BAD ANGEL

A/N: Ok, couple of things. First, sorry for the delay, RL has been pulling me in several different directions and I didn't have much free time. Because of that, this chapter is shorter than usual but there are some major developments. Also, I am putting up a disclaimer right now, there's some mental/psychological stuff that happens here that may or may not be realistic. I started doing some research on it but again, I have been incredibly pressed for time so I pretty much had to wing it. So my apologies if it's kind of weak but overall I think it works out.
And finally, for those of you who have been reading since I first started posting this fic, you may need to refresh yourselves a bit, particularly near the end of the first chapter (Introduction) when Angel and Lindsey are talking.
Enjoy!
And for those who have asked, I passed my exam ... YAY!!!


Part 22

Buffy sat motionless for several long moments, her mind seemingly stuck on one thought. She was late. She was never late. Never. But she was. Her period should have shown up over two weeks ago but it didn’t. Not even a cramp. She couldn’t seem to move passed it, her mind frozen. She couldn’t even begin to fathom why she was late. If she even dared to venture down that line of thinking she would die. But all she could think about was the unprotected sex they had and how tired and drained she felt lately. Of course all along she had just attributed it to the stress of the situation but what if it wasn’t? What if? No. She couldn’t go there. She was just late; maybe it was just the stress, perhaps it was affecting her cycle. Stress could sometimes do that right? She had to believe that was all it was. Stress.
Just then she heard Angel moving around the bedroom, his presence kicking her mind into gear. Alarmed, she quickly wiped around the toilet and then washed up. She had to act as if nothing was amiss.
But as she brushed her teeth, her mind flooded with memories of each and every time he entered her, his every thrust, his every climax filling her with his seed. He deliberately chose not to use a condom. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was part of his plan all along. Was he trying to get her pregnant? Had he always intended to knock her up? The possibility was maddening. Sickened by her suspicions, she quickly washed up before she threw up again and took a deep breath, preparing to leave the bathroom.

The sight of him as she stepped out of the bathroom made her seethe with anger and hatred. She wanted to kill him. Attempting to slip by him, she pulled away when he tried to pull her into his lap.
Puzzled, “Buff?” When she didn’t respond, “Buffy?”
At the tone of his voice, she turned to him, her hands resting on her hips “WHAT?”
Taken aback by her sudden change in attitude, he stood and walked to her, towering over her until she took a small step back. “Talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Really? So you didn’t just run into the bathroom with barely a word, I didn’t just hear you throwing up and you aren’t pale as a ghost?”
“Angel why do you have to be so overbearing? I’m not two years old; I don’t need to be monitored.”
“Oh I see, well I’ll stop monitoring you when you stop hiding things from me.”
“I’m not hiding …” She stopped at his look, “Angel, I wasn’t feeling well, I threw up, that’s all. It’s nothing to be concerned about.”
“You expect me not to be concerned when you’re not well?”
“I am well, I just had a little upset stomach … but it’s passed now, I feel fine.”
Looking at her briefly, he knew she was still holding something back but arguing with her would only make her less cooperative. He’d have to find some other way to get her to share.
Pulling her to him, he paused when she stiffened in his arms, she could barely look at him. Something was up. Scooping her up, he tossed her onto the bed and climbed over her, deliberately trapping her under him. But the look of utter terror on her face stopped him from touching her further, her panicked breathing unnerving him. Backing off, he rolled onto his side next to her and took her hand, kissing it.
After a few tense moments, “I wasn’t going to do anything to you.”
“I didn’t say you were.” She replied softly, her back to him.
“You didn’t have to.”
The heavy silence hung in the air before Angel tried again, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I can’t … not yet, please don’t make me.”
“Buff, I want to respect your privacy but you have to promise me …”
“Angel, don’t.”
“Buffy, I am serious. I need to know that if something is wrong, if you are ill or anything, that you will tell me the truth. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
”I know Angel.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” When she looked at him, he added, “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
She knew it was true. If she knew nothing else, she knew that. All that she discovered about him confirmed it. It was a heavy burden to bear. And now she was probably carrying his child. His child. Their baby. She knew she should tell him, she certainly was tempted but she couldn’t bring herself to. Somehow saying it would make the possibility even more real in her mind and she just wasn’t ready for that. She needed to stay in denial just a little longer. If she were pregnant she had the rest of her term to deal with it.
Snuggling next to him, she hid her face in his chest so he would not see her eyes. He could always tell she was lying by her eyes. Then, “If something’s wrong, I’ll tell you.”


