See Part 1 for Disclaimer

Part 3

"That was the best!" Faith crowed exultantly as she and Gabriel started up the stairs in their building.  "Did you see the look on her face?  She looked like she was going to cry right in front of us!"

"Shut up, Faith." Gabriel plodded sullenly up the stairs behind her.

"Oh, come on, Handsome, " she chided, "You must have enjoyed that a little bit.  I mean every man loves to break a little girl's heart, whether he admits it or not."

They stopped outside her room and he regarded her stonily.  "Get me my pill."

"I suppose you deserve a reward." She teased, opening the lock and leading him inside.  He followed, fidgeting with the increasing craving that gnawed at his bones.

"You did pretty good out there." She complimented him, "What do you say we celebrate?"

"Give me the pill and let me leave!" he snarled, his patience strained by the pain of the craving.

"You know, I don't think I like the tone of your voice.  Maybe I was wrong.  Maybe you should wait a little longer for your pill."

Panic shot through Gabriel like a bolt of lightning.  "Wait!  I-I'm sorry.  I didn't mean it." He almost choked on the wave of self-loathing that welled up from within.

Faith smiled smugly, basking in the glory of his bent spirit.  "You want it?  Beg for it.  On your knees."

He fell to his knees quickly, his eyes swollen with hunger.  "Please, " he whimpered, "The pill, let me have it."

She backhanded him hard, snapping his head back and splitting his lip.  Her eyes filled with bloodlust, she pulled his head around by the hair.  "Keep begging.  I like the sound of it."

He started to hyperventilate and the words spilled shamelessly from his mouth, ceasing only when she hit him a second time.  She was panting now, charged up on the control she wielded, her eyes wild and lusty.  She struck him again, harder this time and drove the toe of her boot into his belly.  Groaning in perverse ecstasy, she balled up her fists and continued to pound him, thrilling to each impact.  Each time she struck, it seemed only to fuel her bloodlust.  Soon, her eyes were gleaming, her skin sheened with sweat as she rained a flurry of frenetic blows down on his tortured body.  He took the beating stoically.  The pain she inflicted was nothing in comparison to the great craving that was devouring him from within.  By the end, he would have told her anything as long as it meant cessation of the pain inside.

She left him weak and bleeding on the hardwood floor, groaning faintly.  She fished around inside her pocket and produced a small black globe.  Gabriel, one eye closed, the other swollen shut, sensed the presence of the drug and strained to get up.  Sneering, Faith flicked the small pill across the room to clatter against the far wall.  With fevered energy, Gabriel scrambled after it.

"I'm going to take a shower." She said, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth and strolling languidly into the next room.  "Make sure you're gone by the time I get out."

***

Mayor Wilkins pored over a small stack of trying paperwork.  "Come in, Faith." He said, without looking up from his work.

Faith sauntered in through her private entrance, a mixed look of confusion and curiosity on her face.  "How did you know I was here?"

"You don't think I would leave a direct entrance to my office unmonitored do you?  I don't trust that modern video surveillance equipment.  Nothing works like a good old warding spell."  He placed his pen carefully down on the desk and set his papers aside.  "Do you have something to report?"

"I was kinda hoping to surprise you." She revealed coyly, "But I guess there's no point in that, huh?"

"He's ready, then?" the Mayor could hardly contain his smile.

"Yeah, " she smirked triumphantly, "I tossed him against the wall and he stuck."

"Excellent." The Mayor rubbed his hands together, "It's about time.  I was beginning to wonder if that boy was ever going to learn.  See that he's brought to me immediately."

"What are you going to do with him?" she smiled, sharing in his excitement.

"Now that our boy is ready. It's time for a little re-education."

***

"I don't think I'm ready for whatever it is you need me to do." Gabriel said as he came through the door into a small, barely lit room.  "Maybe another pill will help me feel better."

Faith sneered and, placing her boot on his rear, shoved him harshly.  "You'll get another pill later.  Right now, the man wants a meeting."

Mayor Wilkins leaned patiently against the back wall, the single overhead lamp casting his face into harsh shadows.  A metal chair sat prominently in the center of the bare room.  Thick leather straps were attached to the arms and front legs of the chair.  Gabriel found that it reminded him of an electric chair.

