Title: The Shock of the Normal

Author: Queen Boadicea

Email: [email protected]

Disclaimer: This belongs to the great and powerful Joss and the usual gang of idi…uh, geniuses

Pairing: B/A

Distribution: http://www.fanfiction.ws

Feedback: Do your worst—it can't compare to my worst ;)

Notes: General spoilers for BtVS season six, episode "Normal Again"

[thoughts]

Cordelia tapped the vampire on the shoulder. "Angel. Angel. Hello? Earth to Angel? We need to talk about Wes….oh wait." Angel had learned to pick up on the strange note in Cordelia's voice that signaled the onset of a vision. Even though they no longer caused her pain, she always got a little dizzy after them.

He stood up quickly, supporting her back. "What is it, Cordy? What did you see?"

She screwed up her face as she attempted to sort out the chaotic images. "It's a room with windows set high near the ceiling…a basement I think. I can see Willow, Xander and a blonde girl I don't recognize…oh, and Buffy's little sister." Her eyes grew wide as she spotted the demonic creature in the room with them.

"They're being attacked. Some waxy-looking demon with a real hair follicle problem in a ragged coat is going after them."

"Where's Buffy? Do you see her anywhere?"

She sighed inwardly; of course he'd be more concerned about Buffy than the others. "I don't see—wait, there she is. She's…" Her voice trailed off and Angel felt a familiar dread seize him.

"What? What's happening to her?"

She lifted her gaze to his, confusion written across her face. "That's…it doesn't make any sense. She's in a corner watching the others and she's not doing anything."

Cordelia was right; that didn't make any sense. The vampire questioned her more closely. "What do you mean? Is she injured or tied up?"

Gunn walked into the room. "Hey, what up? Our favorite seer getting more Technicolor info from the PTB?" Angel waved his hand impatiently in Gunn's direction, signaling him to be quiet while he kept his gaze trained unwaveringly on Cordelia's face. "Oh, right. Mum's the word."

"She's not injured. At least, I don't see any wounds or anything. She's just sitting there while that demon is killing her friends."

Angel sank back absolutely horrified by the news. "That can't be right. Buffy would never sit idly by while her friends are in danger. Are you sure that was Buffy you saw, Cordy?"

Her temper flared. "No, it was her celebrity lookalike! Of course I'm sure, Angel. For some reason, she's opted out of the fight while this thing makes mincemeat out of her old high school buddies." Seeing his mouth open, she quickly interjected, "And don't ask me why. The PTB give me visuals not explanations. I don't know if she's under a spell or hallucinating or whatever. I only know what I saw. Buffy's friends are going to die…and she's going to let it happen."

Angel glanced outside. There was less than two hours to daylight; he was sure he could make it. "I'm on my way, Cordelia." He paused as he waited for her automatic protest. "Aren't you going to tell me not to go?"

She rolled her eyes wearily. "As if that would stop you. No, you're meant to be there, Angel. I may not get much from my visions but I got that little. Go, go. Rescue your lady fair. Or, in this case, her hapless sidekicks."

He grinned and squeezed her arm. "Thanks, Cordy. You're a real sweetheart."

She grimaced as she watched him run out the door. "Oh sure. All the guys say that. Then they never call."

Angel parked quietly outside the house on Revello Drive. It was deceptively quiet in there and he could see no signs of trouble. Not for the first time he wished that Cordy's visions came with some sort of timetable. When was this disaster supposed to occur? Within the day? The next two days? What if he was caught off guard? He wanted to use his cellphone to call his seer but he knew she'd given him all the information she had available. In the meantime, he would have to find some place secluded near Buffy's house and wait.

The day passed excruciatingly slowly and Angel felt as if the sun would never set. He'd managed to find an empty crypt that was on Buffy's rounds and silently shadowed her from a distance. He was worried about her. In the past she'd always been able to sense him but now she went about her business as if completely oblivious to his presence. Her scent was brought to him on the wind and he sniffed deeply, frowning. Her smell wasn't right. There was the usual tinge of vanilla, overlaid with a bitter odor. It was unidentifiable but under it lay something else, something familiar…

Spike. His eyes widened and a tremor of anger ran through his frame. The odor of his grandchilde was on Buffy. The peroxide vampire had been with his mate and recently, too, by the smell of it. As he crouched in the shadows, debating whether to confront her about it, he saw the vampire in question approaching her, holding a bag of groceries.

They were chatting about Xander's wedding of all things and Angel felt mild surprise. Xander Harris had been married? And Spike had been in attendance? Who paid for that wedding? He smirked at the idea of anyone voluntarily inviting Spike and decided that he'd probably just crashed the party. Then again, by the sound of it, the wedding hadn't gone through after all. Something had happened to upset it and Harris had abandoned his prospective bride at the altar.

Spike said that some people didn't know a good thing when they had it and by that Angel realized that he wasn't talking about Harris so much as Buffy. She'd dumped Spike and this was his oh-so-subtle way of taunting her for it. Then Willow and the donut boy himself showed up. Xander rebuked Spike for hovering around Buffy, and Angel watched in amusement as first Spike sneered at Xander for leaving his would-be bride and then the whelp socked Spike hard, scattering his groceries across the graveyard.

[The boy's learned to defend himself. Good for him.] Before things could get any worse, Angel saw Buffy collapse onto the ground. The bitter odor he'd noted earlier had returned, stronger than ever, and he noted with alarm that his former beloved looked disoriented, as if she were unaware of what was going on around her. Spike offered to take her to his crypt, an idea that was swiftly rejected.

"She's our friend. We'll take care of her." With that dismissal, Xander put one of Buffy's arms around his neck and helped her leave with Willow. [Great, Harris. I knew I could count on you.] The dark-haired vampire listened to Spike call out that they should put ice on her neck and watched his grandchilde disappear unhappily into the shadows.

He considered whether he should go after Spike and decided that, while the dyed menace could certainly use a good talking to (or a sound beating), Buffy's welfare was more important. Reluctantly he edged after her, following her home.

Angel easily climbed the tree outside her window and crouched in her bedroom. Cracking open the door a notch, he could hear everything from his hidden vantagepoint. Buffy related how she'd been having flashes of being in a mental institution, how a doctor kept telling her that nothing in her life was real. Her mother and father had been there and he could hear the faint longing in her voice as she related their presence. As he continued to spy on his dear Slayer, he felt the cellphone in his coat vibrate silently.

