Disclaimer: All the characters are Joss Whedon's, not mine

A little something for my faithful readers before I take off on yet another business trip!


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Chapter 6
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Spike used a couple of bungee cords to attach his groceries to the back of the bike. He drove home from the butcher’s in a somewhat circuitous route, stopping at the entrance to each of the town’s cemeteries and listening for any activity. Twice he got off his bike and took out a gathering of vampires in some large tomb or another, and once he needed to free a coed from the clutches of some desperate fledge. Figuring that he had knocked down the vampire population enough for the night, he hurried home, not wanting to leave Buffy alone any longer.
 
He parked the bike and grabbed the bag of blood and the bag of human food off the back, shoving the door open with his shoulder. “Buffy? Just me, love,” he called. His greeting was answered with utter silence. Dropping the bags he flew downstairs to find the bed empty. “Buffy?” he called again. He looked all around the room, just to see if she was hiding or something. Then he recognized a familiar scent. Fucking Scoobies. They were here. But did they take her with them, or did they just frighten the hell out the poor girl so she ran away? He sped back up the stairs and out his front door, pausing to see if he could catch Buffy’s scent. It was very faint, and mixed with the scents of Xander and the others. He followed it to a side street, but then the scent vanished. Must have put her in a car, then, he guessed. So she’s at home most likely. He made his way with rapid strides back to his bike and kicked it to life with more force than necessary. If they’ve hurt her or worried her I’ll fucking strangle them, chip or no chip, he vowed as he roared off toward Revello Drive.
 
*************
 
Cordelia was sorting through some of the mounds of paperwork that tended to collect on Angel’s desk when the phone rang. Sighing at the lateness of the hour and praying it wasn’t some big, messy demon, she reached for the handset. “Angel Investigations, we help the helpless!” she chirped into the phone.
 
“Cordelia? It’s Willow Rosenberg,” came the voice on the other end. “Is Angel there?”
 
“Willow?” Cordelia exclaimed. She hadn’t heard anything from Sunnydale since Willow had shown up to tell them about Buffy’s death. Now Angel was returning to normal, helping Fred back into the world, and their work was starting to pick up again. Cordelia was a little apprehensive about getting involved with the Sunnydale bunch again. “We, um, haven’t heard from you in a while. How are things in Sunnydale?”
 
“We’ve got some news for Angel,” Willow explained. “We did a resurrection spell and, well, Buffy’s alive again.”
 
“You’re serious?” Cordelia cried. “She’s… just hang on, let me get Angel!” Cordelia put down the phone and hurried out to the courtyard where Angel and Fred were talking. “Angel! It’s Willow! Buffy’s alive!” Angel’s jaw dropped in astonishment for a moment before he leaped to his feet and dashed inside.
 
He grabbed the phone from Cordelia and said, “Willow? What’s going on?” He fought hard to keep his hands from shaking. Alive? Could it really be possible?
 
“H… hello Angel,” Willow said, suddenly a little nervous. On the one hand, she really wanted to help Buffy get back to normal. On the other hand, she wasn’t thrilled about having Angel back in Sunnydale, getting in the way.
 
“What happened? Cordelia said that she… Buffy’s alive?” Angel said, hardly daring to hope.
 
“She’s alive,” Willow said. “We did a resurrection spell and brought her back. But Angel she’s… she’s not herself.”
 
“What do you mean?” he asked sharply.
 
“She doesn’t seem to know what’s going on,” Willow explained. “She barely talks, she seems terrified of us, she spends a lot of time curled up in a ball crying. We can’t seem to reach her, and we were hoping you’d help.”
 
“Are you sure it’s Buffy you brought back?” he wondered.
 
“Spike swears it’s her, and nothing else seems to suggest anything demonic or anything,” said Willow.
 
“Spike?” Angel snapped. “What the hell is he doing with her?”
 
“She showed up in his crypt after she was, um, reanimated,” Willow said, not wanting to go into the details about Buffy digging herself out of her grave right then. “She was all feral and wild, and somehow ended up hiding in Spike’s crypt. He called us and we brought her home.”
 
“And what did Spike say about all this?”
 
Evading Angel’s question she replied, “She seemed to be clinging to Spike a lot. We’re not sure why, but we figured it would be better if she was in her own surroundings. We had to knock her out with magic to get her home, but since she’s been there the only thing she’s done is ask for you.”
 
