Chapter Six

There was silence as she stepped outside, making sure not to look at anyone as she shut the door behind her. If anyone noticed the red eyes, no one mentioned it.

She crossed her arms, quiet for a minute, before finally looking up, her gaze steely.

"He's been cursed."

Buffy stifled an antagonist remark, biting her lip and nodding.

"He's still in there."

Buffy was still, her voice soft when she asked, "How do you know?"

Cordelia turned, her eyes flashing viciously when she answered, "How can you NOT know?"

The outburst shocked everyone into silence.

Closing her eyes, and sighing, she turned to Doyle and began speaking in hushed tones.

Buffy's eyes burned with fire, but she felt her self quiet when she saw Willow, who stepped into the doorway then, clutching a small child. Oz stepped in behind her.

Willow's eyes crossed the room and landed on Buffy. She stiffened, but her eyes were gentle and her smile soft.

"Hey Buffy."

Buffy felt her heart tremor, and she smiled, engulfing the hacker in a crushing hug. Only in her best friend's arms did she allow a small whimper to escape, brushed away just as quickly when she pulled back.

"Hey, Willow." She wiped quickly at her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Willow shrugged, motioning to Oz and her kids. "We were visiting Xander and Cordelia when we heard. We came with them."

Buffy swallowed. "You were in Los Angeles, and you didn't see me?"

She was about to respond when Cordelia came up to her quickly. "Willow, can I talk to you?" Willow noticed Buffy's hostile stare at the taller brunette and felt her throat go dry.

This was not going to be easy, for any of them. Once again, the feeling that had entered Willow the moment she had found out about Cordelia and Angel and continued ever since rose clear in her soul. She felt divided, her loyalty to Buffy and Xander stretched thin over her involvement and true understanding of the depth of Angel and Cordelia's feelings.

"Um, sure." She said quickly, smiling grimly to Buffy, allowing Cordelia to softly pull her aside.

"Did you see?" She asked immediately. Cordelia's eyes looked misted over, and she nodded as she crossed her arms.

"God, Willow.." Her voice threatened to crack and she stifled it immediately. "He's stuck between worlds." She began again, her voice stronger now. "I don't know how he's managing to hold on to his soul, but... I don't know how long he can hang on."

Willow saw the real anguish in Cordelia's face and laid a comforting hand on her arm. "We'll find out how to beat this."

"Damn right we will." Cordelia said quickly. She cast a glance to Buffy who was watching the two of them with an odd expression on her face. "She still doesn't know, does she?"

"Know about what?"

"You helping us, all those years ago."

"No, she doesn't." Willow's face looked pained, but her shoulders remained steady. "She's just as hurt as you, Cordelia, just...try and remember that."

"Yeah, I'll try and remember that while Angel dies." She snapped, and then winced before Willow could respond. "Sorry. Old habits die hard."

"Yeah, I know."

The pair fell silent, and Cordelia swallowed, turning from Willow when she noticed that the group was all staring at them.

"We don't have much time." She began quietly, suddenly aware that for some odd reason, the reigns of leadership had been handed to her. When Doyle looked at her, he had seen hope, and his fierce belief in her gave her strength. "First things first, do you know where we can find the druid jerk that did this to him."

"No." It was Buffy that spoke up, walking to the center of the room. "He disappeared. Not a sign of him."

Doyle nodded, coming up from behind. "That's right, princess. We've looked."

Cordelia nodded. "Okay." Running a hand through her hair she looked to the two men in the corner. "Xander, Oz. " She said crisply, "Stay here, with Angel, keep the chains on, I don't know how long he can resist, but don't go in there unless it's really necessary. Doyle."

"Yeah." The Irish half demon stepped forward, his eyes sparkling.

"Go back to the place where Angel was cursed, scope it out, try and find anything that will help us find a cure." Doyle nodded.

"After that I'll go and get the spell books, me and the boys here will start lookin' through them."

"Good idea. Buffy?" Buffy turned her eyes evenly on Cordelia, who eyed her right back. "You think you can work with me without trying to kill me?"

"You want me to answer that or should I just glare?"

"That's a yes." Willow said quickly, desperate to avoid the inevitable confrontation. Cordelia merely turned away, pulling on her coat.

