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buffyfic-digest        Friday, August 14 1998        Volume 02 : Number 301



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: Repercussions, epilogue
       BUFFYFIC: Cursed (3/?)
       BUFFYFIC: "Faith" -- "Part Six: Stepping on Sparks" (6/9)

See the end of the digest for information on (un)subscribing to the buffyfic
or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues.

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Date: Fri, 14 Aug 1998 06:35:58 PDT
From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Repercussions, epilogue

Title: Repercussions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimers: None of these characters are mine,they are the property of
Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, etc...
distribution: Sure, just tell me where.
feedback: I would be very grateful.
thanks: To Rachel, who helped me write a much better story than I could
have on my own, to Christine, who kept me inspired to finish it, and to
Jenn who helped me with grammar and also morale-boosting. :)


The Bronze
August 23, 1998

The two girls walked confidently into the Bronze, their faces young and
worry-free. The blond-haired Slayer followed only slightly behind her
red-headed friend, and the sadness that remained in her eyes was well
hidden. Laughing overly loud at a joke Willow told, the Slayer wrapped
one arm over her companions shoulder as they headed towards the bar to
get a drink. Buffy kept a steady stream of chatter flowing as they
waited for their drinks, the conversation deliberately light. Asking
after the hackerÆs summer and how things had been progressing with Oz.
Not one serious comment slipped from either of their mouths until they
had their drinks and were headed towards a table near the stage.

"You're sure you're ready for this?" Willow questioned Buffy as they
settled into their seats, her eyes sweeping the room to see if Oz had
arrived yet.

"I'm sure, besides, I want to see Oz play.ö Buffy nudged Willow and
grinned at her. ôI wanna be a groupie too.ö  Smiling helplessly, Willow
let Buffy pull her back into the lighthearted conversation the Slayer
seemed to need.

Sipping her drink slowly while waiting for Oz to play,  Willow leaned in
close to Buffy, her face worried, "What if Xander shows? Are you okay
with that?"

Buffy stiffened for a moment, her eyes clouding with remembered pain.
Then taking a deep breath she relaxed her shoulders and stuck her tongue
out at Willow. "He brought my boyfriend out of Hell. How can I hold a
grudge after that?"

"Buffy! Be serious. Can you forgive him? Have you?" Willow watched Buffy
anxiously, her fingers tapping unconsciously  on the table.

"Have you?" Buffy turned on her, her eyes curious, "He betrayed you too.
Have you forgiven him?ö The Slayer watched Willow, all traces of joking
gone from her face.

Staring at the empty stage for a moment Willow seemed lost in thought,
then turning back to Buffy she spoke slowly. "When I thought we would
lose him...that he would be trapped in Hell...I realized I still loved
him. Not in the way I once did, but because he is Xander and he does
stupid stuff before he thinks about the consequences. I still think he
made the wrong choice, but he more than made up for it. I mean he even
defended Angel."

Buffy winced as Willow spoke Angel's name, but nodded at her words, "I
agree. He certainly tried harder than I did to fix what I had done."

"Buffy, you promised, no guilt-trips. You're worse than Angel." She
grinned as she said the words, hoping Buffy wouldn't take it the wrong
way.

"Is that possible?" Smiling sadly she fiddled with the straw in her
drink, lost in thought, then looking at Willow she spoke quietly. "Angel
suffered in Hell much longer than he would have if I hadn't lost it.ö

"Buffy, you have to learn to live with it.ö Willows voice was cautious,
her expression telling Buffy that she would fix it for her if she could.
ôYou can't know the right answer all the time.ö Willow watched Buffy
carefully, not wanting to say too much and push Buffy away again. ô Now,
Oz is going to be playing soon. Willow straightened her small frame and
tried to look sternly at Buffy. ôSo lets lighten up and have fun."

Saluting her, Buffy smiled, "Yes, Sir. Having fun, sir."

Giggling at Buffy's joke Willow turned towards the stage as Oz's band
started setting up. Catching his eye she motioned towards Buffy and
flashed a huge smile at him. He blew her a kiss before turning back to
the band. Bouncing around in her seat to grin at Buffy, Willow froze as
she saw Xander and Cordelia entering the Bronze. She sat there looking
like a deer caught in the head lights until Buffy turned to see what was
freezing her.