Several days passed and Buffy still had not gotten her period. Each day she eagerly anticipated its arrival and each day she was greatly disappointed. She was now more than three weeks late, closing in on a month. Her excuses and rationalizations for its delay were coming apart at the seams. And so was she. She had managed to get hold of a calendar and counted the days repeatedly, convinced there was some mistake. But each time she arrived at the same conclusion. She was late and getting later. She was so tense and anxious that she could hardly eat or sleep, her near obsessive-compulsive trips to the bathroom attracting more and more unwanted attention from Angel. She knew he was aware that something was desperately wrong. She could feel him watching her. Yes, her anxiety was making her somewhat paranoid as well but she knew Angel was paying close attention despite all attempts to appear indifferent. She knew he didn’t buy her lie. He was just waiting for the right time to catch her.

Then finally the day came marking a month since she was to get her period. She sat across from Angel on the balcony barely nibbling on the meal in front of her. She was a month late. She was devastated.
Sitting across from her Angel tried to engage her in conversation but her responses were terse and devoid of emotion. He had noticed the drastic change in her behavior and had tried on numerous occasions to get her to talk but she fought him relentlessly. She wasn’t eating properly and she wasn’t sleeping, her unnaturally pale skin and the dark circles under her eyes making her look gaunt. He had even insisted on taking her to a doctor but she nearly had a conniption. He was at a loss for what to do. He could only let her come to him when she was ready. He only hoped that she wouldn’t wait until it was too late. Frustrated, Angel decided to leave her alone for a while and went to the gym for a few hours.


At the Summers’ home, Giles, Willow, Spike, and Gunn sat around the large table in the library discussing the case.
“Where exactly does the investigation stand?” Giles opened.
“Officially, we’re following various leads and making progress.” Gunn answered.
“And unofficially?”
“Unofficially … the investigation has stalled. We’ve got intelligence suggesting that Rayne may be in several different places, which makes no sense whatsoever. The man can’t possibly be in Russia and Colombia at the same time.”
“So what are you thinking?”
“That he’s deliberately planting ‘evidence’ to throw us off his trail. He obviously knows how we work and is using that against us. We had a few promising leads but this entire thing is becoming a wild goose chase.”
“Hmm, Spike what about your sources?”
“Oz and Clem have ruffled a few feathers but no one’s spilling. And the information they do have is vague and inconsistent. No one has a bloody clue.”
“Any luck with his spies?” Willow piped in.
“I’ve been investigating Agents Meirs and Walker secretly since I wasn’t certain how far up this went but from what I’ve discovered I think we can risk launching an official investigation. But quietly, we cannot afford the press catching wind of it.”
“Have you approached your superiors?”
“In a manner of speaking, they know I have concerns about the integrity of the investigation.”
“Do you think they might know where Rayne is?”
“Honestly, no. From what we’ve seen of how Rayne works, they probably only know enough to incriminate themselves. But every little bit helps.”
“So when will you bring in your supervisors?”
“Later this week when I meet with them, we’ll map out a strategy and go from there.”


