Living Memory
Part Four
The hospital was a large, beautiful building, with airy hallways and huge widows overlooking the gorgeous, elaborate gardens (currently withering from lack of water). The only indication that there was anything wrong with it's inhabitants was the twenty foot forcefield surrounding all the ground, barely visible in the sunlight, just a pale, shimmering wall.
Angel pulled up to the front gate and Vivien spoke briefly with the guard, who let them in. They parked in front of the manor house and walked silently into it's large white doors.
"Nice place," Angel commented as they stepped inside the front hallway.
"Only the best," Vivien said, trying to keep her tone light though she knew a hint of bitterness crept in. Angel watched her with concern. They hadn't talked much since her confession. He didn't want to scare her away, to make her thrust up the shields she'd obviously fought so hard to build up and keep strong. She, he guessed, was trying very hard not to let anymore of them crumble down, so she was quiet. Maybe she was just thinking.
What would it be like, Angel wondered, to see someone you loved more than life turned into a dangerous lunatic? He remembered as if it were yesterday, watching Cordelia lie in a hospital bed, convulsing with other people's pain, but that had only been for a day or two. He had been able to stop that. Who knew if anything at all could stop the deterioration of Mrs. McKeely's mind.Unless they were real visions. It wasn't impossible, since the woman's husband had been killed by a Mohra-a Dark assassin, indicating that he had been a Warrior-that she had somehow been opened to the inner vision of a prophet and simply hadn't been able to handle the visions. That was one of the reaons Angel had volunteered to come. The other, as he said, was to lend Vivien support.
She didn't look as if she needed it, but he could tell it was a façade. She walked confidently beside him, her head held high, her dark eyes clear, no hint of tears on her paler-than-usual face. But he was a master at hiding emotions, he could tell that beneath the cool, composed young woman was a scared little girl. And he wanted to help her more than he had wanted to help anyone in a very long time.
The woman at the front desk knew Vivien. She smiled gently at her.
"She's in High Security," she told her. Vivien nodded, obviously unsurprised, and pressed her thumb to a pad on the desk. It beeped and the woman nodded, then looked to Angel.
"He's a friend," Vivien said, then looked to her boss. "Press your thumb on there. They'll authorize you to go in upstairs." Angel did as he was told, marveling at the change from a time when the only locks had been opened with keys. The receptionist thanked them and Vivien turned away, walking quickly down the spotless hall, to a large elevator.
"It's the highest floor," she told Angel as they waited. He nodded, watching her. She noticed and gave him a tremulous smile. He didn't return it, but his eyes were steady and supportive. The elevator opened.
"Most of the time she's on the third level," Vivien explained as they began to go up. "They have windows there and beds.and they're allowed to go outside sometimes. The top level, only the doctors and certain visitors can go into, and it's just a bunch of padded rooms, with force fields around them so there's no chance of escape." Her voice was quiet and detached, completely impersonal as if she was a real estate agent explaining the facilities to a potential buyer. Angel didn't say a word. She leaned back against the wall of the elevator as it approached the top level and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, they glittered with unshed tears. "You don't know how many times I've come up here. I stopped counting."
Angel reached out and took her hand as the elevator doors opened.
Vivien was more glad than she could possibly have put into words to have Angel's hand, cold as it was, holding hers as they followed Dr. Andrews, her mother's personal doctor, down the cool white hall. Her mother's room was at the end of a long row and Vivien tried very hard not to look around her as they walked. Though all the doors were solid and closed, and she couldn't see any of the other patients, she knew they were there. Other people, with families and stories and children. She could hear some of them, shouting, or banging around or singing.She felt Angel's hand tighten around hers and was very glad he'd come.
"She's quiet now," Dr. Andrews explained as they approached her mother's room. Sarah Andrews was a kind woman, Vivien had learned in the past seven years, and a very good doctor. But she couldn't help her mother. "I'm going to keep the shield up though, in case something happens." Vivien nodded, knowing from experience what that meant; her mother would he able to see and hear her, and vice versa, but they couldn't touch. After a fit as violent as this latest one, she'd be lucky if her mother could even speak to her.
"Just.stay with me?" Vivien asked Angel quietly as Dr. Andrews tapped out a code on the panel outside the door, and gave it a voice ID.
"I promise," he replied quietly and she gave him another tiny smile, the best she could do. After so long, after so many times, one would think she would be prepared for this, one would think it wouldn't matter, she'd have hardened her heart against the sight.but she hadn't. She couldn't. Her mother was beautiful, bright, laughing woman, not.
And then the force field shimmered and the white turned to clear and Vivien could see her. She was slumped against the side of her rectangular, padded, white room, curled up on herself, looking so tiny, the only thing visible besides her white pants and shirt (unremovable, so she couldn't strangle herself) a fall of blond hair.
