“Willow, no!”

At the sound of Angel’s yell, Spike wheeled himself into the sitting room,
taking the turn so quickly he almost overturned his chair.

“What happened?” the younger vampire hissed at his sire, his blue eyes
burning in anger as he took in the empty room. “What did you do to her?
Show her your bloody artwork?” he tossed out as his eyes came to rest on the
picture Angel had drawn of a ravaged and clearly dead Scooby Gang.

“I... I don’t know what happened,” Angel managed, somehow sounding
breathless, even though that was impossible. He didn’t need to breathe
anymore than Spike did. “It’s like I wasn’t here. I didn’t know what I was
doing.”

“Again,” Spike stated with a nod. More and more, he was beginning to
question his sire’s sanity. He did understand why Angel seemed to be
spiraling into oblivion, though. One drunken evening, he had gotten the
story of how it came to be that Angelus had been freed for the night from
the brooding vampire, and Spike had in turn hired someone to make sure that
the actress who had been the catalyst in all of this had suffered a rather
painful death shortly thereafter. It hadn’t been for Angel’s sake, mind
you. It had been for revenge, plain and simple. And Willow. One mustn’t
forget Willow. Speaking of... “Where is she?” Spike asked angrily.

“She... she startled me, and when I turned to her...” Angel trailed off, and
Spike nodded impatiently, urging him to continue. “She ran,” he said
softly, gesturing to the front door.

“Oh, bloody hell,” the blonde vampire growled as he wheeled himself as near
to the door as possible, cringing as he got just a little too close.
Growling, he whirled around once more to face Angel. “And now she’s out
there, and we’re stuck in here for the rest of the day.”

“As soon as it’s dark..”

“Oh, sod off! We wouldn’t be stuck in this damn house all day if one of us
had the Gem of Amarra. Oh, wait, we did have it, didn’t we? Or you did,
anyway. But you just had to destroy it. Bloody wanker. Always looking for
new ways to suffer, new ways to do penance. Well guess what? You’ve found
another. And that little girl’s out there, scared out of her mind, and I
can’t get to her because of it. Because you needed to suffer so much that
you destroyed the bloody Gem. Because of you, we have to wait until the
damn sun goes down before we go out looking for her, and we just have to
hope that nothing happens to her before we get to her.”

“Spike, I...”

“Damn you for this! If she didn’t need you so bloody much, I’d stake you.”

“If she didn’t need me so much, I’d stake myself,” the dark-haired vampire
said quietly but forcefully. Sighing, he sat down and covered his face
wearily. “I’m losing it, Spike. A little more each day.”

“Your sanity or your soul?”

“Does it really matter? If I lose my sanity, I doubt I’ll care all that
much about my soul.”

Spike settled back in his chair and took a long, measuring look at sire as
he tried to calm himself down. After a moment, he nodded. “You’re afraid
you’ll hurt her.”

“I keep having these blank spots... these times that I can’t remember. I
don’t know what I do during those times.”

“Well, mostly you brood. I’ve seen you have your little spells. They’re
rather entertaining. Well, as long as Red doesn’t see them.”

“What?”

“Were you expecting me to be surprised? Or were you just expecting to be
doing something a little more sinister than drawing and brooding during your
episodes? Face it, you wanker, crazy or not, that bloody soul is what’s in
charge of you. That may not have been the first nasty picture you’ve drawn,
but you’ve never done anything worse than that.”

Angel nodded slowly, too relieved to learn that he hadn’t harmed anybody to
care that his childe had seen him like that. Still, there was always the
chance that one day he would truly go off the deep end, his soul be damned.
Sighing once more, he looked to the window, taking in the waning light.
Soon, they would be able to go out in search of Willow. Nodding his head in
some unknown agreement with himself, he turned to face his childe, his dark
eyes even more serious and tormented than usual. “I want you to promise me
something.”

“And why would I do that?”

Angel took an unnecessary deep breath. “Damn it, Spike. Just... if I ever
do lose it... if I ever try to harm Willow... I want you to kill me.”

Spike smiled, though it was a hollow imitation of his usual smirk. “With
pleasure.”

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

Willow sat huddled by Xander’s headstone, gently tracing the engraving of
his name. Alexander LaVelle Harris. It didn’t seem right, that long, drawn
out name etched into the marble that marked where his body was laid to rest.
That hadn’t been who he really was. He had been Xander. That name fit
him so much better. It was the name of someone who could make you laugh
when everything looked so wrong and bad. It was the name of a best friend.

Her best friend.

Willow took a gasping breath to cover the sob that threatened to escape as
she covered her face with her hands. She had cried so much since it had
happened... there were times when she had been afraid she would never stop.
She didn’t want to start again. A hand touched her shoulder, and the tiny
redhead jumped, whirling around as best she could from her kneeling position
to face the intruder. Her eyes widened when she saw who it was.

Faith.

“What happened here?” the brunette Slayer asked as she took in the row of
tombstones. Alexander LaVelle Harris. Buffy Anne Summers. Anya. Cordelia
Chase. Rupert Giles. So many familiar names, but no explanation as to why.
There had been no love lost between the brunette and Buffy’s friends, but
that didn’t mean she had wanted them to die. She looked at the date on the
headstones. And all at once, too. Faith shivered as a chill ran down her
spine. What had happened? She knelt next to Willow, reaching for the girl
and cursing when she backed away.

“Damn it, Will, I’m not going to hurt you.” She glanced again at the
headstones. “Looks to me like you’ve been hurt enough.”

Willow gazed steadily at Faith, then finally nodded, as if accepting the
Slayer’s statement as truth.

“Who did this? Who killed them?” Faith asked as she took Willow’s chin in
her hand and made the girl look at her. Willow trembled at the concern in
the other girl’s eyes, and then, for the first time in four months, she
spoke.

“Angelus.”