Chapter 5

CLEVELAND

Rupert could hear Buffy grumbling to Dawn as they packed their bags yet again. He thought she would have been happy to leave the Hellmouth because they’d been so utterly busy since they arrived, but he could understand how tired she was of traveling and living out of a suitcase.

Then there was the bombshell he’d dropped on their core Slayer group prior to announcing their departure. Meeting with just Buffy, Dawn, Faith, and Robin, he’d told them that Angel had found evidence that an evil demon was looking for Buffy. He wanted word to get out that he and the Summers girls were bound for Japan, but they would travel elsewhere, and that location would only be known to him until they arrived at the airport.

As they rode silently in the cab to the airport, Giles could feel the multitude of sins he was perpetrating against Buffy weighing on his soul. After they entered the terminal he finally told them they’d be headed to England, where they would start researching ways to end this current threat to Buffy’s life. It was yet another half-truth and one more chink in his conscience, but it wasn’t that far off the mark.

Angel had said the plane carrying Spike was headed to LA, which meant he was going to the wrong Hellmouth. If he ever figured out they’d been in Cleveland, he’d have to get there, then the grapevine would reveal that Buffy had gone to Japan. There seemed to be plenty of time for he and Angel to get to the bottom of this Spike problem, and then he could finally tell Buffy the truth.

^^^^^^^^

LOS ANGELES

If the flight crew was surprised to see a different looking man in LA than the one that had left with them in Rome, they kept quiet. There were only 3 of them, and they’d stayed in the cockpit the entire time, at Spike’s request. The steward, of course, came out to prepare the plane for landing and again when they were on the ground.

The minute he opened the outside door Spike flew down the stairs and across the tarmac. He just knew there was someone waiting to tail him and he wasn’t going to make it easy. They had landed at a private airfield near LAX so he had at least some idea where he was. The closer he got to the main airport the easier it would be to get lost in the crowd.

He got the chance to hail a cab and went downtown to the hated law office. But what he needed most was another set of wheels and he wouldn’t feel guilty about boosting another car from Angel’s collection.

Again, taking the Viper crossed his mind, but it was just too obvious. Sneaking past the guard was easy and he knew where the security cameras were, so he stayed out of sight. He saw the Angel-mobile and thought briefly about taking it, but it wouldn’t get the value some of the newer cars could. He needed something that would get him to the Sunnydale crater on a tank of gas, and protect him from the rays of the daily sun. Maybe even be big enough to sleep in.

Something like…that Land Rover over there. Creeping over to the wall where the elevator was, he saw the key cupboard, picked the lock, and grabbed the keys to the SUV he’d chosen.

He went back to the guard shack, knocked the poor fellow out, raised the arm on the crossing bar and wedged it open with the unconscious guard’s shoe, and drove smoothly out of the garage, gunning it as soon as he was around the block. Noting the full gas tank, he happily found a radio station he liked, paid a visit to his favorite fence to unload the things he’d taken from the jet, and headed for the Hellmouth he thought he’d never see again.

^^^^^^^^

The parking garage attendant had continued to express his apologies at not preventing Spike from stealing the Land Rover. He knew that once upon a time his lapse would have meant enduring endless suffering and torture, maybe even death, but Angel appeared to be understanding.

In fact, the CEO of Wolfram & Hart was not worried at all, for he knew Spike was on his way to an unpopulated crater in the middle of nowhere. It was too risky to send an operative there; due to the vast nothingness Spike would spot him in an instant. However, he did have someone stationed at the diner along the highway that led to the former town. It was the only route from LA to Sunnydale and a description of the vehicle along with Spike’s new look had been passed out to the special ops team.

Angel was making a game out of guessing what Spike would do next. Once his grandchilde realized that no one was at the site of the former Hellmouth, where would he go next? He knew Spike would not give up, and had even told the Scoobies that once Spike made up his mind, nothing would stop him.

He had a sudden pain in his chest and felt a brief moment of guilt as he tried to remember why he was bound and determined to keep Spike and Buffy apart. He and the blonde had always enjoyed tormenting each other, but when was enough, enough? He thought about something he once read about setting free the one you love. Buffy would come back to him, or else she’d never really been his to begin with. And that’s what he was most afraid of; never having her again.

He placated his soul by telling himself that if Buffy and Spike ended up together after all of this, then it was because Spike had earned it, chasing her to the ends of the earth and back. He thought about making a move while Spike was occupied, but the timing still wasn’t right, and he knew Buffy wouldn’t accept him right now. Angel straightened his desk and took his private elevator to the penthouse. Heading straight for his liquor cupboard, he poured himself a generous amount of Irish whiskey and tried to numb the accusing voices in his head, shutting them up long enough to get some rest.