"Mommy?" Vivien whispered. The figure inside the room stirred. Vivien swallowed and Angel's hand tightened again, though it was different somehow. As if he couldn't help himself, as if he too was seeing something frightening inside that room. "It's Vivien. How are you feeling?"
Slowly the blond head lifted and hair slipped backwards, revealing the curve of a jaw, and then a nose, and then blue-green eyes, hurt and frightened and seeing so much more than the white room around her.
"Viv?" her mother whispered, a small, heartbreakingly sweet smile gracing her lips. Angel's hand tightened again, painfully this time, but Vivien couldn't look at him, couldn't look away from the shadow of her mother. Her mother, whose eyes were moving, were turning, were fixed suddenly, on someone else.
"Mommy?" Vivien asked, but her mother didn't look back to her. Didn't move.
Buffy Summers McKeely looked at the man standing beside Vivien, staring at her with dark, haunted eyes, and whispered, "Angel?"
He knew the second he saw her hunched form. How many times had he watched from her window as she curled into a ball, rocking away her misery? How many times had he longed to stroke that shower of blond hair, to soothe away all the pain? But he couldn't touch her here. He tired to deny it, told himself he was imagining things. It couldn't be her. It was impossible. Vivien was too old, and Buffy-Buffy would never be in a place like this, shut away from life. It couldn't be her.
But it was. It was her. And his heart broke into a thousand pieces when she looked at him with haunted eyes and whispered his name.
He was vaguely aware of Vivien stiffening in surprise and he turned his head slightly when she jerked her hand away, though his eyes never lost Buffy's. He couldn't look away.
"Angel?" she whispered again, a little louder now. "Is it really you? This isn't another.another dream?"
"It's really me," he whispered, hard pressed to make words come. "It's." He broke off, swallowing convulsively, staring through the force field to the tiny, slender figure of the woman he had loved with his heart, his soul.the woman he still loved, he admitted. Though maybe now he only loved the memory, not the woman at all.
She looked the same. There were a few small lines on her face, but for the most part it was still smooth. Her hair had no hint of grey in it, her body was still as slender and supple as it had always been. But her eyes.god, her eyes. There were no words for the terror, the pure living hell that those eyes had seen, no words for the pain reflected in them at each moment.
"Is he really there?" Buffy asked again, appealing this time to her daughter, who was standing watching them in shock, her face even whiter, her eyes huge and dark.
"Y-yes, of course," she said. "What's going on? Mommy, how do you know him?" She looked at Angel, her eyes accusing. "What's going on?" He couldn't answer, just shake his head, his eyes still devouring Buffy.
"Angel," she whispered again, then looked to Vivien and then back, her eyes widening in horror. Her body began to uncurl from it's fetal position. "No. No! You're not supposed to be here! You're not supposed to know. How do you know?"
"Know what?" Vivien asked, her voice rising, beginning to get slightly frantic. "Mom, this is Angel. He's my boss. I don't understand!"
"Your-?" Buffy cut off and settled back down slightly, her eyes going back to Angel. "You're really here? Why did you come here?"
"I didn't know Buffy," Angel explained softly. "I didn't know it was you." Buffy's eyes darted from him to Vivien and back.
"Then you're not here to help me?" she demanded, losing all softness in her voice and demeanor.
"Help you?" Vivien asked, glancing at Dr. Andrews. "Mom, I can't help you. We can't, remember?"
"He can," Buffy hissed, pointing at Angel. She pulled herself slowly to her feet, every inch of her body tense. "He can stop it. He can."
"Calm down Buffy," Dr. Andrews said, stepping in front of the shocked, tense Vivien. Angel stood completely still, unable to look away, unable to comprehend that this was Buffy, his Buffy, shut away from all light, shut away in a small white room.
"No!" Buffy shouted, becoming more agitated. "He can stop it! He has to!" She turned pleading, angry eyes on Angel. "Don't you see, you have to stop it! You have to save her!"
"Calm down," Dr. Andrews repeated.
"NO!" Buffy screamed, running at the doorway. Vivien gripped Angel's arm before she could stop herself, not sure whether she was afraid that her mother would get out, or that she would once more be smashed against an invisible wall. The latter came true of course, and Buffy was propelled backwards across the room. Vivien shut her eyes very tightly, but her mother didn't stop screaming.
"You have to *save* her!" she yelled, as Dr. Andrews typed in a code to put the door back on, and then hustled Vivien and Angel quickly back down to the end of the hall.
"Who are you?" she demanded pointe blank, turning to Angel. "Do you know her?"