Cordelia saw them before Xander did, her face falling as her shoulder's
stiffened. She turned to Xander, grabbing his arm and saying, "We could
go see a movie?"

He started at her like she had asked him to go to the moon, "You were
the one who said you needed to dance. So we're here and we'll dance."

He started to walk towards the dance floor then stopped as he saw the
two girls staring at him. His face suddenly tense he looked at Cordelia
for reassurance. Smiling at him she walked over to where Buffy and
Willow sat. Staring at Buffy and Willow with a warning in her eyes she
spoke to them. "Buffy, Willow, how nice to see you. Is Oz playing
tonight?"

"Um..yes." Willow replied, her voice nervous as she waited to see the
SlayerÆs reaction.

Buffy and Xander stared at each other silently for a long minute,
Xander's face red and the pulse in Buffy's neck jumping. Then Buffy
smiled cautiously, her voice stiff, "You guys should sit with us. We've
got much catching up to do."

Xander let out a shaky breath and moved to sit down, ignoring Cordelia's
glances at the stool in front of her.  Willow and Buffy smiled at each
other as Cordelia pulled her stool out herself and glared at Xander.
"Nice manners, Xander."

"What...oh...sorry." Xander said,  looking perplexed as Buffy and Willow
smiled knowingly at each other.

After sitting in an uncomfortable silence for a while, they began
speaking slowly, friends who havenÆt seen each other for a couple
lifetimes. Xander made fun of CordieÆs shopping addiction and Willow
bragged about her new computer.  They even laughed a few times. stilted
laughter that became more relaxed as the night went on.

Cordelia leaned against XanderÆs shoulder as they talked, her expression
wistful. ôI wish school wasnÆt starting again so soon. This summer was
such a bust.ö

As soon as the words left her mouth XanderÆs hand covered it. Shaking
his head at her he looked to see BuffyÆs reaction.  Her face suddenly
serious she straightened her shoulders and hid the hurt in her eyes.
Speaking lightly she brushed off the issue. ôWhat? Like I had time for
school anyway. Plus, I mean, I had a rough summer. I sent my boyfriend
to Hell and went crazy. Who needs school after that?ö

Grinning at her Xander retorted, ôSee, you get all the breaks when
youÆre the Slayer. I went to Hell and I still have to go.  I think the
slayeretteÆs get a bad deal.ö

Laughing at XanderÆs words Cordelia chimed in with, ôI agree, I mean I
fell in love with Xander. ShouldnÆt I be considered crazy too?ö

They all sat at the table, truly laughing for the first time in a long
time when Willow chimed in with, ôWell, I gave Oz a gold star.ö

Cordelia and Xander stared at her like she was insane while Buffy lay
her head on the table laughing helplessly.

Standing hidden in the shadows Angel turned to the man beside him.
ôSheÆs laughing again.ö His voice was filled with wonder.

ôYeah, your girl, she sure recovers fast. It wasnÆt a week ago that she
was screaming in graveyards. Makes you wonder?ö Whistler spoke
flippantly, trying to cover the anger in his words.

ôWhat are you saying?ö AngelÆs voice was defensive.

Shrugging the demon looked from the group of teen-agers to the vampire
who stood beside him with his eyes glued to the Slayer. Turning back to
the group he answered casually. ôI just thought maybe sheÆd feel a
little guilty still.ö

Angel turned to Whistler his voice angry, ôShe shouldn't feel guilty.
She did nothing wrong."

Whistler raised his eyebrows at him, speaking in a voice that was tinted
with anger, "Really? You could have been out sooner if we could have
found her."

Glaring at him Angel spoke in a low voice, "Don't ever say anything like
that again. You and I had a choice about this, she didn't. She never got
a choice. We should be happy that she even does this. She's only 17. And
she feels guilt, more guilt than she deserves."

ôTouchy, touchy.  I wasnÆt saying she wasnÆt a great girl, I just...ö

ôDonÆt. DonÆt say anything else.ö Turning away from the four teenagers
he moved towards the door. "LetÆs just get out of here. WeÆve got a lot
to do."

"Well, you were the one who had to spend tonight watching your Slayer. I
would have left as soon as the sun had set." Whistler followed him, his
step hurried to keep up with AngelÆs long strides.