"Gabriel, " the Mayor greeted cheerily, "Come in, have a seat." He patted the hard back of the chair.

Gabriel looked at the offered seat skeptically.

"Do it." Faith insisted venomously.

With surprising complacency, he sat down.  Faith immediately fastened the leather straps around his wrists and upper arms, then bound his ankles.  Lastly, she pushed his head back and wrapped another strap across his forehead.

"We're going to go through a little exercise today, Gabriel." Mayor Wilkins explained, smiling.  Withdrawing a small black book from his inside coat pocket, he flipped it open to an earmarked section.  In his other hand, he produced a small, nozzle-tipped bottle.

"I want you to think of her, Gabriel." Faith forced Gabriel's eyelids apart and held them while the mayor leaned over and deposited a single drop in each eye.  The liquid stung terribly, but he could not blink it away.  "Think of Buffy and what she means to you.  That's good enough, Faith."

Faith released his eyelids and stepped back, her eyes glistening with interest.

"I won't let you hurt her." Gabriel's voice seemed small and weak, but there was a filament of strength in it, like a stainless steel wire.

"Defiance?  At this stage of the game?" the Mayor placed the dropper bottle back in his pocket and looked disappointedly to Faith, "Oh well, I guess it doesn't really matter at this point.  On with the show, then."

He began to recite strange, alien words out of the tiny black book and made a sharp gesture with his hand in front of Gabriel's eyes.  The auburn haired young man shook violently in his bonds and his eyes rolled up in his head.  He groaned, his jaw clenched, and a thin trail of saliva slid out from between his lips.

"What are you doing to him?" Faith stared at his shuddering body, enrapt.

"Our partner, Mr. Giles, uses crude methods to control his son.  I'm just making sure my needs are met as per our agreement."  He produced a set of three wide, flat sticks of wood, one pink, one yellow and one green, and held them out to Faith with a genial smile.  "Here, keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't swallow his tongue.  The strawberry flavor is the most popular, I'm told."  The Mayor pushed the wooden slats into her hand and left the room.  "I'll be back in a few hours to see if our plan can proceed."

Floating between Gabriel's lens and cornea, a flashing series of magic-spawned images blurred into a single, unrelenting message.  The command pounded his weakened mind, tapping endlessly at a dozen cracks in his mental defenses that had appeared since he had first arrived at the mayor's office.  The cracks widened and the images seeped slowly in.  The message would not be denied.  ^Kill the Slayer.  Kill Buffy Summers.  She is the source of your pain, destroy her and your pain will end.^  The images flashed by too fast for the eye to perceive, but his mind was absorbing them.  And, slowly, the cracks widened.

***

Buffy leaned over the railing of Halfway Bridge, named so because it was almost half way from any place a person might want to go in Sunnydale.  The susurrus roaring of the water helped block out her memories, kept her from thinking too much about what happened.   Toying with a short-stemmed daisy between her fingers, she plucked absently at the petals.  One by one, the petals fluttered down into the rushing waters below to be swallowed up and lost.

"Loves me not . . . loves me . . . loves me not . . ." she whispered to herself, leaving the daisy with only a single petal.  "Yeah, right.  Whatever."  She tossed the rest of the flower into the river and rested her chin glumly on her arms.

How could he do this? She wondered to herself for the thousandth time.  She had instinctively headed for Angel when the pain had hit, but then she had turned and come here.  She felt so foolish for letting Gabriel get to her so easily.  The last thing she wanted to do was put that foolishness on display in front of Angel.  So she had opted to be alone for the time being.  If only I could talk to him, she lamented silently, I could find out what happened.

Her senses, though dulled by depression, warned her of someone's approach.  She whirled in alarm.  Less than fifteen feet away, Faith leaned casually against the railing.  With the roaring of the river, Buffy hadn't even heard her approach.

"What are you doing here?" Buffy advanced on her, hands flexing, ready for an attack.

"Just here to return a little something." Faith didn't move.  "If you want a piece of me, you'll have to go through him first."  Another person moved into view behind her.  It was Gabriel, or had been at one point.  His eyes were raw and red, his pupils dilated pools of vacant darkness.  His body twitched as he walked more fully into view, following some invisible lure.  It looked like he wasn't even aware of her.  Buffy thought she could hear a low, discordant sing-song emanating from his direction.

