Title: Wolf Pack
Chapter Title: The Heartache
Author: Baby Blues
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, but the story is.
Summary: Faith thinks of what she has done. Angel puts Buffy to bed and he apologizes, but the female werewolf can’t forget about all the hurt he had caused her . . . or is there something else?
Dedication: To Nick, who said this quote . . . “To love you is a gift far more valuable than gold . . . For you to love me back is an honor greater than God’s own blessing.” Aww, I love you!
Excerpt:
~Angelus: Buffy . . . Please. I’m sorry.
~Buffy: . . . I’m tired, Angelus . . . Please, just go . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Faith sat huddled against the steel bars that restrained her within her little cell. It smelled like rotting eggs and a hundred year old pile of trash in the dungeon. Yes. A dungeon . . . who would’ve thought that there would actually be a dungeon in a French styled mansion?
She was hungry and tired . . . but most of all, she was lonely. She had torn her last remaining bonds and connections with her pack members by, not only betraying Buffy, but betraying them all as well. Whatever happened to one member of the pack, happened to everyone . . . they were all effected by it one way or another.
She had been a fool to lead the mate of the leader of the clan to the hands of the Initiative. It had been a stupid move . . . a careless one. She could’ve just been capture and shut up about it since the entire pack would’ve came to her rescue no matter how much they all despised her. It was an unwritten rule . . . a pull on each of the members to save one of their own . . . whoever that may be.
It was dark in the dungeon . . . and the smell seemed to reek and strengthen within every second she was in there.
And for the first time since she had lost her parents, she cried . . . after years of keeping up with her tough persona, she finally broke down and cried. But it wasn’t going to help her when it came to her trial, tears would not gain her sympathy from the pack members who would be the judges . . . and in the end, they would either be her saviors . . . or her murderers.
Why and how she believed she was able to get away with putting Buffy in danger, she’ll probably never know . . . but she had just now realized how stupid it was to do. The Moon Goddess and the Shadow King blessed only those who deserved it . . . and Faith was not the type who earned the right to be deserving at all . . . Plus, It was too late for a lesson.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Members of the pack who had returned to the mansion early, breathed a sigh of relief as Angelus and the rest of their clan entered the mansion doors. They were all more than a little beaten up, tired, yet relieved that it was finally over. Their glowing red wounds that had been quickly healed was prominent all over their body, and they were lucky that it‘ll never leave any scars.
The only scars they would have to worry about were the mental ones . . . but in time, those would heal as well, and help them all grow even stronger from the lesson of this time gone horrifically wrong.
But it was a bigger relief to see Buffy safe and sound, wrapped safely in Angelus’ favored leather jacket. He held her closely, pressing her body firmly but gently against his warm hard chest. His face remained blank and stoic, not giving off any sort of expression or mental thoughts as he trudged silently up the stairs.
He said not one word to any of them as he carried Buffy to their bedroom. The girls quickly shared a look and followed the silent werewolf up to the East Wing, knowing that he‘ll need their help.
“Get some hot water, towels, bandages, and anything else that should be needed,” Joyce listed to Kendra, “Tell Jenny to cook some soup and bring some water up here. Anya, go help her,” she ordered quietly, as if to not jolt Angelus in his dream-like trance.
The clan looked on in silence, watching as they disappeared down the hall. They couldn’t really do anything now except hope for the best, and start reorganizing so Angelus didn‘t have to go through more stress trying to get everyone back on their feet. It‘s the least they could do for their leader.
“I’m checking up on Faith,” Spike announced.
“You know the orders,” Xander told him, “We are not to go down there.”
“Well that just too bad, now isn't it?” Spike glared at him before stalking away.
He made a quick stop to the kitchen where Jenny was already preparing the soup for Buffy. She eyed him with question as he took a bowl and poured some of the broth in it, spilling a few drops on the counter. He then grabbed some bread and a bottled water before heading down to the dungeons, all the time not bothering to explain himself.
It was dark, and the odor of rotting rats and God-knew what else was strong and gagging. He grabbed the lamp that sat quietly at the end of the stairs and held it up above his head to search for the brunette.
“What do you want?” demanded a voice in the very first cell.
Spike rolled his eyes and made his way towards it. “Came to see your new digs,” he smirked, “Not really much of difference from your real room upstairs, with those painted black walls, and the stink of sex quite heavy in the air.”
“Fuck you,” she muttered.
“Whatever, pet,” he sighed and handed her the food he had brought down with him, hoping it would compensate for his harsh words.
