[Notes: 2 Okay…this is basically the real script of Becoming I with certain changes – sorry to have to do this, but as it happened, and will happen more or less as originally written. It WAS mainly about Buffy, so be prepared for the rest of Becoming to be VERY brief . This fic is going beyond S2, so I don’t wanna drag it out too much where B/A is concerned.]
“And you’re sure this was the tomb of Alfalfa?” Buffy, once more composed, directed her question towards her Watcher.
“Acathla. And yes, the information provided by Kendra’s Watcher seems conclusive.” He replied, straightening up from the table as Willow walked out from behind the counter.
“ Okay, somebody explain the whole ‘he will suck the world into Hell’ thing, because that’s the part I’m not loving.” She shuddered delicately, her face showing the fear that had risen at the information Giles had shared.
“Well, the, uh,” he put on his glasses, “the Demon Universe exists in a dimension separate from our own. Giles perched on the edge of the table.
“With one breath, Acathla will create a vortex, a-a kind of, um… whirlpool that will pull everything on Earth into that dimension, where any non-demon life will suffer horrible and… Eternal torment.” He added slowly.
“So that would be the literal kind of ‘sucked into Hell’. Buffy smiled nervously. “Neat.” Then frowned and turned towards the redhead. “Willow, I think you should try the curse.” Kendra, the visiting Slayer, folded her arms – glancing towards the dark haired youth before speaking.
“I tend to side with your friend Xander on this one. Angel should be eliminated.” He was just another Vampire in her eyes, and she couldn’t see a problem. Buffy glared at her hard, then rose to her feet.
“Oh, I’ll fight him. I’ll kill him if I have to. But what if don’t get there in time, or if I lose, then Willow might be our only hope.” Her chin lifted angrily towards the other Slayer.
“I don’t *wanna* be our only hope!” Willow spoke up, trembling, her eyes dilating fearfully. “Uh, I crumble under pressure! Let’s have another hope.” She begged nervously.
“We have.” Kendra pulled a sword from her bag and held it up. “Blessed by the knight who first slew the demon.” Giles looks at the sword, intrigued. “If all else fails, this will stop it.” Giles approached her quickly.
“Ooh. May I? May I?” he took the sword from the Slayer, looking at it more closely. “Thank you.” He glanced towards the trembling redhead. He really didn’t agree with going through with the curse. How could Buffy expect him to go along with the reacquisition of the soul? But then… what if…?
“How close are you to f-figuring out the ritual of the curse?” he asked with marked reluctance.
Willow hesitated uncertainly before retrieving her backpack. “I need about a day, and… ” Picking up some papers and reading them, “an ‘Orb of Thesulah’? Whatever that is.?”
Giles handed the sword back to Kendra and headed towards his office. “Spirit vault for rituals of the undead. I’ve got one. He flushed slightly, “I-I’ve been using it as a… paperweight.” He added before disappearing into his office.
“Angel has a ritual of his own to perform before he can remove the sword and awaken Acathla. With any luck, it should take some time.” Giles returned with a glass orb in his hand. The bitter hope that the vampire was dust before either ritual could be completed still lingered.
Buffy just stared at it as he handed it over to Willow, desperate hope glittering in her wide eyes.
Spike paced in his room, then he heard Dru coming.
“Spike?” He quickly got back into his chair just before she came through the curtain over the door.
“Spike, my sweet! The fun’s about to begin.” She giggled softly, and then followed as Spike wheeled himself out of the room and head for the main hall…
When they got there, two vampires dragged in a young man, barefoot and bare-chested with his hands tied behind his back. They dropped him to the floor before Spike, Angelus and Drusilla. Angelus walked forward and began speaking softly.
“I will drink… the blood will wash in me, over me, and I will be cleansed. I will be worthy to free
Acathla.” He looked towards the blonde Vampire. “Bear witness…” his dark eyes then rested briefly on the brunette, “as I ascend…” facing forward he morphed into his game face.
“As I become.”