Trying to fish it out and keep an ear open to the ongoing conversation, he whispered sharply, "What?"

"And hello to you, too, gorgeous. How's everybody's favorite brooding vampire?"

"Lorne, unless you've got something useful to say, now is not the time."

"Gotcha, Angelface. While we had a dickens of a time digging through the books without Wesley's invaluable help, we did manage to get the lowdown on your Sunnydale critter. It turns out that it's a Glarghk Guhl Kashmak Nik demon."

"That's either its name or you were trying to hack up a hairball," Angel dryly responded.

"Oooh, the man made a funny! And Cordelia says you have no sense of humor. Anyhoo, the long and short of it is, our poster boy for the Hairclub for Men can inject its victims with a poison that makes them start to have powerful hallucinations. Instant schizophrenia."

He continued to listen to the murmured conversation from below stairs. "Any cure?"

"Yep. The demon produces its own antidote in the same stinger on its arm it uses to inject its victims. All you have to do is catch it."

Angel listened as Willow said in a too-bright voice that it was time for research. "Is that hard?" he asked.

"The things are wicked strong, Angel. Contrary to their smooth waxiness that looks like a baby's behind, the skin is as hard as nails. You need someone with vampire-like strength to bring 'em down. Lucky you're on the job, eh, buttercup? They like to hide out in really dark places, like caves or woodland areas."

"Thanks, Lorne. I think I know where I can find this thing. I'm on it." He slid out the window again just in time to intercept Harris as he came out the door. "Hey, Xander."

The man must have jumped two feet and yelped in fright. "What the—Angel? What are you doing here? Man, I am so not in the mood to deal with you now, Deadboy."

Angel was amused by the old nickname. Some things never changed, it seemed. "Good to see you, too, Harris. I understand you have a Glarghk Guhl Kashmak Nik to track down."

"How did you—?" Xander's eyes narrowed and he looked back to the house. Understanding of where Angel had sprung from came over him and his fists clenched in anger. "Still lurking around Buffy, huh? Look, she's got enough to deal with having Spike on that front. She doesn't need any exes taking up the slack."

Angel's lips thinned when Xander mentioned the other vampire. But he couldn't tell if the man knew of Buffy's affair with Spike or not. Judging by his contemptuous but relaxed attitude when encountering Spike in the graveyard earlier, he assumed not. Either way, he decided not to mention his knowledge of Buffy's and Spike's involvement. "Relax, Xander. I'm not here to renew things with Buffy. Cordelia got a vision; I'm here to help."

"Well, we've got things under control here so you can…wait a minute, did you say Cordelia got a vision?"

Angel started walking to the car as he sketched Xander in on some of the things happening in L.A. "Cordy gets visions from the Powers That Be. They let her know about demons and the people who need rescuing. Then the L.A. team and I get on it."

"So that's why you're here? Cordy saw this Gargle Gaggle demon in a vision?"

Angel nodded. "And if Cordelia saw it, that means I'm supposed to help. Don't worry, Harris. I'm not here to start anything with Buffy again. From what I saw earlier, she's in good hands with you and the others."

"Yeah. I guess."

The morose note in Xander's voice didn't escape Angel's notice. Casually the vampire continued, "I heard you were going to get married. What happened?"

Xander snapped, "I really don't want to discuss that with you, okay? It's none of your business."

"Did you go over it with your friends? It's good to talk things out with people that care for you. I get that now. It's what I've got in L.A."

Xander shot an angry glance at Angel's face but detected no sarcasm there. He didn't know what to say. That vision of himself in the future had shaken his self-confidence to the core. He badly wanted to discuss this with someone and he'd been really low on male buddies since Riley and Giles left. Still, it wasn't as if he and Angel had ever been close…

"…and it wasn't real, I know that. Anya said it was all smoke and mirrors, you know, the demon messing with my head. But it was just like all the things I've seen with my own folks: the fights, the screaming, the hostile teens with major bugs up their butts, the drunken useless father, the bitter mother with a chip on her shoulder the size of Texas. Fun for the whole family."

[Wow, guess Xander really needed to talk.] Once the floodgates were opened, he couldn't get the man to shut up. Angel kept an eye out for their quarry while talking to the agitated man beside him. "You wouldn't do any of those things, Xander."

"I know—I think. But it was so bad; how could I tell Anya about it? Or the others? I don't even know how it ended. The reel just cut off, like an old film in a really ancient crappy school projector."

"You saw yourself killing her."

The calm statement floored Xander. How could Angel have known that? "Yeah. That was it. How—?"

"It's one of the reasons I left Buffy. I could feel Angelus beneath the skin, getting close to the surface, whenever I was near her. After Jenny Calendar, it was just too risky. Being around Buffy always made me fear losing control and, after Angelus appeared, I couldn't take the chance of that happening again."

"Really? She never told us that."

"I never told her. She wouldn't have believed it. Buffy was …she was always too willing to think the best of me. She'd never have believed me if I said I was afraid of murdering her. So I told her that I wanted her to have a normal life with a normal boyfriend. I wanted what was best for her. It was one reason. It just wasn't the main one."

Xander gaped at him and struggled to process this information. He'd been fiercely glad when Angel had taken off and made no bones about showing his satisfaction to the others. It was probably why Buffy had hidden Angel's return from hell from him in the first place. She wouldn't even speak of her meeting with Angel after she came back from the dead. It had been too intense, she said. It must have been painful as well. And she couldn't tell him because he hated Angel so much.

Suddenly he felt the urge to apologize. Angel had helped them out countless times, before and after he'd lost his soul. He'd even rescued Xander after Faith had tried to strangle him. Xander had never thanked him for any of it; he'd only urged Buffy to forget him and fly into the arms of the first loser that came along. Boy, was he a jackass. No wonder he'd dumped Anya at the altar.

His attempts at deep thinking were interrupted by the vampire pacing at his side. "Xander, I'm only going to say this once and, if you tell any of the others I said it, I'll deny it. You're a good man. This Anya, whoever she is, is lucky to have you. She's an ex-demon and, speaking as one who knows, finding good people who'll love you with that blot on your family crest ain't easy. You have to go back to her, tell her what you told me and beg her to take you back—on bended knees if you have to."

"But the visions—"

"—were garbage. Ignore them. You're a decent man, Harris; nobody who would stand up to Angelus to protect the woman he loves like you did could be anything less. Go to her."

