The Wheel

by Cynamin

Part One

The office of Angel investigations was entirely too quiet. Usually, even if Angel were asleep, there would have been something going on. Cordelia would have been sitting at her desk, possibly filing or something, but most likely filing her nails and waiting for the phone to ring. This empty office? It just wasn’t what Kate was expecting when she opened the door just after sundown.

The reception area was completely dark. There was obviously someone here as evidenced by the jacket flung over the back of one of the chairs, but that was it. A large pile of unopened mail was sitting on the desk. The answering machine showed new messages with a red blinking light. Kate wondered how long it had been since the machine had been checked, as she had left two messages in the last week herself.

“Hello?” Kate called into the silent office. She half expected Angel to step out of the shadows. He didn’t.

She peeked into the smaller office looking for him. It was even darker in here, the shades drawn tight like usual. Not like usual was the thin layer of dust that lay over everything. She stepped from the office and called out again. This time she got an answer.

“What do you want?” Cordelia asked testily, standing at the top of the stairs.

Kate didn’t let her surprise show. Cordelia looked tired, her scowl half-hearted and mostly weary. Her usually impeccable clothing was wrinkled and she wore very little make up. Mostly, though, she just seemed annoyed to see Kate there. “I was hoping to talk to Angel,” she explained.

“Well, you can’t,” Cordelia replied bluntly. “Maybe in several days…or longer.” As she turned to go back downstairs, Kate heard her mutter to herself, “If the world doesn’t come to an end first.”

“Cordelia, wait!” But the girl had already started back down the stairs. So Kate did the only thing she could – she followed. “Cordelia, it’s important!”

Cordelia spun around at the bottom of the stairs, stopping the police detective in her tracks. “I said go away!” she nearly yelled. “Unless it’s the apocalypse, I can’t help you!”

“I don’t need your help,” Kate said calmly, trying to placate the angry young woman. “I just want to talk to Angel.”

“Talk to Angel, huh?” Cordelia replied quietly, the fight in her disappearing and leaving her looking merely exhausted. “Fine, talk to him. He won’t hear you, but you can talk yourself blue for all I care.”

Kate took in the statements without comment though she wanted to demand what was going on. She knew that if she pushed too far she’d loose her very thin welcome. So she followed Cordelia in silence.

She stopped just in the doorway of Angel’s bedroom. This suddenly felt highly awkward. Yes, she’d been here before, but there had been no one here then. Now she was with both of Angel’s coworkers. Cordelia entered the room ahead of her and spoke quietly to Wesley, sitting with a large book next to the bed. Then there was Angel, laying still on the bed, the presence of so many people in his room not even making him stir.

Kate could not stop the gasp from escaping his throat. “How long has he been like this?”

Cordelia looked up from her quiet conference to glance at the comatose vampire. “A bit over a week,” she said in a voice eerily devoid of emotion. “So you can go now, Kate, because he’s not going to hear you.”

Kate swallowed hard. She’d run Angel though the stomach with a plank of wood before and he’d managed to walk away. What in the world had happened to get him like this? She asked as much.

“Grief,” replied Wesley distractedly.

Kate stared at him blankly.

When it was clear she wasn’t going to go anywhere, Cordelia sighed and led Kate from the room. “Listen,” she said gently, “the full story is none of your business, but the short story is that – as far as we know – Angel felt someone he cares about die suddenly and he’s been like this ever since. So I hope whatever you needed wasn’t important, because none of us are in any condition to help you right now.”

Kate nodded. “It’s all right,” she said. “Just help him.”

Cordelia sighed. “I’m trying,” she muttered.

There was an odd look on her face, and Kate knew that whatever Cordelia had been trying, it wasn’t working. She hesitated to give advice where it wasn’t welcome, but… “Have you tried taking him away from this place?”

“What?” Cordelia asked in confusion.

Kate shrugged. “Whatever this is that’s keeping him…unconscious, it’s probably psychological. I mean, nothing physical would effect him like this, right?” Cordelia nodded. “Then maybe a change of scenery will snap him out of it. Is there anyplace you could take Angel that might…mean more to him than here?”