He grabbed the man by the hair and lifted him up, holding his head at an angle to expose his neck. He roared before biting the young man hard and fast on the throat, and drank deeply. Pulling away, he brushed his hand across the wound and dropped the corpse. Looking at the blood on his hand. He lowered it and walked slowly toward Acathla.
“Everything that I am, everything that I have done, has led me here.” he intoned softly. Reaching Acathla, Angelus gripped the sword protruding from it’s chest, with the bloodied hand and pulled – but it didn’t move; instead, a bright red flame burst from it, throwing him back and onto the floor.
“Someone wasn’t worthy.” Spike sang sarcastically as Angelus rose to his feet angrily.
“Damn it!” he snarled, causing the fledgling Vampire to back away in fear. Drusilla began to wail hysterically.
“This is so… disappointing!” she moaned dramatically. Angelus ignored her and paced around Acathla.
“There must be something I missed. The incantations, the blood… I don’t know!” he growled under his breath. Spike unsuccessfully attempted to stifle a snicker, hiding his mouth with his hand.
“What are we going to do?” Dru whined pathetically, glancing between the two Vampires. Angelus stilled abruptly, a cold, cruel smile forming on his pale mouth.
“I think it’s time we paid a visit to an old friend of mine.” A delicious shiver ran down Dru’s spine at his menacing tone, whilst her dark eyes filled with hope.
“We’ll have our Armageddon. I swear!” he promised, the smile widening into an evil smirk. Spike shivered; but unlike his love, the Blonde Vampire felt only annoyance.
Everything was going crazy – and so wrong that the Slayers head spun with emotions of fear, anger, grief and despair.
Kendra was dead by the hands of that crazy Vamp, Drusilla; Xander had suffered a broken arm and probable concussion – Willow was unconscious with a severe head trauma; and Giles was missing.
Add that to being arrested under suspicion of murder, then escaping and not knowing where to go; and Buffy’s traumatic state of mind was completely understandable.
After walking along yet another sidewalk, she’d finally been apprehended by a police car, and was about to confront the Officer who approached her cautiously with a gun, when he was attacked and landed unconscious on the hood of his car.
Angelus lay on the floor facing the prone body of the Watcher, slowly grinning unpleasantly when the man moaned softly, his eyelids flickering before opening. The dark Vampire felt a surge of satisfaction as the dazed expression turned to shock, then fear as their eyes met.
“Hi, Rupert. I wasn’t sure you were gonna wake up. You had me worried.” He rose lithely to his feet and waited, outwardly relaxed as the man shakily climbed to his knees and stood up shakily.
“What do you want? He asked as strongly as he could. Giles refused to give into the all-consuming fear that dampened his chilled skin with sweat.
“I want to torture you. I used to love it, and it’s been a *long* time. I mean, the last time I tortured somebody, they didn’t even *have* chainsaws.” Angelus’ expression remained bland as he spoke lightly; his lip quirking infinitesimally as the stench of uncontrolled fear drenched the air.
He strolled past Giles and made his way over to Acathla. Giles turned to watch him warily, and saw the stone demon with the sword protruding from its chest. He swallowed tightly; the sound drawing Angelus’ attention.
“Oh, yeah. Acathla. He’s an even harder guy to wake up than you are. I mean, I performed the rituals, said all the right phrases… blood on my hand. Got nothing. Big doughnut hole for my troubles. I figure you know the ritual. You’re pretty up on these things. You could probably… tell me what I’m doing wrong.” Angelus paused and approached the Watcher silently, then adding:
“But honestly, I sorta hope you don’t… “Coming to a halt directly in front of him, a smile that would have put a Great White to shame curled his lips. “Cause I *really* want to torture you, Watcher.”
“He’s got your Watcher. Right now, he’s probably torturing him.” Buffy stared at the Blonde Vampire with a mixture of shock and wariness.
Spike’s assurance that he wanted Angelus gone made a weird kind of sense as he reeled off his reasons; getting especially emotional when Drusilla was mentioned. Now finding out Angelus had Giles and was probably torturing him as they spoke made her come to a decision.
“I hate you.” Spike could see her expression becoming resigned even as she said it.
