Boats Against the Current

Boats Against the Current (Chapter Eight)

“It’s okay. I trust you.”

With those words, he’d sent Willow off to help Oz get back into classes at the university and maybe do some snooping around to see if she could find out anything about Adam or the Initiative.

And it was true, he did trust her. He knew it would be good for her to talk to her ex, to establish a friendship with him again. He wasn’t the slightest bit worried that she’d change her mind, or that Oz would make some sort of pass at her, and he was quite convinced Oz meant Willow no harm and therefore was not the man warned of in Cordelia’s vision. So why, then, was Angel as nervous as a cat? He hadn’t been able to sit still, or stay seated at all, for at least an hour. Even Spike was on edge, his affected cool entirely absent as he shot glances at the clock nearly every other minute. Maybe it was because it was getting on into the late afternoon. Where the devil were they?

“Would you two quit pacing?” Cordelia groused as she sat at the kitchen table and painted her nails. “I’m tired of watching you guys act like overprotective mothers. Willow’s with Oz…in broad daylight. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Those last words were barely spoken when Cordelia slid off her chair in obvious agony, knocking over her bottle of nail polish which poured a ribbon of pink onto the table and down onto her blouse. Angel could care less. All he cared about was what Cordelia was seeing this time. He had a horrible feeling it pertained to Willow.

That suspicion was easily confirmed by the tears in Cordelia’s eyes when she finally came out of her trance. “Oh my God.”

“What, you stupid bint?” Spike spat out.

“It’s Willow…I…I kind of got the vision wrong the first time.”

“You what?” Two voices yelled as one, but Spike backed off in deference to Angel’s stronger claim on a right to anger.

“I’m sorry, okay? The pain and the general weirdness make these visions a little unclear. If you want to get mad at anyone, yell at the stupid Powers That Be!” She was crying now and it was obvious she was going to be useless unless Angel calmed her down.

“Cordelia,” he said, his voice now soft and consoling, “I apologize. Just tell me what you saw this time.”

She pulled herself back up into her chair, not even noticing the nail polish stains yet. This was bad; it had to be. Angel nearly trembled as he waited for her to speak. “She isn’t in danger from the guy in the vision…she’s in danger because of the guy in the vision.”

There was a roaring in Angel’s ears and no one spoke. The import of Cordelia’s words was felt like a hammer blow. Willow was out there…in daylight where Angel couldn’t get to her…and she might be in terrible danger. The hell with might be…she was in terrible danger. His senses didn’t lie.

Why did he have to pick today to be broad-minded and understanding? Why hadn’t he acted like the demon he was and forbade Willow from going anywhere with a man who wasn’t him?

The sound of the front door bursting open roused him, and he and Spike and Cordelia all ran into the living room at once. There were visitors, and that didn’t help with Angel’s tension level at all.

“Slayer,” Spike said, obviously not caring that she wasn’t alone, “what brings you here?”

Buffy frowned, but didn’t seem angry at Spike’s use of her job title in the presence of a stranger. Who was the blonde standing beside her anyway? And how quickly could he get her to leave so they could ask Buffy about Willow?

“Guys, this is Tara.”

“We’ve met,” Spike answered. Now that he knew her name, Angel remembered hearing about her. She was the one who had a crush on Willow. Now he was terrified. This girl’s presence here must mean something had already happened.

“Willow’s i-in danger,” Tara stuttered.

“We kind of knew that already,” Cordelia replied in a supercilious tone, anxiety robbing her of what precious little tact she possessed.

“Cordelia,” Buffy growled, “this is serious, okay. Willow and Oz were taken by the Initiative.”

Spike was paler now than Angel had ever seen him, but that was nothing compared to Angel’s reaction. His lover, his mate was in the hands of sadists so cruel they outshone Angelus. Only the knowledge of approaching twilight kept him sane. It did not, however, keep his human mask in place. He was ridged and fanged for a moment before regaining control and he couldn’t care less what effect that had on the girl who was now huddled behind Buffy.

“How the hell did this happen?” he growled.

“T-they said s-something about a wolf a-and when Willow tried to s-stop them from taking her friend, they-they took her, too,” Tara said softly, her voice choked with fear.

