Cause and Effect

**********
Chapter Twenty Seven
**********


"You're no better than *Angelus*," Dawn screamed.

**Dawn's here!?** Angel winced, racing toward the voices.

"Why you *impudent* little girl!" a male's voice retorted angrily. The 'Doctor', Angel assumed.

"She's right," Willow said coldly. "He tortured your family; you tortured his. I don't see the difference."

Angel skid to a stop as he ran through hole in the blasted apart wall. What he saw froze him in his tracks.

Three men were cornered by the three Scoobies, Willow's hair dancing around her as if the wind were blowing through it. Tara's hand was out, apparently magically holding one man against the wall. Willow faced another; he was bruised and scratched, bleeding from several of the cuts. A third man, on the ground, his nose bloodied, held his arm up defensively as Dawn stood over him.

The room itself was a shambles, tables overturned, metal instruments strewn all over the floor -- some of which he recognized instantly. His stomach flipped as he realized that *this* was where they'd tortured Spike. It had to be.

"He was a vampire, so what!" the man Willow faced sneered.

Angel growled, receiving the *instant* attention of all three men.

"Oh, God!" Dawn's opponent groaned.

"Angelus!" hissed Willow's.

The memory of meeting this man flashed through Angel's mind, the realization that *he* -- what he'd done as Angelus -- was responsible for *all* of this hitting him like a sucker punch to the solar plexus.

"We should let these other two go," Tara said softly. "It's *him* we came here for," she continued, pointing at Dr. Weisenburg.

Willow started to nod.

"Yes, please," pleaded the man on the floor. "I swear, I was just following orders."

Willow froze, and Angel closed his eyes, groaning. If the idiot had just stayed quiet, he might have made it out. That was, of course, assuming he got past Spike and Xander -- which Angel seriously doubted. Now, though, he'd be put through the wringer twice. Somehow, he still couldn't feel sorry for the idiot -- think him stupid beyond belief, yes; feel sorry for him, no.

With a few muttered words from Willow, followed by a quick wave of her hand, Dr. Weisenburg went flying. He crashed into the far wall, and slid down to the floor unconscious.

Willow turned slowly, pivoting as if floating. It was the first time Angel got a look at her eyes, and what he saw dropped his jaw. **Her eyes are black! *All* black!**

"What did you say?" Willow asked, her voice quiet, sounding calm.

Angel knew better. The third man in the room gasped, and Angel almost laughed. The guy knew better, too.

Wide, frightened eyes looked up at the red-headed witch. "I s-said, I was just doing what they told me to."

"And that's supposed to make it all better?" Dawn screeched, slamming downward with her fist. New blood spurted in the wake of her blow.

Willow stepped forward slowly, squatting down in front of the bleeding man. "You don't know my name, but you 'worked' for *him*. Do you have *any* clue how absolutely insulting that was?"

He frantically shook his head. "I'm sorry?" he said hesitantly.

Angel snorted. Like *that* was going to do any good.

//Too late for him,// Angelus cackled from within. //The witch is pissed!//

Even as he struggled to ignore that baser part of himself, he couldn't help but admit the thought was the truth. The big question, was could he stop her from doing something she'd regret after she calmed down? He hoped he didn't have to find out. All the while, the demon within raged, telling him he was six kinds of fool for even *considering* trying to get in her way. The power coming off Willow was incredible, and he wondered just when it was that she'd grown this powerful.

"SORRY?" Willow hissed, finally showing her anger. "Sorry?" she asked again, shaking her head. "That lame reason was used to try and 'excuse' the horrifying deaths of millions! And *you* say you're 'sorry'. Well, sorry doesn't cut it buster!"

"Willow," Spike growled, and Dawn's head whipped around, the girl dashing instantly toward the blond vampire.

Willow turned just enough to see Spike, and the relief that Angel saw in her face was both surprising and gratifying.

"He's *mine*," Spike continued, flinching as he caught Dawn in his arms. He released her immediately.

"Spike! You're all right! Xander said you wouldn't want us to see you until you got better!" She frowned. "You don't look so bad," she said.

Spike's look was shuttered, and Angel stepped forward immediately, gently pulling the girl away from the younger vampire.

Dawn resisted for a moment, but then seemed to take a good look at her friend. After that, it was easy to move her out of the way.

"Why?" Willow asked.

"NO! Please!"

Willow grinned, the expression not reaching her eyes.

Angel shuddered, he *never* wanted to see that look on Willow's face ever again. It was something he would expect to see on the face of evil, not on the young woman who'd befriended Buffy 6 years ago. Willow was sweet, and kind, and gentle, not . . . malevolent.

"That's reason enough to let him have you," she said, stepping back.

Spike strode forward, the man he was heading toward cringing back against the wall, shaking his head back and forth in mute horror.

"The tables are turned now," he said quietly, "aren't they . . . Pretty Boy."

Angel frowned at the . . . name, taking a second hard look at the man on the floor. He couldn't see why Spike would call-- **Oh! Oh shit!**

He shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware of the *teenage* girl at his side. He *really* didn't think this was the time or place for her to be. He considered telling her to go wait with Xander, but one look at the stubborn, angry, *horrified* expression on her face, told him it was useless, as well as too late. She'd already figured it out.

Dawn let out a strangled half-sound, the back of her hand pressed shakily to her mouth. She blanched, swaying, and Angel quickly grabbed hold of her arm to keep her from falling. She muttered a quick thank you, her wide-eyed attention never straying from the scene unfolding in front of them.

A gasp from Tara, told him she'd figured it out as well. He didn't know what this would bring, but he hoped to *hell* that everyone would just keep their mouths shut. If they didn't, things could get very messy, very, very quickly. He just wondered if Spike realized just how much he'd given away with those last two words. Angel was pretty sure he didn't. It wasn't exactly something Spike would want to become common knowledge.