“And I’m all you’ve got.” He replied shortly…
Willow woke slowly, her head thumping like crazy and feeling swollen. Her first thought when she opened her eyes was where her boyfriend was.
“Uh…is everybody else okay?”…
The third time Rupert Giles passed out, Angelus left the great hall and ascended the stairs.
Opening the door of his bedroom, his dark eyes immediately rested on the bed and its occupant who would open those gorgeous hazel eyes within the next twenty-four hours.
The exquisite brunette seemed to be sleeping peacefully; her lustrous hair spread out on the pillows and the covers tucked up to her chin. Walking silently over, Angelus reached down and grabbed the soft material, straightening and sweeping the covers from the bed and onto the floor. Several minutes passed as he just stood there, his amber-tinged eyes drinking in the delicious golden face and body laid bare before him.
Pushing down his arousal ruthlessly, Angelus finally turned away and approached his armoire. Opening the doors, he reached inside and removed a red satin, knee-length wrap over dress and a pair of delicate matching sandals.
Placing the sandals carefully on the floor at the foot of the bed, he then removed the dress from the padded hanger and undid the ties at the side.
“As much as I prefer you the way you are, sweetheart, you need to be prepared for your big day.” Angelus spoke conversationally, as if the unconscious girl were really listening to him, and proceeded to dress her carefully, his hands lingering on her satiny skin and stifling the disappointment of covering her beauty from his devouring eyes…
“You know what, mum? Why don’t we go inside, and, and we can talk about this.” Joyce Summers just stared at her daughter perplexed. After the visit earlier by the Police, she knew this could only be more bad news.
“I’m, I’m not sure how I feel about this.” She began hesitantly as Buffy started toward the door, with the strangely pale Blonde following her.
Buffy paused, and turned around to face her. Suddenly a vampire rushed across the porch, pushed her and Spike aside and jumped down the steps towards Joyce threateningly. She screamed in fear and back-pedalled rapidly.
Buffy grabbed him by the shoulders from behind and forced him around to face Spike, pulling out a stake while Spike gave him a series of punches to the face. Spike’s last blow sent the vampire spinning around and staggering away. Buffy thrust the stake into his chest, and he instantly crumbled to dust
Joyce just stood there, staring mutely in shock. Spike stepped down from the porch and looked at the pile of ash.
“One of Angel’s boys.” His voice clipped yet coldly casual.
“Yeah, probably watching me. Or you.” Buffy replied just as casually, adding to Joyce’s growing shock.
“Yeah. He won’t get a chance to tattle on us now.” Spike almost smiled in relief. If this minion had escaped, his betrayal would have been revealed, and his plans fucked completely.
“Buffy… what… is going on?” Joyce finally managed to find her voice; confusion joining the gamut of emotions spinning through her dazed mind.
Buffy looked at her mother for a moment, exchanged a look with Spike and realized sickly that the time for hiding her vocation from her mother had ended. Stepping up to her mom and looking up at her, the Slayer hoped against hope for understanding.
“Mom… I’m a Vampire Slayer.” She stated baldly.
Joyce just blinked her eyes, raised her brows and shook her head in complete dismay…
“I wanna try again.”
Willow sat in the hospital bed with Oz sitting in a chair drawn as close as possible. Xander found a chair against a wall and slouched in it, his good arm resting on his thigh as he watched his childhood friend with deeply concerned eyes.
The redhead was naturally pale – but right now her face was ashen, and the dark purple bruise on her temple stood out angrily.
“Try what?” her boyfriend asked curiously. Oz was pretty much in the dark about what was happening; but he knew it wouldn’t be long before he found out.
“The curse. We never got to finish it.” Giles had been slower than a tortoise preparing everything. She knew deep down that he hadn’t been at all happy about the whole thing, but still… “Maybe we *can* restore Angel’s soul.” The young Witch’s voice trembled wearily, but her tone was determined.
“I still don’t like it, Will. And You’re talking about messing with powerful magic And you’re weak.” Xander didn’t see the point in it all- he just wanted the Bastard put in the ground. What does it matter if he’s souled or not?