Several hours had passed and yet Buffy remained rooted in place on the balcony, staring unseeingly out over the scenery, seemingly stuck in the moment, her mind grappling with her uncertain future as the gravity of her predicament crashed down on her. But she couldn’t cry. She was just too numb. Her body felt foreign and heavy, distant, her skin too confining. She’d been strong through it all but this was too much. She simply couldn’t handle it. Having a baby was one thing but she knew Angel would use the child to keep her there; she’d never escape. Cursing the day she was born, she wished she had the strength to end it. As she sat watching the clouds drift by she saw a small flock of birds in the distance. How she wished she were one of them, able to escape, to be free, to go somewhere he could never find her, never reach her. Growing increasingly despondent, she just stared, blocking out the world, retreating to a safe warm place in her mind; somewhere familiar. Embracing it, she slipped farther and farther away, the escape giving her troubled mind peace. She needed peace. As the day wore on, she never noticed the menacing clouds moving in across the sky. She never felt the winds pick up or the rain begin to fall.


Some time later Angel and Lindsey approached the master suite while discussing Buffy’s unusual behavior. Angel was at his wit’s end but he was anxious to get back to her, especially since after leaving the gym he made an impromptu stop at his office to make a few calls and missed having lunch with her. Now it wasn’t particularly late in the afternoon but something about the way she looked that morning was really starting to bother him. He was going to try again to convince her to see a doctor.
Entering, Angel paused, momentarily surprised at how dark the room was. No lights were on, the room only slightly illuminated by the dim light from the stormy sky. Alarmed, he frantically moved through the room, flipping on lights as he went, dreading Buffy was hurt … or worse. With Lindsey following, he searched the entire room, calling her name, his panic increasing each moment until finally he found her, sitting on the balcony in the pouring rain. Pausing, Angel looked at her as he slowly approached, his brief relief at finding her quickly morphing into something unfamiliar and crippling. She was soaked to the bone but what chilled him was the blank expression on her face, the distant stare in her eyes. It was the most frightening thing he’d ever seen.
Suddenly Lindsey’s voice coming from behind him brought him back to the present, “What happened to her?”
Calling softly to her again, Angel slowly moved closer, not wanting to startle her. But she seemed completely unaware of his presence. When he lightly touched her arm, he felt how cold she was, she must have been out there for hours, cold, wet and obviously unwell. He had no idea if moving her in her state was wise but he wouldn’t let her stay out there a moment longer. Instantly snapping into motion, he gently lifted her out of the chair and carried her into the room, resting her in the armchair. Instructing Lindsey to get some towels from the bathroom, he held her to him, trying to warm her body with his. When Lindsey returned he wrapped her in them, carefully drying her off and rubbing her arms but she had yet to respond to the stimulation. Realizing it wasn’t working, he asked Lindsey to go to the kitchen and send up some tea and a hot water bottle, he needed some privacy. Taking the hint, Lindsey quickly left the room, allowing him a few moments. Once Lindsey left Angel spread the towels out on the bed and laid her on them. Quickly stripping her, he paused momentarily waiting for her to protest but it never came. She just lied there, limp and seemingly lifeless, as if she no longer cared. This was beyond worrying. Returning to his task, he removed the rest of her soaked clothes and dried her more thoroughly. Satisfied that she was at least dry, he grabbed a nearby blanket and wrapped her in it as he lied next to her, again using his warmth as he held her.