Faith looked him over appreciatively and held out a small black pill in her fingers.  Gabriel's attention snapped to the pill instantly.  "You know what these things are doing to him?" she asked with an ironic smirk, "Pretty cool, huh?"

"What did you do to him?!" Buffy cried angrily.

Faith's lips pulled up in a hateful grin and she shrugged.  "Who knows?v Why don't we find out.  Buffy!"

Gabriel's head snapped up at the mention of Buffy's name, a mad fire in his eyes.  Growling low and deep, he lunged at her with surprising speed.  Buffy ducked aside, blocking the crude attack easily.  He threw her arm wide in rage, tossing her aside as if she were a child.

The first time she had fought against him, his technique had been dazzling.  Now, his swings were clumsy and easily avoided.  Fortunately, Faith seemed content to remain a spectator for the time being.  Hopefully, she would get lucky and be able to knock him out before Faith decided to change her mind.  She spun and ducked around his heavy-handed attacks, scoring hit after hit, but nothing seemed to have an effect on him.  It was like he was immune to pain.

"What are you gonna do, B?" Faith called teasingly.  "He can go like this for hours.  So you either have to kill him or let him kill you."

"Forget it, Faith.  As soon as this is over, I'm going to kick your-" Her challenge was cut off as Gabriel dove headlong at her, catching her around the waist and driving hard against the metal railing.  Pain lanced through her lower back as they tumbled over the edge.  They hung, suspended in the air for endless seconds.  Then, as if gravity had finally noticed their challenge, they plunged at an alarming rate.  Buffy twisted and squirmed to escape, find some way to absorb the impact, but Gabriel would not release her from his maddened embrace.  Together, they tumbled thirty feet into the raging waters below.

The force of the impact blasted the air out of her lungs and she felt her arm snap wide, twisting at the shoulder joint.  Spatial orientation lost all meaning as up became sideways and the powerful current tossed the pair around like ragdolls.  Gabriel's grasp on her slipped and he was lost in the maelstrom.  Her lungs burned for air but she didn't even know which direction to struggle in.  Her mind became detached, separate from the chaos surrounding her body.  She could see light in one direction.  It had to be the surface. Scooping wide circles through the water with her arms, she plowed her way upward.  Breaking the surface, she gulped in a deep breath.  Air had never tasted so sweet.

A strong hand grasped her shoulder and spun her around.  Gabriel's forehead was bleeding profusely, running freely down the right side of his face.  His green eyes wild and filled with pain, he pushed her hard under the surface.  Struggling, she thrashed back and forth, attempting to loosen his grip.  Twisting one of his hands back on itself, she was able to partially free herself.

Disaster struck as the intertwined pair collided with a large, worn rock, Buffy taking most of the impact between her shoulder blades.  The force of the collision stunned her, robbing her weakened limbs of what little strength remained. Worse still, the air had been driven out of her lungs and her body instinctive tried to draw a new breath.  Kicking desperately, she felt her left foot skim something solid underfoot.  Pushing off hard, she rolled, taking Gabriel with her, until she broke the surface again.  Gasping, she fought to keep him from getting a solid grip on her.  Surviving a trip down the river in this condition would have been unlikely under the best of circumstances.  Fighting for her life with Gabriel would make it impossible.  Talking had already proven a failure.  She might have to resort to more drastic measures if either of them were going to make it out alive.

Growling like an animal, he wrapped his arms around her waist and locked his hands together tightly, pinning one of her arms to her side.  His face was awash in bloody water and his eyes were vacant and wild looking as he squeezed violently.  His strength was astounding, beyond anything she had ever felt.  Her back bent and she could feel her rib cage compress. Bringing her free arm around, she smashed an elbow down on the top of Gabriel's head.  The blow would have been enough to drop a normal man, but he didn't even seem to notice.  What have they done to him? She thought, darkness creeping into the edges of her vision.  Shoving any remorse she felt deep down inside, she repeatedly pounded her elbow into the top of his head.  He snarled in irritation and shook her viciously from side to side.  Her body jerked painfully, her ribs felt like they would fold over on themselves.

