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There was something going on inside the castle. From her location inside dungeon, Buffy didn’t know what it was exactly, but it gave her the wiggins. It reminded her of a time not long ago when an evil clan opened the Hellmouth. Everything that happened before it was very tense, as if it were building up to something big and terrible. Xander interrupted her thoughts.
“Do you feel that?” he asked her quietly.
Startled by the tone of his voice, Buffy turned to her friend. He sounded so serious and distant-definitely not typical Xander. It was spooky. “Feel what?”
“The tension.” His brown eyes widened as he strained to hear something in the distance. The sun set long ago, and it was so silent she could hear someone sneeze a couple floors above her. A small torch on the wall outside the cage allowed very dim lighting.
Once again, a chill ran down her spine. She said uncomfortably, “Look Xander, it’s very likely we’re going to have a long day tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep.” He didn’t respond, so she reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder.
As if he was snapping out of a trance, Xander blinked. His head swiveled to face her once again. “You want top or bottom bunk?” he asked. With a child-like smile he added, “I’ve always been partial to the top bunk, myself.”
Buffy smiled back, relieved. “Then I’ll take the bottom bunk.” With that, she crawled onto the bed and closed her eyes. She could hear Xander crawl on the bunk above her. He tossed and turned a couple times, creaking the mattress.
“Night, Buff,” he mumbled finally. He sounded like a little kid.
Buffy opened her eyes and stared into the darkness, knowing that she would get no sleep. There were way too many worries for her to work out. Still she responded, “Night.”
“Argh!”
Amy Madison growled and glared at the book in front of her until it flew in the air and slammed mercilessly against a wall. < If I have to look at one more book, I may kill someone! I want to help, but there is a limit to how many words my brain absorbs. > The sudden noise broke the silence of the library, causing Oz and Giles to look up in surprise. Amy smiled innocently, “Uh, oops?”
Giles saw through her act immediately, most likely a result of his dealings with Buffy. He frowned and said testily, “I don’t appreciate you throwing around my books, especially the ones that are older than I am.”
Amy offered her innocent look again and answered, “They made books way back then?”
The librarian gave her a stern look and was about to respond when Oz cut in. The wolf-boy said, “Oh, yeah. They have lots of those now.”
The blond gave him a look of mock amazement, “Really? Old books? How fascinating. Next thing you know they’ll be having them in foreign languages or something.”
Giles looked confused. “But there are books in…” he said, then paused. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?” As the teens broke out in laughter, the Watcher glanced down at his watch. “I fear we’ve wasted another day in this blasted library.”
Amy stopped laughing abruptly and looked up at him strangely. From the corner of her eye, she could see Oz did the same thing. < That’s something I never expected to hear. > Her blond head tilted to the side and she raised an eyebrow quizzically. “You are Giles, right?”
He returned her question with a withering look. “Maybe you two should go home and get some rest.”
“It’ s okay, Mr. Giles, we don’t mind doing all this research. We can stay a little longer,” Amy offered.
The librarian considered this offer, then said, “Maybe you two should go home and get some rest before you drive me to the brink of insanity.”
“So noted,“ said Amy and Oz nodded in agreement. Then they stood and gathered their things. It was pretty much known that there was nothing they could do to bring back their friends. The ball was in Willow’s court, so to speak. But researching made them feel a little less helpless. Oz turned to Amy and said, “You need a lift?”
“Yeah, thanks.” She turned a worried gaze to the librarian. Usually, when she had a really big chemistry test, she would pull an all-nighter to study for it. Even so, she had maybe a sliver of understanding as to how Giles was feeling. So far, the Watcher spent about thirty-two hours in the past two days strictly researching. As a result, his eyes were tired and bloodshot, and he looked like he was going to pass out on the spot. “Mr. Giles, are you going to be okay?” she asked.
“Yes, thank you. I’m going to try phoning Wesley at the Council again. We might not have the Council’s cooperation anymore, but I think Wesley himself will be of great help to us. Then I, too, shall be heading home for the evening.” He glanced out the window at the setting half-moon. “Would it be too much trouble to ask that you return when you awake?” It was Thursday night. Tomorrow would be a school day for everyone else, but Amy and Oz both found ways to excuse their days. For Oz, it was a medical illness-he even managed to get a doctor’s note-and Amy forged a note from her father saying she would be out of town. Giles stood slowly and looked at his watch again.
