Chapter 25

 

 

 

It was moments like this that she forgot what she was… who she had been. Forgot that the man she loved more than her own life had entered hers as one of those things that she killed.

 

Oz had left mere moments prior, seeking out his own love. The woman whose memory had allowed him to keep his sanity at a time when he’d thought he’d lose it along with everything else. Including his life.

 

Angel had entered shortly after Oz’s departure. She could feel him in the doorway to the nursery; he hadn’t said anything but the bond that existed between them, that had always existed between them.

 

“Are you just going to stand there all night?” she murmured as she replaced the stuffed animal that she’d been holding in her hands back in it’s designated position.

 

“Was just watching you,” Angel said softly as he moved into the room, his steps easy and soft she sighed when his warm arms enfolded her in a loose embrace. Settling her head back into the crook of his neck she closed her eyes, winding her arms around his, holding his in place as if she was afraid that he would vanish.

 

“Did you have a nice talk with Oz?” his voice was quiet, but the tone unmistakable. A part of him hated that she felt she couldn’t talk to about what she had gone through. That he wasn’t included in the small group of two people that she felt could understand what had happened to her rankled him slightly.

 

He’d held off calling Oz in for just that reason.

 

He’d hoped that it would finally force her to talk to him about what happened to her, but she hadn’t and as her nightmares had grown steadily worse he’d finally broke down and called Oz in. He would have called Dru in as well but the female was in England with Spike and the two wouldn’t be back for another ten days. They had to be back in ten days else the baby would have to be born in England… or they would have to return to Los Angeles by boat.

 

And Dru had sworn to never sail by boat again.

 

He grinned inwardly at the though of Spike as a father.

 

“Angel…” she turned within the circle of his arms. Her hands resting on his hips, teeth gnawing on her bottom lip she stared up at him. “You know I love you… right?”

 

“Of course love,” he smiled down at her silently berating himself. He had never meant to insinuate to her that he doubted her love for him, his damn insecurities, jealousies rearing their ugly heads when there was no reason to. If there was one thing that he had never questioned, would never question it was her love for him.

 

That emotion was prevalent in all of her actions, in all of her words.

 

“I know you want me to tell you…”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” he shook his head. He wouldn’t force her to share anything she didn’t want to share with him, even as part of him longed to be deemed ‘trustworthy’ in just that respect.

 

“I’m ready to tell you,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes as she looked away.

 

“Buffy, baby,” he murmured wiping at the tears falling from her eyes. He could feel her shame, her fear as if it was a living being. She was afraid that he would think her weak and walk away from her. “You don’t need to do this.”

 

“Yes… I do,” her voice was barely a breath, sadness heard through every syllable. Removing herself from his arms he protested as he felt her withdraw from him. Closing herself off from him.

 

“I’m tired Angel,” her trembling hands stroked the fur of the animals adorning the shelves, then settled across her stomach as if she could garner strength for what she wanted to share with him through the child that she carried.

 

A child that they had made together. The child they would share, the sibling for Connor.

 

Their child.

 

“I’ll never leave you,” he rested his hands on her hips, pulling her back against him. Winding his arms around her holding her to him. “Never,” he vowed harshly. “Nothing you could say could make me.”

 

“I’ve never felt as weak as I did when they had me,” she began quietly, her voice a whisper that he strained to hear. “I couldn’t fight them, every time I did the punishments, the tests they just got worse and worse. I prayed for you to come… prayed and prayed…”

 

 

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Angel’s eyes snapped open, sitting cross-legged in the middle of Buffy’s room, her scent surrounding him as he mediated.

 

“I prayed for you to come…”

 

The words lingered in his mind, the feel of Buffy’s body wrapped within his arms tormented him as his hands itched to touch her. They settled for the moment to touch the pillow that her head had laid on, knowing that soon her head would be there and those fingers stroking its softness would instead be stroking the softness of her hair.