"I-I used to," he said softly, still reeling. It hurt, like a knife in his gut, knowing that she was in there, that she couldn't even look at him without being swallowed by things that weren't there. Not Buffy. God, anyone but Buffy.
"What?" Vivien demanded. "How?" He gave her a slightly apologetic look, noting the betrayed, frightened darkness in her eyes.
"I knew her.a long time ago. I helped her when she was.still getting used to her job." Vivien's eyes widened as she realized what he meant, that he knew her mother was the Slayer. Well, a Slayer. There was another one.
"What kind of a relationship did you have?" Dr. Andrews asked. Angel met her light brown eyes, and then looked at Vivien, who was watching him with all the hurt fright of a little girl. He looked back to the doctor.
"A very, very hard one."
"I reminded you of her, didn't I?" Vivien asked as they drove back into LA in his convertible. Her hair whipped around her dark eyes, giving her a rather wild look. There was no wonder in that, Angel was surprised she was coherent.
"Yes. When I first saw you. You don't look much like her though."
Vivien swallowed. She'd always thought so herself. She wished that she looked a little more like her. Maybe then he would have asked. Maybe then she would have known. She wouldn't have made her mother relive twenty five year old memories. Not that she knew what went through her mother's mind. She would never know that.
"And I reminded Cordelia of her too. Cordelia knew her, didn't she?"
"Yes, they were in the same graduating class, same high school. That's how I met Cordelia."
"But you met my mother first."
"Yes."
Vivien looked over at him, not knowing what to think. Angel hadn't been very forthcoming about how he knew Buffy, mostly because if Dr. Andrews heard him talking about meeting her twenty five years before, and her being a Slayer, she probably would have slapped him in High Security too. He'd been very evasive.
"How did you help her?" she asked. Angel shrugged.
"I.patrolled with her sometimes. And I helped her fight the Mayor and the Master.well, I never helped her fight. She wouldn't let me. I held off the minions for her."
"The Master?" Vivien asked. He gave her a startled look.
"She never told you?"
"She never told me anything about her Slaying. She didn't want me to be involved in that world at all. She wanted me to be safe and ignorant," Vivien explained, a tiny bit of bitterness creeping into her voice again.
"Then why are you working for me?" Angel asked. Vivien gave him an even look.
"If you really knew my mother, you wouldn't have to ask."
He didn't. If there was one thing Vivien had inherited from her mother, it was the need to help. The need to fight. The need to do something to make the world a better place.
"Why didn't you ask if I was her daughter?" Vivien inquired after a few moments of silence. "I reminded you of her.why didn't you ask?"
"I talked to her the year you were born. She didn't say anything, so.I assumed you were too old to be hers," Angel replied, though there was something he wasn't saying, she could tell.
"I wonder why she didn't say anything," Vivien mused, staring out along the dark highway, thinking about the look in her mother's eyes when she'd seen Angel. And the look in his. And then she knew.
"You were lovers," she said. It wasn't a question. Angel didn't bother to deny it.
"Yes," he said softly.
Vivien's mouth tightened, and she counted the years. "She was the one that gave you true happiness," she breathed, wondering what had been between them all that time ago.
"Yes."
"You loved her. You still love her."
Angel didn't say anything at all. Vivien felt the sudden need to cry again, but not for herself this time. For Angel, who had just seen the only woman he'd ever loved reduced to an inmate in the prison of her own mind.
"I know how much it hurts," she whispered, "To see her like that."
Angel's free hand reached out and caught one of her own as they drove silently back into the City of Angels.
Part Five
When Vivien walked into work the next day, she found herself immediately enveloped in a warm hug.
"Oh my god," Cordelia murmured, hugging her tightly. "I knew you reminded me of her." Vivien blinked as Cordelia released her, surprised and still a little shellshocked from the day before. Cordelia looked less-groomed than before, though only by a little. Her eyes were slightly red, and she had less make-up on than before, plus her clothes looked like she'd been wearing them for a day, rather than like they'd just come out of a store window. She smiled brilliantly suddenly and looked twenty.
"Hi," Vivien said, bemused.
"Hi," Cordelia replied. "Angel told me. I hope you don't mind. I knew your mom in high school. Okay, so I kinda thought she was a loser but, we hung out anyway. Are you okay?" Vivien nearly laughed at the sudden change of subject, but was too tired and heartsick for that.
"I'm fine," Vivien lied. Cordelia arched her eyebrows at her. "Okay, not really fine.but I'm dealing."
"You are like Buffy," Cordelia muttered, stepping back so Vivien could pass her and put down her purse.
"Not that much," Vivien said softly, with a tiny, sad smile.
"Oh! I didn't mean like that," Cordelia said quickly. Vivien spun back around.