“I’m okay.” Willow assured him as strongly as was possible, but the teenager just shook his head firmly.
“You don’t look okay.” His eyes again took in her pallor and still dazed eyes. “Look, it’s not a good idea.” He added tightly.
“There’s no use arguing with me. Do you see my resolve face? “ Willow put every ounce of energy into her thready voice. “You’ve seen it before. You know what it means. This can help Buffy. If we turn Angel back soon enough, we can stop him from ever awakening Acathla.” She explained her reasons logically. This was not the time for grudges- even if the were completely understandable.
“Okay, I pretty much missed out on some stuff, didn’t I?” Oz rose to his feet. “Because this is all making a kind of sense that’s… not.” He added quietly.
Oz, can you go to the Library and get my things. Xander will tell you what I need, and fill you in on the way out.” Willow asked him softly.
“Sure. ”He kissed her hand and walked towards the door, pausing to look over towards the other young man, who got to his feet. Willow stopped him before he could join Oz.
“Xander, go to Buffy. Tell her what we’re doing. Maybe she can stall.” She instructed breathlessly. Xander shifted uncomfortably under her firm gaze. He didn’t want Buffy to stall. He wanted it over.
“Resolve face.” Willow pointed at expression and kept her large dark eyes firmly on him until he sighed heavily and looked down at his feet.
“Be careful.” He finally replied and then left…
Angelus always thought of himself as a patient Vampire. Until now, that is.
The Watcher had broken fingers, cracked ribs and bruises coloured his face and probably his whole body along with fresh and dry blood – but still the man refused to tell him what he needed to know. When he was finally ready to give in to the urge to snap his neck by painful degrees , Giles surprised him by agreeing to tell him.
“In order… to be worthy…” Giles paused to catch his breath.
“Yeah?” Angelus whispered, crouching in front of the broken man slouching in the chair he was tied to, and waited in anticipation.
“You must perform the ritual… in a tutu.” He ended weakly. Giles watched numbly as the Vampire’s brown eyes flared to gold.
He truly hoped that the Bastard would just kill him, as he was beginning to crack – he decided then that he’d rather be dead than be responsible for the pain and torture of every human on the planet.
Angelus froze for a long moment, and didn’t miss the hope for a quick death in the Watcher’s hazy eyes. As much as he wanted to kill him, he held back and instead straightened up.
“Get the chainsaw.” He threw over his shoulder towards one of the fledgling Vamps standing by the door.
“Now, now, don’t let’s lose our temper.” Spike appeared in the doorway, lounging in his wheelchair lazily.
“Keep out of it, sit ‘n’ spin.” Angelus snarled coldly.
“Look, you cut him up, you’ll never get your answers.” Spike reasoned, ignoring his sire’s insults. He’d heard worse and it gave him hope that Angelus was distracted enough for him to pull off what he had planned.
“Since when did *you* become so level-headed?” Angelus turned to face him, a slight sneer on his mouth as he looked down at his Childe disdainfully.
“Right about the time you became so pig-headed. You have your way with him; you’ll never get to destroy the world. And I don’t fancy spending the next month trying to get librarian out of the carpet.” Spike paused, then added: “There are other ways.”
“Enlighten me.” Angelus shrugged carelessly. He knew Spike was a lot sharper than he let on, and it was one of the reasons the older Vamp kept him around.
“Hmm.” Spike glanced behind him. “Drusilla? Sweetheart?” His voice automatically softened. She came in behind him and walked gracefully towards them.
“Do you want to play a game?” Spike asked with a grin. Dru wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and then they both turned their heads to look over at Angelus…
“Blood. Of course. The blood on my hands must be my own. I am the key that will open up the door? My blood?” Angelus considered the strange revelation for a moment then turned to the door. “Kill him.” He ordered emotionlessly.
Spike promised the Slayer that the Watcher wouldn’t die. Although he didn’t give a flying fuck, if it happened, and she found out before he had a chance to escape with Dru…
“Uh, but what if he’s lying?” he called to the retreating back of the Vampire, who then paused for a second before continuing.