Amy glanced at Oz, then said, “It’s no problem for me. I wouldn’t feel right being anywhere else.”
“I haven’t an elsewhere to be,” Oz said.
Giles nodded, then turned towards his office. “Wonderful. Then I shall see you both in the morning. Be careful.”
Willow awoke with a start and jerked up to a seating position. Her last nightmare had left her breathless. She was fighting a battle with her lungs to keep up. The fire died out long ago, and she could feel the chill in the room. She looked around and relaxed to find that she was still in the cottage. < It’s strange how at home I feel when I’m here. > The light from the coming dawn had begun to fill the room, giving her just enough to see where she was. Willow saw Cordelia sleeping peacefully. She could hear her friend breathing deeply as she dreamed. Then she looked on the floor and saw a sleeping form wrapped in a blanket. One of them was missing.
“Are you alright?” A voice said softly from across the room. Willow looked up to see Angel sitting in one of the chairs by a window, a blanket wrapped around his broad shoulders. His black eyes were like coals as he watched her actions.
“I had a frog dream. It gave me the wiggins,” she explained with a small smile. “What are you doing up so early?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he answered vaguely. Willow nodded slowly. < I know the feeling. > She was up most of the night, thanks to her nightmares and worries about her friends. She had noticed Angel’s upbeat mood the night before, and realized that some time during the course of the night he had returned to cryptic guy. It had to do with the disappearance of Buffy or the arrival of Spike. She wasn’t sure which.
At that moment, her green eyes rested on the sleeping form of Spike on the floor. < He doesn’t look so evil when he’s passed out. He’s actually kinda cute. > His white-blond hair was peeking out from beneath the blanket, and the dim lighting accentuated his cheekbones. An innocent smile played on his lips. “Did you try counting sheep?” she asked. Her attention focused back to Angel, who glanced at her in confusion. Then he slowly shook his head.
“I think I’m beyond sheep, Willow. But I appreciate the suggestion.”
Willow frowned. The last time they talked, Willow felt she had broken through his shell and finally got him to open up to her. Now he was back to closing himself off. The hacker climbed out of the bed and worked her way across the room, careful not to step on Spike. She pulled up a chair across from her brooding friend. “Angel, I’m your friend, remember? If something’s bothering you, I want to help.” He sighed and turned back to the window.
“You can’t help me. No one can.” The complete lack of hope in his voice brought tears to her eyes, yet Willow tried to remain calm.
“Won’t you let me try?” she pleaded softly.
Angel’s eyes turned back to the window, his voice harsh with the reality of the situation. “Willow, I’m cursed. I’ve had a demon inside of me for over 200 years. My soul is damned. How can anyone help me?” Despite his words, Willow felt better. < One point for Willow. I got him to tell me the problem. >
She responded, “The same way that you’ve helped all of us--with love and trust and friendship.” He looked at her, clearly showing his lack of belief in her words.
“Willow, there’s nothing that can be done. My fate is sealed.” Angel’s gaze turned back to the window. She saw the sadness in his eyes and fought with herself not to cry. Willow always tried to be there for her friends when they were in need. Angel had been there for her many times and saved her from the hands of death. Every time, she vowed to herself that she would return the favor. As he sat and watched the beginning of his first sunrise in more than 200 years, Willow made that vow again. This time it held a conviction that she had never known before.
Her next words, overflowing with emotion, came from her mouth without pause. “Angel, you shouldn’t think of your vampirism as a curse. Think of it as a blessing.”
“What? Willow, what are you talking about?”
She held up a hand. “Let me finish. Yes, you did a lot of bad things as Angelus. Yes, you’ll still be a vampire when you leave this world. But because of that curse-that demon that lives inside of you-there is an eternity for you to make up for those very sins that plague you now.”
Angel remained staring at the window. “An eternity in hell isn’t enough to correct my sins,” he said darkly.
The sky turned a pinkish shade of purple as the first rays of light rose over the horizon. Willow reached out and took his hand. Still no response.
Willow decided to try a different approach. She began softly, “When I was a little girl, I used to imagine Xander and I were superheroes. We would wear towels like capes and run around the room like we were flying. We would save the innocent from forces of evil. You should have seen Xander, he was so cute in his little Superman pajamas with the little feet and-” Angel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and she halted her rambling. “Sorry, off-topic,” she said with an apologetic smile. Then she continued seriously, “Well, I grew up. I met Buffy and through her, I met you. I learned that heroes don’t wear capes, they don’t always win and they don’t always fight because they want to.” She paused. “But they’re still heroes. They still spend all day, every day, trying to right the wrongs. That’s you.”
