Once they had managed to convince Angel to let go of Willow and Faith had
helped Spike get settled back into his wheelchair, the odd group set out,
headed for Angel’s home. Faith pushed Spike’s wheelchair because Spike’s
arms were currently holding Willow as tightly as possible as the redehead,
no longer in tears, sat in his lap. The slender young woman had climbed in
the blonde vampire’s lap almost as soon as Faith had gotten him settled, and
she showed no signs of wanting to get up anytime soon. Angel, on the other
hand, was still a bit dazed by the fact that Willow had finally spoken after
four excruciatingly long months, and the brunette Slayer was having a bit of
trouble keeping the vampire focused on the task at hand. If it wasn’t for
the fact that she needed him to direct her to his house, she wouldn’t have
bothered.

“Nice digs,” Faith told the souled vampire as they came upon the two-story
house. It looked perfect for a suburban family. Not exactly the kind of
place one expected to find two vampires living with a nineteen year old
girl. It was the kind of place Faith had always wished she lived in.

“It’s a place to live,” Angel replied absently, his eyes still focused on
Willow as the redhead finally got up from Spike’s lap and wandered into the
house.

“She’s not going to disappear, you know,” Faith told him as she released her
grip on Spike's chair, watching as the vampire wheeled himself in the
direction Willow had gone.

“She did today. She just ran out the door... and she disappeared.”

“That she did,” the brunette conceded as she entered the house in front of
Angel. She glanced over her shoulder at the vampire as she entered the
family room. “So... you going to tell me about it? Spike promised, but
apparently he’s busy.”

“After what happened... I guess I owe it to you.”

“I tried to kill you how many times? Face it, you don’t owe me a damn
thing.”

“You took care of Willow today.”

“I was hardly even there.”

“You were willing to protect her from me,” Angel reminded her, thinking back
to when she had the stake poised over his unbeating heart. “You were
prepared to kill me in order to protect her.”

“Oh, yeah. About that... I thought you were Angelus, you know? And, well,
I’d just seen all those graves and Willow said Angelus did it, so I
thought... I didn’t know she’d gone loopy, so I believed her.”

“She’s not loopy, Faith. And she told you the truth. I did it. I killed
them all. Spike’s the only reason that I didn’t kill Willow while I was at
it.” He shook his head as he ran his hand through his hair.

“But... what? How?”

“Okay. Long story short. I was drugged. Don’t know what it was. Some
type of chemically induced bliss. It was temporary, but-”

“Angelus came out to play anyway,” Faith finished for him before slanting a
look at the vampire. He was staring at the carpet. “So basically what
you’re saying is, we put you on barbiturates, and you’ll be good for
eternity.”

“Faith...”

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think I could ever find happiness after what I’ve done, anyway.”

“God, you’re just as brooding as ever,” the Slayer said with a snort.
“Look, now that I know you’re not evil, I’ll go my way, you go yours. If
we’re lucky, we can avoid each other.”

“Wait!” Angel cried, grabbing the brunette’s arm. “Where are you staying?”

“Wherever it suits me.”

“That’s not an answer, Faith. It’s already dark outside. Do you have any
clue where you’re sleeping tonight?”

“I can’t take care of myself,” the girl said petulantly as she pulled her
arm away.

“I don’t doubt that. You are a Slayer after all. Stay here tonight.”

“What? Hello? Me, evil. Tried to kill you? Ringing any bells for you?”

“You really cling to that, don’t you? Faith, the bad girl. The rebel.”

“It’s what I am.”

“Maybe. You’re also the girl was protecting Willow.” With a sigh, he
decided to try another tactic. “Earlier you said I didn’t owe you anything.
You did, after all, try to kill me. More than once, if I remember
correctly. Plus, you tried to steal my soul. So I figure you owe me. What
if that’s what I want?”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what I want from you. I want you to stay here. That way, I won’t
have to worry about you. No fears that I’ll hear about your body being
dragged out of the water on the news tomorrow. I’d hate to have to tell
Willow that her protector got herself killed. Today... today was the first
time she’s said anything since it happened. And she spoke to you. That’s
got to mean something. I tell her you’re dead, she might stop talking
again. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

“You’re too damn good at this guilt thing,” Faith told him with a sigh.

“Years of practice.”

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Spike found Willow in the den, holding the picture Angel had drawn.

“No, love, you don’t need to be looking at that,” he told her, trying to
pull the macabre rendering from her grasp. She easily evaded him, still
staring at the drawing, her eyes focused on the faces of her friends. Faces
that were etched with the agony of violent death.

“Why, Spike?” Willow whispered, her voice still a bit hoarse from months of
disuse. She raised her gaze to meet the burning blue eyes of the vampire
before her. “Why did he draw this?”

“Another form of torture, pet,” Spike said after a moment, sighing in
defeat. He knew she wouldn’t leave the subject alone until she was
satisfied. Even without her speech she had been persistent. And now...
well, now he was so happy that she was talking again, he figured he would
end up answering any question she had, no matter how painful. “Peaches was
always good at self-flagellation.”

“This isn’t self-flagellation. This... I don’t know what this is. What’s
wrong with him, Spike?”

“I don’t know,” the vampire admitted quietly as he wheeled over to her.
This time, she released the drawing when he reached for it. “He’s done it
before... drawn things like this. And he broods.”

“He’s always brooded. Ever since I met him.”

“This is different. It’s like he’s not... aware. It’s like he’s not even
there. He has no idea what’s going on around him.”

“For how long?”

“A few hours at most.”

“Not that how long. I mean... days, weeks, when did it start?”

“The whole time. Or very nearly so. I’d say at least the last three
months, off and on. He started thinking you’d never speak-”

“So it’s my fault?”

“No! Bloody hell, I didn’t mean that. Peaches was just-”

“Guilty over what Angelus had done. And my muteness was a reminder of that,
and so is your wheelchair. Another way to torture himself, I guess. Keep
us both around, make himself look at what the demon did.”

“That’s not why he wants you here.”

“I know. I know he cares about me and wants to protect me. If Angelus
hadn’t been the one to hurt me, Angel would have taken care of me anyways.
But...he has those memories, Spike, those memories of what Angelus did.”

“And just what do you want to do about it, pet?”

“I want to help him. I want to be there for him, like he was for me.”

“Then I guess that’s what we do.”