 

“Dad?” Connor’s voice broke through the silence of the room and his eyes rose to meet his sons. “Are you okay? You look… weird.”

 

“Weird?” A brow arched as the vampire forced a smile for his son.

 

“Distressed,” Connor said after a moment of studying him. His father was dressed much the same as he was, much as every other Warrior within the compound was dressed. Of course that meant his attire hadn’t changed much at all.

 

Black short sleeved t-shirt instead of the normally black long sleeved shirt. Black jeans instead of black slacks. Black combat boots instead of the black dress shoes.

 

All he was missing was the black leather coat and he would be similar to the dark, brooding vampire that had arrived at this place.

 

“Strange dreams…” Angel rubbed at his forehead as he gracefully rose to his feet.

 

“Maybe hanging out in moms room isn’t such a good idea,” the newest Warrior murmured forcing his eyes away. Even with his limited human senses he could smell his mother in this room. The ever present scent of her had to be even stronger for Angel with his vampire senses.

 

“It comforts me to be here,” Angel said softly. “In a few hours I won’t be able to sense her presence as strongly as I can now.”

 

“That’s why I’m here,” Connor stated. “Wesley says its time.”

 

“Time,” Angel closed his eyes before glancing around the room once more.

 

“I prayed for you to come…”

 

I’m coming love, he ran a hand along the comforter on her bed, inhaled the vanilla of her scent once more into his system to tide him over until he could hold her within his arms and smell it directly from her… and followed his son from her room.

 

The next time he entered it he would bring her with him.

 

 

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Buffy wound her arms tightly around her knees, rocking slightly as she and Oz huddled together attempting to keep each other warm.

 

“This sucks,” she muttered, Oz snorting in what she assumed was agreement.

 

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and Dru’ll bring a blanket back with her.”

 

“That seems highly unlikely,” she grumbled. “I think we’re totally at the bottom of the food chain now.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well the last cell I was in… you know before they tried to play doctor with me and did the old slice and dice routine… well it had a cot, with at least a thin little blanket.”

 

“You had a blanket?” Oz glanced over at her frowning. “I never had a blanket.”

 

“Yeah well…” Buffy twisted her neck, rubbing her hands together to try and garner warmth as Oz pulled her deeper into his side, his arm hanging over her shoulder, hand absently massaging her shoulder.

 

Normally the feel of a male arm around her shoulders, head tilted near hers, sides lined up would indicate romantic feelings of either one of the parties. But the atmosphere within their cell was so decidedly unromantic that she would never even have used that word save for the fact that she had a warm male pressed sitting close to her.

 

Sighing loudly she allowed her head to fall onto Oz’s shoulder, the wolf resting his against it before raising it and resuming the glaring he was doing at the door.

 

She knew the first phase of the favor she’d asked Wesley for had been accomplished. Even though she was blocking out the bond that served to link her to her fellow Warriors she had felt that moment that Connor joined their, her circle.

 

She’d been worried, for about a half a second when the ceremony had begun. She’d had no idea what to expect, if it would hurt her in some way to have her place within the circle taken over by her son.

 

The fact that it hadn’t hurt had surprised her. In fact it had actually helped her. Now instead of having all her fellow Warriors roaming around in her mind, feeling her pain and emotions, now she could only feel Connor, Damon, Jade… and soon Angel.

 

As she’d been blocking the Warriors out she’d also been blocking her mate out. Not wanting Angel to feel what was being done to her. Not wanting her mate to feel the pain she was experiencing.

 

In mere moments she wouldn’t be able to that anymore. Even now her love was being led towards his destiny, being led by their son.

 

In minutes Angel would be doused in Mohra blood and would take his place as Indaran… finally.

 

He would take another step towards their shared destiny, joining the Warriors already called. Binding himself to her circle, to her new life… and she would be unable to block out what he was receiving from her.

 

She could mute it… make it less horrific… but he would still know that she was being tortured, hurt.

 

He would still know that she was in pain.

