination. She grabbed a short sword and a couple of stakes, tucking them into her sleeves. Following him out the door, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“I don’t know. But I’m following Cordelia’s scent. I don’t think they’re too far away.
***
Spike had known this fight would be difficult, but he still wasn’t prepared. The demon’s claws were nearly as long as his sword, and their length combined with the demon’s arm span made decapitation nearly impossible. So far, Spike had done nothing more than dodge the claws, ducking and rolling, trying to get underneath and swing up. It hadn’t worked.
Cordelia was anxious as she looked on. It seemed as if Spike were losing, as if he couldn’t get the right angle to kill the beast. The child she held watched in morbid fascination, his lips moving in silent prayer as his guardian angel took on the big bad monster. But even to his young eyes, the situation seemed to be getting grimmer. He whimpered as he imagined what would happen if the blonde man was killed.
Noticing his distress, Cordelia whispered, “Do you live far from here?”
The little boy shook his head and sniffled. Pointing to a building across the street from the end of the alley, he said, “I live there.”
She turned him around to face her, momentarily ignoring Spike’s frustrated growls and the sickening sound of metal scraping against claw.
“Go,” she told the child, pushing him away from the fight and toward his home. “You’ll be safe. Go inside and don’t come out again until morning.”
He nodded, fresh tears streaming down his face. “Don’t let him die,” he said, his voice breaking.
“I won’t,” Cordelia promised, her eyes not leaving him until he was safely behind the doors of the apartment building. Only then did she turn back to the battle.
She couldn’t have picked a worse time. Spike had feinted left, but the demon had outsmarted him. One moment, Spike was swaying on the balls of his feet, looking for an opening to thrust his sword, and the next, two huge claws were sliding into his torso like stickpins into a cushion. Cordelia shrieked, her hands covering her mouth as she sank to her knees. Spike’s mouth opened wide in pain and shock, barely able to grip his sword. He looked down as the beast began to lift him off the ground, his feet dangling.
It was then that Spike realized his opportunity. Being skewered had lessened the distance between his sword and the demon, and it gave him the extra room he needed to get the job done.
Blocking out the pain, Spike raised his sword and swung. It sliced cleanly through the demon’s neck, his head sliding off the body and landing with a gruesome plop on the sidewalk. As the body fell, the claws slowly slid out of his body and he slumped on the sidewalk.
Cordelia ran up to his side, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, my god, Spike.”
She placed a hand over the gaping wounds in his stomach, his borrowed blood already slowing. “We’ve got to get you back to the hotel.”
He gritted his teeth and groaned. “Don’t think I’ve had an injury quite like this one,” he muttered, struggling to his feet.
Raising a bloody hand to his face, Cordelia stroked his jaw. Kissing him on the cheek, she wrapped her arm firmly around him. “Good thing we’re close to home. Close to blood to heal you up and a bed to rest in.”
“Good thing you’re around, Cheerleader,” he said, trying not to hiss with the pain as they began to move.
“That’s me, first aid girl,” Cordelia said, trying to sound cheerful. “And it’s a good thing you’re around. There’s no way I could’ve taken on that demon by myself and survived. Besides,” she added, “Playing nurse is always fun.” She winked at him saucily.
Just as she’d predicted, the comment brought a smile to his face. “Just as long as you give me a sponge bath, we’ll call it even.”
“You got it, Blondie Bear.”
From the other end of the alley, two tortured souls looked on. One, the vampire, seethed with anger as he watched his love comfort another. Any thoughts of loyalty to and acceptance of his childer had flown to the four winds. He burned with rage as he watched his grandchilde tightly grasp her waist, heard his suggestive comments. This entire situation was completely unacceptable.
The other soul, the Slayer, was just as upset, but her anger was tinged with a bit of helplessness. She’d watched her love be shish-ka-bobbed by the demon, her heart beating rapidly as she feared for his safety. She’d felt a rush of pride as he’d pushed aside his pain and killed it. Desperate to rush to his aid, she’d nearly run over to him and thrown the other young woman aside, wanting to tend to him by herself. But she’d had no time. Before either she or her companion could interfere, the couple had already started toward home, moving away from them.
