22. Hard Decisions
Much thanx to my wonderful beta,
Eowyn315!!!! :)
"I want to go home. Xander's going to walk me," Willow announced,
stepping out of the kitchen with her best friend right behind her. Her
eyes were red and bleary, and her cheeks tear-stained, but she seemed
to have regained some of her composure.
"Will, please, don't," Buffy objected, an apologetic sound to her
voice. "I'm so sorry -- and Angel's gone now, you don't have to..."
"I *want* to go home," Willow repeated, not quite meeting the Slayer's
eyes as she headed toward the door. "I don't care if he's here or not
right now, Buffy. I just -- don't want to be here."
Buffy looked as if she was about to try again to convince her friend to
stay, but Xander stepped very deliberately into her way, walking
protectively behind Willow as the redhead opened the door. Then, before
anyone could voice any further protest, without a word to anyone, he
followed her out and closed the door behind them.
No one spoke for a long moment, as Buffy visibly struggled to maintain
her composure. Finally, she turned and faced the vampire still bound to
the chair, a cool, carefully controlled expression on her face.
"So, go ahead. Talk. Tell me -- besides my best friend's freak-out
session -- why I shouldn't let my boyfriend in -- why he's so
*dangerous*!" The Slayer's tone was deadly, her voice trembling with
fury -- and a good bit of fear as well, Spike would have wagered,
though she was clearly doing her best to hide it.
"Unless you do something to change it, Slayer," he insisted, his voice
quiet but unyielding in the face of her anger, "he's going to destroy
you, and everyone around you."
"You keep saying that, but how? How is that possible? Angel has his
soul back, so why would he want to hurt me? *Us*?" Buffy protested, her
anger giving a bit of ground to a vulnerable, uncertain tone, just
below the surface of her words.
"He can't help it, *Slayer*," Spike replied pointedly, using the word
to remind her of his meaning. "It's in his soddin' nature to want to
hurt you. And the only reason he's ever done any differently is so he
can get what he wants."
"What does he want?" Giles asked in a quiet voice, his brow creased in
a pensive frown as he took a step toward the blond vampire, though his
manner spoke more of intense interest than of any kind of threat.
Spike shrugged slightly, considering the answer for a moment before
suggesting, "Recognition? Accolades? Hard to say. Most likely, just to
play the big hero. To get the glory and all that comes with being one
of the bloody White Hats. I don't think he really cares all that much
about actually *being* good, truth be told...just *looking* good."
Buffy frowned, shaking her head in protest. "He has a soul -- a
conscience. That makes people want to be good..."
"Some people more than others, though, Slayer," Spike reminded her
grimly. His piercing blue eyes bored into hers, as he added in a slow,
deliberate tone, "Some...less."
"He's right, you know," Giles spoke up, and Buffy turned toward him in
surprise and dismay. "While the lack of a soul does tend to rule out
the possibility of being 'good' with no ulterior motives, the
*presence* of a soul by no means guarantees that a person *will* be
good. There are countless examples of human beings who have committed
heinous atrocities, while in full possession of their souls."
"But...but...no. Not Angel," Buffy objected, shaking her head in denial of
what they were telling her. "Angel loves me. The only reason he said
those things was because he didn't have his soul. He *loves* me."
"*Loved* you. Past tense," Spike remarked flatly. "As in, he doesn't
now. When you lot gave him back his soul...you gave him back the *wrong*
soul."
At his first words, Buffy moved toward him, clearly furious, but his
last statement stopped her in her tracks. She frowned in confusion.
"Wait -- *what*? Are you saying the soul he has now isn't his? Is that
what makes things go wrong later on?" There was a desperately hopeful
note in her voice.
Spike could not let it remain, as much as he might have liked to. "No.
This spell you just did gave him back his original soul. For the first
time in a couple of centuries."
"What exactly are you saying, Spike?" Giles was beginning to sound more
than a little impatient, though his eyes still held a gleam of
fascination.
"I'm talking about the bloody curse, the one that gave Angelus a soul
in the first place. Fact of the matter is, the man Angelus was before
he was turned wasn't so bleedin' interested in the wellbeing of his
fellow man. He was more interested in as much shaggin' and boozin' as
he could get his filthy little hands on." Spike paused, allowing his
words to sink in before explaining further, "Wouldn't have been much of
a punishment, giving Angelus back his own soul. Wouldn't have caused
him much suffering at all. He'd have just lost himself in the drink to
escape it, and gone back to his old ways, though possibly without the
torture and killing."