By the time Lindsey returned carrying a tray with the hot water bottle, a teapot, cups and some sugar, Angel had changed his wet clothes and gotten Buffy dressed in a pair of sweats, t-shirt and socks. He was now sitting on the bed with her wrapped in the blanket in his lap. Standing across from them, Lindsey noted Angel was murmuring softly to her but she still wasn’t responding. He had never seen Angel so shaken.
Resting down the tray he wrapped the already filled hot water bottle in a towel and handed it to Angel, who then rested it against Buffy’s abdomen, giving her additional warmth.
For several hours the two sat silently as Angel ministered to her, rocking her gently in his lap. Finally breaking the heavy silence, Lindsey asked, “Do you have any idea what brought this on?”
Only taking his eyes from her momentarily, “No … at least I don’t think so. She’s been acting weird for a while now, ever since she threw up she hasn’t been the same.”
“She threw up?”
“Yeah, a while back, maybe a week or two ago but of course she said she was fine.”
“Do you think this is related?”
“I have no idea, I don’t even know what this is …”
“Well it certainly doesn’t seem to be … physical. She doesn’t seem to be in pain, she’s just staring and unresponsive.”
“I never should have left her … I knew something was wrong but I never imagined … she needed me and I wasn’t here for her.”
“Are you sure that would have made a difference?” When Angel looked at him again, “You said it yourself, something has been wrong for a while but she refuses to tell you. Could you really have prevented her from retreating into herself?”
“Perhaps not but at least she wouldn’t have been sitting out there for God knows how long in the pouring rain.” Hearing the tone in Angel’s voice he decided to back off slightly, this was a delicate situation.
“Do you want to call a doctor?”
“I don’t know, I would but she was adamant about not seeing one, she’s scared of doctors. Allowing a stranger to examine her might traumatize her more, I won’t subject her to that … at least not unless I have to.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“For now, this. I’m going to stay with her, maybe by morning she’ll come out of it.”
“And if she doesn’t?” He pressed gently.
“Then I’ll get a doctor, but for now I think I should just let her be, give her some time.”
Although he seriously doubted Buffy would just recover on her own Lindsey decided to let it go. “Fine, perhaps that will work … do you need me to do anything?”
“Yes, I am expecting a phone call from my CFO tomorrow, would you take that call for me? Cancel my other meetings for the rest of this week, I’m not leaving her side until she’s herself again.”
“Sure.” As Lindsey stood he asked, “Would you like me to send up some food? You haven’t eaten for much of the day.”
Caressing Buffy’s hair, “Right now I really have no appetite …”
“Angel, you should eat something … you won’t be any good to her if you collapse from hunger and exhaustion.”
Sighing, Angel relented, “Fine, but something light and simple, maybe a bowl of soup or something.”
“I’ll send it right up.”
As Lindsey walked to the door, “Linds … thanks.”


For the rest of the night Angel remained at Buffy’s side. After managing to eat some of the soup, he covered them, snuggling as close as he could get. Carefully touching her, he knew she was in there … somewhere. Holding her, he tried to ignore the tightening in his gut, the haunting feeling creeping up his spine that he had succeeded in doing what he originally intended … to destroy her. He broke her. Remembering all that he had done to her, he recalled the bright, happy young lady he surreptitiously watched from his car. He had taken her and killed her, leaving little more than a shadow of her former self … just as Ethan was. He succeeded; he won. But it was a hollow victory indeed, a cruel irony as he watched the woman he loved slowly disappear from his grasp. He did this to her.
Moments before drifting to sleep he lightly caressed her hair, whispering, “Please come back to me.”

Sunlight crept through the balcony doors, inching its way to the couple lying in bed. Angel was partly awake, his body exhausted from lack of sleep and worry. Throughout the night he held her, sleeping only for brief periods before suddenly waking to find her unchanged. He had hoped that being next to her would bring her round but still, nothing. He had no idea what to do, what brought this on. Obviously there was more to her upset stomach than she had let on. Should he get her a doctor? He wasn’t often in Jamaica and didn’t keep a physician on hand there, he’d have to ask Quentin for the names of a few reputable physicians who were discreet and didn’t ask too many questions. He had to do something for her.
Sitting up, Angel was about to leave the bed when he heard a soft sigh. Turning back, he looked at her unsure whether she actually made a noise or if he was just imagining it. After waiting a moment, he heard it again, the softest little sigh but it definitely came from her. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to communicate or not but he immediately lied down, wrapping his arms around her again as he softly called her name, gently coaxing her out of her unresponsive state. For several long moments she didn’t respond to his voice and he began to think she was withdrawing again but eventually she looked at him, really looked at him and he knew she was back, albeit still quite distraught. Not wanting to overwhelm her, he held back the millions of questions he wanted to ask and simply smiled at her as he lightly caressed her hair. There was no rush; there’d be time for questions later. Instead, he held her closely and when she burrowed into his embrace, finally closed his eyes in relief. Now he could sleep.