'Pretty Boy' whimpered, cringing as far away from Spike as he could.

"I'd say, it's time for some payback."

"You can't!" Pretty Boy shouted suddenly.

Spike snorted. "I can't? And just *why* is that? YOU certainly seemed to have no problem with it. Why should I?"

"I'm *human*," Pretty Boy sneered, his confidence suddenly coming back full force.

Incredulous, Angel wondered how the idiot could *possibly* have forgotten everyone *else* here.

Spike *laughed*, the sound sending chills down Angel's spine. It was absolutely void of humor, and filled with shades of hysteria.

Angel stared intently at the younger vampire, not liking the images the sound provoked. To him, it reminded him too much of Drusilla, and he seriously wondered just how close to the edge Spike was. He heard Xander move up to the ragged opening, hovering on just the other side, and he wondered just how much of what happened here Xander had heard.

"You can't hurt humans!" Pretty Boy continued, eyeing Spike warily, obviously liking vampire's laugh even less than he did.

"And?" Spike asked in typical Sunnydale youth fashion. "Who said payback had to 'hurt?"

"Say what?"

Spike squatted down in front of the man, grabbing hold of his jaw to force direct eye to eye contact. "It wouldn't have to hurt, to be . . . humiliating, now would it?" Spike asked conversationally.

Pretty Boy's eyes widened with nearly comic horror.

"I'm sure I could even go so far as to make sure you--" Spike paused, reaching out with his free hand to touch the man's lips, "--*enjoyed* it even."

Frantically shaking his head, murmuring 'no' over and over again, Pretty Boy jerked sideways, twisting out of Spike's grasp and away from his touch.

Spike let him go.

"Oh, goddess," Tara whispered.

Willow glanced at her briefly, eyes rounded saucers, before immediately returning her attention to Spike.

"Spike," Tara whispered quietly. "Don't do it."

Silence met her request. No one moved -- except Pretty Boy, who was still backing away, working himself into a corner.

"She's right," Willow said finally. "Don't lower yourself to his level, Spike."

Dawn immediately piped up after Willow. "You're better than he is, Spike."

Spike stood slowly, turning a shocked expression on each of the women in turn.

Angel watched as the realization hit Spike that they all knew *exactly* what this had been about, and he waited for the fireworks. He could have picked his jaw up off the floor when Spike suddenly grinned. It was the cocky grin of old, the one he'd learned to hate decades ago, and had recently thought had disappeared for good.

"Didn't plan to," he said brightly. "But it sure was fun making *him* think so!"

Dawn giggled.

Willow and Tara let out twin sighs of relief, both of them smiling faintly.

" 'Sides, wouldn't want to touch the filthy bugger."

"Oh, *I'll* touch him," Dawn snapped, darting forward before Angel could think to stop her.

He watched it happen, almost in slow motion. Spike dove toward her, miscalculating his aim and landing on the floor behind her.

"I hope your *grandchildren* feel this," she screamed, letting loose a kick that struck right between his legs.

He screamed, doubling over, immediately retching, choking on the acidic fluid as he tried to keep screaming.

Angel winced. Much as he hated Pretty Boy, that had hurt *him*!

Spike scrambled to his feet, beating Angel to Dawn by a fraction of a second. He pulled her back even as she readied another kick. "Don't, Niblet."

"Why not?" she asked petulantly, struggling ineffectively against his hold.

"Because I asked," Spike replied quietly.

Dawn stilled instantly, frowning back at Spike. "Oh! That is *so* not fair!" she exclaimed.

Spike chuckled, turning Dawn toward Angel and giving her a gentle shove. He turned back toward Pretty Boy as soon as she started moving, but not before Angel saw the strain Spike was so desperately trying to cover up.

Closing the remaining distance between elf elf and Pretty Boy, Spike reached out and almost gently grabbed hold of the man's head. "Good-bye," he said softly, twisting his hands sharply as the last syllable of his words died away.

The cracking sound of bones snapping coincided with Spike's scream of pain. He clutched he head, stumbling backward and falling to his knees.

Three shouts of 'SPIKE' reverberated through the room, Willow, Tara, and Dawn all darting forward.

"And just *where* do you think *you're* going?" Xander asked.

Angel stiffened and whipped around, glaring at man number three, whom Xander was now holding in an iron grip. He'd been so caught up in what Dawn and Spike had been doing, he'd completely missed this one's escape attempt.

"I swear, I had nothing to do with what happened to your friend," the man said calmly.

"I'll just bet you knew, though," Xander said coldly before anyone else could comment.

The man opened his mouth to reply, but Xander cut him off with a hissed whisper.

"Remember, vampires. Great sense of smell. Can't lie to 'em. They'll *know*."

Angel almost grinned as he watched the man visibly wilt, his answer plainly written in the despair of his expression. While Xander might not have been *entirely* accurate, his ruse *had* been effective.

"Thought so," Xander crowed, spinning him around and pinning him against the wall with his left hand. Fisting his right, he struck the man in the gut, letting go at the same time.

The man fell, gasping, and holding his arms across his stomach.

Xander kicked, the toe of his boot striking across the man's chin, sending him sprawling, unconscious on the floor.

"There," he said firmly, glancing up. "What?" he asked sheepishly when he found everyone staring at him in utter shock. He locked gazes with Spike, whose expression was morphing to one of wonder. Xander grinned crookedly, and shrugged. "Couldn't let him get away scott free," he explained, "whether he actually * an* anything or not."

A soft moan from across the room drew everyone's immediate attention.

Spike froze, swallowing visibly.

Angel doubted anyone else could see it, but Spike was shaking as he turned. It was subtle, but it was there. It seemed Angel had been right. This last man *was* the one Spike called 'Doctor'.