ôI needed to know she was okay.ö Stopping suddenly, causing Whistler to
walk into his back Angel turned towards Buffy once more. His face
worried he spoke cautiously, "Should I do this? Come back to her? What
if I hurt her again?"

Shaking his head the man answered him, "You wonÆt. IÆve got people
looking into the curse. I donÆt think it has a happy-clause. And anyway,
didnÆt she promise?"

AngelÆs face was sad as he replied, "That would help me, but it would
still hurt her."

Whistler shook his head in annoyance. "You worry too much. ItÆs not your
best trait."

"I donÆt worry too much. If I did none of this would have happened."
Angel spoke in a loud whisper, his voice stiff. "I just donÆt want to
hurt her any more." Angel stood quietly staring towards Buffy, his
expression wistful.

Looking towards the door Whistler tried to move past the vampire towards
it. "Well then shouldnÆt we get going? None of this is going to get
fixed with us standing here. If we want any chance of doing this your
way..."

"We have to go now. I know." Angel closed his eyes as a wave of pain
crossed it then stared wistfully at the group sitting at the table.
"She's amazing isn't she?" His voice was soft with love.

Taking Angel's arm he pulled him towards the door. "Yup. But had I known
when I met a stinky, starving vampire with a soul that all this would
happen I would have taken a vacation instead."

"Liar. You like being the new cryptic guy."

Whistler smiled at him as they walked out of the Bronze, "Come on then,
lets see if we can fix this mess up so you can get back to your Slayer."

***********




______________________________________________________
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------------------------------

Date: Fri, 14 Aug 1998 12:20:04 -0700
From: [e-mail] (Charity C. T.)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Cursed (3/?)

TITLE: Cursed #3 The Options of Death
AUTHOR: Taygeta
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK:  Very muchly wanted (bad or good...whatever the complaint)
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just tell me first.
RATING: PG
KEYWORDS: Buffy/Angel
DESCRIPTION: Someone's out to kill Angel...it's a whole Curse thing...
DISCLAIMER:  The characters portrayed in this fanfic and any such
reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series belong to their
creator, Joss Whedon, and their owners, Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui
Productions, Sanddollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox. In other
words, they do not belong to me.  Copyright infringement not intended.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Cursed
#3 The Options of Death
Idea by: Slayer01
Story by: Taygeta

    "LookàI'm not who you think I amà" Angel tried as he backed away
from Leifa warily.

    "I know who you areàI've been trained for too long not to," she
said, "Nowàare we going to stand here and talk until sun up and have you
die that way, or are we going to fight?"

    "Can we sayàneither?"  Buffy said from behind her.

    Leifa turned around and eyed the petite blonde that had arrived
critically, "Who are you?"

    "I could ask you the same, but figuring that you're trying to
kill my boyfriendàI don't really think it matters," she replied and
continued with a shrug, "But if intros are your thing, I'm Buffyàthe
vampire slayer."

    "Leifa Tidier," she said simply, "Vampire Slayer, huh?  I've
heard about your kind, but I've never heard of one being in love with a
vampireàyou do realize that he's a vampire, right?"

    "Is the word, STUPID, stamped on my forehead?"  Buffy replied as
she rolled her eyes, "Of course I know that he's a vampire, but no matter
what you think you know, he's not a baddy."

    A frown wrinkled her forehead, "A what?"

    "Y'know of the badàbad guyànon-cursed vampire?" she explained
with a sigh.

    The girl looked at her and then glanced at Angel and backed away,
"FineàI'll leave him aloneàfor nowà" and with that, she left as quickly
as she had come.

    As they watched her disappear into the night, Buffy turned to
Angel and said, "I'm guessing not a disgruntled ex-girlfriend?"

     "It's not a joking matter, Buffyàshe's been cursed to kill me,
or die tryingàI've been able to avoid them up until now, but I've guessed
that I've stayed put too long," he said as they began to walk to his
apartment.

    "Rewind and rephrase, please, because I'm not getting this and
I'd like to get why someone's got bounty on you," she said.