"Okay." They walked in silence for a space, Xander shining his flashlight through the trees. "So why don't you do that?"

Angel blinked at the abrupt change in topic. "What are you talking about?"

"Seems to me you've got the same problems with Buffy I've got with Anya. You take off with the excuse that you're not good enough for her. But really you're all of the 'you always hurt the one you love' syndrome which we both know is a bunch of crap."

"Well, the possibility that I'll kill Buffy is a lot more likely to happen than the possibility you'll kill Anya."

Xander snorted in amused contempt. "What gives you that idea? Oh right, the fact that Buffy solidly kicked your ass the last time you tried it. Face it, Deadboy, you won't kill Buffy. You can find a way to seal your soul down tight so Angelus won't get loose. You're not scared you'll kill Buffy. You're scared of making a life with her."

Angel glared at him. "That's bullshit, Harris, and since when are you on board with me being with Buffy? You were always jealous of me back then."

Xander shrugged uncomfortably. Angel was right and he certainly hadn't given him the impression that his feelings had changed. "Let's just say that time's given me some perspective and, like I said just now, you and me are in the same boat. We both got super women we don't exactly deserve trying to love us. We're just letting stupid macho worry get in the way.

"Tell you what. You try working it out with Buffy and I'll give it a go with Anya. What do you say?"

The offer was really tempting and Angel was stumped as to what he should say. But Xander was waiting for an answer and something told him the boy wouldn't be content with a brush-off. Suddenly he heard something in the bushes and stiffened. "Hold that thought, Xander."

"Wait a minute. You're not getting away with—" His comment was cut short as the demon they were searching for came leaping out of the dense foliage.

"GRRRRRRRAAARRRGGGH!" Damn, this thing was ugly, with its blank shiny eyes, misshapen head and ragged coat. The bitter odor he'd smelled on Buffy was a thousand times stronger, making the vampire's lip curl. He swung hard at the creature, connecting with its jaw. Its head swung around but it punched back easily; the blow barely seemed to have phased it.

Xander lifted his tranquilizer gun and shot the monster in the chest. It roared from the pain and charged again. "Xander! Shoot it again!" The monster seemed to realize the human represented a threat as well and turned to attack the brunette Scooby. Angel grabbed it around the neck and tried to keep it from assaulting his partner. [That's the trouble about working with mere humans. You're always worrying about them getting their tender little skins and fragile bones damaged.]

Just moments after the irritated thought came to him, he watched in disbelief as Xander tripped over a tree root. Somehow the bumbling Scooby managed to shoot the creature once more. But the monster barely appeared to feel the tranks and Angel lost patience and twisted its neck. The creature slumped in his grasp as Xander staggered up. "I certainly altered his reality!" Angel winced at his feeble attempt at humor and hauled the beast onto his back. He tossed his keys to Xander.

"Pop open the trunk when we get back to the car, okay? I don't want to drag this thing through the streets."

After chaining the creature in Buffy's basement, Angel didn't really need to stay. But something told him his mission wasn't over yet. The events in Cordelia's vision had taken place in the basement. When the crisis came, Angel wanted to be sure he was there to help.

He stood outside the house and waited until all the lights in the house had been turned off. Then he climbed up the tree outside her window and slid through the open frame.

The vampire crouched by her bedside and watched his beloved sleep. He could do nothing but stare at her and recall all the times in the past he would commit this very same action. The bond between them had been so strong in those years that his proximity would be enough to send every nerve in her body tingling. They had always remained hyper-aware of each other and surely now she would feel his presence and awaken.

But she remained asleep and, scanning her face in the dim light of the window, he sorrowed at the other obvious changes in her. There were deep hollows under her closed eyes and he just knew that if they were open, he'd see the wretched look that had haunted him after his one brief meeting with her in the past six months. Her eyes twitched restlessly beneath those lids as if she was dreaming but the night visions were evidently giving her no peace of mind.

"Angel." Her voice was soft but clear and he stiffened. Had she sensed him? No, she was still asleep. She murmured his name again and he realized she was dreaming. Did she dream of him still? He dreamed of her, on occasion. But they were nothing like the prophetic visions they used to share and he knew they had no significance other than to remind him of what he had lost. He never mentioned them, either to Willow when she placed one of her infrequent calls to him or his crew. They would only have worried that he was sliding back into old patterns.

"Angel, please don't leave me." The words came out with a stifled sob and he felt a constriction inside his chest at the pain in those few words. This was merely a nightmare, a repetition of their breakup. But he couldn't help taking one of those small hands in his own.

"I'm here, Buffy. I'm right beside you." It was a mistake to do this, one he was bound to regret later. But Cordelia's vision had sent him here to help Buffy in her hour of need, and he was sure that didn't mean merely a vicious fight to protect her friends.

"I don't want to lose you. But he…telling me…I have to let you go. Let the others go." Angel frowned. Willow was working frantically to extract an antidote but it would take time. He decided to keep speaking to her, hoping to draw out whatever was plaguing his beloved.

"Who keeps telling you? Talk to me, I'm listening." She tossed restlessly in the bed and he went still, wondering if she would awaken. Her hand tightened on his but she settled down when he squeezed back reassuringly.

Her voice began to mumble slightly. His vampiric hearing picked it up but he could make no sense of anything. "Doctors…mom…she'll stay if I get rid…I don't have…Dawn's not…mom and dad…want to keep…want to get normal…no such things as vampires…"

Now that was alarming. Whatever was afflicting Buffy, it was apparently trying to convince her that vampires didn't exist. This had to be the work of an enemy, someone who thought to put the Slayer out of action with a mental assault rather than a physical one.

If she forgot about vampires she would forget about him, and that thought pained him more than he would have believed possible. He wanted Buffy to get on with her life; that's why he'd left her. But he didn't want her to force him from her mind entirely. After all, he'd never forgotten her. That's why he'd rushed to her side so swiftly when he'd heard she was alive.

Her breathing quickened and he released her hand, preparing to slide through the window and disappear, when her eyes flew open and met his. For a long moment, there was nothing but silence in the darkened room and then she whispered, "Angel?"

He stood there, debating whether to speak and it seemed to alarm her. She sat up in bed, her hair falling over her ears and he said the first thing that came into his mind. "Buffy. Have you—have you cut your hair?"

