Torn

(1)

�I couldn�t even hug her.  I thought she was dead!  Then, suddenly, she�s right in front of me, and I couldn�t touch her.  You don�t know what I would have given to have been alone with her there, without all her friends standing in front of her, unconsciously protecting her from me.�  He sighed.  �This shouldn�t matter so much.  Nothing�s changed.  Willow�s always been out of reach.  A vampire can�t break up with a slayer and come out of it in one piece.  What do I do?�  Angel pleaded. 

�Got to tell her, mate.  It�s the only way,� Spike replied.

(2)

Willow sat alone in her room, staring at her reflection in the mirror over her dresser.  Her vampire twin was gone and Willow was left to her own dark imaginings.  Life sure would be simpler with no rules, no homework, and no responsibility.  �Wanna be bad?�  The vampire had asked her.  �Sometimes, yeah,� she hadn�t said. 

A knock on her window startled her.  �Angel?  Hi,� she said, letting him in.  �Did another old friend of Buffy�s come to town?�  She had trouble keeping the bitterness out of her voice.  Why else would he be here?

�I�m not here about Buffy.�

(3)

Spike couldn�t keep the snicker to himself, not that he tried very hard.  �Turned you down, eh?�

�Flat and cold.  Thinks she loves the wolf.  She thinks I betrayed Buffy just standing there in her room.�  He kicked a small chair and it crumpled. 

Spike watched him from the couch, smoking lazily.  �Didn�t you?�

Angel looked up.  �This is all your fault, you know.  I never would�ve gone to her!�

Spike crushed out his cigarette, stretched and stood.  �Don�t you worry.  Spike�ll make it all better.�  He turned and left. 

�Wait, come back!  What are you going to do?  Spike!�

(4)

Angel didn�t think Spike was stupid enough to do anything drastic.  He was wrong.  In just over an hour, the blonde was back at the mansion, carrying an unconscious Willow over his shoulder.  He dropped her unceremoniously onto the couch and grinned at Angel.  �You want her, you got her!�

�Spike!  Are you insane?  Don�t you think someone�s going to miss her?�

Spike just shrugged.  �Not till tomorrow at least.  �Sides, they�ll never look for her here.�

Angel yanked at his hair in frustration.  �What am I supposed to do with her?�

�Whatever you want.  That�s the point, isn�t it?�

(5)

Getting nowhere with Spike, Angel knelt by the couch to check on Willow.  When he got a good look at her, his stomach lurched.  She wore a soft cotton tank top and matching shorts.  The tank did nothing to hide the bite on her neck, and the shorts did nothing to hide the blood on her thighs. 

In a blur of fists, he was on Spike, pounding him into the floor, each word accented with a blow to his face.  �What.  Did. You.  Do.  To.  Her!�

Spike tried to fend him off.  �What�s the matter with you?  We�ve always shared.�

(6)

Spike sat in the corner, tending his wounds and sulking.  Angel had finally left off beating him, giving into his own guilt instead, and breaking into tears.  Ungrateful prat.  Spike had only given him what he wanted, and this was the thanks he got.  It could�ve been great fun, the four of them.  Dru had insisted he return to Sunnydale and entreat Angel to come away with them before she would take him back.  The little witch would�ve occupied Angel nicely, ensuring that Spike would have at least some time alone with Dru.  But no, it was not to be.

(7)

Angel watched over Willow as she slept, helpless to heal her or hasten her awakening.  He couldn�t imagine what he would do or say when she did wake up.  If he let her go, it would mean his death, and Spike�s.  If he kept her, it would mean his damnation.  He was screwed and it was his own fault.  Oh, he wanted to blame Spike, but that would be too easy.  Spike was a soulless demon.  When he wanted something, there was no stopping him.  He had no concept of why Angel would not simply take what he wanted.  Screwed.

(8)

A throbbing headache convinced Willow that she was not dead.  Strong arms held her and a glass of water was pressed to her lips.  She gulped it down.  She remembered things.  Terrible, nightmarish things.  She opened her eyes and saw a familiar face that brought her no comfort.  And over the shoulder of the arm that held her, she saw another familiar face.  She screamed.  Hands covered her mouth and still she screamed.  Whispered promises of protection and safety did nothing to calm her.  She screamed until her throat was raw and no one could stop her.  Then she cried.

(9)

He paced the floor, his thoughts racing.  The bathroom door was still closed but he could hear the muffled sobs anyway.  Willow had regained coherence when Spike left the room.  She asked to take a shower and he let her.  Now he had decisions to make.  He wanted her in ways that would make her run fast and far if she knew about them.  Worse yet, she smelled like Spike and his demon demanded that he make her smell like him instead.  This was no accident on Spike�s part.  Soulless, yes.  Stupid, no.  Somehow this all benefited him.  Insufferable brat.

(10)

Only hours ago, he would�ve given so much for this moment alone with Willow.  Now he would give that same vague sacrifice to have never met her.  She sat on the edge of his bed, wearing his sweatpants and his silk robe, staring at him fearlessly.  She truly believed the soul made him better, safer, than Spike.  Maybe it did.  There was no time to look after her, or even take her home.  They would stop just before sunrise and call Buffy to pick her up.  He hoped they would be far enough away.  �Let�s go,� he called to Spike.