    "Years before, when I was Angelus, I entered the home of a family
that lived in the Hykalr Societyàdescendents of gypsies, some of who
retained their magical powers, and for what I know, still have most of
them, today.  I stayed with the Tidier family, and back then trust was a
big factor of life for the Society, and they trusted almost everyone
until after I came along.  I arrived late in the night, and any person
would have been wary to accept me, but like I said, trust.  They were
suspicious when I wouldn't eat and came out of my room only at night, but
they respected privacy and didn't question my actions.  Then, one day a
member of the Rtyira family, Mishala Rtyira, came to the Tidier
homeàseeking for a husband.  Back then, to be seventeen in Hykalr Society
and unwed, was at the brink of being an old maid."

    "And obviously this Mishala girl had heard of the dark,
mysterious hunk staying with the family across the way," interjected
Buffy with a slight smile, "Sorry, go onà"

     Angel grinned lightly, but his face grew somber, "Yes, Mishala
came to visit meàand back then the Rtyira were the strongest magicians in
the Society.  That and the fact that she wasn't the nicest girl opted her
to be desperate for a husband for fear of embarrassing her family.  I
talked to her, walked with heràpretended I cared, and then when we were
far enough, I killed her.  I had got what I wanted, the blood of
magicàand so I left without a word.  From what I heard of the first
Tidier that came to me, they had realized I had killed Mishala and her
family blamed it on the Tidiers, and as a result, they were cursed.  The
first child of the main lineage was hexed to try and kill me and when
they diedàthe next was called, and so on.  When I was evil, I killed like
they were nothing, but once I got cursed, I just ran away, even though I
knew that they would suffer the curse's consequences for those that
didn't fulfill it."

    "And what were the consequences?"  Buffy asked.

    He closed his eyes and looked away from her, "To go stark raving
mad."

    "Oh my Godàthat girlàif she doesn't - " she said under her
breath, "Well we can't let it happenà"

    "No, we can't, but the only way to break the Tidiers from the
curse is if I die, but I came to a point in my life when I told them to
kill meàtold them go ahead and put me out of my misery, and they
couldn't.  One after the other, no matter how much I pleaded at them to
get rid of me; they couldn't kill meàthey'd rather have gone mad than
kill someone who was innocent.  She's the first of the them that I have
met in a long while, that doesn't know that I have soulàthat I've also
been cursed."

    "So what are you going to do, Angel?" she asked, "Because I
personally would like you alive and that Leifa Tidier to not go Looney
Tunes."

    "I'd like that too, but I don't know if that's possible," he
said, "Either I'm going to die or she's going to lose her mindàyou heard
the prophecyàthat's the definitive line."

    Hiding beneath the trees as she followed them, Leifa heard her
heart beating hard beneath her chest and she realized that killing him
was not an option anymore.  She couldn't kill him, despite what a normal
life meant for heràshe would killing someone who had nothing to claim for
in the past, but a demon that was not of his control, but if she didn't
kill him, what was left?  Only one thing was left, a life spent spiraling
into a dark abyss where her mind would be lossàher control would be loss,
where in the eventual she would probably do as her ancestors before her
had done.  A knife to the throat or a gun barrel to their own heads in
order to end it all.  She didn't want to end it allàshe didn't want to
lose her mind and by doing that lose her lifeàshe wanted to live, but as
it was, she was going to dieà

_____________________________________________________________________
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------------------------------

Date: Fri, 14 Aug 1998 23:30:18 EDT
From: <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Faith" -- "Part Six: Stepping on Sparks" (6/9)

See part one for notes, disclaimers, and so on. Comments (good and bad) to
[e-mail], please, and the same goes for missing-pieces requests.

~

                 "Part Six: Stepping on Sparks"