“Then don’t – one more for Hell to welcome with open arms.” His cold reply drifted back towards the couple as he disappeared out of sight…
Buffy walked up the deserted street towards Angelus’ Mansion at a determined pace with the sword she’d retrieved from the library wrapped in a cloth.
Suddenly Xander came running out of the bushes on the hillside and jumped into the street in front of her. Startled, she took a reflexive step back, and fell into a defensive stance.
“Xander!” Buffy relaxed and glared annoyed at the young man.
“Cavalry’s here. Cavalry’s a frightened guy with a rock”, he held up said large rock, “but it’s here.” he grinned nervously.
Buffy held out a stake silently, and Xander tossed the rock aside and took it.
“That’s better.” He flashed another weak grin.
“You’re not here to fight.” Buffy started walking again. “You get Giles out, and you run like hell, understood? I can’t protect you.” She pulled the cloth from the sword then flicked a dark look towards him.
“I’m gonna be too busy killing.” She turned away before he could see the sheen of tears in her eyes. Xander looked down uncomfortably and instead focused on the sword.
“Now, that’s a new look for you.” He remarked as lightly as he could. Witty remarks usually helped in situations like this.
“It’s a present for Angel.” Only, they’d never been in this situation before, so he dropped the usual banter.
“Willow.” Xander paused awkwardly. “Uh, she told me to tell you…” Again the words wouldn’t move past his lips. He really didn’t want to let down Willow, but at the same time…
“Tell me what?” Buffy stopped her hurried walk to face him, her expression pathetically hopeful. Xander swallowed hard, and then shifted his gaze to a point over her shoulder.
“Kick his ass.” He muttered, shoving the guilt deep and forcing a weak smile on his paling face.
Without a word she continued walking. Xander hesitated a moment and then followed behind…
Angelus had begun the ritual.
“Acathla… Mundatus sum… pro te necavi. Sanguinem meum… pro te effundam…”
“Are we ready?” Willows voice still bore a slight tremor, but her expression was firm…
Buffy crept quietly behind the Vamp that guarded the door- but was looking at the spectacle within the room rather that keeping watch. She raised her sword and decapitated him with a single swing. He crumbled to dust as his head fell to the floor.
Drusilla and Angelus, hearing the almost imperceptible noise, turned their heads to look.
“Hello, lover.” Buffy gazed back at them, keeping her expression as blank as the dark Vampire’s.
“I don’t have time for you.” He dismissed her in a bored tone. Buffy stiffened in anger.
“You don’t have a lot of time *left*.” She retorted tightly.
“Coming on kind of strong, don’t you think? You’re just a Slayer, not a God. Do you really think you can take us all on?” He sneered insultingly.
“No. I don’t.” she returned quietly. As long as she remembered this…monster wasn’t her Angel, she had a chance of succeeding. But it didn’t make her feel any better about what she had to do.
Spike, directly behind him, got up out of his wheelchair with a determined look on his face and whipped him hard across the back with a crowbar. Angelus gasped out in pain and collapsed to the floor. Drusilla twisted her head to look at Spike in shock. He continued to whale on Angelus as hard as he could. Buffy ran towards Drusilla, but the other minion vampire attacked her.
She spun around to face him, but he punched her and she fell to the floor. Tripping him when he came at her again Buffy manoeuvred to her feet, ready to fight. He came at her again with a series of punches, all of which she easily blocked. Spike kept pounding on Angelus.
“Painful, isn’t it?” He asked conversationally, enjoying every minute of it. Bastard
As he continued with his attack, Drusilla freaked, and jumped on his back, taking him down to the floor with her.
Buffy’s assailant swung a backhand punch in her face, and she staggered into a chair by the wall. She quickly recovered to block another swing, brought her knee up into his gut and kicked him in the face, knocking him to the floor. She spied a pile of broken wood fragments and went to it. The vampire got to his feet just as Xander came into the room and surprised him with a punch. Buffy picked up a suitable piece of scrap wood and got back into the fight. Xander backed off to go look for Giles. The vampire ducked a roundhouse kick and blocked another kick.