"I know you didn't," she replied, just as quickly. "That wasn't what I meant." She trailed off and there was a slightly awkward silence. "Is Angel here?"
"He's downstairs," Cordelia said, waving a hand towards Angel's office, where Vivien knew a staircase led down to his apartment. She'd never been down there. She started to walk by, but Cordelia grabbed her arm and she turned back. "If there's anything I can do.or anything I can tell you about.I'd be happy to. I know Angel is hard to get a lot out of, but he means well and.and I could tell you anything you wanted to know."
"I'm all right," Vivien said, forcing another smile. All of a sudden she felt like she did with Willow, except Willow never actually offered out loud to tell her things. Here was yet another not-exactly-aunt that knew so much more about her own mother than she ever would, someone who cared about her, more for her mother's sake than her own, someone who wanted her to be all right. She couldn't just be all right for them, even if she wanted to.
"No you're not," Cordelia said frankly, releasing her arm. Vivien blinked. This woman just kept startling her. Cordelia shooed her off. "Go on. I know you want to see Angel. He's awake."
"Thanks," Vivien whispered. Cordelia shooed her some more and Vivien went obediently. She walked quickly down the stairs, wondering if she should call out and warn him she was coming down, or if he would hear her.
He was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. "Angel," she said.
"Good morning. Did you sleep?" he asked. She almost smiled. Not "Did you sleep well?" or even "Did you sleep all right?" just "Did you sleep?" He seemed to know her more than she did at times.
"A little," she told him truthfully. "You?"
"No."
She walked slowly down the last few steps until she was face to face with him. What to say? He had a demon to combat. Her mother was slowly going more and more insane. He had loved her mother once upon a time.
"I have to leave early," Vivien said after a moment. "But I could come in tonight if you want."
"Are you going to see her?" he asked, his voice odd. She chanced a look at him, and then looked away again from the pain in his dark eyes.
"No. Well, maybe. I have to pick someone up at the airport. My mom's friend, maybe you knew him.Xander Harris?"
"I knew him." She looked up again and was surprised to find Angel's mouth turned up a tiny bit. At her startled look, he explained. "Xander never liked me. He thought I was bad for Buffy. He was right of course. He used to call me 'Dead Boy.' Has he grown up at all?"
"A lot," Vivien said, thinking of her almost-uncle. She smiled involuntarily at the thought of him antagonizing Angel. She could almost picture it. He used to be like that all the time; funny, irreverent, always a story or joke. Then, after Kevin died, he got quieter. When Buffy went into the hospital, he started having these long silences. He went to visit her all the time before he moved away. He'd regained a lot of his old self of course, but it was different now.he always had this sadness in his warm brown eyes. Vivien supposed they all did.
"You don't have to come in tonight," Angel said. "In fact, I would understand if you didn't want to.to continue working here." Vivien was so shocked her head snapped up and she stared at him, oddly pleased to realize the oddness in his voice was regret, and hope and worry.
"Do you want me to leave?" she asked.
"No."
"Good, because I want to keep working here. Angel.it's all I have. It's all I can do. My mom didn't just randomly go off the deep end one day. They did that to her. All the demons, all the Dark.they did that to her. And I want to fight it. It's all I've ever wanted to do. I want to fight it with you," Vivien admitted, trying and failing to keep her voice casual. She had looked down again, and when she glanced up, she saw him looking very serious and almost.proud.
"If your mother." he began, and stopped, searching for words. She waited, watching him. He put a hand up to her cheek and said softly, "She would be very proud."
Vivien told herself that he, like the others, probably only cared for her for her mother's sake, but it didn't help, and she kept on feeling warm inside all the same.
The airport was crowded with early Thanksgiving travelers, but Vivien managed to get to the gate in time to meet Xander coming off the plane. She gave a little wave and soon found herself, for the second time that day, enveloped in a large hug (though this one was a lot more bear-ish, and a lot less worried about wrinkling clothes).
"How are you?" Xander whispered in her ear, still hugging her. Vivien shook her head slightly, indicating she didn't want to talk about it, and he pulled away, picking up his duffel bag, which he slung over his shoulder. He never packed much for these emergency trips, He kept some clothes at Willow's house because he visited so often, so he just brought the bare necessities. He eyed her, and tilted her chin up so she was forced to meet his concerned brown eyes. "Hi Viv."
"Hi Uncle Xander," she replied, looking straight back up at him. "Thanks for coming."
"Of course." He said it like it was nothing, but Vivien knew it actually meant a lot. He had a life of his own, after all, a wife and children, and a job.Yet he would drop them all at a second to come support her.to come support Buffy. Who was her mother to all of these people? Vivien wondered. She knew why she loved her, but Buffy was her mother, she couldn't help it. Why did all of they? Why did she mean so much to so many people?