He remained silent, his expression frozen. Losing faith, Willow closed her eyes. Her eyes filled with tears and one rolled down her cheek. “You’re a hero, Angel, MY hero. You’re the bravest person I know. Every day, you fight the evil that plagues mankind. But you also fight the evil inside you. I know it seems to you that the road to goodness is a long one, full of obstacles and painful memories. But you’re already halfway there. The only thing stopping you now is yourself. Maybe you won’t reach the end of the road. Maybe it isn’t enough to want to be good. But don’t you think you owe it to yourself, to Buffy, to us all…to try?”
The sun rose over the edge of the Earth and cast its rays of light upon the land. It poured through the tiny window and brightened the cottage. They stared in silence and awe at the beauty before them. After what seemed like an eternity, Angel turned to Willow. Tears rolled freely down his cheeks, yet he did nothing to wipe them off.
“Thank you for believing in me,” he whispered, squeezing her hand. Through her own tears, Willow smiled.
Sometime in the night, a breeze swept through the dungeon. It was not enough to wake Xander, but it was strong enough to blow out all the torches in the underground dungeon. He awoke later to realize the meager lighting that the guards thoughtfully left out for them were extinguished, leaving them to bask in the complete lack of warmth and light. Xander’s eyes swept the cage frantically, but he could see nothing.
“Buffy?” the Slayerette whispered. He could hear her shifting in the bed below, but she had yet to speak.
“Yeah, Xand, I’m here,” she responded quietly.
Somewhere nearby, some poor person was being imprisoned. An angry voice cried out, “Your crime will be avenged!” They could hear a few grunts and a painful cry, then a cell door creaking as it closed. Another man’s voice-they assumed both were from guards, but couldn’t see in the darkness-spoke a few phrases in a foreign language. The way he spoke and some of the words he uttered reminded Xander of the spells Willow used to do, but he wasn’t sure. The room brightened for a moment as an orb of light formed around the man and his prisoner. Xander squinted to see what was happening, but was blinded by light. The sound of shuffling feet trailed off and all became silent and dark once again.
Xander waited a moment, then said, “That’s a little too aggressive even for Alcatraz, don’t you think?”
“Well, that’s a yes.”
“I hope they don’t punish all their prisoners like that,” he added in retrospect. < I hope they don’t hurt us like that. >
Buffy paused thoughtfully, then said, “I’d like to see them try.”
The determination in her voice made Xander smile into the darkness. He often looked to Buffy when things got tough, so when she lost hope, all was lost. She was a source of strength and confidence for the entire Scooby Gang, but him most of all. “Now that’s the Slayer I know and love,” he replied cheerfully.
She didn’t speak for a long time, and Xander began to worry. The combination of the atmosphere and the night’s events were taking a toll on both of them. Eventually she said, “Xander?”
“Yeah, Buff?” Something in her voice worried him more. < Fear? >
Buffy took a breath, then said softly, “I don’t know how to get us out of here.”
Silence. Xander contemplated making some kind of joke, something to hide how frightened he was. Instead he sighed and replied, “I know, Buffy. Me, neither.”
When Giles arrived at the school in the morning, the sun had just risen over the horizon. He suppressed a yawn, annoyed that he wasn’t tired when he wanted to go to sleep. The disappearance of Buffy and her friends put his worrying on overdrive, making it difficult to sleep. So he decided to return to the one place that put his mind at ease.
It was too early for the students and teachers to enter the darkened hallways, so he found himself walking through them alone. As a public building, any person or monster could--and did--enter at his own will. Because of this, the Giles held a stake in his right hand, prepared to strike if need be. Still, he was nervous. As a Watcher, he knew how to fight and defend himself. He just preferred not to. Giles peeked his head around the corner, checking for any unwanted guests. What he did see froze him on the spot.
It was Drusilla, dressed in a beautiful crimson dress. Her back was turned to him, and she peered into the darkened library through a small window on its entrance door. However, it wasn’t her presence that alarmed him, it was her appearance. She looked as she had in their previous encounters, with one noticeable difference. The Vampire was both transparent and glowing. Giles recovered from his shock and switched into analytical mode. He observed her for a moment before coming to the realization that she was a ghost.