For most of the day Buffy and Angel stayed in bed resting but eventually they got up, showered and dressed. She still hadn’t said anything to shed light on her unusual behavior and Angel was reluctant to press her. But he was growing increasingly concerned, especially after the previous night. He was not going to lose her. That evening as they sat having an early dinner he watched as she again, shifted her dinner around the plate, barely nibbling a mouthful throughout the entire meal. He had been quiet long enough.
“Buffy, I hate to do this but you are forcing my hand. If you insist on keeping your secrets then fine, I can’t force you to tell me but if you don’t start eating and sleeping normally again then I will take you to a doctor.”
“No Angel, don’t … I hate doctors.”
“Sorry my love but this is an ultimatum, whether you want to tell me or not, either you start dealing with whatever is bothering you or I will.”
And with that he stood and called down to the staff quarters, requesting someone to ask Lindsey to come to the master suite.

By the time Lindsey arrived Buffy was still at the balcony table trying to eat more than a mouthful. After speaking with Angel briefly, he agreed to keep an eye on her while Angel met with Quentin. He wanted to at least make some arrangements to get medical attention for Buffy, even if in the end he decided against it. Kissing her goodbye, Angel left for his office after welcoming her to join him if she felt up to it.

Some time later Buffy emerged from the balcony after managing to work through most of her dinner. Sitting across from Lindsey, she turned on the television and tried to distract herself. She dreaded what would happen if Angel made her see a doctor.
“Is he going to make me go?” She asked unable to ignore her concerns any longer.
“I’m not sure, I think he’s just getting some information.”
“I don’t want to see a doctor.”
“Well Buffy you’re clearly not well and if you can’t recover on your own then he will get help for you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“You could have fooled me last night.”
“Well why didn’t he get help for me then?”
“Because he didn’t want to force you to let someone examine you … but if it happens again, he won’t hesitate.”
“Lindsey, can’t you just explain to him that I’m ok, that I won’t flip out again?”
”I probably could but I’m not sure that’s true.”
“What does he want from me? What do I have to do to convince him that I’m fine?”
“For starters you could begin by acting normal again, like eating and sleeping. Then if you really want to impress him, tell him what’s wrong, what’s got you in this condition.”
“Fine, I’ll eat and sleep like a good little girl but I can’t tell him, I just can’t … not yet.”
“Why not?” When she looked away he moved closer, pressing her “Why not Buffy? From what I understand you and Angel have gotten rather close lately, you’re sharing things. You know how he feels about you, why wouldn’t you?”
“Because I’m scared.” She whispered.
“Scared?” He repeated, “Angel isn’t going to be angry with you, I’m sure it’s not your fault.”
“That’s definitely true.” She muttered to herself.
Catching her mumbled response, Lindsey looked at her suspiciously and when she obviously realized he had heard her, she looked away nervously, refusing to meet his eyes.
Standing, “Buffy, are you pregnant?” When she refused to answer or look at him again, he sat next to her, turning her to him, “Buffy, are you pregnant?”
When she still refused to answer he stood in frustration and headed for the door.
Realizing what he was about to do, she jumped from her seat and grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “Lindsey, please don’t tell him … I’ll talk to you, I’ll tell you everything, just please … don’t.”
Pausing, the plea in her voice made him soften. She was clearly distraught and needed someone to talk to. She needed a confidante and he had promised Angel he would help her. Taking a deep breath he walked back into the room with her and closed the door. Then sitting, he waited patiently for her story.