Vivien wondered if she would ever mean that much to anyone.
"Come on, let's get out of here," Vivien said as her eye fell on a young woman running into her parent's happy arms. Xander nodded agreement and understanding and they began walking out silently. After a moment, Vivien said, "I have to tell you something. It's about.Angel." Xander stopped abruptly and someone ran into him from behind. Vivien grabbed his arm and dragged him after her.
"What did you say?" he demanded, his eyes wide.
"Angel. I.well.he's my boss," Vivien said with a sigh.
"He's what?" Xander demanded, his voice rising slightly.
"My boss. He didn't know! And neither did I. He thought I was too old to be my mom's daughter, because he spoke to her the year I was born and she didn't say anything.so he never asked and I had no idea who he was, thanks to Mom's little edict about her past."
"How did you find out? And why are you working for him?" Xander asked, still obviously astonished.
"He offered to go with me yesterday to visit Mom. I-I didn't want to go alone. She recognized him."
"What happened?" Xander inquired in a cold, hard voice. Vivien looked up at him with sad, dark eyes, remembering.
"She wigged out. Not like that's anything unusual. I've been waiting to go back and see her until you came."
"Do you know why she wigged out?" Xander asked. Vivien had a feeling it was a rhetorical question, like he thought he already knew the answer. She gave an awkward shrug.
"She always does," she said quietly.
"He made her life a living hell!" Xander exclaimed. Abruptly he lowered his voice until it was so quiet only she could hear it. "He drank her blood. Of course she freaked out."
Vivien's mouth opened and closed in horror and she stepped back. "That's the scar?" she asked in a whisper. Xander nodded, old hurt clear in his eyes. He shook his head suddenly.
"She let him. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It was a long time ago." Vivien shook her head, unsure what she was denying-that it had happened, or that it didn't matter anymore. Angel had drank her mother's blood. She gave a tiny, involuntary shudder.
"Why are you working for him anyway?" Xander demanded, moving on. "You know you're supposed to stay out of th-"
Vivien pulled her attention back to the present and her temper flared. "Do you stay out of it? Does Aunt Will? Did Kevin? No! What do you think it's like knowing there are terrible things out there, hurting and killing people and being forbidden to help stop them?! Now I'm helping. It's not Angel's fault, he didn't know. I overheard you and Aunt Willow talking about Cordelia, and I dug up his old business card, and I went, all right? And you can't make me stop. You have no right to make me stop!"
It was Xander's turn to look taken aback. Vivien knew he was shocked at her sudden change. She was always very good in their presence. Accepting whatever came along. Working hard to get what they wanted for her-a scholarship to Berkeley, a job, money to support herself and her mother.But that was because she never let herself want anything, so it never went against what they thought she wanted. But now she did. She wanted to fight. And they weren't going to stop her.
"I wouldn't try," Xander said softly after a moment, surprising her. They began walking again, through the crowded airport, though it felt like they were in their own little bubble, a separate world from the rest of the people. There were people right beside her that didn't know who her mother was. There were people all around her who didn't know that demons threatened every breath they took. There were people going home to their own problems, their own families, that would never know or care that she fought for them.
"Thank you," Vivien replied.
"I know what it's like," Xander said in an odd voice. "That need to do something. You mother tried to keep me safe, away from fighting, but I wouldn't. I followed her into a very dangerous place. And I killed one of my best friends-well, he had been. I killed what was left of his body. Buffy never tried to stop me after that."
"Thank you," Vivien repeated, and kept walking in silence.
It didn't fit. It just.didn't fit.
Angel paced back and froth through his apartment, thinking, unable to stop thinking, unable to stop seeing Buffy's eyes as she looked up at him, half-sane and hurting. And as they looked at Vivien.
There was something wrong.
He had not doubt she had loved her husband very much. He knew Buffy well enough to know that she would never have married someone she didn't want to spend her life with. But his death would not have driven her crazy. It couldn't have. She had gone through so much. One death would not break her, not while she felt she had something to keep living for. And she did. She had Vivien. He couldn't believe that Buffy would ever succumb to madness while someone needed her that much.
Of course, maybe she really wasn't as strong as he thought. Maybe she didn't have a choice. Maybe it was just the last straw, and she couldn't handle anymore.
But why would she tell Angel to "save her?"
There was something more.
Angel reached to grab his jacket and paused. What if this was all in his head. Willow would have thought about this by now, Giles would have tried everything.He was just overreacting. He just couldn't think rationally about this, not when it involved Buffy. As she'd once said, love makes you do.the wacky? But he didn't even know her anymore, how could he say what she was really like? She had been in a mental hospital for the last seven years.
