Consciousness came slowly, and not without a fight. Angel felt awful, but at this point that was nothing new. His entire body ached, but he wasn't shaking anymore. His mind felt oddly fuzzy, disoriented. As full wakefulness came, he realized he wasn't starving anymore, either. Had someone fed him while he was unconscious?
With awareness and feeling came other senses. He was lying somewhere warm and soft - not the sterile cot of the last…however long it had been. With nothing changing around him, he had long since lost track of time in the Watchers' cell. But he couldn't have been there anymore. There was a steady rumble of noise around him, and there was a smell in the air completely unlike his cell. It sounded of voices and living heartbeats, smelled of dirt, dust...it smelled of the lower levels, of home. And something else, something that prodded at long repressed memories...familiar and close. Angel opened his eyes.
"About bloody time you woke up."
Spike?!
Angel was instantly, fully awake. He blinked at Spike, wondering for a moment if this whole situation was a hallucination, if he was still lying in the Watchers' cell instead of in this dark unfamiliar room with his own bed and his most annoying progeny smirking at him. Except nothing changed. Spike was still there. The younger vampire's appearance was a bit different from how Angel remembered, but it was unmistakably Spike, and not some figment of his imagination.
Why would he imagine Spike, anyway?
Spike just smirked at him. His hair was a bit longer than it had been centuries ago, and back to its natural brown. He still wore a long, ratty black coat, though Angel doubted it was the one he had seen him in last. His eyes - golden now with time's touch - were filled with mischief.
"Spike?" Angel finally managed, sitting up in bed.
The younger vampire smiled, showing a hint of fang. Aside from the teeth and the eyes he still looked fully human. "You look terrible, Peaches," he said.
Angel just blinked at him. His mind was definitely having trouble catching up with the situation. "What are you doing here?"
"Couldn't pass up the opportunity for some carnage," Spike replied.
Maybe they'd drugged him, or maybe Angel's mind was just waking up slower than the rest of him, because he hadn't the faintest clue what Spike was talking about. "Huh?" Okay, so that wasn't Angel's brightest response ever....
Spike seemed amused by his confusion. "Your friends are getting ready for war," Spike said. "And your Slayer's leading the brigade. But you're probably not up for fighting, what with your 'condition' and all."
Angel couldn't quite get his mind around what was going on. "War?" he asked. "Who...what are they fighting?"
Spike shrugged. "'Forces of darkness' and all that bull, I guess. Don't know specifics. Don't really care, so long as there are enough demons to go around."
Unsteadily, Angel started to get up from the old mattress. He stood, and a wave of weakness made him stifle a moan and brace himself against the bed. It faded after a moment. The pain was still there, but ignorable.
"Don't hurt yourself," Spike mocked.
Angel glared at him. "Why are you here?"
"I told you...."
"No," Angel cut him off. "Why are you here? Pestering me...?"
Spike shrugged. "Maybe I was worried about you."
"I don't believe you."
"Yeah, well...you're right, I could care less what happens to you," he agreed. "But Buffy was worried about you, and she can't hover by your bedside and start a war at the same time, no matter how talented she is."
There was something odd in Spike's voice. "You're doing this for Buffy?" Angel asked.
"Yeah." It was his turn to look flustered. He muttered unhappily, "Centuries, and you two are still the tragic love story of all time. Turns my stomach."
"What the hell are you going on about, Spike?" Angel muttered, one hand going to his now aching head. He was not awake enough for this.
"You!" Spike retorted much too loudly. "You, and Buffy, and this bizarre trick you managed to pull of a bloody reunion now of all times! Centuries, and she still manages to fall in your lap. Yours."
Something clicked in Angel's mind. "You love her." His tone was both shocked and dismayed.
"Why the hell not?!" Spike demanded, instantly defensive. "You did!"
"I do," Angel corrected. "I do love her. And she loves me. And you are a soulless demon."
"You wound me," Spike replied sarcastically. "I did love her."