She blinked and the dazed blank look in her eyes appeared to sharpen. "Angel? Are you…what did you say?"

He gestured feebly. "Your hair—you've cut it. It-it looks nice." Oh boy. That was smooth. It was the first time he'd seen her in months and he was talking about her hair? He must have mumbled something to this effect because she smiled at him. It was a ghost of a smile, a pale imitation of the bright expressions that always used to light up her face, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"Angel. It is you." She stared at him as if drinking in the sight of his form near the window. Then clouds drifted across her face and she drew her knees up, rocking herself back and forth in the bed. "No. No, it's not him. It's not him. He isn't real. None of this is real."

He drew near her and touched her hand again, distressed to find it now shockingly cold. "Buffy, it is me. It's Angel."

She shook her head violently and her muttering grew louder. "No, the doctor said this is a fantasy. I got upset that dad left so I made up a father figure with Giles. And then I was sorry to leave all my school friends behind so I invented new ones along with a new boyfriend. That's all you are—a figment of my diseased brain."

She tangled her hands in her hair, tugging at the strands, while banging her head against the headboard. He caught hold of her skull, afraid that she would really hurt herself. "Buffy, I'm real. I don't know how I can prove it to you but I am real."

"Then why are you here? You disappeared out of my life and now you're suddenly back when it seems I might be getting better? That's way too much of the convenient. It's just another trick to pull me back. I don't have vampires for boyfriends, witches for gal pals and Keys for sisters. That's just stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…." The words turned into a droning litany and he could tell that he was losing her.

"Buffy, concentrate! Tell me how this happened." He spoke sharply; he hoped the brisk no-nonsense tone would help to anchor her.

The chanting stopped and she squinted as if trying to gather her wits. "How this happened." She giggled foolishly and then shrugged. "If you ask the doc, he'd say it started when dad left me. Classic abandonment issues, that's his phrase. My dad left me, you left, then Parker, Riley and Giles. I started having sex with bad boy Spike because he wouldn't leave me. Get it? Pretty simple when you look at it like that."

Rage and sorrow tore through Angel when she mentioned Spike. Part of him had hoped it wasn't true, that she hadn't really slept with that dyed asswipe. But here was the truth from Buffy's own lips. Still, there was such a forlorn note to it all as if she'd merely been running from some deeper internal pain that had afflicted her for years. And he had helped to wound her.

[Forget about Spike. Stick to the here and now. That's what she needs not a jealous fit about your pestilent grandchilde.] "I'm not talking about the doctors. I'm talking about how you suddenly came to see us as a delusion. There's an outside influence involved—someone who wants you to think that nothing around you is real. Do you understand that?"

She remained silent for a long while as if she hadn't really heard the question. Then she began speaking slowly and haltingly. "There are a trio of guys. I-I think they fancy themselves supervillains or something. They have comic book and sci-fi fetishes and they've been playing with my mind. Last night I was tracking them, and a demon attacked me. It stuck me with a long thin pokey thing out of its arm."

"A waxy looking demon with a bald head?"

Her head shot up and she stared at him. "How did you know?"

He smiled at her surprise. "Cordelia. She had a vision; that's why I'm here. She's a seer, remember? I told you about this when we met last year. Xander and I tracked the demon earlier. We caught it and Willow's preparing the antidote as we speak."

Her eyes clouded over again and her mouth twisted unpleasantly. "Which proves zip. If you're part of my delusion, of course you'd know. And Cordelia being a seer? That's even crazier. She isn't any more real than you are." She tried twisting away from him and he clutched her even tighter.

Damn, how was he going to win this? She was floating in and out of lucidity and her denial was going to get her friends killed. "Buffy, Buffy, please. You have to stay strong."

She gave a wild laugh and one elbow came up to jab him hard in the ribs. He gritted his teeth against the pain but his grip loosened enough for her to wriggle out of his grasp. She scrambled off the bed and stood beside it.

"Yeah, that's what you all say. 'Buffy's the strong one. She can take anything.' So I get yanked out of Heaven back to this hellhole—excuse me, Hellmouth—and find myself saddled with all sorts of burdens that I shouldn't have to deal with! I have to pay bills, manage my klepto sister, keep house, take out garbage, buy clothes, hold down a job and somehow, somehow, deal with a demon population and three adolescent nerds who want me dead. And I'm expected to stay strong!" Her last words came out in a hiss of real fury and she glared at him, her breath coming way too quickly.

"How can this be real? How can this be anything that I want? I want to be a real girl with a normal life. I want my parents, my mom and dad. I tried, I tried really hard to deal, but my support group, my so-called friends, hurt me so badly and now they're falling apart and leaving me to pick up the pieces. Xander, the normal one, leaves his fiancée when a demon shows at their wedding, Willow's barely holding it together with her cold-turkey program since she got off the magic, the dyed vampire I was banging hips with keeps pestering me even after I broke up with him and my little sister's giving me grief at every turn.

"And now…now my one true love who walked off and abandoned me shows up to tell me to be strong. Talk about irony." She sat down hard on the floor as the adrenaline provided by her anger left her suddenly. "My doctor says I created you out of all the boys I ever loved to make up for losing them and then you left because deep down I feel I don't deserve love.

"Why should you care about me? I got chucked out of Heaven because I wasn't good enough. So even God doesn't want me." Angel couldn't restrain a shiver as she spoke. Those last words were eerily reminiscent of what Darla had said to him when she came back. "No matter how good a boy you are, God doesn't want you. But I still do." That hadn't been any comfort to him because he'd known her return was a trick to weaken him.

But here was Buffy, wallowing in self-pity because she felt abandoned on all sides. And—Heaven? He had thought she was in Hell. That's what Willow had told him when she'd boasted about getting Buffy back. He should have known when he saw her last year. She'd seemed so profoundly unhappy. She hadn't behaved at all like someone who'd been rescued from a hell dimension and now he knew why.

Did the others realize this as well? If so, why hadn't anyone told him? Though it seemed as if he'd been left out of the know on a lot of things. No wonder she was so miserable.

"I do care about you. That's why I'm here. I care about you—and I love you."

She stared at the floor and sighed. "That's nice. Spike says he loves me, too."

He glared at her casual dismissal and coupling of him with Spike. "Spike's got an obsession about Slayers. Believe me, I know."

She nodded without looking up. "Yeah, he made that pretty clear after the first time I screwed him. But I felt so wrong and kept going back to him because he made the emptiness go away…at least for a little while."

