Chapter 27

 

 

 

 

Countdown: 36 hours

 

Angel scanned the room before him. Off to the right he could see Connor lying back on his cot, eyes closed feigning sleep. Angel of course knew he wasn’t asleep, could feel the energy humming through his sons’ body, the restless energy as they waited for the signal to move.

 

On the cot next to Connor Xander sat with his head buried in his hands.

 

“I know you and Xander aren’t close,” Cordy murmured as she gripped him in a tight hug. Over her shoulder Angel could see the young man in question glaring at them.

 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed that,” Angel muttered.

 

Drawing away Cordy looked up into the eyes of the man she considered her brother, her family. “Can you just keep an eye out for him? Please? He… I don’t think he’s at 100% yet but he refuses to be left behind since everyone else is going.”

 

“I’ll make sure he comes back Cordy,” he promised softly.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Damon and Brendan were sitting side by side in one corner of the room propped up by the wall both men looked exhausted… fighting it by conversing quietly.

 

For one idle moment Angel wondered what it would be like to have a male friend to actually talk to… then decided that it was a moot point. When he got Buffy back he would share everything with her… just like he… well hadn’t always done but there were certainly first times for everything.

 

Spike would of course be a problem. Buffy and his most insolent grandchilde had forged a friendship that he didn’t understand. One that he didn’t want to understand.

 

Thinking of his love in the arms of Druscilla’s childe made him see a violent shade of red. Thinking of the friendship that had been formed as a byproduct of that relationship didn’t make him see such a bright shade of red as it made him seethe with jealousy.

 

For months before her third ‘death’ Buffy had shared her thoughts, her fears everything with Spike and the others. And that should have been his place.

 

Even knowing that Spike still loved Druscilla so deeply had done nothing to dampen the jealousy that flared through him when Buffy and Spike’s names were linked in any manner.

 

“I know that the Slayer is your first priority… her and the Wolf at any rate,” Spike began quietly; eyes downcast and Angel knew that he hated it.

 

Spike was showing deference to him as his elder, as his grandsire even though the vampire Angelus was no more… all because he was about to ask a favor that Angel would have tried to accomplish regardless.

 

“I won’t leave without her,” Angel promised his voice just as low. “Whatever Dru did in the past… is done. She’s kept Buffy and Oz alive… she didn’t need to do that…”

 

“She wanted to come home,” Spike began.

 

“And I’ll bring her home.”

 

Dragging a hand through his hair he stared at it momentarily. Clenching it into a tight fist he watched the knuckles turn white from the effort, waited until he felt the pain of his short fingernails leave crescent shaped marks in his palm before he relaxed.

 

The pain reminded him that he was alive, that he was awake… and served to distract him from the pain that Buffy was currently in.

 

It had been over a day and he could still feel the violent tremors wracking his small mate’s body, he knew that she was trying to block it from him, trying to spare him from the pain that was barraging her non stop.

 

But she couldn’t, not with both their mated bond and the Warrior bond feeding off one another, strengthening one another.

 

Every hit she took, every mark those monsters placed on her perfect skin he could feel on his and for a half a second after they had started on her once more he wondered with all the pain he could feel why he wasn’t manifesting the exact same wounds.

 

Not that he wanted the same exact wounds… maybe he’d ask Jade about it when she got up.

 

Was it any wonder that eh couldn’t sleep?

 

He was half afraid that he was going to lie down on his cot between Connor and Damon and be incapacitated by pain.

 

“Not much time left,” Damon said suddenly from beside him. He didn’t jump, didn’t reveal in anyway that the Warriors presence at his side has surprised him and he silently patted himself on the back.

 

“How bad do you think they’re going to be?” Angel asked quietly. Finally wording the question that he was sure was flying through every Warrior, every Hunter, every Human and Faith’s minds.

 

“I don’t know,” the other male said after a moment, he glanced over at where Connor’s eyes were still closed, although he could see and feel that the younger male was indeed awake. “I think we should all be prepared for worst case scenarios… I think that includes your childe as well.”

 

“Dru?”

 

“We can’t rule out the possibility that they’re on to her… the fact that they’re getting ready to move either one or both of them…” Damon shook his head. “I think they know she’s feeding information to someone, although they probably don’t think it’s us.”

 

“Dru won’t let us down.”

 

“I never said she would… but you should prepare yourself for the fact that we might not be able to rescue everyone… and if there’s a choice to be made…”

 

“You’re saying that you could choose? You could decide that Buffy’s life was more important than Oz or Dru’s and choose to save her and sacrifice them?”

 

“Couldn’t you.”

 

 

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Oz paused with his key in the door, on the other side he could hear his girls.

 

Tara’s loud, boisterous laugh, followed by her mothers quieter one. This was his family and at one time he’d thought he wouldn’t survive long enough to have it.

 

It had been a long time dream of his. Even their two splits had not dimmed the dream.

 

Him and Willow together… with children.

 

Even through everything he could see those children. Little moppets with shining hair like their mothers and innocent eyes because they would never see the things that he and Willow had.

 

They would never live through the horrors that they had.

 

Of course if he had his way Willow would never go through any of that again either. What he had been through had been bad enough… he didn’t want to give those nightmares to his wife.