"And that's why you're here? You think if you fight for her you'll...gain her favor or something?" Angel asked, disgusted.
Spike leaned casually against the wall. "Well, you were unconscious. Thought I had a shot."
Angel growled.
Spike just laughed at him in response. "I told you the truth," he said, sobering and now startlingly serious. "I'm just here for a good fight. I didn't even know you and Buffy were here when I heard someone was recruiting." A mischievous glint returned to his eye. "Not that I mind her being here. And if fighting at her side means that I get on her good side, so much the better. Then, if something happens to you...."
"Spike...." Angel said in warning.
Spike grinned. "I wouldn't worry about it, mate," he teased. His grin faded. "How do you do it?"
Opening the wardrobe next to the bed, Angel barely glanced at Spike. "Do what?" he asked, choosing from the clothes someone had managed to rescue from his previous home.
"You don't think it's...odd that after centuries Buffy still manages to show up and end up with you?" Spike sounded absolutely disbelieving.
"Of course I find it odd," Angel replied. "Miraculous, even."
"I wish I had your luck," Spike muttered.
Angel thought for a second before he spoke again. "I didn't believe it at first. I didn't believe it was her." He glanced at Spike momentarily. "I didn't talk to her for two weeks."
Spike laughed out loud.
"Hey!" Angel tried to defend himself.
"Oh, come on," Spike said. "Only you...."
Angel scowled at him. "I didn't tell you that to mock me."
Spike only laughed harder at that.
"I don't know why I expected something else," Angel muttered. "How have you not been staked by now?"
"I could ask the same of you," Spike said. "You'd think someone would have put you out of your misery long ago."
Angel couldn't help but glare at the younger vampire. "If I leave this room and join the fight with everyone else, will you let me ignore you?"
"Um...no," Spike retorted with a smirk.
"Just stay out of my way," Angel said, heading for the door.
Spike looked at him. "Don't hurt yourself, now," he said sarcastically.
Angel growled, and left the room.
"So this is where the first really strange attack took place?" Buffy asked, leaning over the projected map.
Richard nodded, his hand hovering over the screen. "Yeah," he said, touching one conspicuous red dot. "Drantoklar demons, three of them. They only emerge from hibernation once a century, and never seek each other out, but there they were."
"And off schedule yet?" Tamika put in.
Richard nodded.
"So that explains the red marks," Buffy said calmly. "What are the yellow ones?"
"Other unexplained and really unusual problems," Daneela said. "Psychic attacks. Bizarre possessions…"
"Is there such thing as a normal possession?" Buffy muttered. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Tamika's grin.
"Well, uh…" Daneela stuttered.
Buffy grinned back at her fellow Slayer.
"So, what's the plan, Sam?" she asked after a moment of shared amusement.
"We were kinda hoping…" Daneela began, becoming obviously less certain by the moment.
"What? I'm not plan girl," Buffy explained. "If you give me something to beat up, though, I'm good at that."
Daneela looked more than a bit disappointed, an expression that was mirrored on her boyfriend's face.
A rumble of noise broke Buffy's concentration on the map. Why was everybody whispering? A commotion was stirring among the other people there, those not currently stewing over the recent strange events. Looking up, confused, Buffy spotted him.
"Angel!"
He steps were slow and a little shaky, but he grinned back. It was a little uneasy - probably because so many people were staring at him - but it was a grin nonetheless.
Completely ignoring the brainstorming session, Buffy ran across the stage. He caught her in his arms, and she wrapped her own around him in return. She lightened up slightly when she caught a brief grimace of pain on his face, but refused to let go. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Buffy would have none of it. Without a moment's hesitation, she kissed him. After a startled moment, he returned the gesture.
"Oh, give me a break."
Buffy broke off, chuckling slightly. Spike stood just a couple of feet behind Angel, emerging from the backstage area. His expression was one of exaggerated disgust.
"Ignore him, and maybe he'll go away," Angel muttered, his lips still just a hair's breadth from Buffy's.