He slid off the bed and sat on the floor beside her. "If you felt that way, why didn't you ever tell me? You could have picked up the phone and called."

"So could you. I figured if you didn't, then you didn't care. After all, you were the one who left." She leaned her head against his shoulder and her voice became distant and dreamy. "You know, even if this is a delusion, it's better than any other I've had recently. In the morning I'll wake up and you'll be gone and it's back to the doctors asking stupid questions, the nurses with their pills and the orderlies with their bed checks. This may be only another trip to Bizarro World but I'll take it." She closed her eyes and he could almost feel her drifting away from him.

He jostled her roughly. "This isn't a dream, Buffy. None of this is. You've had a hard time and I'm sorry I haven't been here for you. You have to believe in this, believe in yourself, or your friends will be the ones to suffer." There was no response and he spoke hurriedly to her. "If I'm still here tomorrow, will that convince you this is all real?"

She raised her head and stared at him again. He could sense her sudden upsurge of hope and behind it the deeply hidden terror of being hurt again. "Maybe." But her expression closed off once more. "But all that means is that you'll leave later. I know how this scenario works. Hope, romance, love, abandonment. The Buffy special. Film at 11."

"Love, I never meant to abandon you. I left you to gain a better life."

"Didn't work, did it?" was the flat response. "Maybe it's time to try something new." She stood up and swayed slightly as if tiredness were catching up with her. "See you in my dreams, Angel."

She tottered back to the bed and threw herself down ungracefully onto the mattress. He tucked himself in behind her. "Goodnight, Buffy." There was no response from her and the tenseness of her muscles meant she was still wide-awake. He began massaging her back in slow circles and gradually felt the tightness loosen and vanish. In mere minutes, she was putty under his hands and he heard her breathing slow and flatten into steady rhythm as she drifted off.

Angel lay there wakefully for many more hours, cradling the blonde Slayer in his arms.

Dawn wondered how Buffy was this morning. She'd been far off and spacy ever since…she didn't really like to think it, much less say it. But there was no ducking the truth. Buffy had been dead and it had changed her. Many days, her younger sister had wondered if Willow had really done the right thing by bringing her back. Then she'd hate herself for thinking that and mercilessly stomp on the idea.

[I'm glad Buffy's back. If she weren't, I'd be stuck with Dad and have to share him with his new wife.] Of course that was a completely selfish reason for wanting her sister back but she couldn't help it. She wouldn't be sorry for having Buffy back...even if her sister was having trouble coping.

Lately Dawn had taken to waking early. It was distressing to get up and not find Buffy in the house so she would pop into her sister's bedroom to see that she was there. Not that she was checking on her older sister or anything. It was just more reassuring to know that her big sis was still around the place.

[Face it. You're worried that she's going to die on patrol or bail the way she did that summer after she sent Angel to hell.] She hesitated outside Buffy's door, chewing her lower lip. Yep, that was the big worry. Getting Buffy back hadn't made Dawn any less afraid of what was out there in the world. If anything, it made her more nervous than ever.

That's why she often begged for Buffy to take her out on patrol. She accepted that Buffy couldn't protect her always. Why couldn't she share this with her sister? That might bring peace of mind to both of them.

Resolving to bring up the topic another time when she felt Buffy might be in the mood, Dawn rapped at the door. "Hey, Buff. Time to wake up and smell the breakfast. I'm making your favorite—pre-packaged cereal." No answer and she was certain Buffy hadn't gotten up before her. Had her sister gone out again last night after that demon had poisoned her?

She pushed open the door only to have it pulled open on the other side. She stumbled forward and found herself staring into a broad masculine chest. "Dawn?" came the soft voice. "Shhh. Keep it down. Your sister had a rough night."

She blinked and gazed up at the last face she ever thought she'd see. "Angel? What are you doing here? I mean, when did you show up? Did you and Buffy boink?"

He clapped his hand over her mouth before she could babble out any more questions and gently eased the door shut behind him. When they were standing safely in the hallway, he removed his hand and said, "Cordelia had a vision, last night and no, not that it's any of your business."

She looked at the door shut behind him and unconsciously lowered her voice. "Cordelia had a vision? What, she, like, sees things in her head now?"

He smiled at her avid curiosity as he tried to explain. "That's pretty much it. She saw a vision of you and Buffy's friends being attacked by a demon and she sent me down here to investigate."

Her face twisted into a sullen pout, an expression that reminded him eerily of her older sister. "Oh. So you're just here to help and then you'll take off again, huh?"

He shifted his feet at the hostile accusatory tone in her voice. "Well, I have to. I have work back in L.A."

She shrugged in typical teenage fashion. "Figures. That's what Riley did, too."

Angel's eyes narrowed at the mention of Buffy's old boyfriend. "The commando? What does he have to do with it?"

She gazed shrewdly at his face while she debated how much to tell him. She'd once thought that Angel leaving Buffy had been the best thing for her sister. She didn't understand how Buffy could have been in love with someone who made her so miserable all the time.

But she had seen that the happiness Buffy apparently got from Riley was just a put-on she copped to make her friends feel better. She used to get a special expression when she thought of Angel that made her appear to glow on the inside. She never looked that way with Riley. Ever after she'd started dating the soldier, Dawn had sometimes heard her crying Angel's name in her sleep.

And now here was Angel, back again, and still jealous about Riley. Dawn shrugged again, staring at Buffy's door. "Riley showed up a couple of weeks ago. He was in town to get a demon, too, and he needed Buffy's help. He kinda failed to mention that he was married. I know Buffy never loved him but she was really upset that his life turned out so well while hers was so crappy. He used her to find the demon, then he and his wife—who basically was Buffylite, if you ask me—took off in a chopper. Buffy was pissed about it but she never said anything. She never does. You know what she's like."

Buffy hadn't loved Riley? He hadn't known that. She had stated rather emphatically that she did when she came to warn him about Faith's arrival in L.A. But it seemed she had wanted to hurt him and she'd succeeded. "Oh. So Finn just left again," was his only comment.

"Yep. Just like you're gonna do, I'll bet. Good thing Spike's hanging around. He's been really helpful while Riley's been off playing demon killer in the jungle."

Oh yeah, that struck a nerve. She saw Angel's face take on a decidedly grim look and then he turned back to the door. "I-I have to check on Buffy, Dawn. I promised her I'd be there when she woke up."