Cordelia smiled then, and Kate knew she’d had the right idea.

They were walking again. They existed in that sort of comfortable familiarity, the easy silence only lovers seem to share. The conventional title didn’t seem to work, though. None of them ever had for them. They were soulmates, best friends, siblings of the heart…. The labels didn’t matter. They were together.

Angel stumbled suddenly. Buffy caught his arm and looked at him in concern. “I’m fine,” he insisted, and stood tall beside her. She had a frown on her face, but let it pass.

He wasn’t all right though. He was feeling weaker as time went on and he was pretty sure Buffy could tell. Neither of them said anything about it, though. They knew what it meant – their time together in this place was about to come to an end one way or another. Neither of them wanted to think about that, though. Treasure every moment.

Buffy squeezed his hand with a small, sad smile on her face. Yes, they knew. They just wouldn’t admit it to themselves. She stood still, and their endless walking came to a rest for a moment. “I want to ask you something,” she said softly.

“Go ahead,” Angel said. He hadn’t even the slightest worry about what she might ask.

“Why did you leave me?” At Angel’s surprised look, she tried to clarify. “I don’t mean the ‘erasing the day’ thing. I understand why you did that. No, I mean Sunnydale. Why did you leave?”

“I told you,” Angel said softly.

“So tell me again,” Buffy replied with the infinite patience only the dead can have.

Angel looked down as he thought for a moment. He looked up again, no doubt in his gaze or his words. “I couldn’t give you what you needed…a normal life. Children, a future, someone to grow old with…someone you could make love to. I…could never have given you everything that you wanted.”

She smiled, that sad smile that had become so familiar now. “All I wanted was you, Angel. You should have known that.”

He shook his head in denial. “You’re the Slayer. You should have had something…someone normal. Someone who belonged in the light.”

“I’m the Slayer. My life is darkness. The same darkness you dwell in. That’s why we always fit so well together.” She stepped closer to him, searching his face. “What was it you wanted that made you need to leave?”

“You don’t understand,” Angel said softly. “Everything I wanted, I wanted for you. There wasn’t anything else.”

“Show me,” she whispered, leaning close. “Show me what you wanted.” She kissed him then, and Angel let his eyes close and his mind wander. He painted a picture in his mind of the ideal moments they had never had, that they could never have. It was too late now, after all.

When they had opened their eyes again the gray had taken on a peculiar sort of glow as of the sunlight through mist. The ground was grass covered now and speckled with wild flowers. Hills stretched out beyond their vision, wooded in the distance. Close at hand stood a large tree, its branches creating ample shade over a blanket and an overstuffed picnic basket. It had a peculiar undefined quality, like a dream.

Buffy took the sight in and laughed lightly. “A picnic, Angel? Isn’t that a bit…mundane?”

Angel took her hand and led her onto the blanket. “There’s more than enough darkness in the world. Isn’t there a need for something mundane in life?”

“Sometimes,” Buffy agreed, sitting down in front of the picnic basket. She smiled and pulled him down next to her. “Let’s see what you packed for us,” she said and began taking out the food. Sandwiches, fruit, usual sort of stuff. For dessert…. “Chocolate and peanut butter?” Buffy asked with a chuckle.

“Ice cream would have melted,” Angel explained with a grin.

Buffy smiled back. She reached the bottom of the basket and quirked an eyebrow at him as she lifted out the last item in the basket. It was a wooden stake. “Always prepared?” she asked with a grin.

He would have replied then, but a sound – so familiar to these dreams, but foreign to his unlife – interrupted them both. Laughter, high and childish, near at hand, made Buffy’s eyes go wide. Angel stood and helped her up, leading her around the large tree to look down the hill.

The dreamlike quality was even stronger now, a non-reality bordering on the surreal. It was a scene that was too bright, too happy, and completely out of context with either of their lives. There stood a house, large but not too big, in an old style. Two children were playing on a swing set in the backyard. The eldest and clear leader of the pair was a girl of about seven years old with long dark hair. A smaller boy of about five followed her closely. The boy stopped for a moment and turned to look up the hill at Buffy and Angel. He smiled and waved, then chased after his sister once again.