She could see another rock up ahead and a risky plan took shape in her mind.  Breathing out sharply, she sank, dragging Gabriel down with her.  Slowly, they drifted closer to the bottom.  Consciousness fading, she rolled back so she could reach the bottom before him with her shorter legs.

Digging her toes deep into the riverbed, she drove forward.  Gabriel recognized the ploy too late.  Twisting, he hit the rock sideways, his body wrapping painfully across the rough surface  His arms went limp and she easily slipped out of his grasp.  Paddling fiercely, she was able to keep her head clear of the rushing current.

Gabriel's body floated nearby and she quickly grabbed on to him, twisting her fist into his shirt to secure her hold.  She paddled with her free arm, making slow progress for the shore.  They had been washed far downstream and the river was wider here, the current less unrelenting.  Floating weakly into a shallow pool, she paused to rest for a moment.  Dragging Gabriel's dead weight, she collapsed, sliding in the chill mud.  His limp form flopped to one side, coughing up a lungful of water.  They lay unmoving for a long time, panting heavily in offset rhythm.

"I'm sorry." Gabriel broke the silence at last.  His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but somehow, it carried clearly above the sound of the rushing river.  "He said that it would all be over if I got rid of you.  He told me it would end the pain.  I don't know how I could have believed him."

She sat up slowly, leaning on one elbow.  His eyes were open, she could see, but his gaze was empty.  The madness appeared to have receded, at least.  Blood matted his hair and ran down his neck to mingle with more blood that seeped out of a hundred long, thin scratches across his chest.

"What do you mean?  What pain?" She carefully kept her voice under control.  She knew that there was something strange going on with him, had known it since he had left in the car with Faith, but it was hard not to let the hurt take over.

"My medicine.  I've been lied to.  It's some sort of drug.  I was too weak to resist it.  Too scared to kill myself.  I'm so sorry."

He let his head drop back into the mud, his eyes jammed shut and his face twisted in anguish.  Looking at him, the implications of what he'd said sank in.  His father . . .Her heart ached with pity for him.  "Come on." She pulled him to his feet, slinging one of his arms across her shoulders.

"No!" he cried and fought free.  He fell back into the mud, face first this time and lay there weeping.  "Without the pills, I'm going to die.  I deserve to die here.  Alone." The whimpering tone in his voice struck a nerve with her.  When she had first seen Gabriel, he had been confident and decisive, with a will of steel.  Now what she saw disgusted and enraged her.  Mayor Wilkins would pay for this.

"Get up!" she barked, nudging him sharply with her foot.  "The only way you're going to die out here is if you give up on yourself!"

"Please," he moaned weakly and rolled slowly onto his side, hot tears oozing from his reddened eyes to mix with the blood and filth on his face.  "Let it end here.  I can't fight anymore.  I don't have anything left."

Her face determined, she scooped him up again, careful to hold tighter this time.  Her shoulder throbbed, but she ignored it.  Half dragging him, she forced him to take a step.  "Wrong." She whispered, "You do have something left.  You've got friends."

***

"What do you mean he's gone?!" Peter cried in outrage.

Faith shrugged, unconcerned.  "Like I said, they both went over the bridge.  I watched the water for two hours and nobody came up.  I'd have to say they're fish food right about now."

Peter's face was flushed and blotchy with barely controlled rage.  "Do you have any idea how long I've spent conditioning that boy?!  He can't be dead!"

"Mr. Giles, please, calm yourself and have a seat." The mayor indicated a plush leather chair that was positioned directly across from his desk.  "I'm sure that if any sign of your son arises, my agents will bring it to my attention."

"You don't understand!" the englishman leaned abruptly over the desk and jabbed his finger toward the Mayor.  "That boy is my life's work!  My seventh son!  How often do you think such a child is born.  My once in a lifetime opportunity is gone now because of your bungling!"

The mayor took the accusation stoically.  "I'm sorry that you feel that way, Mister Giles, but you did sign an agreement.  You delivered as promised and you will be remunerated.  At the same time, " the Mayor shrugged, "your losses are your own affair."  Peter glared at the man across from him balefully.  His thoughts were plainly written on his face.  Mayor Wilkins was unconcerned.  "Good bye, Mister Giles.  Faith will show you the door."