"Really? Well, that would be a first," was the teenager's tart reply and she turned around, her hair swinging behind her as she ran down the stairs.

He mused about Dawn's parting words as he lay down beside Buffy again. It seemed she wasn't the only one who'd disapproved of his walking away into the fog. Dawn was only a kid, though. She couldn't understand the complexities of adult relationships. Still, he'd spent a large part of the night thinking about where he stood in Buffy's life.

He'd never forgotten his golden-haired Slayer. He was honest about that. Having her in his arms made him feel—right with the universe. It was as if everything came together and made sense. Two warriors being together, loving together and fighting the good fight. Buffy loved all of him, good and bad, in a way the others at A.I. never did or understood. Would it be so terrible for him to keep himself in her life, especially seeing how badly off she was without him?

He remembered what Xander had said to him last night. The man made a lot of sense. It wasn't easy making a life with demons, even ex-demons, but the former donut carrier of the Scooby gang was willing to try. Why should he prove any less up to the task than a mere mortal?

His train of thought stopped as he felt her stir in his arms. She rolled over, curling into him, her arm moving over his. He was absolutely still as he felt her breath on his lips. She was so close, close enough to kiss and the temptation to do so was overwhelming. Just as he was debating the wisdom of remaining in his current position, her eyelids parted and hazel orbs stared into his own dark gaze.

"Angel." Her voice was calm as if this were nothing more than she expected and her fingers reached up to caress one cool cheekbone opposite her own. His eyes were locked onto hers and, for what seemed like an age, neither of them moved or spoke. "You're still here."

"Yes, beloved." The word escaped him easily and he felt no wish to call it back. She was his beloved, the beauty both he and Angelus laid claim to. If he thought he could ever confess it without fear of frightening her, he would tell Buffy just how much his demon thought her the perfect partner to itself—a capable, powerful warrior. Why else had he never been able to kill her when his worser half had re-emerged?

"Then I'm not dreaming. This world is real." He nodded as her hand slipped down and touched his chest. It wasn't a sensual touch at all. She was checking for the lack of a heartbeat and was absurdly reassured that there was none to be felt under her warm palm. After a moment she sighed and pulled away from him. "I should go see to Dawn."

"That's not necessary. She came in to check on you."

Her eyes widened in embarrassment. "She did? Then she saw you, didn't she?"

He nodded and glanced at the bedroom door. He could detect Dawn's unique scent. She was hovering at the door, spying on her sister. "Yes, and she's listening in now. I think she's worried about you." There was a sharp squeak and he heard her footsteps scurrying off.

Buffy scowled and rushed towards the door. "Dawn! What did I tell you about listening at doors!"

An indignant shout came from downstairs. "I was just going downstairs to make breakfast! Give me a break!"

She banged the door shut and looked at Angel. "So what happens now?"

Angel stood up and faced Buffy. She was lucid enough for the moment. Anger seemed a good way to keep her focused. He could only hope that Willow had the antidote ready for her. "We should see what Willow's managed to accomplish."

Buffy shook her head as she stepped closer to him. "That's not what I—"

Suddenly the door swung open again as Willow walked in, cradling a mug in her gloved hands. "Hey, Buffy, I've got—Angel! What are you doing here?"

He smiled ruefully at the red-haired woman. He was genuinely glad to see the wicca again. The circumstances were certainly happier than the last time they'd met. She had brought his beloved back from the grave. True, Buffy didn't seem too happy for it but he couldn't regret having her back in the world. "Guess I should get used to that reaction. I thought Xander might have told you about me."

"Oh, he did. He just didn't tell me you'd be…here here. I thought you'd help him find the demon and then take off the way you do, not that you'd be of the here in Buffy's bedroom," she finished lamely.

Buffy's eyes swung between the two of them. "That's right. You mentioned something about helping Xander last night," she mused. Then her accusing gaze fixed on Willow. "How come you didn't tell me he was here?"

Angel jumped in to defend the redhead. "I told them not to tell you, Buffy. I honestly didn't want you to see me. I-I thought it would make you too upset."

"Then why did I wake up and find you in my room? Why did you stay?" Buffy wasn't sure whether to be angry or not. Why was Angel here? Was it just because of Cordelia's visions? The vampire himself seemed a little uncertain and Willow hovered near the door, wondering if she should leave.

"I just wanted to watch you, Buffy. I didn't think it would do any harm. You weren't supposed to wake up or find out I was here. But you were so troubled; you kept moaning in your sleep. Then when you woke and looked at me…I just couldn't leave you."

They gazed at each other and the air seemed to vibrate with unspoken longing. To Willow, it was just like being in the past. When Buffy and Angel got together, it was as if nothing else existed in the world but themselves. Being with them was like intruding on a private moment; it felt more intimate than the frankest sexual discussion by Anya.

"Uh, guys? The reason I came was because I got the antidote here." She held up the ceramic cup in her small hand. "Buffy, you should drink this while it's warm." She thrust the cup into Buffy's hand and silently edged out of the room, glancing back at the two of them.

Buffy held the cup for a moment as if disinclined to drink it and Angel frowned. "Buffy, what is it? You heard what Willow said."

"I know. It's just…" She bit her lip and stared into the cup as if trying to find answers. "I don't remember much about last night, Angel. But things don't seem any clearer this morning. I mean, things are supposed to seem better in the daylight, right? But they don't. My life is still this unreal jumble and you're still the undead boyfriend I can't have. I drink this and the world goes back to being a meaningless mess. In that other world, I'm insane but at least they're trying to make me better."

"They're trying to make you better here, too. Didn't you see how concerned Willow was? How much she wanted to help you?"

Her eyes became fixed in a glassy stare. "Willow? The witch who dragged me out of Heaven? Yeah, she's a help, all right. She's trying to keep me here in this hellhole. Why? Why does everybody want me here so badly when they're all going away? Why does anybody want me?"

Her hand was dipping imperceptibly lower and he jumped forward, grasping the cup before it could spill. "They want you because they're your friends. They care about you. Buffy, I can't say this enough."

"Sure, they care. They're all about the caring and sharing and humping and dumping. My friends are such a comfort." The acrid odor of the demon was back and Buffy's pupils had shrunk to tiny pinpoints.