Angel’s eyebrows shot up. “Me? She was asking for me?” After all she’s been through, I’m what she remembers? How is that possible?
 
“She freaked out when she came to, and tried to protect Dawn from the rest of us. Then she ended up on the ground, crying and calling your name over and over,” Willow said. “We were hoping you could come. Maybe you can reach her since you’ve, um…”
 
“Spent time in hell?” Angel finished.
 
“Yeah, that,” Willow said. “So will you come?”
 
“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Angel promised. He hung up and sat down heavily. He rubbed his face as tears glittered in the corners of his eyes. She’s back, and she’s calling for me. After months of adjusting to living without her, it was almost more than he could bear. He gathered himself and rose to make arrangements.
 
In the Summers’ kitchen, Willow hung up the phone. “Well, he’s on his way,” she said to the others.
 
“I just peeked in on her,” Tara said. “She seems to be letting Dawn be near her, but not much else.”
 
“Do you think Spike’s going to show up here?” Anya wondered. “I mean, he seemed to be taking care of her pretty intensely. He’s going to want to know what’s going on.”
 
“And he and Angel aren’t exactly on speaking terms,” Xander observed.
 
Willow thought for a moment. “I think I’ll do a disinvite spell for Spike, just for the time being. I don’t think the two of them getting into a big knock-down battle is going to help Buffy’s mental state.”
 
Tara frowned. “Is it really necessary to disinvite him? He’s not going to hurt her.”
 
“Personally, as much as I hate to admit it, I’ll trust the vampire with the soul first,” Xander said. He had never been a huge fan of Angel, but Spike’s cockiness had long since gotten on his nerves.
 
Turning to Tara, Willow said, “It’s as much for Spike’s own protection as anything else. Both of them have a ‘fangs first, questions later’ policy when it comes to each other.”
 
Still frowning, Tara acquiesced. “I really hope you know what you’re doing,” she said before turning to go back upstairs.
 
Willow wrinkled her brows a bit at Tara’s obvious lack of enthusiasm for her ideas. What’s wrong with her? Can’t she see I just want to make everything better? This would all go so much smoother if they’d just let me use my talents without all these questions and restraints. Willow turned her back on Tara’s retreating figure and made her way to the front door. She worked the disinvite spell, tuning it to keep out Spike, and not Angel. When she had finished, she joined Xander and Anya at the kitchen island.
 
“Do you think Buffy might be hungry or anything?” Anya asked. “I would think she’d be up for some real food after whatever you get in hell.”
 
“Doubt that they’re serving up five course dinners in Hades, Ahn,” Xander said.
 
“Some hell dimensions have pretty good food,” Anya protested. “Well, if you’re a demon that is. If you’re a human you’re more likely to be dinner than get dinner.”
 
“Anyhow, that’s a good idea Anya,” Willow said. She got up and bustled about making a turkey sandwich and put it on a tray with a tall glass of water. “I’ll see if this will tempt her.” Willow left, balancing the tray as she went up to Buffy’s room.
 
Xander and Anya chatted quietly for a few minutes, but their conversation was interrupted by a frantic pounding at the back door. Xander got up and opened the door to find Spike there, looking panicked. “Is she here?” he asked.
 
“She’s upstairs in her room with Dawn,” Xander said. “Where she belongs.”
 
“Is she okay? Let me see her!” Spike cried. He tried to push his way into the house but bounced painfully off the invisible barrier instead. “You disinvited me?” he roared in disbelief. “What the fuck?”
 
“We were afraid you’d get in a fight with Angel,” Anya piped up.
 
“What the hell does the great poof have to do with it?” Spike growled.
 
“Buffy’s been calling for him,” Xander replied with more than a trace of smugness. “She’s been calling his name over and over since she got here. Angel is who she wants, not you.”
 
Spike’s mouth wobbled, the words stuck in his throat. Finally he turned to Anya and said, “Is it true? She’s asking for Angel?” The former demon was many things, but a liar was not one of them.
 
“It’s true,” Anya said. “She tried to protect Dawn from us, and when we made her let go of Dawn’s arm, she started crying for Angel.”
 
