SPOILERS: This takes place after Angel loses his soul but before Becoming, which never happened in my 'verse. I will keep and discard Buffy lore as I see fit.

It was close to sunrise when Angelus finally emerged from his bedroom with a very dazed Willow in tow. It had taken him a couple of hours to recount their history for her. Every time he would reveal some other fantastical tidbit, such as how Buffy was the vampire slayer, now a vampire; that he too was a vampire and that she was an up and coming witch, he would be forced to stop and spend 20 minutes assuring her he was not playing a prank on her. He'd finally convinced her he was serious, but only after showing her his fangs, which he allowed her to explore with quivering digits. In the end, she'd accepted what he'd told her, figuring it would all make sense once she got her memory back, which Angelus maintained wouldn't take long. He promised her the best medical attention money could buy, since he was as anxious as she was to recover the lost memories.

Angelus led Willow through the house, giving her the guided tour she'd been denied earlier. Willow remained silent, absorbing where everything was located distractedly, wondering where in this labyrinthine house lay their ultimate destination. When they stopped in front of a nondescript wooden door at the end of a long, dark corridor, Willow felt her heart begin to race. Angelus paused with his hand on the knob. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Willow bit her lip, nodding. As the door swung open, Willow held her breath, her eyes moving from the pretty blonde sitting cross-legged on the bed to settle on the figure she'd come to see. She entered the room with slow, deliberate steps, ignoring the girl she assumed was Buffy to stand before the man in the corner. His arms were raised above his head, the metal cuffs digging into his wrists, drawing blood that ran down his arms in shockingly bright rivulets. He was naked except for his jeans, which were caked with both dirt and dried blood, the original blue coloring lost. Even his night black hair was matted with his blood, causing the wavy strands to clump together. The skin of his chest was torn open, every available inch of flesh covered with wounds, some fresh and leaking drops of blood like tears, others older, their lips curling into ugly, dark scabs. Something in Willow's chest tightened at the evidence of the torture this man had endured, but she hardened her face, repeating in her mind that he deserved it.

As if sensing he was being watched, Angel pried his eyes open and found himself staring into two cypress colored pools of hatred. The eyes bore into his own, stark accusation and distrust probing his heart. Angel shut his eyes, his heart clenching in agonized defeat. He'd prayed with all his soul that he'd never have to see that hatred in her eyes, directed towards him. He'd screwed up, and now they were both paying for it. Self-hatred welled up inside of him over having hurt her.

From a distance, Angel heard his demon ask, "Do you recognize him, lover?"

Lover. The word went through Angel's body like a bolt of lightening. He watched as the hatred in her eyes clouded over, replaced by emotions he couldn't read. It was almost as if a veil had descended, closing him off from her. When he spoke, her voice sounded strange to Angel's ears. He wondered if perhaps Angelus had punctured one of his eardrums earlier, and then realized that it was the tone that was disturbing him. There was a detachment he'd never heard from her before. "No, there's nothing. I. I can't remember."

Angel sucked in his breath, wondering what her strange words meant. He tried to form words around the pain in his chest but found it too difficult. Unable to look away from Willow's eyes, Angel was caught off guard when strong fingers tangled themselves in his hair, yanking his head upwards. The muscles in his neck screamed in agony over the mistreatment. To his disgrace, he couldn't stop himself from moaning.

Angelus stared down at him. 'I can see how you might not recognize him. Adrian hasn't had much beauty sleep these last few days. He's also picked up a few scars since you've last seen him. I assure you though, this is the same man."

Angel forced the words out of his throat. "What kind of game are you playing?"

Angelus looked at him blankly. "No game. I'm merely reintroducing Willow to the man that tried to kill her. The man that's the cause of all of her pain, including her current state of memory loss."

Angel blinked, his body in too much pain to react any other way. "She's lost her memory?"

Angelus nodded, making sure his back was to Willow so she wouldn't see the self adulation in his gaze or the grin meant for Angel alone. "That's right. I had to explain everything that's happened to her: how you and your Council have been trying to kill me even though they know I have a soul; how they risked the life of the slayer to accomplish it, and then, when that failed and she was turned, how they sent you to get to me through Willow. She knows everything, even if she can't remember it right now." Angelus let go of Angel's hair to take a step backwards, a single arm held to his lower chest in a mock bow.

Angel fumbled for words, his mind reeling from the twisted fantasy of lies Angelus had spun for Willow. He felt a deep rooted need to scream, as if then this surreal scene being played out would come to an end and reality would return. Desperate to set things right, he pleaded with Willow. "Will, he's lying. That's not the way things are at all."

Angelus answered for her. "why would she believe you over her soulmate, Adrian?" he took Willow's hand in his, turning it over to place a kiss on her palm.

"He's not your soulmate, Willow. Don't listen to him. He's twisting everything around to suit his own purposes, to get you to turn your back on me and go with him. Listen to you heart, Willow. I know it couldn't have forgotten what we shared, no matter what's happened."

Willow took a step closer to Angel. For a second, her eyes seemed on the verge of recognition, a tiny seed of familiarity that sprang up as she stared into his face. But it was gone almost as soon as it came, unable to plant roots in her memory. Her expression once again became a mask for her anger and hatred. "I am listening to my heart, and it's telling me one of the only things I remember. You lied to me. I don't know about what or when, but my heart knows you're a liar. I won't let you lie to me anymore, and I won't give you the chance to destroy me."

Having said what she needed to say, Willow walked away. With one last grin, Angelus followed, calling to Buffy over his shoulder. "Make sure you don't kill him, yet. I've still got some retribution I need to doll out."