Title: Wolf Pack

Chapter Title: The Savior

Author: Baby Blues

E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com

Rated: NC-17

Disclaimer: Not mine, but the story is.

Summary: Angelus plans their attack as they make a move towards the Initiative base.

Dedication: To . . . Erin, because I luv her to death!


~Buffy: You should’ve just left me . . .

~Angelus: Don’t . . . I love you . . .


The search spell was cast, and it became much more easier to track down the Initiative base within the many tunnels and complexes underneath Sunnydale. The pack worked the entire afternoon and night, working on a plan as they studied the perimeter of the headquarters on the computer files of the Initiative that Willow hacked into.

They were all tired and weary, but the thought of their alpha female in danger drove them further into research and preparation. They all needed their rest, but relaxation was out of the question and in the very back of their minds at the moment.

Angelus, most of all, needed the most rest. It was written in his blood shot eyes and his posture. But whenever one of them suggested that he took a small break, his eyes would harden with pain and continue on with his work, driving himself even harder to find Buffy. The clan members had given up on him. He wouldn’t listen to any one of them, and they could try no longer.

“We kill everyone,” he announced nonchalantly.

Everyone stared at him in utter shock. “You can’t be serious, Angelus,” Joyce said worriedly. “We’ve never killed anyone in our lives.”

“Then you should get used to the idea,” the pack leader growled.

Her frown deepened. “Angelus . . . “

“I know you have your morals,” he interrupted her, “But this is a group of humans who kidnap our kind for the sake of science . . . as though we are nothing but sheep or cattle. We’re a different race, ladies and gentlemen. A race far more sophisticated than them . . . and let’s prove it.”

“But Angelus . . . “

“Please, Joyce,” he said, quickly looking away from the older woman to hide the fierce determination on his face, “I’ve let them off the hook once . . . and now they’ve taken Buffy . . . and I can’t let that go.”

Joyce sighed and stared at the faces of her fellow pack members. It was futile to change Angelus’ mind now. Especially when he was so set on saving Buffy and having his revenge upon all those who took part in her capture, and possibly her harm . . . His love for her and his anger towards the Initiative clouded his judgment and fogged his views, and because of that, he was merciless.

They all had the right to question him and fight his wishes by challenging his authority, but she could tell that everyone was too afraid to disagree with the man very close to reaching madness. Only a single thread kept him sane and balanced, and they weren’t sure what would break that one single string. And by doing that, cause more than just the Initiative’s death, but theirs as well.

Angelus saw the hesitation in their eyes and sighed. “I know this goes against your values and your unwritten law,” he began, “But these people are dangerous . . . they will come back ten times bigger, ten times more advanced. It’s best to get rid of them now, before it’s too late.”

They finally agreed in their silence.

“Let’s get this over and done with,” Angelus said as he eyed everyone in the study room with a hard glare that chilled everyone to their bones. “It’ll be morning in a few hours, and I want Buffy home before dawn.”

They left the mansion together in an eerie silence. They were stocked with supplies, spell books, weapons, and even bombs. The only members remaining were Anya and Adia, stayed to watch the small children, with only a protective barrier surrounding the mansion as their safety precaution.

The group slowly made their way towards UC Sunnydale within the protection the darkness the night offered willingly to them. They ran swiftly through the cover of the woods, looking like a band of hunters chasing their prey. They looked wild and animalistic as their hearts pounded against their chest in a rhythm that they could only hear.

The air smelled thick, felt heavy on their shoulders bare of anything except their clothes. Something unfamiliar hung around them, embracing their nerves in confines . . . and at that moment, they knew that they were being protected by their ancestors as their blood sung the song of the wolves.

They quickly split up when they came upon the frat house of the Initiative soldiers, surrounding the area and blocking each entrance and exit that was available.

Angelus moved slowly down the tunnels, cell phone at hand to give the signal to each of the pack members awaiting it. He could feel her near, and he wanted to cry out in joy and run after her and take her in his arms, forever holding her. But he had to be patient, for everyone’s sake as well as hers.

“On three . . . “ he whispered on the cell as he came to the main entrance of the private facility, “One, two, three,” he growled.

A loud bomb exploded in the distance, rumbling and making the ground quake with vibrations, the sound of an alarm followed next, and all hell soon broke loose. Angelus hid in the darkness as a group of soldiers ran out of the doors with guns in their hands, their feet pounding against the cement floor. He snuck inside the base with no problems as he looked around at the chaos that had consumed the Initiative.

“Camera one, disabled,” he heard Willow say, and with that, Angelus quickly marched down the stairs and hid behind a stack of empty barrels, watching silently as doctors and even more soldiers ran across his line of vision.

“Camera two and three . . . disabled,” Willow’s voice continued a moment later, and he was soon trudging down a sterile hall.

“There’s another camera coming up. It’ll try and identify you with a quick scan,” Willow said into his earpiece, “Give me a few minutes to find a ‘still’ of Walsh in the past few hours from the camera recordings.”

Angelus studied the camera in reply, the blinking red light momentarily stopping for a few seconds. He suddenly heard the loud gun shots outside the hall and quickly looked just in time to see an Initiative soldier fly against the window, blood smearing the glass with a red stain. He cringed at the sight and sharply turned away.

Only death was the punishment for the crime of taking his mate. He could not forgive the worry nor the heartache he went through in the past twenty-four hours . . . never.

“You’re ready to go,” Willow said, just as the sliding doors opened to reveal a maze of halls filled with rows and rows of individual cells, each containing starving, weak, and half dead werewolves, either in their human form, wolf form, or in between. It was a sickening sight, and another proof that these people were the monsters.