Buffy turned to look at Angel, her eyes shining. Angel nodded and squeezed her hand. There were no words between them. Looking into her eyes, Angel let reality slip away.

They arrived in Sunnydale around nine o’clock the next night. The small town was eerily quiet. If what Giles had said was right the majority of the inhabitants had been frightened indoors by the recent rash of murders and the demons were laying low between rituals. The only ones in town, actually, that weren’t laying low were the Scooby Gang…or at least, what was left of it.

So, around nine o’clock at night, Angel’s convertible pulled up in Giles’ driveway with Wesley at the wheel. No one came out to great them, though they knew they were coming and the lights showed that someone was home. As soon as the car stopped Cordelia climbed out, followed quickly by Wesley. It was a bit of a struggle to get Angel from the backseat, but they managed. Once they got him to his feet between them, they half carried, half dragged him into the house.

Giles answered the door quickly when Wesley knocked. His eyes went wide but he recovered quickly. He’d received too many shocks lately not to. “Come in,” he said quickly, standing aside.

Cordelia stumbled in the doorway and almost went down under Angel’s weight. Giles was at his side quickly.

“Let me,” he said and took over for her. Giles and Wesley manhandled Angel into another room and Cordelia slumped into a vacant chair.

Once she caught her breath she took a look at the gathering. Everyone was there, old and new. Willow, Xander, Anya…a boy she didn’t know, so that must have been Riley…. Still, for so many people in one place they were remarkably subdued. Everyone sported minor injuries; bruises and scrapes. Riley looked the worst out of them, a bandage on his head and a large bruise on the side of his face. Everyone looked exhausted.

Giles and Wesley came back into the room a couple of moments later. “Well,” Giles said as he sat down, “I have to admit I did not completely believe you until I saw for myself.”

“What, you thought I was lying about Angel’s condition?” Cordelia replied, somewhere between angry and hurt.

“No!” Giles said quickly. “It’s just…. He looks awful, Cordelia.”

*So do you,* she thought, but didn’t say it. They’d all been through hell lately, and she did have *some* sensitivity.

There was a long silence. “Hopefully being back in Sunnydale will do him some good,” Wesley said. “Until then, Cordelia and I had best help you with your current crisis.”

“Yes, that would be best,” Giles agreed. “We’re trying to determine…”

“Hold on a second!” Cordelia interrupted. “We just got here.” She looked at all of them seriously, but mostly at Giles. “I want…I want to see Buffy’s grave. Before anything else happens.”

Giles looked at her in surprise. “Yes…of course.” He paused for a second. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

“I’d take Angel with me,” Cordelia replied testily, “but he’s in no condition…”

“He’d…want to see Buffy’s grave,” Willow said in a barely audible whisper.

The room fell silent as that sank in.

“I’ll go with them,” Riley said finally.

Cordelia looked at his injuries with an odd expression.

“I can still shoot straight,” he said. “And I’ll help you get Angel there, too.”

Cordelia nodded, and the rest of them returned to their silent research.

Night came softly, if night could ever come to a place like this. Angel smiled as he walked beside Buffy. The moment was serene, and they were together. If there was something wrong with this situation, Angel gave it no thought. Where they had come from or where they were going didn’t matter.

Buffy was watching him oddly. “Angel?”

“Hmm?”

Her face showed a multitude of emotions he could only begin to guess at. “Do you remember one of the times…I left you? After the whole affair with Spike, I said ‘What I want from you I can never have.’”

“Yes,” Angel said, his smile altering only for a moment. “Why bring it up now? It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re together now.”

“It does matter!” Buffy said in surprise. “What I want, what you want…it always matters. That’s part of the problem between us. We always wanted impossible things. The sunlight, the children? We wanted everything…and ended up with nothing.”

“We have everything,” Angel protested, and smiled, dismissing her comments.

“Angel,” Buffy said urgently, “you know that isn’t true. *This* isn’t real.”

Angel looked at her blankly. It felt real. They were together. It had to be real.

“I wish this could go on forever,” Buffy whispered sadly, “but it’s already gone on too long. This isn’t real. You have to go back.”

Her words made no sense. They should have, but they didn’t. “Back?”