He couldn't conceive of anything. Nothing but her eyes.
He grabbed his jacket, and walked out of his apartment.
To her.
Warmth, human and soothing, steady pulse, beating, beating, breathing, up and down, and warm and human, so perfectly human.
Angel. Angel had been there.
Clinging, whispering, sobbing, never let go, never forget, always hold on, forever, hold on and never let go of the memory, the sweet memory.
He had come.
Claws, ripping, tearing apart, prophecies shouted, screaming, pain, gone gone gone.
She didn't scream, even though the pain ripped through her.
Angel.
He couldn't go away again.
Part Six
He couldn't see Buffy through the door, but he knew she was there. There was, after all, no way to escape. Dr. Andrews watched him with quiet worry.
"She's sitting on the opposite wall, by the corner. You can't see her there."
"Please, can I speak to her alone?" he asked, looking away from the white room for a moment. She studied his face and then nodded finally.
"I'll be down the hall in my office. We have monitors on her, so I'll know if she's agitated or having a fit. If something happens, please come away and come get me?" the woman instructed. Angel nodded, indicating he would, and she gave him one last long look before walking back down the large, spotless hall. Angel turned back to the room.
"Buffy, it's me," he said softly, knowing she could hear him. Knowing she was listening. "I need you to stay calm. I have to talk to you about your visions, but if you become upset or yell I won't be able to, I'll have to go away. And I think it's very important I talk to you. Will you try and stay."
"Sane?" a familiar voice asked lightly. Angel started and Buffy walked into view, standing erect, looking for all the world like a very tired, very hurt woman with her sanity completely intact.
"Wasn't the word I was going to use," Angel replied. Buffy tilted her head at him, watching him with a kind of quiet, bitter curiousity.
"Why not?" she asked.
"Because I don't think you were ever not," Angel told her seriously. She didn't move, her head still cocked sideways, her eyes deep and unfathomable.
"But you're wrong. I was. Maybe I still am." A tiny smile played on her lips and she turned away from him, pacing down the length of her cell and then back. "One would almost expect it you know. I'm surprised it didn't happen earlier. For instance, when I died. Or when my boyfriend turned evil and tortured me for months after I gave up my virginity to him. Or maybe when I was expelled from school, kicked out of my house, hunted by the police and forced to send the man I loved to hell. Or when I gave my life's blood to the very same man, who then left me. Or maybe when-when-" She stopped and spun around, shadows falling into her eyes in a room where there were no shadows. Angel ached at the sight. She looked so small, so alone, so completely hopeless. She swallowed convulsively and he wondered what she was going to say next. He knew where his mind went.but she would never know that. Never.
"What do you see?" Angel asked, before she could say anything else. Before she could hurt either of them more.
She backed up several steps, shivering, one hand passing over her stomach and then hovering there, clenching and unclenching.
"A demon," she whispered harshly, her eyes beyond him now, not even seeing him at all, but something not of this clean, white hospital. Something only her eyes could see. "Huge, and hot. It's always so hot. And it's breath feels like fire. It's so big, and-and I can't fight it. I can't stop it. And it's claws are so painful.and it kills her, every time. It rips her apart. And no one can stop it." Her eyes turned to Angel, but he had the feeling she didn't really see him at all, or at least, not as he was. "Will you stop it?" she appealed so quietly he had to strain to hear, even with his superior hearing. Silent tears ran down her cheeks and she looked like nothing so much as a little girl, a frightened little girl that wanted her mother, wanted to be held and comforted. He had seen that look in Vivien's eyes, he thought suddenly, but here was her mother, looking even more frightened, and unable to control it.
All of a sudden, it was gone, or she was, she she slumped to the floor, bracing herself up on her hands, her bright hair falling forward to hide her face as she shook silently.
He wanted to hold her so much. He wanted to run to her and tell her it would be all right, he would make it all right. But he didn't know if he could. But to watch her there, so hurt, so helpless.
"I will," he promised, and she stilled slightly and looked up at him with despairing eyes that knew him again. "I swear I will stop it."
"Where have you been?" Cordelia demanded when Angel walked into the office.
"Visiting Buffy," he replied, walking past her. She spun and stalked after him.
"What?! Why didn't you tell me? And what exactly, was that supposed to accomplish? In case you didn't notice, we have a demon to fight, and we don't know what it is, and we don't know how to stop it! And the Slayer that's supposed to be helping you is locked up inside a looney bin!" Cordelia shouted, throwing up her arms.
"She's not crazy," Angel said, softly but firmly as he draped his jacket over the back of his chair. Cordelia blinked. He turned to look at her. "Did the demon have claws? In your vision?"