 

“You know I hate to say this… because it makes it sound like I trust her but I hope Dru comes back soon,” Oz murmured.

 

Buffy nodded her agreement. They had found that the demons intent on performing their little torture experiments on them tended to leave them alone when Dru was with them. It was strange to be safe only when the dark-haired vampiress was with them, especially since at one time she would have been hell bent on destroying them.

 

“Three more days,” Buffy said under her breath.

 

Three more days until help came. Three more days until Angel and their friends came.

 

Hopefully they would still be of the living when they finally arrived.

 

“So you really had a blanket? I didn’t think demons suffered from irrational prejudices against werewolves before.”

 

 

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Angel moved slowly through the hallways apprehension gnawing away at him. For once the demon was silent. None of his usual demands for carnage and death permeated Angel’s thoughts.

 

It seemed as if the demon had faced the fact that the only way to save their mate was to allow the transformation. So he had himself wrapped in a tight bubble within his mind where he could relive his glory days as he waited for the moment when he would be cast from the body.

 

The soul would remain, would love and cherish the former Slayer until her time of death but the demon, who loved her as well would be cast out.

 

Connor paused in front of the closed door and drew a deep breath before glancing up at his father one last time.

 

This would be the last time that he would gaze upon his father and see a vampire, even though it had been along time since he had seen only a vampire when he looked at Angel. The next time he gazed upon his father, the vampire would be no more, in his place would be a human male…

 

Finally he turned back to the door, pulling it open his stepped back. Allowing Angel to enter the room before him. It was the same room that Connors ceremony had been held in, filled in capacity with Warriors, Hunters, Slayers, humans.

 

Like before the Warriors had a circle formed in the center of the room. Jade and Damon standing already within their positions, as Angel paused on the outskirts of the circle Connor moved past him and stepped into his own place within that circle.

 

Buffy’s place.

 

Angel allowed himself a moment to search out his friends, his family. Giles, Willow, Cordy, Gunn, Fred and Spike were all standing in similar positions as they had been during Connor’s binding.

 

Xander though was lined with the Hunters that had been rescued, his expression blank Angel could still see the avid interest in his eyes.

 

Faith stood to the side of the Hunters, at her side the Slayer in Training that had been rescued clenched and unclenched her hands at her side.

 

Angel allowed surprise to cross his features when Wesley stepped to his side. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been so intently studying the people within the room that he’d never even sensed the Watcher moving towards him.

 

The Watcher raised his hand, indicating that Angel should proceed and he did. Stepping within the circle of Warriors he felt their power buffet him before he planted his feet on the ground. He stopped one step away from the point of the circle that would become his own when this was done. Wesley moved around him, stepping directly in front of him a small knife in one hand, a bottle in the other.

 

No words were spoken as he waited fro Angel to hold out his hand. They’d discussed this prior. Wesley wanting to know exactly how he wanted the procedure to work. They would have to slice his skin, pour the Mohra blood over his wound and wait…

 

It had been so long that Angel wasn’t even sure that he remembered exactly how it had worked before. Had it been painful? Had there been a moment where he thought of dying?

 

Slowly raising his hand he fixed his gaze on the man who would be his Watcher once this was done. A man that had betrayed him for the sake of protecting him at one time.

 

Wesley drew the knife slowly across his hand, the only indication that Angel felt anything the minute flinch before his movements stilled and his features smoothed.

 

Inside the demon softly rumbled his displeasure… they could find a way, any other way to save and protect their love.

 

Buffy unconsciously shrunk back into Oz as the door flew open… Samuel standing outside with two guards, beefy muscular demons beside him. The old man, Druscilla… their makeshift protectors nowhere to be found.

 

“Which one?” one of the guards asked as he moved past Samuel, his compatriot moving alongside him.

 

Samuel’s eyes flickered between the two. Neither showing outright signs of fear, narrowing his eyes he glared at them.

 

They should fear them, him now.