The look of hurt on Spike’s face gave even Xander a mild twinge of conscience. He slowly shook his head, trying to find words, but in the end he spun on his heel and stalked off into the night like a shadow.
 
Angel. Always bloody Angel. I fucking bleed for the girl, fought for her every night since she died, protected her sister, and the first name she remembers is Angel. He stomped into the first cemetery he came to and started hunting for things to kill. An hour later, bruised and covered with dust and demon blood, he stormed into a liquor store, bought three bottles of Jack Daniels from the nervous clerk, and stomped home. I can’t believe they fucking disinvited me. All summer I kept their sorry asses alive, and this is the thanks I get? He was well into the second bottle before the tears of hurt and rage and rejection started to flow.
 
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Angel sped toward Sunnydale in silence. He had left less than an hour after hanging up the phone, explaining quickly to the others what the situation was, and asking Wesley to do some research on the side effects of resurrection spells. His mind raced as he drove. She wants me. It’s me she’s asking for. Although their relationship had faded, he still felt a connection to her that would probably never go away. He thought about Spike caring for her with a combination of irritation and smug triumph. As if he could ever reach her like I could. He knew that his annoying former companion had been helping Buffy for a while. Most likely a desperate bid to get into her pants, he thought. He couldn’t conceive of Spike working on the side of the White Hats without an ulterior motive. Although he had no idea of why Spike hung around after Buffy’s death, he was certain it was for some selfish reason.
 
The exit for Sunnydale loomed ahead and he took it, barely slowing down. His desire to see her again had caused him to risk speeding tickets to get there the same night. Burying Buffy had been the most painful thing in his entire existence. The idea of seeing her alive again was indescribably wonderful. Still, Willow’s reports sounded somewhat discouraging. He remembered his own return from hell. The painful confusion and the uncontrollable ferocity of his demon were etched on his memory. But he also remembered that moment when he recognized Buffy. That moment of perfect clarity, when he realized that he knew this girl, and it meant he was safe, and he was home, and no one was going to torment him like that ever again. She had been like an oasis in the desert. He hoped that he could be that touchstone for her and guide her back to the world. I owe her that.
 
He turned at last into Revello Drive and was soon parked in front of the familiar door. He sat there a moment, collecting himself, then with an unneeded deep breath he stepped out of the car and strode up to the door. The lights were on, despite the late hour, and Willow soon responded to his knock.
 
“Angel, hey, um… come in,” Willow said, stepping aside to let him in.
 
“Hi,” he said. Xander and Anya, who had been dozing on the couch, now woke up and stood to greet the vampire as well. “How’s Buffy doing?”
 
“Last we checked she was just sitting there,” Willow said. It had been a long and trying evening. Willow had tried to bring Buffy some food, but Buffy had curled into an even tighter ball and refused to even look at Willow, shaking like a leaf the whole time. Dawn had sat with her, trying to coax her to eat, or to at least curl up on the bed, but eventually she had to give up. Dawn had fallen asleep, weeping in Tara’s arms at the unfairness of it all. They had all tried, individually and in groups, to engage the Slayer, but her tears had given way to a stony-faced silence that could not be penetrated. “She was crying for ages, but now she seems almost… catatonic or something. We really hope you can help.”
 
I hope so too, Angel thought, deeply concerned about what he was hearing. “Take me to her,” he said, and Willow led the way to Buffy’s room.
 
“Buffy?” Willow called as she opened the door. “Angel’s here.”
 
Buffy sat up suddenly. “Angel?” she whispered.
 
Willow stepped back and let Angel enter the room, remaining outside so as not to freak Buffy out. Angel walked in slowly. “Hello, Buffy.”
 
Buffy’s expression of hope fell to be replaced by confusion. She got to her feet quickly so she could get away from this stranger who was most definitely not her angel. A low moan escaped from her throat. Why does she keep tormenting me? She pulled me out of the good place, and then she took me away from the angel, and now she’s mocking me, telling me that the angel is here. What did I do to her? Why? She kept backing up, trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and the newcomer.
 
Angel held his hands in front of him, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible. “Hey, it’s just me. Look.” He showed her his hands. “No weapons… no friends…”
 
Buffy’s eyes widened as his unfortunate choice of words triggered a memory of him standing over her, sword pointed at her throat. No weapons… no friends… no hope. That’s what he said. He wanted to kill me. He wanted to drag me down into hell. Her breathing sped up as she tensed and narrowed her eyes at him.
 