A little girl was huddled closely against her cell, a simple stuffed rabbit squeezed tightly in her small tiny arms as she stared at him with large innocent blue eyes. Once again, he was reminded of Buffy . . . he smashed the glass into pieces, causing the child to scream in the top of her lungs from the fright of the mad man.

“Angelus? What was that?” Willow asked worriedly.

“It’s okay,” he said softly to the small girl, “I’m sorry about that,” he tried to smile as he reached out a hand towards her. “You’ll be fine,” he assured her.

She stared at him with fear and then gazed at his outstretched hand before slowly bringing up her own and linking her tiny ones with his large ones. “Who’s closest to where I am, Willow?” he asked.


“Bring him in and a few others. We have more than fifty prisoners in here. I want them all out before we blow this place apart,” he told her.

“Got it,” she replied.

He smiled back down at the small and helpless child. “What’s your name?” he asked with a friendly smile, trying hard to keep the young girl at ease.

“Dawn,” she answered in a whisper.

“Dawn,” Angelus repeated as she gazed at the child, “That’s a pretty name.”

She blinked. “What your name?” she asked curiously, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“Angel,” was his reply.

“Angel?” she shook her head, her light brown hair fanning around her, “No . . . THAT’S a pretty name,” she cleared.

He chuckled lightly and carried her out of the cell so she didn’t have to step on the thick broken pieces of glass that littered the floor. He placed her on the floor just as Spike came sauntering in, his breathing labored as his blue eyes came upon the two of them.

“Cordelia, Oz, and Joyce are coming in,” he said.

Angelus nodded and looked at Dawn. “See that man there?” he asked her.

She nodded as she shyly looked up at Spike. The bleach blond winked at her, causing the little girl to blush and quickly look back at Angelus. “He’ll take care of you until I get back, alright?”

She nodded mutely and walked towards Spike, her cheeks still tinted pink. “Willow,” Angelus said as he looked around, “Where do I go from here?”

“You take the left hall and keep going straight. There’s a room at the very end . . . That’s where she’ll be,” the redhead answered, “I just have to warn you . . . about something . . . first,” she said, stopping him on his tracks.

“What is it?” he asked impatiently.

“You won’t like what you see.”

With a deep growl Angelus sprinted across the white floor, his heart rate speeding up as his head screamed and his soul cried. If anything happened to Buffy . . . He come upon the door within seconds, and smashed it open with a hard kick, the metal crushing from the strength of his blow.

Three pairs of eyes met his enraged ones. He didn’t have to think twice as he grabbed his simple and favored crossbow and shot the man with the black leather whip. He went down with a cry, collapsing on the floor with a thud as he stained the clean white tiles with deep crimson blood.

“Seize him,” the woman he had seen weeks ago ordered a rather tall and lanky young man with dirty blond hair and dark blue eyes.

It took a moment for the him to comprehend what she had just barked at him, but soon dropped his metal clipboard and reached for a gun. Angelus shot him in the shoulder before he could grab it, causing him to fall on his knees with a whimper.

His eyes came quickly upon the woman strapped against the wall, her bare back, although healed, was literally glowing red from the amount of energy it took to for her to mend the obvious slashes that had been inflicted upon her sweet and delicate flesh.

“Buffy . . . “ he chocked as he watched her shoulder shake from the sobs she was trying to hide.

From the moment he had burst into the room, Buffy had known that she had just been saved . . . and was finally secure and protected because of his presence. Repressed emotions for the past twenty-four hours ultimately took its toll on her, causing a breakdown as she lost her grip on her feelings.

She was tired, and the fear she had been keeping at bay was overwhelming, almost choking her as she tried to calm herself down. It didn’t work, and she continued to bawl even more when she heard him say her name so softly . . . so lovingly.

Before Angelus could take a step towards Buffy, the Professor Bitch stopped him mid-stride, glaring at him with cold blue eyes.

“What do you think you're doing here?” she demanded haughtily.

Angelus growled and grabbed her by the neck and lifting her in the air as his eyes glowed gold with power. This woman had taken his mate, had kidnapped her and tortured her . . . and he was not going to forgive that.

“You’re lucky I’m gonna give you a quick and less painful death, bitch,” he sneered through clenched teeth.

The woman choked and gagged as she tried to claw at his hand, leaving red trails on his flesh. But the small pain didn’t bother him as it quickly healed itself into nothing.

“Take a good look at what you will be dying for,” he roared softly as he turned her head around so she could gaze at the trembling body of Buffy, “Because she’ll be the last thing you’ll see before you go to hell,” he added huskily before quickly snapping her neck, the disgusting sound echoing against the sterile walls of the room.

He dropped her limp body to the ground and was by Buffy’s side in moments. He gulped the lump that formed in his throat as he undid the straps around her wrists and ankles, trying not to cry as tears poured down from her face in endless streams.

“You should’ve just left me,” she sobbed brokenly, causing his chest to constrict in pain.

“Don‘t,” he shook his head, forcing her to look at him, “I love you,” he told her.

But she said nothing in reply as she wilted in his arms, completely unconscious from the traumatic events that filled her entire day. He scooped her up, gently enfolding her within his embrace as he silently chanted a prayer to the Goddess Moon for her blessings.

He kissed Buffy’s forehead and headed towards the door, aiming his crossbow at Riley’s writhing form. The cry of pain and the silence that followed affirmed the soldier’s well-deserved death.

Continue to Chapter 32: The Heartache
Back to Chapter 31: The Fight