 

Beside her Buffy could feel the trembling of Oz’s muscles, and if she could feel it in a moment she knew that Samuel would see it.

 

“The wolf I think,” Samuel grinned thinly.

 

The two moved forward, closing in a few short steps on the two huddled on the floor.

 

Angel waited silently for Wesley to continue, watching with hooded eyes as he uncorked the bottle within his hand. Reaching out with one hand he steadied Angel’s his eyes meeting the soon to be ex-vampire’s for just a moment before he slowly tilted the bottle and poured a small amount of the Mohra blood on knife wound.

 

Stepping back, closing the bottle back up he waited.

 

They all waited.

 

When nothing happened, when the staggering pain that he thought he remembered from prior didn’t occur Angel opened his mouth to question the pureness of the blood…

 

And instead gasped, a hand flying to his chest, to where his heart would be beating as a streak of pain flew through his body.

 

With wide eyes he staggered, falling to his knees as he gazed upwards, eyes wide, flashing white as he felt pain rocket through his entire body. And he remembered… yes this had hurt like a son of a bitch the last time he’d been rendered human by Mohra blood.

 

He gazed uncomprehendingly at the hand that Wesley held out to him, glancing up at the Watcher confusion running rampant as Wesley smiled softly at him. His eyes became questioning as he saw that there was still Mohra blood remaining within the bottle, Wesley had not used all of it and for a moment he couldn’t understand why.

 

Taking his hand he allowed the other man to pull him to his feet, his mind not understanding why there was still blood left until he felt Spike’s presence at his back and remembered his dream.

 

Spike and Dru… Dru pregnant… and his eyes flew back to Wesley. With a slight nod the Watcher confirmed the suspicions that he saw in Angel’s eyes and then turned away.

 

Moving to his point in the circle now that the first part of the ceremony was complete.

 

Angel drew a deep breath, the simple act of drawing oxygen into his lungs making him slightly giddy and he hoped that the giddiness he was feeling was not prevalent on his face.

 

That would definitely ruin the brooding that he was famous for.

 

“We are Indaran,” Wesley began drawing Angel’s attention once more, the words remembered from Connors ceremony. “We fight in the name of light, we are fifty strong although one has fallen and one is taken. Blood has been bound to fight for blood. We now implore the powers to grant us access to bind one to he who is fallen.”

 

“He has been tested and found worthy of the honor granted in the calling of Indaran.”

 

From behind Whistler moved forward, hand settling for just a second on Angel’s shoulder before falling away.

 

“The powers hear your request and grant you access to continue.”

 

Angel watched in shock as Wesley’s eyes glowed. Had this been what Connor had seen, outside of the circle at the time he’d heard the words but he’d seen only a bare minimum of the actual ceremony.

 

“He who wishes to take this honor step forward, and take your place among us,” Wesley’s voice rumbled deeply and Angel stepped forward without thinking. The voice, the sound of that voice brooked no argument.

 

Feeling Oz shaking in terror next to her Buffy leapt to her feet. Three days, three days her mind screamed at her. They only had to live for three more days.

 

Her actions didn’t even matter, she was so weak, so tired that one of the demons barely moved in her direction, seemingly swatting her away even as she jumped at him.

 

With a gasp she hit the cement wall, falling to a heap on the ground.

 

“Oh don’t worry Warrior,” Samuel winked at her as the demons wrestled a struggling Oz to the door. “We’ll be back for you.”

 

Stepping forward his feet settled onto the point that would be his until he died… or until the End of Days was over and suddenly the pain felt when the Mohra blood had hit his system seemed like a mosquito bite.

 

Power raced through him, emotions flooded his mind and he fought for control.

 

He could feel everything so much stronger through this bond. He’d thought that his mated bond with his love gave him insight into everything that she was feeling and now he knew that was just simply not true.

 

Because at that moment everything that he’d felt before seemed weak and insignificant to the pain reeling through him from her now.

 

Buffy was in pain, and without another thought he flung back his head and howled.

 

 

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