     She had expected it to be hot. She had expected to burn. To
feel the searing hatred of everything she had ever touched as it
streamed past her. Or perhaps she had expected fire and brimstone,
the sort of Hell that crept up from the dark crevices of the human
psyche. Perhaps a gathering of demons would have been more in
accordance with what Buffy had expected to encounter in the Hell
Angelus had sent her to.
     Whatever her expectations had been, she realized within half
a breath that they were far from about to be met. Instead of
externally inflicted pain, all she felt was a dull ache in her
chest and the stagnant touch of unmoving air all around her.
     More acutely she felt the searing sensation of harsh, sterile
white light, enfolding and surrounding her. Coming directly toward
her from all angles.
     "Buffy?" she heard someone whisper from behind her.
     She turned immediately, taking an immediate step back when she
saw who stood at her side.
     "Willow," she said softly.
     The red-haired teen nodded, a bright smile crossing her face.
"Are you alright?" she asked. "Do you need help?"
     Buffy shook her head. "No," she said softly. "No help."
     "You need my help," Willow said, reaching forward at the same
time Buffy shied away. "Buffy," she said insistently, "let me
_help_!"
     "_No_!" Buffy shouted, pulling away. "I can't do this! Not to
you, not to anybody, I won't be responsible for destroying any more
lives!"
     For a few seconds, there was a silence between them. Then it
began to draw itself out, almost of its own volition, as if the
lack of noise was something that had suddenly gained a sentience of
its own.
     "It's my fault," Buffy whispered when the silence began to
threaten to overwhelm her.
     Before her Willow gave a slight smile. "No it's not," she
said, her tone almost one of encouragement.
     "Yes it is," Buffy said, feeling her throat constricting and
her breath become slightly more labored. "I hurt you," she said
softly. "All of you. This never would have happened if it wasn't
for me."
     "You never asked for the responsibility," Willow pointed out,
taking a step toward her, reaching out.
     Buffy flinched away and shook her head. "That doesn't matter,"
she said, her voice soft. "It just...doesn't matter. It's mine.
It's not a choice I have, it's something that has to be done, I'm
the only one who can do it."
     "You're destroying yourself."
     "Then maybe I should make way for somebody else to take over."
     A slight chuckle from her companion, and Buffy's eyes drifted
toward the floor.
     "You give yourself too much credit," Willow said quietly.
     Buffy glanced up. "What?" she asked.
     "Everyone feels pain. Everyone hurts. Everyone dies." She
shook her head. "All we can ask for is to find people along our
paths to help us make it through the hardships that fate throws in
our way."
     "But--"
     Willow shook her head, reaching out to touch Buffy's cheek
gently with her fingertips. Buffy fell silent at the gesture, and
this time did nothing to move away.
     "There are others who need your explanations," the red-haired
teen, or at least her facsimile, said.
     "Who...?" Buffy asked, her voice trembling with the words.
     Willow shook her head. "Look for light in darkness," she
whispered, something flashing deep within her eyes as she faded
from sight and Buffy realized that once more, she was alone.
     A few seconds later, she realized that the ache in her stomach
had intensified. But at this point she hardly cared, and instead of
moving forward Buffy allowed herself to sink to the floor, arms
wrapped tightly around herself, sobs wracking her body as the
memory of Willow's all-too-forgiving touch melted away to nothing.
                                *
     "Wake her up," Angel said softly, glancing at Sef.
     The Garou shook his head, his eyes on his herbs and medicinal
tools, not going near the young Slayer. "No," he said. "She is far
from ready."
     Angel winced as Buffy's muscles tightened, and her chest began
to rise and fall in short, gasping breaths. "I didn't think it
would be like this," he whispered.
     The Garou dreamwalker turned back to him, anger blazing in his
yellow eyes. "And what did you think, Childe of Cain?" he asked,
standing and walking toward the vampire. "That it would be simple?
Like the medications the humans use? Electroshock therapy,
perhaps?"
     Angel shook his head. "No," he said. "But I didn't want her to
hurt..."
     "It takes pain to alleviate pain," Sef said as small cries
came from Buffy's lips. Still, he didn't look at her, his eyes
instead focused on Angel. "When they feel pain, their nerves are
trying to reroute the damage. It is the same with the tears in her
soul. She must walk through them, around them, experience them. She
must find the best way to survive with it."
     "I don't _want_ her to have to live with it!" Angel shouted,
the emotions too much for him to control. "I want her to be _happy_
again!"
     His lips curling back in something akin to a cruel smile, Sef
shook his head. "She would be someone else," he said. "Someone you
didn't know."