Sneering, Faith gripped him tightly by the arm and steered him toward the door.  Peter snarled angrily as he was lead out of the room.  Faith gave him a shove into the hallway and slammed the door thunderously.

"You think he might be a problem?" Faith seated herself casually on the edge of the mayor's desk.

The Mayor's face puckered and he fussily shooed her up off the meticulously polished desk.  "I wouldn't be too concerned about that.  Besides, his work here is done."  Gleefully, his withdrew a small black agenda book out of the breast pocket of his suit and opened it to a list of tasks.  The first item, 'Kill the Slayer', was printed in bold letters.  Happily, he popped the cap off a pen and placed a neat check mark next to it.

Peter stalked up to his car, a compact, black Mercedes, and angrily threw open the driver's side door.  Dropping heavily into the seat, he turned the key in the ignition and drove away, tires squealing.  As the scenery whizzed by unnoticed, his mind whirled in shock.  His seventh son was gone, killed in the midst of his first true test.  The one who did it was dead too, it seemed.  Someone would have to pay.  Perhaps there was still a way to profit from this disaster.  With Gabriel gone, he would have to find another means for his revenge.  Taking a sharp turn, he smiled craftily.  He knew right where to go.

***

Buffy adjusted her grip on Gabriel's waist and freed one hand.  It had taken almost two hours to reach Angel's mansion and he had only gotten worse during the trek.  She was supporting almost all of his weight now. She wasn't even sure he was conscious anymore.  With only a momentary pause, she opened the large front door and dragged him inside.

Gabriel stumbled and fell down on his hands and knees.  His body was covered in sweat and shook uncontrollably.  He crawled weakly to the far wall and rolled over, pressing his back against it.  He closed his eyes and tilted his face toward the ceiling.

"How do you feel?" Buffy knelt down next to him and gently touched her fingers to his forehead.  She was cold, weak and tired but she was responsible for both of them for the moment and that meant she could worry about herself later.

"I can't breathe." He gasped, his lungs pumping laboriously.

"I'll get you some air." She went to the room's closest window and tugged on it.  The latch was stuck and she had to break it, finally, to get it open.  Cool spring air washed into the room, causing the thin drapery to billow softly.

"Don't worry about the window." Angel said from the shadows, "I need stuff to do during the long hours of the night anyway."

"Angel, " Buffy exclaimed in alarm, "I didn't think you were here. "I-We need your help."

He entered the room and flicked the light switch, lessening the gloom only a little.  Then he saw the shape she was in.

"What happened?!  Are you hurt?" he rushed to her and took her by the arms.  She sucked air wetly through her teeth and winced in pain.  Instantly, he released her.

"Nothing I can't handle, " she smiled weakly, cradling her injured shoulder, "But Gabriel isn't doing so good."

Angel turned and froze.  He had that look again, she realized, that troubled frown that seemed to verge on pain.  Standing impossibly still, he stared down at Gabriel's weakened form.  The two locked gazes for an instant.  Gabriel, pain-ridden and struggling to stay conscious, Angel as stone faced as ever.  Gabriel began to shake more violently and his jaws clenched together.  A shuddering moan worked its way out of him, a testament to the pain he was experiencing.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern.

"Withdrawal, by the looks of it." he said somberly, recognizing the familiar symptoms instantly.  "What's he been taking?  Do you know?"

She caught the edge of her lip between her teeth in thought.  "It's something weird, they look like little black marbles.  Is he going to be okay?"

"It's too soon to tell, really." Angel frowned, "Let's see what we can do for his wounds first.  You, too.  You're a mess.  Will you be okay to take care of yourself while I deal with him?"

"Hey, if anyone has had experience with self surgery, it's me." She mused, "I'll be fine."

"Good," he said, visibly relieved.  "Bathroom's upstairs.  I'll clean him up while you're up there."  He bent and started to pull away Gabriel's torn shirt.  She hesitated in the doorway, watching the two.  She trusted Angel to know what to do, but she wished she could do more herself.  As her adrenaline began to fade, the pain in her body, particularly her shoulder, returned.  A long, hot shower was just what she needed.  She plodded up the stairs and closed the bathroom door behind her.