Spike and Drusilla got up from the floor and face each other off.
“I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” He pleaded softly, but she grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into the wall. He slapped her arm aside and punched her in the face.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t.” He added gruffly…
Willow cast her stones and gave Oz his cue.
“Quod perditum est, invenietur.” Oz read and waved the burning herbs and incense with surprising ease.
[Translation: What is lost, return.]
“Not dead… nor not of the living. Spirits of the interregnum, I call.” Willows voice echoed around the quiet hospital room…
Xander pushed aside a curtain to another room and found Giles still tied to a chair, his head tilted back and slouched limply.
“Giles!” he gasped, shock by the state of the Watcher – but at least he was alive, he thought, relieved. “Giles!” he repeated firmly, a little louder.
Giles lifted his head slowly. Xander crouched behind the chair and began to untie the ropes.
“Xander?” Giles sounded delirious as his eyes flickered open.
“Can you walk?” The teen let out a breath of relief at the sound of the man’s voice.
“You’re not real.”
“Sure, I’m real.” Xander frowned in confusion, struggling with the knots in the rope.
“It’s a trick. They get inside my head, make me see things I want.” Giles explained emotively. Dropping the untied ropes, Xander walked round the chair to face the groggy Watcher.
“Then why would they make you see me?” he asked, quirking his brow. Giles stared hard at the boy, then sighed heavily.
“You’re right. Let’s go.”…
Buffy and the vampire were still fighting when they struggled though the hall and escaped from the Mansion.
Drusilla swiped at Spike with her hand and left four parallel scratches across his cheek. She followed up with a punch that knocked him to the floor. Angelus woke up and groaned in pain. He rubbed a bloodied hand over his eyes and looked up at Acathla.
Getting to his feet, he went over to the demon. Just as Buffy finally dusted the Vampire, Angelus had taken the last few steps to Acathla and had grabbed the sword stuck in his chest by the hilt with his bloody hand.
A blindingly bright light emanated from it, and Buffy looked up from her kill in time to witness Angelus pulling the sword from the demon’s heart. With a few telltale sparks the light was suddenly gone. Angelus whipped the sword around in his hand and held it up to look at it. Buffy scrambled to get her own sword. Drusilla looked up from her fight and gazed at Acathla with a crazed smile.
“Oh… Here he comes,” she whispered, giggling softly; and then Spike came up behind her and grabbed her around the throat with his arm, choking her…
“Gods, bind him. Cast his heart from the… evil… realm.” Willow chanted weakly, her breath coming out in gasps. Oz watched her anxiously…
Buffy held up her sword and faced off with Angelus. He held his own confidently.
“You almost made it, Buff.” The deliberately false admiration made her want to throw up.
“It’s not over yet.” She warned him tightly.
“My boy Acathla here is about to wake up. You’re going to Hell.”
“Save me a seat.” She thrust at him with her sword…
“Return.” Willow panted tiredly; “I call on…” her gasps become harsher.
“Willow? Are you okay?” Oz asked worriedly.
Without warning Willow’s head snapped back and she looked up with her eyes wide open. Her head snapped back down and her eyes stared into the Orb. She began to chant steadily in Rumanian as though possessed.
“Te implor, Doamne, nu ignora aceasta rugaminte.”[I implore you, Lord, do not ignore this request.]
“Nici mort, nici al fiintei…” [Neither dead, nor of the living…]
“Lasa orbita sa fie vasul care-i va transporta, sufletul la el.” [Let this Orb be the vessel that will carry his soul to him.]…
Deep thundering growls and noises came from Acathla as he began to wake.
Spike continued to apply pressure to Drusilla’s throat; she began to lose consciousness and slumped over in his arms. [I know; Vamp’s don’t breath, duh! JW Cannon!]
“Sorry, baby. Wish there was another way.” When she began to fall he caught her, lifted her into his arms and started to carry her out.