Confident that she could do no harm to him, the librarian straightened his shoulders and walked over to her. “May I help you?” he asked calmly.
Drusilla spun around to face him.
Cordelia Chase stepped out of the cottage and slid on a pair of newly acquired sunglasses. < Ugh. I am so not a morning person. > Unfortunately for her, everyone else was. Willow and Angel had been up talking since the crack of dawn. Spike awoke shortly after, eager to enjoy his first and possibly last day in sunlight. Of course, he didn’t tell anyone else that. Despite their wary truce, the two guys went out in search of food, leaving Willow behind to wake up Cordelia.
Willow interrupted her flashback to the morning’s events. “Took you long enough to get ready,” she teased. Somewhere in her morning grumping, Cordy suggested that Willow do a spell to whip up some clean clothes for them to wear. Willow, of course, took her literally and produced a new set of clothes for each of the travelers and comfortable shoes for Cordelia.
Elated just to have clean clothes, Cordelia bit back a retort and sat on the steps next to Willow. “They’re not back yet, huh?”
“Nope,” Willow said, sounding apprehensive. < Uh-oh. Willow’s nervous. That’s a really bad thing. >
“They’re not dead, are they? ‘Cause that would be bad. I have this appointment on Monday that I just can’t miss.”
Willow just shook her head. “No, they’re not dead. And I’m sure they’re touched by your concern.”
“Then what’s bothering you?” Cordelia asked, oblivious to Willow’s sarcasm. She racked her brain, trying to figure out what it was. < Well, it can’t be Buffy or Xander. She knows they can take care of themselves. > Suddenly, it came to her. “It’s Spike that’s getting to you, isn’t it?”
Caught off-guard, Willow’s eyes widened and she replied, “No. I definitely do not have a thing for…Why would you say that?”
The May Queen smirked and said, “I never said you had a thing for Spike. I said he was the one making you nervous.”
“Oh,” Willow responded quietly. “Oh! Oops!” Her face turned red as she glanced at the brunette next to her. Cordelia grinned knowingly.
“You have a thing for Spike!” she cried out gleefully.
The hacker shook her head indignantly and replied, “I do not have a thing!” < Oh, yeah. Right. > It would have been believable if she wasn’t still blushing.
Cordy just laughed and Willow’s eyes dropped to the floor in shame and embarrassment. Cordelia frowned at the reaction. “There’s something you need to understand here, Willow. I’m not Buffy, or Giles, or Xander. I’m not gonna throw a fit ‘cause you have a thing for one of the evil undead. Besides, he’s a hottie. I say if you have a thing, that’s your business and yours alone.”
“Fine,” she mumbled resignedly, “I have a thing.”
Cordelia grinned widely. “I knew it! You do have a thing!”
A male voice rang out from the side of the cottage, “Willow has a thing? What kind of thing?” The two girls looked over to see Angel and Spike walking out, their arms loaded with food and supplies.
Willow’s eyes widened once again and she stammered, “A thing? There’s no thing…Nothing!” The redhead looked up pleadingly at Cordelia.
Cordy bit back laughter and said seriously, “It’s really nothing. Girl talk.” Willow nodded in agreement, too nervous to actually form words. The brunette watched in amazement as Willow’s cheeks turned several more shades of red. Spike, too, seemed to notice, while Angel seemed oblivious.
“Well,” Angel began, “I want to get going. The sooner we get to that castle, the sooner we get our answers.”
The brunette turned her amused gaze in his direction. “What makes you so sure that we’re going to find anything in that old castle?” she asked.
“Call it a feeling,” he answered vaguely.
Cordelia shot up an eyebrow. She didn’t like vague. “But-” she began to protest until Angel raised his hand to interrupt.
“Just go with it, Cordelia,” he said impatiently.
Cordy glared at him and retorted, “Do they teach rudeness somewhere or is it just something you’ve acquired over the years?” Angel blinked. Before he could say anything, she turned towards Willow and Spike. Willow was still staring at her feet, trying to rid herself of the blush in her face. Spike was watching the hacker intently, smirking at her expression. Cordelia smiled to herself, a plan forming in her head. <This is going to get interesting. > “You heard him, troops. Let’s move out,” she ordered, then headed towards the path. She saluted Angel as she passed him by.