Angel heard her heart rate speed up and stopped, wondering what had her so spooked. “Buffy?” he said. “Do you…?”
 
Angel got no further. With an inarticulate roar Buffy launched herself at Angel, sending him reeling backward with a kick to the sternum. She followed it up with a flurry of blows to his face. Angel tried to defend himself without hurting her, but her attack was relentless. Willow looked on in utter shock, unable to process what was happening. Finally Xander cried, “Willow! Do something!” and Willow shook herself and muttered the incantation to freeze Buffy in her tracks.
 
Buffy stopped in mid punch, looking like someone playing at statues. Angel lost no time getting away from her, blood trickling from the side of his mouth and one eye beginning to swell. “Sleep,” Willow said, and Buffy once more crumpled to the ground unconscious. Xander went in and scooped her up, laying her on the bed and covering her up.
 
“What happened?” Dawn came stumbling out of her room, having been woken from a sound sleep by the noise. “Angel? When did you get here?” Her eyes grew round at the sight of his battered face.
 
“Someone want to tell me what the hell that was all about?” Angel exploded. “You said she was calling for me!”
 
“She was,” Dawn explained. “Over and over, she kept saying ‘Angel’”
 
“Then why did she just try to kill me?” the vampire snarled.
 
“I don’t know,” Willow said hopelessly. “But we all heard it. She kept crying and saying ‘Angel’. Maybe she just doesn’t recognize you or something.”
 
“She’s insane,” Angel said, shaking his head. “She’s completely gone.” He turned to stagger down the stairs to collapse onto the living room sofa, wincing as he realized that she might have cracked a rib or two.
 
“No shit, Sherlock,” Xander said in exasperation as they all followed him into the living room. “We told you that. We were hoping that since you’ve been to hell before you might have some idea of how to help her!”
 
“It was different for me, I guess,” Angel muttered. “I… maybe because of my demon? I don’t know. When I came back I was confused. I had no idea what was going on, just like her. But once I realized who she was I sort of… snapped out of it I guess.” It was apparent from their long faces that the Scoobies had expected just that.
 
“So what do we do now?” Anya asked. “Do we find a mental hospital with really strong doors or what?”
 
“Anya!” Xander and Willow cried together. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that!” Willow continued. “She’s our friend! She sacrificed herself to save all of us!”
 
“But if she’s going to be attacking us all the time, then maybe we’d all be safer if she was locked up somewhere until she gets her memories back,” Anya said in a practical tone.
 
Dawn lost it at that point. “I just want her back!” she cried hysterically. “It’s not fair! She’s got to come back! She’s just got to!” She sank down into a chair and covered her face with her hands.
 
“Shh, Dawnie,” Tara said, once more taking on the mothering role. Addressing the others she said, “We need to just slow down. This may just take time.”
 
“I could make her forget,” Willow said slowly. “I could do a spell that makes her forget all about hell.”
 
“But what if that leaves her with nothing?” Angel said. “She may forget about hell, sure, but that doesn’t mean she’ll remember who she is or where she is.”
 
“I suppose we could try it and see what happens,” Xander offered.
 
“No!” yelled Dawn, standing up and stamping her foot. “She’s not a… a guinea pig to experiment on! You can’t just try this and that on her without knowing what you’re doing! You could kill her again and then…” Dawn couldn’t continue. She ran out of the room and up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door.
 
“She’s right,” Tara said firmly. “We can’t do any more spells on her until we know exactly what happened to her and what effects the past spells had on her. We need to do a lot more research before we do anything else.”
 
“I’ve got one of my guys looking up the effects of resurrection spells,” Angel said, wincing again as he touched his bruised head. “But I agree that we should do a little more background work before we try anything else. We don’t want to make it worse.” Angel stood up. “It’s getting close to sunrise. I’m going to go find a hotel room and ice my face. I’ll call later for an update.”
 
Willow followed him to the door. “I’m sorry, Angel. I really don’t know why she attacked you.”
 
“Not your fault, Willow,” Angel said. “Let’s just hope that she’ll remember soon. I’ll see you later.” He got into his car and drove off, heart and body aching. 

TBC