"I already told you that," Cordelia said. "Remember, big long description? It's around here somewhere." She turned to search his desk for a pad of paper and then stopped as he eyed her. She sighed. "Yes, it had claws. In fact, that was a large feature of the vision. Big 'ol sharp claws. Why do you ask?"
"Because Buffy has not had a mental breakdown. She's just been having visions." As Cordelia gaped at him, Angel went on, "She had them of lots of things-first of her husband's death. Mostly, one reacurring vision that gets stronger and stronger, and physically hurts her when it comes. Of this demon. I'm pretty sure it's the same one."
"So you just waltzed in there and she told you all about it?" Cordelia asked. "I thought she was all Psycho Girl."
"She has moments of calm," Angel explained. He looked away from his friend. "I-I think she was holding back. I could tell that there was something else going on.like she was in pain, or seeing things I couldn't, but trying not to show it."
"Well, this is great!" Cordelia announced cheerfully. "Vivien'll be happy." Angel gave her a blank look and she lost her smile. "What?"
"We don't know if it can ever be stopped, or controlled," he pointed out. "It may kill her, or drive her actually insane. It's much more intense than your visions Cordelia, and I think nearly constant. It must be slowly eating away at her sanity until she doesn't know what's real and what isn't. Plus.she keeps talking about the demon killing someone. She can't say who, just a girl, but."
"But you think it might be Vivien," Cordelia said softly, her voice completely serious. Angel didn't reply, but she could tell by the look in his eyes.
"I promised I would stop it."
"Of course you will," Cordelia said gently. "We'll keep her safe Angel. We'll keep everyone safe. Did she give you more description? Do you think you can figure out what it is?" Angel nodded and she sighed in relief.
"Then let's start looking," she suggested, knowing she had to get his mind off of Buffy and her daughter. He nodded again and she put a hand up to his cheek, turning him to look into her eyes. "Angel, we will stop it. You'll see. And then we'll find a way to help Buffy."
"What if there isn't a way?" Angel asked, his eyes haunted, and Cordelia wondered what Buffy was like now, what she'd said to him; what he'd done to himself after seeing her.
"There will be," she promised with confidence she didn't have. "We'll find one."
"I thought you'd be up here," Vivien murmured as she stepped out onto the roof. Angel didn't turn to look at her, afraid she'd look too much like Buffy.
She wasn't insane. Not yet anyway.
"How's Xander?"
"He's all right. He's at my apartment. He wanted to come.to protect me or something.but I told him to mind his own business."
"What's up?" Angel asked. Vivien shrugged as she joined him at the edge of the roof.
"Find anything about the demon?"
"Yes actually. It's a leriki demon. Should be about thirty or forty feet tall, with claws the sides of swords and a very vicious temper."
"Oh. That's nice," Vivien said faintly, trying to picture it and then deciding it wasn't worth the effort. "How'd you find it?"
Angel hesitated. "I visited your mother."
Vivien stifferened beside him, not looking over, staring straight out into the darkness. "How was she?"
"She didn't rave at all."
"Oh. That's good then. I don't understand the connection."
"Vivien, what your mother sees.they're visions, like Cordelia has, only more intense and longer. I think she sees herself actually there and can feel it and everything. That's why she attacks people, because she thinks they're the demon. She saw this demon, the same one Cordelia saw. Her vision helped me identify it."
Vivien held very still, feeling like if she moved, or breathed, she would wake up and find this was all a dream.
"Then she isn't insane?"
"I don't think so," Angel said quietly and Vivien closed her eyes, holding back something dangerous and amazing that threatened to pour over inside her. She took a deep breath and opened them again, to find Angel watching her with a very guarded sort of joy.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"All I did was see it," he replied. "It doesn't make it better you know. I don't know how to stop them and the visions are.probably driving her truly insane."
"I understand," Vivien said, her voice unsteady despite her best efforts. Angel reached over and tucked a piece of her hair back and unable to help herself, she leaned into him. His arm closed around her shoulders, strong and comforting and he held her as she shook, amazed at her own reaction.
"I just can't seem to control myself these days," she whispered into his chest when she could speak again.
"I know the feeling," he agreed. She smiled tremulously up at him as she pulled away, went back to lean against the railing and stare out at the wide city. She didn't think about anything. She didn't know what to think. Her mother wasn't insane. She wasn't insane.
She wasn't insane.
But would she be, soon?
Vivien closed her mind to the possibility. For one night, she wasn't going to think of all the bad things. For one night, she wasn't going to think about the way her mother looked even when she wasn't having a vision, she wasn't going to think about the forty foot tall demon with it's huge claws, or how much she trusted Angel even though she'd only known him for two months. She wasn't going to think about that.