Angel took a moment to start up a fire in the hearth.  When the flames were roaring heartily, he tossed in the remnants of Gabriel's shirt.  He returned to where the boy lay, silent and shivering.  The wounds on his chest weren't deep.  As long as they were kept clean, they wouldn't be a problem.  There were a lot of bruises and evidence of recent beatings, as well as a thin gash in his scalp just above his forehead.  It looked like it had already scabbed over and was beginning to heal.  He was apparently as resilient to physical punishment as Buffy was.  No problem there.  That left only the addiction.

Angel was not pleased with this.  During the sixty or so years he had lived in New York, he had seen hundreds, perhaps thousands, of faceless addicts come crashing down in the streets.  He had rarely seen any of them get back up again.  Judging by the boy's symptoms, he was already in deeper than most of them had been.

How had Buffy ended up with someone like this?  Probably the same way she had ended up with a vampire with a soul, he chided himself silently.  If Whistler had taught him anything, it was to not judge by appearances.  He resolved to give Gabriel the benefit of the doubt.

He knelt forward and turned the boy's face to the light.  His pupils were tiny dots in a sea of pain-filled green and yellow as he stared blankly at the wall opposite him.  His body shuddered constantly.  Suddenly conscious of the vampire's presence, his eyes sharpened into focus and he straightened, forcing his shaking under control.  He's tough, Angel mused, I'll give him that.

"The pain must be hell." he commented, slumping back against the wall next to Gabriel

"It is." Gabriel answered through gritted teeth.

"Trust me, it will get worse." Angel answered unsympathetically.  He stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.  He suppressed the urge to say anything further.  It bothered him to see Buffy care for someone else like this.  What they had together was eternally strong, but he still harbored the feeling that this young man was an intruder, an interloper on the sacred territory that he and Buffy shared.  His feelings were wrong, however.  She was free to do whatever she pleased with whoever she pleased and it was not his place to stand in the way of that.  This is what atonement is all about, he reminded himself.  Doing what you know is best instead of what feels best.

"So you're Giles nephew." Angel mentioned conversationally, "Funny, you don't sound like you're from England."

"I'm not.  I was only born there." Gabriel seemed to scowl at the memory, "Where is Buffy?  Why am I here?"

"She's upstairs, getting cleaned up." Angel answered, "And she brought you here because she thinks I can cure you."

"You don't have a cure, do you?"

Angel looked down at him and shook his head sadly.  "There is no cure for what you've got.  The only way out is the hard way.  You think you can do it?"

Gabriel pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, squeezing tightly.  His face tightened, the muscles in his jaw taught, and went white with pain.  Another spasm, Angel realized.  He's too proud to hurt in front of anyone.  He's got a lot to learn. 

After a minute or two, the spasm passed and Gabriel's body slowly unclenched.

"Here." Angel draped his long coat over the weakened young man.  "Sorry I don't have a couch or anything for you to lay on, but I haven't really had much time to go furniture shopping lately."

"Why are you helping me?" Gabriel's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he still accepted the coat.

"Buffy's told me a lot about you."  Angel seemed to be considering the answer for himself, as well.  "She believes in you.  And I trust her judgement."

"I tried to kill her.  Would you call that good judgement?" Gabriel whispered bitterly.

"I've known Buffy for a while now.  She wouldn't bring you here if she thought you were a threat."

The two sat in awkward silence for long minutes, broken only by the near silent recurrences of Gabriel's spasms.

"Do you love her?" Angel asked suddenly, his face carefully blank.

Gabriel's body shook in the departing throes of another spasm.  His skin was paler now and sheened with cold sweat.  He struggled to rise, his red rimmed eyes blurring in and out of focus but remaining cautiously fastened on Angel.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The vampire assured him, "This isn't about jealousy, it's about Buffy being happy."  Inside, however, he wasn't so sure.  Keeping his distance from her was hard enough.  How could anyone else be as right for her as he had been?  "This isn't the best time for this, I know, but later it may be too late.  Do you love her?"

"I don't know." Gabriel settled back slowly, more out of physical weakness than any sense of ease.  "So much has happened since I arrived here.  My mind is a mess.  I need time to sort it all out."