She eyed it wearily before looking at him with suspicion. “What? You really think I’m going to poison you or something?” he scoffed, “Please. You’ve got to bloody well give me more credit than that.”
She stared at him for a moment longer before asking, “Why?”
Spike stared back at her, noting how her eyes looked so bleak and helpless. “I know we haven’t exactly treated you like a real family during the years you’ve been in the clan. You‘ve always been the loner when everyone else had another they can call their friend and their blood,” he looked away when a slash of pain crossed her face from the truth in his words, “I guess . . . what I‘m trying to say is, we‘ve also made our own mistakes when it came to you.”
He took a deep breath and let it out a few seconds later. “We’ve done you wrong, pet . . . but we had always kept part ourselves open to you, yet you never took the chance,” he continued on, “Buffy, most of all, had tried to keep you close than any of us had ever dared to bloody try . . . “
Faith was silent and she twirled the bottle of water in her hands. “How is she?” she asked quietly.
“A bit on the unconscious side, but the chit will be on her feet in no time,” Spike said, pride in his tone. “I should go,” he sighed, “Not supposed to be down here. See you tomorrow then, Faith.”
“Spike,” she called.
“What?”
“Will I get your vote tomorrow . . . in the trial?” she asked softly, a bit of hope in her voice.
“No,” he answered simply, causing her to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out. “I came down here to give you a bit of sympathy . . . but not my forgiveness,” he said, his back towards her, “You still led the pack into danger, Buffy practically died as well . . . and THAT, Faith, is unforgivable.”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
A moan from the bed jolted Angelus out of his inner thoughts and beatings as he came bounding across the room in three quick strides. All the women in the room looked up from what they were doing in time to see Buffy tilt her head to the side as she forced her eyed to flutter open.
“Buffy?” Angelus asked as he settled himself by the bed and held her small hand in his.
She groaned again as she tried to open her eyes, ignoring the throbbing pain in her head. But she fought off the overwhelming dizziness that threatened to consume her.
“Take it easy,” Angelus tried to soothe her as she battled her way to complete consciousness.
“Angel?” she asked in a whisper as her eyes finally opened, and was met with his dark brown eyes.
He smiled slightly and held her hand a bit tighter. “I’m right here,” he told her.
Buffy shook her head and tried to pull her hand away from his grasp. “No,” she said shakily, “Don’t touch me.”
Angelus’ heart dropped down to the floor in a bloody mess of utter grief as he watched her with hurt and shock in his eyes. This just couldn’t be happening. She didn‘t mean that. “Buffy . . . “
“Don’t,” she stopped him before pulling her hand away completely from his grip. “I don’t want to hear it,” she said, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
She was so wounded, her heart damaged badly from seeing him with Faith . . . from not knowing if he would still want her, especially with the upcoming news of bringing a new cub to the clan. Would he be able to love her . . . as well as their unborn child? And truly mean it? She was so uncertain of everything, so unsure of the future . . . of THEIR future.
And it felt as though she was back to that fateful day when her father died, the complete vagueness of what the future held, the pain of loss upon her back. She didn’t know what to do, but she knew one thing, she didn’t want to be near Angel at the moment.
“Buffy . . . “ Angelus tried again, but couldn’t when she closed her eyes in pain. He wanted to explain himself, to inform her what Faith did, to tell her how much he loved her, and to assure her that everything would be okay.
“Don’t.”
“Buffy . . . Please,” he said, “I’m sorry,” he pleaded.
She stared at him in silence before looking away, curling on her side as she turned away from him. “I’m tired, Angelus . . . “ she told him firmly as he winced at the name and how it sounded coming from her tone of voice, “Please . . . just go . . . “
He sat there, stunned as he looked around the room at the faces that stared at him in sympathy. No . . . she just couldn’t push him away like that. They belonged together, they were going to get married.
“Buffy . . . I beg you,” he said softly.
“Angelus,” Joyce interrupted, hating the anguish and misery that her child and fiance were drowning in. “How ‘bout you let us finish here, and come back later,” she suggested.
Angelus slowly stood up from his seat on the bed as he stared down at her small and fragile form. Her eyes were closed, but he knew that she was wide awake.
“I love you, Buffy,” he said.
But silence was his only reply as he stared at the ground, his soul practically crying out in agony. He quickly left the room, knowing that if he stayed for a minute longer, he wouldn’t have left. So he walked out the door, with a heartache gripping and tearing at his insides.
Yet if he would’ve stayed a few more seconds, he could’ve heard the soft, “I love you,” Buffy whispered back to his retreating form.
Continue to Chapter 33: The Punishment
Back to Chapter 31: The Savior