For one night, she was just going to think about her mother's smile, and her eye's, once upon a time, how they had always sparkled. For one night, she was going to know that her mother had not broken, had just been bent. For one night, she was going to feel again, and she was going to feel good.
One night, that's all she wanted.
She knew beyond all doubt, that all the good feelings would go away the next day. They always did.
"Don't say it," Angel warned. A slow smile spread across Xander's face and he opened his mouth. Angel held up a hand. Vivien's eyes held daggers as she regarded her "uncle." Xander closed his mouth.
"Hello Angel," he said finally. Vivien smiled brilliantly at him.
"Hello Xander," Angel replied cordially. They stood eyeing each other for another long moment. Cordelia walked into the room and looked from Xander to Angel and then back to Xander. Then she threw up her hands.
"My god, look at you two! You're like a pair of five year olds! Come on, we have work to do!"
"Work?" Xander asked plaintively. Cordelia scowled at him and he held out his arms. She went into them and hugged him quickly. "Long time no see Queenie," he whispered.
"Yeah, well, I can't say I regret it Loser Boy," Cordelia shot back affectionately as she pulled away. Xander looked to Angel.
"And you say someone actually married her?" he demanded. Angel's mouth twitched up and Vivien supressed a giggle. "Lemme guess. He's a seventy year old banker that just likes to squeeze her ass?"
"Not exactly," Angel said as Cordelia glared.
"Sixty?" Xander tried.
"He's forty five," Vivien put in helpfully, Cordelia having told her that much. She'd also shown her a picture of the tall, black, rather handsome man. Xander sighed. "And a vampire hunter." Xander scowled. Cordelia looked smug.
"He also plays the stock market on the side," Cordelia added with a tiny smile. "I taught him, but he's shown quite the flair. Keeps me in Gucci, something you could never do."
"You kept yourself in Gucci back then," Xander snapped back. Vivien gaped. They had dated? You couldn't find more opposite people. Well, they were both good hearted, but besides that.Weird.
Angel sighed. They all turned to look at him. "We have a lot to do."
"I'll call Giles," Vivien volunteered. "He'll be happy to help." Angel nodded and looked to Cordelia and Xander, who were looking like teenagers again despite their status as middle-aged middle-class married parents.
"Donut?" Cordelia asked, snatching a box up from nearby and offering them to Angel and Xander. Xander snatched one immediately. Angel turned and went back into his office.
The day brought about nothing really helpful, except Willow's offer to try and hack into Wolfram and Hart's computer and see if she could get any information for them. Vivien called the hospital and found out her mother had been acting very calm lately, but had alternated between extreme activity-pacing up and down the walls of her room, over and over-and nothing, just lying on the floor, silent. Dr. Andrews didn't know whether to be happy she'd stopped screaming, or worried.
That night, as Vivien walked back up to the roof to find Angel and tell him that Wesley had called and there was no more news, she wondered too. She wondered if he had been right, if her mother was really sane at all, or if it had all just been wishful thinking. God knows, she'd wanted to believe it.
She reported her news quickly, and found herself unable to just go back downstairs. Xander was waiting for her to take her to dinner and then home for some much-needed rest. She hadn't been sleeping well, tossing and turning and waking up with the echoes of screaming in her mind.
It was almost Thanksgiving, she thought idly, staring out over the city. She didn't feel like giving thanks for much. Neither would most people-the drought was hitting everyone hard. Every plant in southern California had withered. Baths and showers weren't allowed, people just had to clean off in dry chemical sprays, and drinking water had been rationed.
Thanksgiving.
She wondered what her mother had been giving thanks for, all those years ago.
"Almost twenty three years ago my mother was out there somewhere," she mused, waving a hand around to indicate the city. "Getting massively drunk. Getting picked up by some random guy with dark hair and straight nose." Angel went very straight and very still beside her.
"What do you mean twenty three years ago?" he asked softly.
"Well she was here for Thanksgiving when I was conceived," Vivien explained. "I'm sorry, if it bothers you to hear ab-"
"No," Angel said hollowly, "It's all right."
She could tell it wasn't, though she had no idea why.
"I think she was upset about something, she never wanted to talk about it," Vivien whispered, unable to stop herself. "Something about an ex-boyfriend." She stopped and looked over at him, her eyes wide. "Was it you? Did she see you that day?"
"Yes," Angel breathed into the hot air. Vivien shivered at the ice of the word and when he didn't say anything else for a very long time, she said good night and went inside. Angel didn't move. He didn't look after her. He just stared out at the night and remembered another one where he had stood here, hearing her voice whispering over and over again that she would never forget, as out in the city below she had made love to another man.
On to Part Seven