“You saw this then?” Spike asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly. Angel couldn’t look at him. He’d see hard knowledge of what might be happening to Willow in his eyes and he couldn’t bear it.

Tara nodded.

“How did you know to tell Buffy?” Cordelia asked, ever suspicious.

“I’ve-I’ve seen them together a-a lot.”

“I’m guessing the vampire thing isn’t news to you either, since you haven’t run. Why is that?”

“’Cause she’s a witch,” Spike said softly, seemingly trying to calm the girl’s fears. “Willow told me she met you in that Wicca group. Said you were the only one who believed in magic.”

Angel growled, already sick of this conversation. They knew what they needed to know. The Initiative had Willow. They had to get her out. Darkness would be falling in just a few minutes and then…

Tara was cowering again. “It’s okay. He has a soul.” Buffy tried to soothe the girl, all the while giving Angel looks filled with uncomfortable curiosity – curiosity about which Angel could not have cared less.

“I-I better go,” Tara said quietly.

Buffy ushered her to the door. “Thanks,” she said to the departing girl, who smiled nervously before the door closed behind her and she made her way back to wherever it was she came from…the university dormitories most likely.

Angel was glad she was gone. He’d rather not discuss any of this further in front of people he didn’t know. There was a question that he wanted to ask…and to which he’d better not get the answer he feared most. “How did they know about Oz?”

Now it was Buffy’s turn to look terrified and Angel knew his suspicions had been right. “I…I kind of told Riley.”

Angel couldn’t speak. He’d known she was going to say that, but somehow it made him angrier than he’d believed possible to hear the words. Bitch! How in the hell could she have been so mind-numbingly thoughtless and stupid? If Willow did not come out of this unharmed, Buffy was going to wish she’d fallen into Angelus’s hands.

“What are we waiting for?” Angel was with Spike on that, but they did have to wait for night to descend. Thank all that was holy and not for the fact that it wouldn’t be long.

Just at that moment, Xander and Anya burst in…followed by Riley. In seconds, Angel had him by the throat; once again, he was in game face. It wasn’t the soul that bastard was dealing with now. “What in the hell have you done with Willow?”

Riley gasped and choked as Angel’s grip tightened. The demon in him rejoiced at the sight of bulging eyeballs and the heady aroma of fear and desperation. Xander, however, just had to cut in. “Angel, stop. He’s trying to help, okay?”

The boy was as dumb as a bag of rocks if he believed that, but Angel supposed there was something to be gained from letting the bastard live long enough to at least tell them how to get into the Initiative compound.

“Fine.” He let go of Riley’s throat and allowed his human face to slide back over his true features. “Talk.”

“I had nothing to do with it. But I’ve seen them there. They’re both still alive,” Riley gasped out. His hand massaged his throat. Finger-shaped marks remained and Angel fought a smile. A demon always relished the sight of its own mark.

“Can you get us in?” Buffy asked. Her eyes were shadowed. Seems she didn’t entirely trust her shiny toy soldier.

“Yes.” He stopped for a moment and looked around. “We’ll go in the back way. We can’t use the Lowell House elevator. They know I’ve gone rogue.”

“Fine, you, me, and Xander will head for the back entrance.” Buffy headed for the door. He couldn’t believe her nerve.

“I’m going with you.”

“Angel, you can’t. It’s too dangerous.” He couldn’t bear it. The soft, longing look nearly brought his game face back. How could she deny Willow his aid for the sake of a love that died long ago?

“She’s a member of my team, Buffy. I am not going to stand by and do nothing while…” He couldn’t finish the thought.

“I’m going, too,” Spike said softly. “There’s no way in hell I’m trusting this Initiative bastard to rescue Red, and if things go south, we can do a trade. ‘M sure they’d love to get their hands on Hostile 17 again.”

“Spike,” Angel warned.

“This isn’t up to you, Peaches. She’s my friend, best I’ve ever had. I know what they do in there. It’s not happening to her…not while I’m still undead.”

Angel nodded. Then, to the surprise of everyone, the two of them most of all, he grabbed Spike and pulled him close. The embrace was brief, but meaningful. They were turning a corner now, and he knew that when this was over, things would be different.