     Angel looked at him, shaking his head. "No," he said. "She'd
be the Buffy I fell in love with."
     With a cold laugh, Sef shook his head, walking back to his
medicines and herbs. "She was never happy when you fell in love
with her," Angel thought he heard the wolf-man murmur as he turned
away, but the roar of the fire in the corner of the cave was too
loud for him to be certain.
                                *
     "They used to slaughter people as weak as you are," he said
from somewhere above her. "Leave them out on hillsides to die. They
did that with a lot of girl babies, too. Useless. Just like you.
Buff, you think if we left you out on a hillside somewhere, you'd
die?"
     Suddenly, a hand reached down and yanked her up, nearly
jerking her shoulder from its socket. Buffy felt her breath catch
in her throat as her head was knocked against the wall of the room
Willow had left her in.
     "Come on, lover," he hissed at her. "Just say it. You're weak.
You give up."
     She didn't have the will to fight him on either count. "Leave
me alone," she whispered. "You win, you've always won, you've won
every time."
     "Not good enough," he snarled, moving a step closer, shaking
his head. "I already know I'm the shit, Buff, so now what I want
you to admit is that you _are_ shit-- in my world, your world, and
any other world that happens to pop into existence."
     Offering barely any struggle, Buffy remained silent.
     "You know what this is?" Angelus asked, moving so that his
face was only centimeters from her own. "This is _pathetic_." He
shook her hard, once. "That you're in here, you're crying, you're
letting that little red-headed bitch get to you and you can't even
make yourself admit it!" He shifted his weight slightly so he was
pressing her up against the wall with not only his arms, but his
entire body. Buffy felt a shudder of disgust, sick and violent, run
through her body. He laughed at that, shaking his head and running
his hands up her arms, then jerking her neck so she had no choice
but to look straight at him. "Why do I even bother with you?" he
asked. When she said nothing, he shook her and shouted into her
face, "_Well_?"
     Buffy didn't answer, letting her eyes fall shut instead.
Through the darkness, she felt Angelus' weight suddenly move again,
his cold fingers wrapping themselves around her arms, and then
suddenly the wall was no longer at her back and he had cast her
down on the floor. She didn't open her eyes until she had hit the
hard ground, and then only to look at the floor.
     Her hair trailed in her eyes, dirty and stinking of the
street. Beneath her fingers, which were suddenly chapped and
cracked, there was dirt and grime, and cement. Her clothes, wet
from the rain, had plastered themselves to her body. From the
periphery of her vision, something caught her eye. The glint of
steel, shining in the moonlight.
     She felt her breath catch in her throat. Not here. Not
tonight. Not like this. Not back to this. Not to the weak thing she
had been when she had lost all hope, when she'd been unable to stop
herself from spending her last few dollars on a couple razors from
a shooter, a boy a few years younger than herself who had been more
than happy to take the money.
     She smelled like death, Buffy realized. She smelled like a
rotting corpse, and she didn't want to die.
     She didn't have a choice, she realized as she reached out,
picking the razor up and holding it in the moonlight.
     So weak, she thought, almost abstractly. Watching her body
move, having no control over the actions. She was the spectre now,
a viewer as someone she no longer was took the razor and placed it
on her wrist. And more than worrying about the way the razor
tickled her flesh, she worried about what she knew what was coming
next.
     A hand fell on her arm, suddenly and sharply.
     "_Buffy_!" he screamed.
     At the voice, the sobs broke loose, and her knees buckled. She
felt herself sink into him, the yielding body of the man who would
tell her later how much he had missed her, that he loved her, that
he had never wanted her to hurt like that, and how could she have
even thought of doing such a thing, didn't she know how upset
everyone who cared about her had been, and yes, they still all
cared about her, no one hated her, they wanted her to come home, he
wanted her to come back, he didn't blame her, he loved her, he
always would.
     "Buffy," Angel whispered, for now content to just hold her,
pull her close, kiss the hair she hadn't washed for weeks. Content
just with the closeness.
     Her body betrayed her, and despite the protests she made to
herself, Buffy could feel herself melting against him as he
whispered her name over and over, stroking her hair with one arm as
the other wound itself around her waist and pulled her as close as
they could come without becoming one being in fact, as well as
spirit.
     "I'm sorry," she heard herself saying, "I'm sorry, I'm
sorry..."
     "Shhh," Angel soothed, shaking his head. "It's alright. Thank
God I found you in time, thank God you're alright..."
     And though she wanted to protest, wanted to tell him she