But Spike wasn't their only audience, Buffy abruptly remembered. She pulled away slightly to the chuckles of some of the self-proclaimed demon hunters. Still, she could not take her eyes off of Angel. "You're awake," she said, in a voice barely above a sigh.
"Yeah," Angel replied just as softly. Then, louder, "What's everyone looking at?"
Buffy glanced beyond him for a second. They were quite obviously the center of attention. "You, I think."
"Me?"
Buffy grinned. "Hadn't you heard? You're the local hero."
Angel frowned slightly. "I hadn't heard. What's really going on, Buffy?"
Buffy took his hand, leading him over to the planning session. "Long story," she said as she walked. "But it's pretty bad."
"So I got from Spike."
"How are you feeling?" Buffy asked abruptly. Sure, he was up and around, but that didn't mean he was better.
Angel gave her a small smile. "You're changing the subject."
"There was a subject?" Buffy shot right back. "No more talk of wars until you tell me how you're feeling."
Angel's smile disappeared. "So you are getting ready for war."
Buffy tried to glare at him, but couldn't quite manage it. Still… "Not until you tell me how you're feeling."
He nodded at last. "Better. Not perfect, but not starving. Better." His smile returned slightly. "And glad to be out of there."
Buffy returned the smile this time. "You're not the only one." Without another word, she led him back to the temporary planning table.
"Buffy?" Angel prompted again. "Are you going to tell me what's going on or not?"
She could not help but sigh at his stubbornness. "I…we don't know exactly what's going on. There have been all sorts of weird attacks, apparently." She paused, gesturing to a chair next to the map table. "Sit."
Angel did as she asked without comment. It was not, however, without greater than usual caution, or without a wince that he tried to hide. Buffy chose not to comment.
"They thought it might be a Hellmouth," she said. "A new one, just forming. But…there's something different. Or so they tell me." She turned her attention back to the others at the table, all watching the two of them intently.
"What?" Buffy asked, a touch defensively.
"There, got it!" The technician, silent until now, caught everyone's attention with his outburst.
"Everything?" Richard asked intently.
Hasna, who had been leaning over the technician's shoulder, nodded. "We added everything in my extra files," she said. "All of the cases that match the ones you've already noticed, going back two months."
"This has been going on for two months?" Daneela asked, her voice laced with concern.
Hasna nodded. "Unfortunately. At least, that's how far back similar cases from the clinic go."
"Something tells me I don't want to see this," Richard muttered to himself.
Through it all, Angel leaned back in his chair and watched. A cup of blood, discreetly handed to him by one of Hasna's assistants, sat conspicuously untouched beside him. As he, and everyone else, watched, the new data came into view on the map with a flood of tiny red and yellow dots.
"Is there a pattern?" Hasna asked, making her way over to the table.
"A concentration at least," Daneela replied. "Pretty centrally located around…."
Daneela's voice faded out as she looked closer. Hasna leaned in and frowned.
"What?" Buffy asked urgently. "Come one, what is it, guys? You know this area better than I do. I'm just seeing pretty lights."
"You know this area, Buffy," Angel said when no one else answered.
After a moment, Hasna nodded. "He's right. But I know it best of all."
Buffy looked at the group of frowning faces with dawning comprehension.
"Nu-uh," she said vehemently, catching on. "There is no way I am going back there."
Smack dab in the center of the demon attacks, possessions, and apparitions…was the Watchers' Council headquarters.
"If there was any other choice…"
"Can't we just fix things from here?" Buffy asked. Her tone was a touch plaintative.
"From here, we don't even know what the threat is," Hasna said slowly. "You're the Slayer, Buffy. This is why we need you."
"Buffy," Angel said, his voice firm, "we need to go back. We need to find out what's going on."
"No!" There was no way she was letting Angel within a mile of that place again. "I'm not letting you back there. Besides, you're still not okay. You said so yourself."
But Buffy knew that facial expression. Angel was determined, and nothing she said was going to change his mind.
It was Daneela who spoke for them all.
"I don't think we have any other choice."
The voices in my head get
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