“Yes, Angel, back,” Buffy said patiently. “Remember? They need you. If you don’t go back now, you’ll be lost to them forever. You’ll be lost to me forever, too.”

An inexplicable sadness seemed to seep into Angel’s mind. “I don’t want to go back,” he whispered harshly.

“I know,” Buffy said, taking hold of both his hands. “You have to though, remember? We belong to the world, not to each other. You said that once. The world needs you now.”

The words, the familiar words, broke through the fog Angel had willed himself into. “But you’re not there,” he whispered. “I’m so lonely.”

Buffy pulled him into a strong hug. “I’d return with you if I could,” she whispered in his ear.

“You would?”

“Yes. I wish, just once, that I could stop the world from ending with you once again.” She pulled back and Angel could see their surroundings once again. The faint forms of gravestones seemed to rise from the mist. “It’s your responsibility now. There is no changing my reality, but don’t let *this* become everyone else’s.”

She led him by the hand then into the cemetery, becoming more real by the moment. Angel knew where it was now. He and Buffy had patrolled there together often enough. Of the cemeteries in Sunnydale, it was one of the newest. Buffy led him in silence to the newest part of the cemetery. There were more new graves there than there should have been. Flowers left by families were on over half the graves here, and Angel’s shoes disturbed the freshly dug soil. Not Buffy’s, though; she left no footprints.

“This is reality,” Buffy explained after a moment.

“No…” Not this busy cemetery, not this gravestone….

Buffy stopped him, the marker between them. “Yes. *This* is reality. You have to go back now.”

Angel looked at the gravestone, at the name he’d always known he’d see there someday. The name he’d dreaded seeing. Now it was real. He could feel the cold stone, the texture of her name carved in the granite. “Will we ever be together again?” he asked Buffy in a whisper.

“Maybe,” Buffy replied, seeming the element of the dream within the harsh reality of the cemetery. “I hope so. But not today.” She leaned forward to catch his lips in one last tender kiss….

And then she was gone, and Angel was alone. Alone in a darkness that echoed from deep within himself. Alone with her grave standing in silent tribute to the woman who had captured his heart and soul. For the first time since he’d seen her years before, he was truly alone.

Angel sank to his knees in the fresh dirt. Together in body and soul, Angel cried in mourning.

It was curiosity more than anything else that led Riley to volunteer to accompany Cordelia to the cemetery. It had only been after Buffy’s death that he had finally learned about Angel, the vampire with a soul she’d been so involved with. He understood now the things she would never tell him, the part of herself he could never get close to. That was where the vampire had still dwelled in her; where she still held on to him and could not let go.

So it was that Riley felt more than his share of curiosity – and jealousy, perhaps – when the vampire appeared at the door. Yet looking at the handsome, older man whose gaze had become a vacant stare at Buffy’s death, the curiosity only grew stronger. So under the guise of keeping her safe, he accompanied Cordelia and helped her take Angel to Buffy’s gravesite.

Cordelia wasn’t very talkative, though. Wearily she supported Angel as best she could over the uneven ground of the cemetery. They reached Buffy’s grave in silence. Once Angel was propped up, standing with just a bit of support from Cordelia, Riley moved back to let them have time to themselves.

Riley watched the area for vampires and demons. After all, that’s what he said he was coming along for. He drew his weapon and watched the darkness. Nothing moved in the unnaturally still night.

A cry drew his attention after several minutes. It was not the animalistic cry of a demon though, but the anguished cry of a man. Riley turned back to the gravesite to see that Angel had fallen. Riley was about to help Cordelia until he saw that she supported Angel, not because he’d finally lost his strength, but because real grief had taken it from him. She held Angel as his shoulders shook with sobs, saying nothing but comforting him as best she could.

Time passed slowly until finally the vampire pulled away, the first movement Riley had seen him make on his own. Cordelia looked at him with concern in her eyes.

“I’ll be alright,” Angel assured her, wiping the last of the tears from his cheeks.

She glared at him. “Don’t lie to me,” she scolded.

“I didn’t say *when* I’d be alright,” Angel replied honestly. “But I’m…okay for now.”