"Good, then let's go. Willow, you too."

"Where are we going?" Willow asked, scrambling to put on her jacket.

Cordelia's eyes never left the door when she answered. "To see an old friend."

He was ready to die. The agony that coursed through his veins along with his blood was unbearable, and perhaps if it was the pain alone then, maybe he would be able to bear it. But it wasn't just the pain. He had fight for his humanity.

He felt as if he was stretched into two different directions, and with every passing minute, a knife was searing him apart.

It would be so easy to just let go, to give in to the temptation to let go of the pain, to succumb to the inevitable, to the loss of himself.

He had almost done it, for one minute he felt as if he would, he was so close to giving in, to letting go.

Then the door opened, and looking up, from his last vestige of control, he sensed her. In her arms, he had tasted her tears, breathed in her scent, felt her sob wracked body close to his.

And he felt himself again. Because she asked, the one thing he had thought he had lost forever, because she had returned to him, he had nodded. He was going to live, he was going to make sure of that for her. If only for her.

Even if he wanted to die, to let go, he would not allow it, even if it broke him.

His soul belonged to her, and he had every intention of keeping it that way.

You could have cut the tension in the car with a knife, and Willow felt the tightening of her own chest as she gazed at the faces of both women on either side of the car.

The silence was overwhelming, yet Willow made no motion to venture any conversation. Small talk was not an option. If she said anything, she knew the car would explode.

Blue eyes and hazel ones each threatened on the brink of flooding over, each had a sharp glint, as each woman was fighting to push aside her fear, her hate for the other, for the sole purpose of saving the man
they both loved.

This should involve her. It shouldn't have made her feel this way, she felt so torn.

Her loyalty had always been to Buffy, there had never been a question of that, Cordelia had only been at most a friend.

Until five years ago, when she had come to Los Angeles and encountered a different Cordelia, a different Angel, and the chance to either break her bonds with Cordelia forever, or to prove the friendship she had tried so often to repair.

The choice had been made, Willow had finally become friends with Cordelia Chase, and Angel and Cordelia had formed what then had seemed an unbreakable bond.

With that, everything had changed. Five years passed and Willow felt she had betrayed everything she had believed in. The secret she had harbored, one she had made every effort to keep Xander and Buffy from discovering what they would perceive as betrayal, and what she perceived as the one thing she could NOT have done and still be Willow.

Buffy could sense something had changed, and Willow could sense it in herself. From between these two woman, the confusion in Buffy's eyes and the stoic pain in Cordelia's, Willow knew that now, her loyalties had changed.

Buffy seemed a stranger, and Cordelia, more herself than she had ever been. Everything seemed so different, and so clear, clearer than it had ever been. Willow knew now who belonged with whom.

The blistering thought that pervaded her senses made her wonder blithely if it even matter anymore.

The cave was dark, and silent. With every step, the crunching of the gravel under his feet made Doyle's presence known to the few inhabitants, the bats and mice scurrying for cover.

He stopped in the middle, his eyes roving through the darkness as he gazed at the place that had started all of this.

He waited a minute, allowing his real self to resurface, the "pinhead face", was what Cordelia had called it. And he sniffed, searching for something to sense, to call his attention, to unravel the mystery. For a half demon, this was an easy task, for a human, almost impossible.

For years it had baffled him, Cordelia's suprising ability to be able to "sense" Angel. In his many years he had never seen anything quite like it, but now, it had given him hope. Whatever bound her to her Angel, whatever brought her back, could be used to save him. Maybe it could save them all. It had to save them all.

He sniffed again, knowing he was racing against a clock, caught a whiff of Angel's blood. Moving to the area, he stared at the dust that had remained undisturbed, the place where Angel had fallen. The dust lay there, he caught the dried specks of blood, could see the pain etched like a sketch in the dirt.

Closing his eyes, he smelled it carefully, it was vaguely familiar, a scent that caught his nose, alien to Angel, it had to belong to the druid, the one who had done what ever it was to Angel.

It was old, faint, but it was still there, he could smell it. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent, capturing it in his memory, before rising to his feet and walking out.

It was a scent he could recognize. All he had to do was place it.