Buffy looked as if she were comforted somehow and Angel realized it was because she believed Spike was the one in love with Willow. Maybe that had been part of the reason for Spike’s outburst and if so, Angel was even more grateful. They needed Buffy on their side for the moment and she would be too caught up in her own angst if she tumbled to the truth right now to be of any use at all.

“Can any of you guys hack into the city electrical system?” she asked suddenly. “I’m thinking it might be helpful if you could power down the Initiative.”

Anya and Cordelia both raised their hands. Anya was glaring at Cordelia who, thankfully, was actually keeping her eye on the ball and not obsessing over Xander Harris. “Willow’s taught me a whole bunch of stuff,” Cordelia stated proudly.

“Great. Cordelia, you do that.” Cordelia raced upstairs to grab her laptop.

Anya was pouting, obviously upset at being pushed aside in favour of her erstwhile rival. “I don’t see what the point is. I’m sure they’ve both been eviscerated by now.”

Spike shot a glance at Angel and vamped. It was an obvious signal for him to keep his cool, despite the struggle that entailed.

“Shut your gob or I’ll test this chip out and see if it works on spayed vengeance demons.”

“I think now would be a good moment for quiet time, An,” Xander said with more than a hint of anger. The bloom was obviously off the rose. Anya looked lost as she sat down on the sofa. Angel could scarcely believe that now, after all this time, she finally seemed to realize that her crass ways might not be charming.

“Let’s go,” Riley said. “The sooner we get to them, the better.”

Angel could not have agreed more. He and Spike grabbed their coats, along with weapons for all, and, with Buffy and Xander and Riley, were out the door in a trice.

“Be careful, Xander,” Anya called out after them.

“Bring Willow home safe,” Cordelia yelled.

“And Oz,” Anya added, obviously trying a bit of one-upmanship. It didn’t matter. No one cared what was being said by anyone or about petty romantic rivalries, at least Angel and Spike didn’t care and Angel didn’t give a damn about anyone else. All he could think of was rescuing Willow.

*****

The forest was dark and deserted. Angel kept his senses keenly tuned, on guard for a trap. He wouldn’t put it past Riley to have set them all up to be captured.

He hadn’t said a word since they left the house, not even allowing himself to grumble when they stopped to pick up two lab coats for Xander and Buffy to use as disguises. There was too much tension and anger in him to trust himself to speak. In fact, he’d been so anxious that he was glad he hadn’t offered the use of Willow’s car; the walk had quieted him and made him steady enough to do battle.

“By the way,” he asked, now that he was calm enough for speech, “how did they know about Oz?” He knew Buffy had told her soldier boy, but how the knowledge got from him to the others was something he wanted to know.

“We were overheard, I guess. Buffy and I were talking in the cemetery last night and…”

“And hey, no chance of anyone like, say, a member of an evil government death squad lurking around there, now is there.” It was now official – Angel liked Xander.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Defensiveness made Buffy’s voice high and shrill and Angel wished she’d lower her tone. What part of ‘stealth mission’ was so difficult for her to grasp? Sometimes it was hard to believe she was the best Slayer who ever lived.

“We’ll rip the Slayer’s intestines out when this is over, Xander. Right now, we have Willow to save.” Xander didn’t offer a word in argument. It seemed like Anya wasn’t the only one whose light was dimming in Xander’s eyes. Would wonders never cease?

“And Oz,” Riley added.

“Sure thing…if there’s enough time.” Spike could have cared less about the werewolf and, while Angel had a somewhat higher regard for the boy, he too would leave him behind if need be.

“And here we are,” Riley announced, heading for a metal door partially hidden by brush. He opened a panel and punched in a code, then pulled the door open. “We need to get to Colonel McNamara. He can take us to Willow and Oz.”

“Go in first,” Angel said. He still didn’t trust the commando.

“Right,” Riley grumbled, but he obeyed. As soon as it seemed clear, they were all in.

Just being in the building revived the panic within Angel. His love was here…and what might have happened to her almost made him retch. He could feel that she was alive, but a claim wasn’t good for much more than that, though he figured severe pain might register as well and he was thankful he couldn’t sense anything of that kind.

“Where’s the Colonel?” Angel asked. At that precise moment, the lights went off. Bless Cordelia – she really had paid attention to all of Willow’s tutorials.