On the way he passed the doorway to the atrium and glanced outside. When he saw them he stopped to take a better look. Buffy was backing up against the wall without her sword while Angelus slowly and deliberately advanced on her holding his.
“God, he’s gonna kill her.”
He watched for another moment, then shrugged and headed for the garage with Drusilla. As he passed the stairs, he glanced up, hesitated, and then shook his head. He couldn’t help the little bit now.
Either way she was damned.
He sighed and carried on his way hurriedly…
Angelus played with his sword, idly pointing it at Buffy. She looked up at him, frightened.
“Now that’s everything, huh? No weapons… No friends… No hope.” He taunted coldly.
Buffy closed her eyes and steeled herself for whatever was coming.
“Take all that away… and what’s left?” Cruel satisfaction lit up his obsidian eyes.
He drew the sword back and thrust it directly at her face. With lightning-fast reflexes she swung up with both arms and caught the blade between the palms of her hands. She opened her eyes and met his.
“Asa sa fie! Asa sa fie! Acum!” [So it shall be! So it shall be! Now!]
Buffy kicked high and hit Angelus full in the face. He fell backward into Acathla and landed on his knees before her…
“Acum!” [Now!]… …
As he was attempting to rise to his feet, Angelus cried out and clutched his chest, eyes flaring with a white glow just as buffy raised her sword for the killing blow…
Cordelia’s eyes opened slowly, her vision blurry at first, so she blinked hard a couple of times to clear them. Several long minutes went by before she recalled the event prior to falling asleep.
“Angel! Angel?” she shot upright and looked around the darkened room anxiously, her heart racing on finding herself alone yet again. Were they already in Hell? And if so, why did everything feel just the same? And where the hell was Angel? Had he left her? So many thoughts ran through her terrified brain as she hugged her knees close to her chest.
After a while Cordelia calmed down and took stock of herself: Slightly sore throat. Check. and – wth?! . A great stonking bite … ookay, not that big, graced her inner thigh. She didn’t recall Angel doing that! Relieved to find herself clothed – one good thing. Fingering the silky material Cordelia blushed when she also realised it was the only thing she wore. Feeling pretty miffed – which was an emotion she could thankfully recognise with comfort, she finally slid off the bed and walked cautiously to the closed door. As she did so, her eyes fell on the red sandals placed neatly on the floor.
Once they were on her feet, Cordelia continued to the door and nervously tried the handle; it opened beneath her trembling hand. Angelus!
The thought of the evil Vampire had her skittering back a few feet, clutching her chest frantically. What if it was another trap? “No, Cor- Angel’s back, remember? He’s probably downstairs having blood cocktails; or whatever Vamps get drunk on, grieving over Buffy…That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” She muttered, her eyes filling with tears as she recalled his news. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Cordelia used every ounce of Queen ‘C’ to contain her rapidly fragmenting control. This was not the time. First she had to find Angel.
As she descended the stairs, Cordelia shivered from the chill of the dark old building, and the eerie silence. After twenty minutes checking every room, and jumping every two seconds, she finally stood uncertainly in front of the terrifying stone Demon statue she’d come upon in what looked like a main hall. “Where the hell IS everyone?” she cried out fretfully, her eyes almost accusing as she again glanced at the statue. It looked to her like Angel had abandoned her.
By the time she’d found the lobby, partially sun-drenched since the front doors were wide open, Confusion warred with fear.
Was this Hell?
It didn’t look any different. No distant screaming, no demons to be found; not including the creepy statue. Maybe Angel HAD managed to close the vortexy thing after all? “He’s probably gone off somewhere to get over B-Buffy” she muttered with a catch in her breath. Don’t worry about me, I’ve only had a major crapfest that ended up with me getting off with the Slayer’s hand-me-downs.”
Cordelia felt the smallest twinge of shame, recalling Buffy’s grisly death. “another trauma to add to the list. I so need to get home … if it’s still there?” With one final look around, she stiffened her spine and walked as confidently as she was able through the open door, a fragile determination in every line of her face and body as she stepped out into the bright sunshine and made her way down the overgrown drive …