The Watcher's eyes widened incredulously, as he realized what Spike was
telling them. Still, he could not help but ask, scarcely able to
believe it. "Are you saying that the Gypsy curse on Angelus gave him --
*someone else's soul*?"
Spike nodded once without hesitation, his eyes solemn and intent,
unflinching as he met the Watcher's questioning gaze. "Yes."
"But -- but that's ridiculous," Buffy objected. "That's not even
possible..."
"You've lived on a bloody Hellmouth for *how* long now?" Spike cut her
off. "*Anything's* possible, Slayer."
"But -- but that's not fair! Whose -- whose soul was it?"
"That bit, I don't know, Slayer. In the future I saw, I didn't figure
it out for a while -- all I know is that the spell you lot just did on
him returned his original soul to him -- and not with the same
conditions as the last one, either..."
"Okay -- this is getting confusing," Buffy muttered. "Not that I'm even
sure I believe any of this, anyway," she added petulantly.
"Believe it, Slayer," Spike snapped, his tone dark and warning.
"Because if you don't, nothing I can say can help you."
After a moment's tense silence, he added in a slightly milder tone,
"It's really quite simple. Angelus was given a soul that doesn't much
care for the big, broody guilt trip he's been on for the past century –
and one that doesn't care how happy he gets, either. It's most likely
there for good this time -- not that it makes that much difference,
anyway. He's going to go bad, Slayer, very bad -- and he's not going to
have to lose his soul to do it."
"Wait...what are you saying about – how happy Angel might get?" Giles
echoed, holding up a hand to stop the vampire's explanation. "What do
you mean? What does Angel's happiness have to do with anything?"
The Watcher's interest in the answer kept him from noticing the pale,
trapped expressions on the faces of the other two people in the room.
Buffy looked positively sick at the thought of her worst fears being
confirmed, and the Gypsy teacher was simply silent, standing a bit
apart from the others, as if she really wanted to flee the room -- and
Spike's words -- completely.
Spike noticed both reactions, but chose not to call attention to either
for the moment.
He answered the question quietly. "The original curse on Angel was
meant to cause him eternal suffering. But there was an out. If he ever
experienced a moment of true happiness, even once, the soul would be
taken from him, and he'd return to his soulless self."
"But..." Giles spoke after a long, heavy moment of silence, apparently
unaware of the intense discomfort reflected on the faces of the two
women in the room. "But that doesn't make logical sense! Why on earth
would the Gypsies leave such a -- a loophole in the curse? Why would
they allow him to escape his punishment so easily?"
"Oh, I don't expect it was easy, Watcher," Spike remarked, with a quiet
huff of laughter. "The guilt the soul caused him was so extreme, I'd
wager they didn't think anything could ever make him completely happy
with that soul in place. I think it must have taken something bloody
intense -- a moment of happiness so complete that it made him forget
everything else for that moment -- to make that broody soul he had tied
to him forget all his past sins and go fluttering off into the ether,
or what-soddin'-ever."
The last bit was spoken with flippant contempt at the concept, but
Spike's eyes were focused very seriously on the Slayer's face.
Her mouth was working with some repressed emotion, her jaw set in
stubborn refusal to face what he was getting at, while her eyes blazed
defiantly, furiously, into his.
Suddenly, Spike began to question the wisdom of coming so near to
outing the Slayer's secret in front of her Watcher. He glanced down
with alarm at her clenched fists at her sides, opening and closing
reflexively, before returning his eyes to hers, adding slowly and
cautiously, "But then...that's just my best guess...I really wouldn't know..."
He saw the flicker of surprise in the Slayer's eyes, followed by a sort
of wary relief, as if she was almost afraid to believe that he was
really not going to say anything more about how Angel had lost his soul
in the first place.
He could have throttled the Watcher when he persisted in a frustrated
tone of voice, "But you *must* know! If you've seen the future, then at
some point we must have discovered what caused Angel's reversion. Are
you seriously telling us that we never learned the cause for Angel's
loss of his soul?"
"Well, it's not like a bloody movie in my mind, Watcher!" Spike
objected, a bit defensively. "It's not like I've seen every last
detail. The visions aren't all that specific..."
"No, you stated before that it was somewhat like an open book in your
mind," Giles reminded him, a note of suspicion in his voice. "You said
you could see whatever moment in the future you wanted to see. So,
surely you *must* know..."