Angel put down the cup on her nightstand and grabbed her, but she sagged in his grip. She would have fallen if he hadn't held her up. "Buffy! Buffy! Please! Stay with me!"

"Buffy? Honey, what is it? Can you hear me?" Joyce Summers was stroking Buffy's hair and staring worriedly into her daughter's eyes. The psychotic flashes weren't going away in spite of the doctor's reassurances.

Buffy murmured, "Angel?"

Joyce frowned and glanced at the doctor. "I remember Angel. She kept babbling about him in the beginning. He was that vampire boyfriend of hers, wasn't he?"

The doctor nodded. "That's right. You told me she'd been seeing some dropout before she left Hemery. What was his name?" He flipped through his papers.

"Pike. You said Angel was a replacement for him," Joyce offered.

"In almost every detail. Bad boy in leather," was the doctor's reply.

Joyce scowled at his description. "Yes. I never liked him."

The doctor moved closer and critically examined the crumpled blonde woman on the bed. "And when you all moved out of L.A., Buffy lost touch with him."

Hank Summers spoke up then. "Thank god. It was one of good things about leaving L.A. But I thought she was seeing that Spike character. Wasn't he another vampire? Why can't she get away from them?"

Just then Buffy blinked and refocused on her mother. "Mom? Dad?" There was her mother, looking exactly as she had when she was alive—all radiant and glowing although her face was slightly creased in worry.

Joyce smiled at her. "Yes, sweetie. It's us. Are you with Angel?" She nodded while struggling to reorient herself. She was in this place again, perched on the bed. Angel was gone and her anxious parents were talking, trying to convince her to stay with them. Did she want to? Was this really what she wanted?

She had her mom and dad here. That was of the good. But everyone else was gone. They insisted on her throwing out everything else in her life.

"Buffy? Buffy! Please! Come back to me." She blinked and she was in bed again. Only this time, it was Angel holding her. "Buffy, talk to me." He couldn't tell if he was getting through to her or not. "You told me once that fighting was hard and that it's everyday."

"I'm tired of fighting," she whispered, letting her head droop.

"Then they want you to give up in that world. They want you to give in."

Was that what they were asking of her—to give in? It sounded so tempting to Buffy…and so very comforting. "Ye-no. They want me to be strong."

"Then why is it all about letting go?" he demanded. "Doesn't that sound too convenient, too easy? You wouldn't let me do it." She knew what he meant—that magical Christmas when it had snowed in California—saving him from death by sunlight. Angel continued, "Fighting is hard. But you convinced me not to let go, to hang on. So we'll try. We'll both try. You have people who love you, who care about you. No one here is asking you to let go of the love your parents have for you or the love you feel for them. You carry that inside even if they're not with you."

She wasn't answering but he could tell she was listening to him. "If these people are asking you to put aside all the good your friends have done for you, then something's wrong with them. Fight, Buffy! Fight for yourself. Fight for me."

"For you? Why? You're not here. You'll disappear like you've always done. It's ridiculous that you're even here now. Next thing you know Giles will come strolling through that door, too." Buffy's eyes became dull again.

"Buffy, please!" He shook her but she didn't respond. He contemplated simply pouring the drink down her throat but he didn't want her to choke.

"Angel, what's the matter? I heard shouting." Willow ran back in and stared in shock at the limp body of the Slayer cradled in his arms.

He started patting Buffy's face. "I can't get through to her, Willow. She won't listen to me."

She crouched by his side and rested her hand on Buffy's forehead. "Oh goddess. She's burning up. Buffy? Can you hear me?"

She didn't move only continued to stare sightlessly at the ceiling. Willow glanced worriedly at Angel, panic beginning to appear on her pale face. "Keep talking to her, Angel. Maybe it'll help."

He stared helplessly at her, wondering if that were true. All at once he was reminded of that time she was afflicted with the demon blood that made her hear everybody's thoughts but his own. He had saved her then and he became fiercely resolved not to give her up now without a struggle.

"Buffy, listen to me. I love you. I've always loved you. In 250 years I've never loved another woman like I've loved you. We've both been through so much and circumstances seem against us and yet we always wind up back together.

"I've got some crazy things going on in L.A. but the moment I heard you were in trouble I came back here. Why? Because no matter how good things get for me, nothing's complete unless you're in my life. Nothing makes sense if you're not here with me. If you stay for me, Buffy, then I'll stay for you. I don't care how hard things get, how many apocalypses are thrown at us. If we love each other, we can find a way to make it work."

For several long seconds there was no response. Then a spark deep within Buffy's eyes flickered and they fastened on Angel again. "Angel? My mom and dad…they keep telling me to be strong."

"You are strong, beloved." Sensing her imminent surrender, he carefully reached up and brought the mug to her lips. She began sipping, her eyes never leaving his, grimacing slightly at the awful taste. She shuddered as the last mouthful went down her throat and then lay quietly.

The wicca and the vampire sat tensely, waiting for some response. And then Buffy's eyes moved towards her redheaded friend. "Willow?"

"Yes, Buffy?"

The blonde woman smiled faintly. "I'm really hungry. Is there any breakfast in the making?" Willow's breath rushed out of her and she hugged her friend as best she could. Buffy's arm came up to grab her. With Angel's massive arms in the way, the three-way hug was a little awkward yet welcome, all the same.

Dawn peeked in the door and was confused but happy to see all three together. "Uh, guys? Is everything okay or does Buffy still have demon juice cooking her brain?" Willow pulled back to show the Slayer safely held in the circle of Angel's embrace.

"I'm all good to go here, Dawn." Then she frowned as something occurred to her.

"What is it?" Dawn asked in response to her worried look.

"We've still got a demon in the basement, don't we?" The other three glanced at each other as they all remembered the bald-headed monster downstairs. Buffy sighed and scrambled up. "Well, first I kill it 'cause, Slayer, that's my job. Then we'll have breakfast."

Willow stood up, grinning, and poked Dawn in the arm. "Come on, Dawnie. Let's go whip up some pancakes and breakfast flakes." The two ran downstairs, their voices rising in audible relief.

Buffy and Angel stood awkwardly for a few moments before quietly following them. "I've got a weapons chest downstairs. Xander made it for me for my birthday. There ought to be something suitably sharp and pointy to deal with Captain Picard."

"Mind if I join you? I won't interfere, I just want to watch your back." As they strolled down the stairs, Buffy halted and Angel bumped into her as they confronted a familiar figure standing in the hallway. "Spike."