“Yeah, sure,” Cordelia replied.

Angel climbed slowly to his feet. He swayed unsteadily, and Cordelia jumped up and grasped his arm to help him.

“Easy,” she said softly. “You’ve been in bed for over a week.”

Angel looked at her in surprise. “Over a week?”

Riley chose that moment to draw their attention. “Since Friday before last.”

Cordelia looked back and forth between Angel and Riley uneasily. This could be very awkward. “Angel, this is Riley.”

Riley offered his hand and Angel shook it lightly. The vampire’s eyes were no longer vacant, but filled with a grief Riley could only begin to understand. They let each other’s hands go in silence.

“What day is it?” Angel asked finally.

“Tuesday,” Cordelia replied.

They stood in silence for a moment. Angel’s gave returned to the gravestone and looked pained.

“We can’t stay here,” Riley said finally. “It’s too dangerous.”

Angel nodded and glanced at the grave. “Goodbye, love,” he whispered and stepped away.

After two steps he stumbled and nearly fell. Riley caught him and supported him with an arm around his shoulders. Their eyes met. The two men, both in love with the same woman, reached a silent understanding in that moment that they could never explain afterwards. There was nothing to be jealous of anymore, when all was done. Buffy was dead, and they were going to have to work together if they weren’t going to join her.

Of all the things that Angel had been through lately, this felt the least real. Walking through Sunnydale, the town he’d thought he’s left for good a year ago, with Cordelia on one side and the boy who’d taken his place with his girl on the other…it was as strange as the knowledge that girl was dead. The girl whose death he’d done everything to prevent. The girl whose grave was forever etched into his mind.

Angel was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Lying in bed for a week and a half with very little to eat certainly hadn’t done his strength any good. Not a good thing with the end of the world imminent. Still, Angel knew himself. A couple of days at the most, blood, exercise…and he’d be fine.

That took care of his physical well-being. Emotional? Dealing with that would have to wait.

Giles opened the door almost before they could finish knocking. For a moment they all stood there in silence. Not that there was much to say…

“Hey Giles,” Angel said softly.

Cordelia and Riley let him go as soon as they were in the door. As everyone watched him, he slowly crossed the room and sank into the couch.

“Looks like visiting the cemetery did Dead Boy some good,” Xander said in half-hearted sarcasm.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Angel replied.

“It’s good to see you, Angel,” whispered Willow. She was quiet even for her.

Wesley stepped from the other room then. “Giles, the book of…” He glanced up and lost his train of thought. “Angel! You’re…”

Angel smiled though it was filled with sadness. “I’m okay, Wes.” He looked at Giles. “Do you want to explain what’s going on? I’m…a bit behind.”

“They’re called the Cult of Spikura,” Giles said quickly. They did not have much time, after all. “They are dedicated to bringing about-“

“The end of the world,” Cordelia finished.

Angel nodded in understanding. “The End of Days.”

“Well, yes, exactly…”

Anya yawned loudly. “Is it happening *today*, Giles?”

“Not as far as I can tell.”

“Then can we go home and sleep? You can talk all about it tomorrow…no wait, that *is* today. But the rest of us have heard it already,” Anya said bluntly.

Giles looked at them all uncertainly. Who knew how long they had?

“It’s alright,” Angel said. “It’s not as if I can do anything else in the daytime. You could come explain everything then.”

“Where will you stay?” Giles asked.

“The mansion.”

Everyone nodded, except for Riley who looked at them in confusion. “Mansion?”

“You know that big old place on Crawford Street?” At Riley’s nod, Cordelia continued smugly, “That’s Angel’s.”

The Scooby Gang dispersed soon afterwards. Finally only Angel, Cordelia, and Wesley were left in the driveway standing next to Angel’s car. Angel leaned wearily against the car door. “You drive, Wesley,” he said softly.

A hand touched his shoulder. Angel looked up to meet Cordelia’s eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Angel’s eyes were sad as he looked past her at the familiar town. Every place in it was one more memory of Buffy. If they survived, he was going to leave Sunnydale forever after the battles were over. It was just too hard. “What do you think?”

Cordelia nodded sympathetically. “Yeah.”

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