"Liar!" the Slayer suddenly interrupted, her voice fierce and menacing
as she moved swiftly between her Watcher and the bound vampire. "I'm
sick and tired of your games, Spike!" As she spoke, she drew back her
hand and delivered a dramatic slap across his face.
And 'dramatic' was definitely the word for it, Spike decided. There was
very little actual force behind the blow, and he realized immediately
that it had only been for show, even before the Slayer tore the chains
from his arms and jerked him up out of the chair.
Glaring at Spike, she told her Watcher, "I'll get him talking, Giles.
Just give me a few minutes alone with him..."
"Buffy," Giles cautioned her, alarm in his voice at his Slayer's sudden
display of temper. "That's hardly necessary..."
"Oh, trust me, Giles...it's necessary," Buffy insisted, and Spike found
that she was terribly convincing, the menace in her voice sending a
shiver down his spine despite the fact that he was almost certain by
this point that she was acting.
Almost.
As she dragged him toward the front door, she assured her Watcher
coolly, "Don't worry, Giles. It's just that you're so *not* gonna wanna
see this!"
She *was* acting -- wasn't she?
"But Buffy," the Watcher protested, and Spike was strangely gratified
by the look of concern in his eyes as he glanced at the vampire, by all
accounts but Buffy's, falsely accused. "What makes you think he's
lying?"
"He's Spike," she shot back, with a bit too much disgust in her voice.
"Isn't that enough?" With those words, she once again headed toward the
door, dragging Spike out and slamming it behind them.
"Buffy..." Giles opened the door for one last attempt at reason.
"Close the door!"
The authority in the girl's voice was all it took to make the older man
obey without further question. As soon as the door was closed behind
them, Buffy released Spike with a shove, already talking before he had
even caught his balance.
"If you try to get away, I will take you down before you get ten feet,
and I will make you *wish* Angelus still had you!"
Spike considered that for a moment, well aware that she was physically
capable of carrying out her threat, considering his somewhat weakened
state. Whether or not she was emotionally willing -- that was a
different matter. He was not sure that she really meant to harm him,
but there was enough doubt in his mind to keep him from attempting to
escape.
Besides, if he was ever going to be able to help her, he was going to
have to gain her trust.
"What's this about, Slayer?" he asked in a quiet, cautious voice. "You
and I both know I wasn't lying in there..." His face took on a faint
smirk as he added, "...maybe that's the problem, yeah? I was getting too
bloody close to the truth?"
"I don't know." Buffy shook her head, her mouth set in a grim line.
When she continued, after a moment, there was a faint note of
desperation in her suddenly softer, almost pleading voice. "But I need
to. I have to know, Spike. What -- what did you see?"
"Well, I was going to say, but..."
"Not to them. Not -- not this. I just need to know...was it me? Did I --
did I make Angel lose his soul?"
**********************************
Willow would have loved for Xander to stay with her when they reached
her house; she really did not want to be alone right now. Her mother's
rules, however, kept him out. She was already late getting home
herself, and there was no way that her mother would allow her to have a
male friend in the house at this time of the night.
So it was that she ended up sitting alone in her room, her mind unable
to focus on anything but the nightmare image it kept replaying, the
lingering feeling of Angelus' body, pinning her down, his hard hand
clamped across her mouth and stifling her screams.
Her best friend coming to her rescue -- and then favoring her attacker
with a kiss.
*Buffy's right,* she tried to tell herself. *It wasn't Angel. He has
his soul back now...it wasn't really his fault...wasn't really even *him*.*
But, as hard as she tried to convince herself, she couldn't quite
manage it.
*You coward,* she accused herself viciously. *You have to face the fact
that Angel's back -- and no one else is going to blame him for anything
Angelus did -- except maybe Xander. But only because he's always hated
him anyway.*
The beginnings of an idea started to form in her head, an idea that
terrified her, but just might be the only way that she could come to
terms with the situation, and get past it enough to go on with her life.
*Decide, Willow. Are you going to be a little baby and lie here and cry
about it like you always do -- or are you going to get up and grow up
and face this like a -- well, a grown up?*
With an uneasy determination, she rose from the bed, pulling on her
shoes and her jacket. Then, she turned off the lights in her room and
arranged some clothes and pillows in her bed to hide her absence from
her mother, should she happen to look in on her again before going to
bed.
Taking a deep, trembling breath, Willow stepped out the door into the
darkness of the night -- and headed purposefully toward Angel's
apartment.