wasn't alright and that things would never be alright again, Buffy
could find no strength but what it took to let him hold her.
                                *
     "What-- what's going on?" Angel asked hesitantly, glancing at
Sef as Buffy's sobs, which had intensified only a few seconds
earlier, suddenly shifted and became shallow breaths.
     There was no answer from the Garou.
     Alarm rising in his chest, Angel took a step toward the
Slayer, reaching out to put a hand on her arm. "Buffy?" he
whispered.
     There was no response. Angel swallowed, then looked back at
the dreamwalker. Sef was still engaged in the ritual-- another
break in events must not have come yet. Softly, Angel swore, then
glanced back toward the doorway. Giles had been here earlier. Angel
had heard shouting outside the room where he and Sef were trying to
heal Buffy. Giles' shouting. Laisa, Quirin...his extra-sensitive
hearing had compensated for the thick rock walls of the caverns.
     Giles. He had to talk to Giles. Explain what had happened.
Pray the Watcher might forgive him for this, for taking the offer
of help when the Garou had made it.
     He glanced back at Buffy and Sef, but neither paid him any
attention. Buffy, because she was unconscious. Sef, because he was
in the herbally-induced trance of a dreamwalker, existing only
mentally, and then only on some plane between this one and the one
Buffy was caught in. Existing alongside her, guiding events as
carefully as he could. Taking the Slayer past her fears, past her
pain.
     Shaking his head, turning away from the scene, Angel pushed
open the heavy door of the room and moved into the outer room,
catching the eye of a few of the younger Garou. "Where's the
Watcher?" he asked.
     One of them pointed the way, and Angel walked quickly past the
group, through a few dozen feet of cave tunnels, until he reached
a heavy door. Taking a breath, he pushed it open.
     "Giles?" he asked softly.
     "You." The voice was bitter. Icy. As cold as any Angel had
ever heard, and over his lifetime he had been given quite a few
brush-offs.
     "Yeah," he said softly, moving into the room, pulling the door
shut with a soft _click_ behind himself. He turned to Giles, not
meeting eyes with the Watcher, keeping his gaze trained firmly on
the floor. He didn't want to see the kind of hatred that would be
in the other man's eyes, if the tone of his voice was any sort of
measure.
     "Look at me, damn you," Giles snapped harshly, his tone full
of disgust and anger.
     Slowly, Angel forced his gaze upward-- and met with not only
all the anger and hatred he had expected, but more. Immediately, he
moved to apologize.
     Giles cut him off, his voice full of ice. "This is your fault,
isn't it. Don't-- don't answer. I don't want to hear your voice."
He paused, then shook his head. "So help me, but if anything
happens to her--"
     "If anything happens to her, I won't be around long enough for
you to do anything," Angel broke in gently, softly. His throat
ached at merely speaking, but he did so anyway. "I didn't know it
would be like this."
     "What were you _expecting_?" Giles demanded, in an uncanny
echo of Sef's earlier words. "A healing ritual isn't all sunshine
and-- and _lollipops_, especially not when done by a society that
feels pain is beneficial and strengthens the soul and body!"
     "I didn't _know_!" Angel protested. "I thought it would help
her!" He swallowed, shaking his head, trying to find the words to
tell Giles how sorry he was, how much he wished he had simply
brought Buffy home and then left again. "I didn't think, and that
was stupid of me. But Sef says she'll be alright, if he has enough
time."
     "How reassuring." The tone was chillingly even.
     Staring at the Watcher, barely able to keep his eyes level
with Giles', Angel finally gave up and shook his head. "I'm sorry,"
he said quietly. "That's all there is for me to say anymore. But
I..." He shook his head. "I love her, Giles. I can't watch her
being in pain and not letting me help her."
     "It would help her a touch more if you'd listen to her wishes
and leave her alone."
     "You don't believe that!" Angel exclaimed, shaking his head
and stepping close to the other man. "You don't-- you _can't_
believe that, you've said so to me, to Willow, you've said you
think if she would just open up, just trust me again, it would be
okay again!"
     "I believe my exact words were more that if she would trust
_anyone_ again, she might begin her recovery." The Watcher shook
his head, his eyes narrowing. "But I wonder if it isn't something
you tore away from her, the ability to trust."
     The words cut through him, and Angel shook his head. "I didn't
mean to hurt her."
     At that, Giles' expression softened slightly, and he sighed.
"Intent was never an issue," he said quietly.
     In the time it took for a few seconds to pass, Angel realized
that was all the Watcher had to say. All his intentions, everything
he had come here meaning to say, had fled his mind, and he shook
his head. "I'll let you know when she wakes up," he murmured softly
as he turned and walked out of the room.

~

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