SUNNYDALE CRATER

He wasn’t prepared for the way his chest tightened when he arrived at the sight of his former home. Not only was he anxious to see Buffy, but so much had happened to him here…the chip, the soul; it seemed like everything he was now, he owed to his time in Sunnydale and his love for her.

Daybreak was near, but he was prepared. Two thermoses of warmed blood waited alongside a cooler stocked with extra packets in the passenger seat. Cold blood was vile, but would do in a pinch, and he had no idea what he’d be facing out here. He had blankets for protection in case he needed to dash outside of the vehicle or sleep the day away inside, and there were snacks to be enjoyed if the blood wasn’t enough.

He put the Land Rover in 4-wheel drive and left the road to follow the crater. He couldn’t get out to explore with the impending arrival of the sun, but he could at least see where the slayers had set up shop. When he’d driven for 2 hours and saw nothing he began to worry. He figured he was about halfway around and hadn’t seen so much as a tumbleweed or jackrabbit.

‘Keep it moving,’ he told himself, so he continued on another 2 hours or so until he reached the road again.

There’d been no cars, tents, buildings, or actual people anywhere near. The tightness in his chest increased as he wondered what could have happened. Had something come and swallowed them all? He knew of no demon that would eat cars or tents along with people, though.

Anger made its way through his body and he pounded his fists on the dashboard, cursing his life. When he calmed down and allowed himself to think clearly for a moment, he wondered if maybe they were only here at night, since that’s when the demons would come out. He drove off the road once again near a rock outcropping and parked in the shadow.

Drinking one thermos of blood, he figured he’d take a nap and leave to explore the crater after sunset; see if the girls showed up then.

^^^^^^^^

He woke just before sunset and drank the last of the warm blood from the thermos. As he licked a few drops from his lips the sun sank behind the hills and he was free to move about safely.

He moved slowly to the edge of the crater, not wanting to disturb the delicate land. He brought his demon forward to help see in the darkness, but after he extended the rest of his senses, he had only one thought. The place was devoid of any life whatsoever, supernatural or natural. He could smell the decay from the crater’s floor, but it was old, from the few months ago when everything had collapsed. And with his sharp night vision, he could see that nothing was there, or had been there recently.

Listening carefully, he heard no breathing, no rushing and pumping of blood, even of a demonic variety. There were few birds and animals as well. Seems even they knew well enough to stay away.

He returned to the car and slumped against the front tire. He’d been duped again and felt the clutching fingers of despair closing in on his soul. He supposed he should not be surprised by Ilona’s treachery, considering she was in league with the Immortal, but he still felt the sting of trusting the wrong person yet again.

He spent a good portion of the night leaning against the wheel and NOT brooding. Never brooding. Just…pondering. First of all, he wondered why he hadn’t packed any alcohol. Probably because he was foolish enough to believe Buffy would actually be here, although he might have needed booze to get through that reunion, but he’d been in too much of a hurry to get any. He let his mind wander and weirdly enough, it brought him to Prague and the mob which cursed Drusilla. He’d been nearly out of his mind with worry over her health and had cut a swath through the minions as he charged them with finding a cure for her.

Then he felt it. A pinprick of a memory trying to unbury itself from his jumbled thoughts. It had to do with the Hellmouth. Hellmouth…what had he heard about it that had brought him here? He knew there was a Slayer there, which was part of the attraction, but he’d been led to believe that the mystical forces and dark energies of the place would make an ideal location for curing his Sire.

Wait a minute…he was remembering now…A mage he’d consulted in Prague told him there were Hellmouths all over the world, some active, others not, for a variety of reasons, like the one he was sitting next to. God, if this were true, then Buffy could be anywhere! He smacked his palm against his forehead, trying to remember any detail that could lead him to the right place; his conversation with The Immortal and Ilona, other things the mage told him…

What had the old magician said about the states? The California Hellmouth had an inordinate amount of activity and the Slayer was here, so it was their first choice. But another one existed in…where the hell was it? He screamed in frustration as he tried to remember the location. Someplace unremarkable, or he would have thought of it already. There were sports teams, he recalled, and not much else. A team with an idiotic name…a color, he thought…brown…the Browns.

Oh bloody hell. Fucking Cleveland. He’d bet his right fang that she was in Cleveland.

TBC