 

He knew that Buffy would be telling Angel everything. Would share all the painful memories that he shared with her and Dru with her mate, her husband. He’d known all along that Buffy would eventually tell him.

 

Just as he’d known that Willow would want him to tell her the same things. He just didn’t think that he was ready yet.

 

Plastering a smile on his face he pushed the door open and took in the scene before him.

 

His daughter, his bright thirteen month old child who had been walking at a day shy of ten months was wandering around in circles reciting her ready for bed mantra. Willow had obviously gotten tired of waiting for his return and had bathed and dressed their little angel in her favorite footed cow pajamas for bed.

 

“Hey,” Willow’s quiet voice came from the door to the kitchen, she smiled gently at him holding the bottle in her hand out to him. “I was just getting ready to put her down.”

 

“Night, night, night,” Tara stated loudly looking expectantly up at her father.

 

They had a ritual after all. Oz always put her to bed, sometimes with Willow leaning over his shoulder. But bedtime was his bonding time with the little girl that had her heart wound around her little finger.

 

Easily swinging her up into his arms she laughed as she reached for the bottle that Willow handed over to him, shoving it in her mouth she leaned back her eyes boring into her fathers as she waited.

 

Pressing a kiss to her daughters soft cheek, then planting a matching one on Oz’s lips she smiled stroking a finger down his cheek.

 

“You should put her to bed, before she decides that its play time instead of bedtime,” she smiled gently pushing them towards the nursery.

 

 

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Oz howled, back arching slightly as he once more regained consciousness.

 

Flames licked at his feet and he desperately tried to curl his feet, tried to move his legs to get away.

 

He struggled uselessly against the restraints that held him to the table, growling deep in his throat when they refused to give… much like he refused to give.

 

He knew they wanted to break him. Knew that was the only reason that they continued working on him and Buffy. They wanted to break them down, destroy them… destroy who they were and what they held dear.

 

When the flames stopped biting into his skin he drew a deep breath, his entire body shaking as his pain wracked his body.

 

“I don’t care what you have to do…” he heard someone hissing to another person that was out of his line of sight. “Break him!”

 

Turning glazed eyes he searched the room, he was the only one currently strapped to a table, the only one currently being tortured.

 

If he broke no one would see it. No one besides him and them would know. But he refused to do that.

 

Buffy and Dru were counting on him being strong. If he wasn’t in here then Buffy would be in here… so for each other they had to hold together.

 

So he forced his mind back to that dream world that came so infrequently. Willow and their bright eyed daughter named after her dead lover.

 

How had Willow managed to convince him to name their daughter after Tara he wondered idly.

 

His body bowed as the flames once more bit into the souls of his feet, a tiny whimper escaping his lips unchecked as his eyes closed he prayed for salvation.

 

“What’s going on in here?” his eyes snapped open at both the bitter anger he could hear and the fact that it was Druscilla that the voice belonged to.

 

Pain filled eyes turned to her and he silently begged her for help.

 

“The wolf belongs to me,” she stated angrily eyes flashing. “I thought that was understood.”

 

“We’re just following instructions…” the demon at his feet muttered as he turned the torch he had been using off and turned to face the extremely pissed off vampiress. “We were told to break the boy so we’re…”

 

“Who told you to do that?” Dru asked quietly, with feline grace she moved into the room stopping at the head of the table Oz was strapped to.

 

“Samuel gave us leave to do whatever it took…”

 

“Well it wasn’t his to give,” the dark haired vampiress growled and Oz was shocked at her restraint. The rage was rolling off her in uncontrollable waves and from where he was basically chained down it looked like she was ready to tear somebody’s head off.

 

Hopefully the ass that insisted on using fire on his feet.

 

“The wolf and the Warrior are mine… any torture being performed goes through me…”

 

“You need to take that up with Samuel,” the demon grunted picking up his torch again. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have work to do.”

 

Oz’s panic filled eyes flew back to Dru’s begging her to do something, anything to help him.

 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” she murmured softly.

 

“What?” the demon turned to her in confusion, just in time to see a metal pan fly at his face knocking him clear across the room, into a wall and onto his ass in one fell swoop.

 

“Whoa,” Oz breathed as he stared across the room at the demon now crumpled on the floor.

 

Dru worked hurriedly on his bindings, freeing him in mere seconds then frowned when he didn’t move.

 

“Come little Wolf,” she stated. “Unless you want to stay here.”

 

Oz shook his head pushing himself up and then sliding off the table, only Dru’s arms around him kept him from sliding right off the table into a puddle on the floor. He winced as they took a slow step, the soles of his feet throbbing in agony.

 

He didn’t moan, he knew he didn’t… but Dru knew and with a swift movement had swung the slighter male up into her arms… thereby proving that it wasn’t only male vampires that were stronger but females as well.

 

Maybe when they got out of this he could swear her to secrecy because he so didn’t want people to know that Dru had been carrying cradled protectively against her like an infant. He would allow the carrying, wouldn’t say a word about the cradling but if she started singing he was out of there.

 

Damaged feet be damned.

 

“Buffy,” he said softly, eyes scanning the halls.

 

“Soon… very soon.”

 

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