"She cares about you." Angel said, "And I care about her.  I need to know that she'll be all right.  I need to know if you're strong enough to stand by her.  Do you understand what I mean?  No, I don't think you do."  He sighed and let his head sag a little.  "Buffy is special.  Sometimes what someone wants to do and what someone needs to do aren't the same thing.  Decisions like that can change your life forever."

The words echoed painfully in Angel's mind, a forerunner to what he knew he would have to do.  Soon.

"I read my uncle's Watcher's journal." Gabriel said in a low voice tinged with resentment, "I know what happened between you.  And I know what she's been through because of you."

Angel's face constricted with shame and he looked away.  "That was a long time ago." He said softly, "Longer for me than anyone else, but it will haunt me until the day I die."

They sat together in another awkward silence until Gabriel broke the tension.

"You're going to leave her, aren't you?" he said.

Angel went rigid with shock.  "I thought about it.  It seems like the only way for either of us to have a normal life.  How did you know?"

"Why else would you be doing this, trying to find her a protector?  Someone to watch over her when you can't?" Gabriel whispered low and resolutely, "You can't protect her from everything.  She has to make her own choices.  Buffy's spirit is strong, even stronger than you think."

Angel felt a green, razor-tipped icicle jab his heart.  "You seem to know her pretty well for having been here such a short time." He commented curtly.

"I have the Sight." Gabriel rubbed his fingertips against his eyelids.  "It's not working very well right now, but you'd be amazed at what I see sometimes."

"So why didn't you see this coming?"

Gabriel pressed his lips together tightly, his green eyes turning dark and brooding.  "The Sight only shows me things.  It's up to me to interpret.  I guess there are some things I just don't want to see."

"And some things you just can't handle seeing?" Angel smirked empathetically, feeling the beginning of a curious kinship with the young man.  "Yeah, I know what that's like.  Maybe waiting before you decide what to do about Buffy is a good idea after all."  He pushed away from the wall and stood up.  "Just don't wait too long."

"Wait too long for what?" Buffy inquired curiously as she strolled into the room.  "I showered as fast as I could.  Did you need to get in there or something?"

Angel started and spun around.  "Buffy, " he exclaimed, "you're back."

She was wearing her sodden, mud-encrusted clothes again, but her hair was freshly washed and she looked a little more vibrant than she had fifteen minutes ago.  The fire had warmed the room to a comfortable level, although it would take her clothes some time to dry out.  Accepting a blanket from Angel, she wrapped it around her shoulders and crouched down to see Gabriel.

"How are you feeling?" she whispered softly, as if normal volume might cause him further pain.

Gabriel coughed harshly, a deep wracking sound, and sat back with a groan.  "I haven't felt this terrible since . . . well, never." He joked weakly.

"Nice attempt at the funny." She smiled, gently touching his arm, "Does this mean that you're going to live?"

"I hope so." He breathed weakly, his eyes half closing with pain.  His body shook more violently this time than any other and a pained moan escaped him.  The cords in his neck stood out like taut wires and his jaw clenched against the seizure.  Under Angel's borrowed coat, his hands knitted together tightly.  Buffy didn't know what to do.  For all she knew, he lay dying in her arms and she had no idea how to help.  She looked to Angel, but he only watched grimly.

When the seizure was over, it left him wheezing and weak.  Buffy leaned over him, concern creasing her forehead.

"You nose is bleeding." She gasped, accepting a tissue from Angel and pressing it to Gabriel's upper lip.  He coughed on the trickle that ran down the back of his throat, spraying her with tiny crimson flecks.

"I feel hot." Gabriel muttered, clawing Angel's jacket off him and kicking it aside.

Buffy pressed her palm to his forehead.  "You're burning up.  Let me get a cloth."

"In the kitchen, " Angel directed, watching her rise, "under the sink."

She returned with a cool, dripping facecloth.  Kneeling down, she allowed Gabriel to lay across her lap, and draped the damp cloth across his forehead.  His closed his eyes, and coughed weakly, his hands pawing blindly at the collar of his shirt.  She tugged his hands down and pressed them to his sides.  "What can we do now?"

"Now is the hard part." Angel intoned solemnly, "All we can do is wait."

Continued

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