The flatly spoken syllable caused the blonde vampire to smirk in her direction. "Morning, Slayer. Back in the land of the sane, are we? Glad to see—" His voice cut off and he glared as he caught sight of Angel's large body behind Buffy. "What the hell is the poofter doing here?"

"I could ask you that same question, Spike. I thought I made it clear where we stood last night," Buffy replied coldly. Now that she was back in the clear light of day, she was amazed at how small Spike looked.

It wasn't just size exactly. It was in terms of sheer insignificance. All the time she'd been with him, he'd carped on how wrong she was, how deficient, how she liked rolling in the dirt. He'd never made her feel strong, powerful or protected. Just a few small words with Angel and she had remembered everything that made her feel good about herself—both as a woman and a Slayer.

Spike sensed the change in her attitude and bristled at the implications. "What? You think he can just blow back into town and everything will be back to the way it was? Forget it. You've moved on, Buffy. You know it and I know it."

He stepped closer and his voice dropped, becoming low and insinuating. "Come on, Slayer. You know you've never had it so good as me."

"No, Spike. I had better. I almost forgot that. But he reminded me." She stepped down boldly invading his space. "He came here to help me and he succeeded. In all the time I was with you, you never did that. You always went on about how wrong I was. You tried to make me feel pathetic, worthless and weak. Because of that stupid message, I nearly chose to stay insane. But if I'm better now, it's thanks to him. So you can just drag away your useless carcass.

"You're not wanted here."

The blonde vampire's face never lost its cocky sneer. "You're only saying that because the giant poof's standing here. But I'm betting he'd take off soon enough if he knew what you've been up to."

"I already know, Spike." The low statement caused both blondes to stare at him. Buffy turned pale as she caught sight of Angel's face. But he didn't look angry—at least not with her. "From what she says, she ended the ugly little affair. Not that I blame her for it. She was probably hurting and unhappy when she took up with you. Funny how being with you didn't make her feel any better."

"Oh, great! All it takes is for the soulful nancy boy to show up and all's right with the world, is it? You know what he'll be like, Buffy. He'll get all remorseful and take off again and it'll be just you and me again, luv." He grabbed Buffy roughly and tried to kiss her. He didn't care if Angel was back; Buffy was his and he was determined to prove it the only way he knew how.

She brought her leg up in a swift jab and kneed him solidly in the balls. As he yelped and stumbled back, he groused, "Fuckin' hell! Save the rough stuff for when we're alone, Slayer! No need to bring it on with an audience." He straightened up and reached for her again.

She idly slapped away his hand and then shoved him so that he tripped and fell hard onto the floor. "Spike, you're being really stupid, even for you. You're acting like I broke up with you because of Angel. Fact is, I dumped you before I ever knew he was coming back." She paused and then finished, "And he is back, Spike. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a demon to kill."

The woman walked past him, head held high, and Angel followed her. Neither graced the fallen vampire with so much as another look.

Spike scrambled up off the floor, another snappy retort already forming on his lips, when he caught sight of Willow and Dawn staring at him from the living room. Shock and disgust were mingled in their eyes and he knew they must have caught at least part of the conversation. "Uh, morning, ladies."

"Spike, get out." The cold order came from Dawn. Willow didn't speak but the hostility in her expression was very clear.

Uh oh, the Nibblet was pissed at him. Spike tried to smooth things over. He genuinely liked Dawn and he wanted to remain in her good graces. "Look, Dawn, your sister and I have been going through some things—"

"And it sounds like she's finished, at least on her end. How about getting the message and leaving?"

"Come on, it's not like I forced her or anything!"

The redhead spoke up at last. "No? 'Cause it didn't look that way just now. She said it's over, so it's over. No means no, Spike, even here in America. Now get lost. We've got breakfast to fix." Willow tossed him his blanket and pulled open the front door.

Spike hesitated but the women's gazes remained implacable. He covered himself with the material but couldn't resist one last parting shot. "You people are really begging to get your throats ripped out, you know that? One happy sex session—"

The last of his words were cut off as Willow slammed the door behind him. She locked the door and turned to Dawn. "I know I swore off the magic but if I can't get hold of Tara, I'm throwing up the de-invite spell again. I don't want Spike coming back here." She cast an uncertain eye at Dawn. She knew the teenager was still antsy about her using magic again and she had promised the others she would stay away from it. But she knew just how dangerous Spike could get and she didn't want to take any chances of his reappearance at the house now that Buffy was finally getting on an even keel.

"No arguments in this corner." An unhappy expression appeared on Dawn's face as she thought about the ugly scene that had just played out. "Willow, how long do you think Buffy and Spike were…?" Her voice trailed away as she remembered all the nights Buffy came in with bruises and scratches on her body and evasive stories about a run-in with a demon.

"I-I don't know, Dawnie. We'll just have to wait for Buffy to tell us."

"It's—she was lying to us and keeping secrets and it was just so wrong! How could she do that to us?"

Willow reached out to Dawn. The teenager was getting mad again and the wicca sensed a major tantrum in the offing. "Dawn, you heard what Buffy and Angel said. She was hurting and Spike took advantage. She was probably ashamed and was afraid we'd be all of the judgy—sorta like what you're being now."

The teenager chewed her lip for a moment and then admitted to herself that she was being judgy. "She still shouldn't have lied to us," she mumbled.

Willow raised her eyebrows and replied, "And what should she have said exactly? 'Hey, guys, I'm having hot skanky sex with Spike. Pass the butter?' Face it, Dawn. This wasn't something she felt she could talk to anybody about."

"Not even you?" Dawn asked.

Willow's eyes became haunted, as she guessed exactly why Buffy wouldn't have mentioned it to her. "Especially not me. If she was shacking up with Spike because she felt so lousy, then she wouldn't have wanted to talk to the reason for the lousiness, now would she?"

"I guess not." Dawn paused while she considered something. "Didn't Buffy say she was going downstairs to kill that demon?"

Willow wondered what she was getting at. "Yeah."

The teenager cocked her head as she listened. "Well, they've been down there awhile now. Just how long does it take to run a demon through the guts with a sword anyway?"

The two females looked at each other and their eyes widened as they both came to the same conclusion. "You don't think they're—"

"No way, Dawnie. They wouldn't."

They hesitated and then both of them ran for the basement stairs. "Buffy! Angel!"

TBC