When she was done he sat across from her pondering the situation. “So you’re not sure you’re pregnant, only that you’re late.”
“Very late. And add that to everything else, the tiredness, the moodiness, I really think I am.”
“But you could just be late, this could simply be stress making you late.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, I mean, what are the chances? You and Angel have been using contraception right?”
When she didn’t answer he looked at her alarmed, “Right?”
“No.”
“NO? What do you mean no? Angel has more than an adequate supply of condoms.”
“Now he does … and maybe he did before too but he never used them with me.”
Standing, “WHAT?”
“I take it you didn’t know, well, yes, the entire time we were in California, Angel never so much as mentioned the word protection.”
“Wait, are you telling me that for nearly a week Angel was having close to nonstop sex with you and he NEVER wore a condom?”
The tears welling in her eyes were answer enough.
Shaking his head in disbelief, “I have to talk to him Buffy, you could very well be pregnant.”
When she started to cry he sat next to her, trying to comfort her, “Buffy, we need to know if you are or not and get you checked out. If you aren’t then you have nothing to worry about and we can put this whole thing behind us. But if you are then we have to think of you and the baby. What if there’s a problem? What if there are complications? We want to make sure that you and any future Raynes are healthy. This isn’t a punishment.”
“But …”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, just let me handle it.”
Uncertain but also relieved for his help, she nodded, “Ok.”
“Ok. And first things first, I need to tell Angel.”


Quentin sat across from Angel discussing Buffy’s unusual behavior and the doctors best suited to her situation. After leaving Buffy, Angel had invited Quentin over since he didn’t want to get into it over the phone and he also didn’t want to be too far away from her should she need him. He was so concerned that he had even left his office door ajar so she would feel free to enter should she come down from their room.
“So where is she now?”
“Upstairs with Lindsey.”
“With Lindsey?”
“Yes with Lindsey, I don’t want to leave her alone so soon.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, leaving them alone together … I mean if she’s as vulnerable as you say.”
“Quentin, you could never be more wrong about Lindsey … he would never do something like that.”
“Never say never my boy.”
“Look just stop, I know you don’t like him but he’s my right arm in this operation, I know I can trust him.”
“And that is exactly my point, you trust him too much.”
“Quentin …”
“Listen to me Angelus, I’ve been around a long time and I’ve survived enough betrayals to know … why do you think I carry my revolver everywhere I go, friend or foe, those words are interchangeable … take my word on this.”
“Fine but first tell me something, what besides being Holtz’s son irks you so about him?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“Quentin, he’s my cousin, he would never hurt me.”
“And Holtz was Ethan’s brother and that didn’t stop him.”
“Holtz was an animal.”
“Lindsey is his son. And like his father, should he ever hurt you I will see to it that he never draws breath again.”
“Quentin, I appreciate your loyalty and protection but Lindsey is not a threat to me … but if he ever became one, I will handle it. I wouldn’t ask you to do that for me again.”
“You disappoint me Angelus, would you actually deny me the pleasure of disposing of the son as well?”
At Angel’s hard look Quentin amended, “Fine, fine, my boy, if you insist then Lindsey is yours.”

Lindsey stood in shock just outside the office in the foyer. He could hardly believe his ears. He had come down to tell Angel of Buffy’s possible pregnancy, not to mention to blast him for being so reckless with her. But alas, he was the one in for a cruel surprise. Angel had Travers kill Holtz? It didn’t make sense. His mind suddenly muddled, he wasn’t sure what he knew from what he didn’t. Holtz died of a heart attack; a sudden massive heart attack. Didn’t he? But they killed him; they admitted it. They had something to do with it. Angel had something to do with it. And all these years he lied to him, had him running around like a lackey, doing all his dirty work all the while playing him for a fool. Angel knew how much he regretted not seeing Holtz at the end, how he wished he had some closure on that relationship yet he never said a word, his apologies and sympathies nothing but a mockery. As he stood staring up at the portrait of he and Angel, he remembered the little boys they once were. But they were no longer those little boys, he no longer knew who either of them was. All he could see was Angel’s young face, the face he trusted, the face he sacrificed everything for … the face that betrayed him. Slipping out quietly, he headed back upstairs to Buffy. He needed time to think.

tbc ...