A few turns down this hall and that and they reached their destination: Colonel McNamara’s quarters. Buffy pointed her crossbow at the man just as he tried to get out of bed.

“Hey,” she said as she stopped him from grabbing a weapon of his own, “you know who I am?”

“Yeah.” The man tried hard to sound calm, but Angel smirked as he smelled the fear rolling off of him in thick, heavy waves.

“Then you know I’m pretty good with this thing. Take us to them.”

The man ignored her for a moment, his eyes seeking out and finding Riley’s form in the near-darkness. “You’ll be court-martialed for this, Finn.”

“Yeah. Sure thing. But right now, you’re taking us to Willow and Oz, so get dressed.”

The Colonel dressed quickly; he wasn’t stupid enough to try any delaying tactics. “You know you’re not going to get away with this, right?”

There was no need to reply to a predictable bit of puffery like that, so Angel didn’t bother. Instead, he grabbed one arm and Buffy grabbed the other. They pointed their weapons at the Colonel’s head as he led them to where Willow and Oz were being held.

The sight that greeted him when they arrived made the borrowed blood in his veins turn to ice. Willow was huddled in one corner of a glass paneled cell, naked and crying…Angel couldn’t contain himself. He vamped.

At that moment, the room filled with soldiers. “One wrong move and your leader is lunch,” Angel growled, fangs poised at the Colonel’s neck. He wanted to rip the man’s throat out anyway. If Willow had been violated, not one Initiative soldier would live

“Get them out,” Buffy said, as gun after gun was lowered in surrender.

Now Angel noticed that Willow wasn’t alone in the cell. At the other end, Oz was huddled in a ball, equally unclothed and equally miserable.

One of the soldiers grudgingly opened the door. “Xander,” Angel ordered, “give her your coat.” The boy obeyed with alacrity, tossing his white lab coat over Willow, who donned it as hastily and modestly as she could. One of the soldiers leered as he watched and Angel growled a warning. He made a note of the man’s face and scent…later, he’d exact revenge.

Buffy tossed her own coat to Xander, who threw it to Oz. What had been a bit oversized on Buffy covered the werewolf well enough.

Seconds later, Willow ran out of the cell. With a nod from Angel, Spike and Buffy grabbed the Colonel and pointed their weapons at his head. Willow, meanwhile, ran straight into Angel’s arms.

He held her tight, his senses probing for any sign that she’d been hurt in any way. Luckily, he couldn’t smell any evidence of rape, but the fact that she’d been stripped made his blood boil. It was obvious it had shamed her and the demon within him saw it as a challenge to his claim.

Oz was out now as well and, with weapons still trained on the Colonel, they made their way to the elevator. Angel’s arm remained around Willow, who had not stopped trembling, though her tears were dry. He could smell the fear and humiliation on her and it made him ill. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m here,” he murmured softly to her as they traveled up to safety.

“Are you okay, Will?” Xander asked. “What the hell did you people do to her” That last might have been addressed to the Colonel, but it could also have been meant for Riley. Xander’s eyes never left Willow.

“I think we should talk about this later,” Oz said, his voice shaking slightly. Angel shot him a glance of silent thanks. There was no need to share the depth of damage caused with the authors of it.

“Let’s go,” Buffy said as the elevator reached its destination. All but Buffy and Riley – and the Colonel, of course.

“We’ll wait for two minutes, if they’re not out, we leave anyway,” Angel said. No one argued, though Willow seemed to be of a different mind.

“Sod the Slayer. I say we get some explosives and bomb this whole bloody place!” Spike kicked a tree for emphasis, his face flickering to demon and back.

That actually sounded like a fine idea to Angel, but before he could express approval, Buffy and Riley arrived. “We’d better split up,” Riley said. “They’ll be looking for us.”

“Fine.” Angel was more than willing to take the commando’s advice on that point. “We’ll find a place to lay low. You and Buffy do the same.”

“Angel…”

“We’ll talk later, Buffy.”

With that, he hustled his group away. He already knew where they were going. With the fact that his demon had come so much to the fore tonight, he was suddenly homesick for the mansion.

*****

It didn’t take them long; Xander and Willow might be human, but they were used to making haste and they did, fueled in no small part by Willow’s continued embarrassment at wearing nothing but a lab coat. Oz didn’t seem to feel too much better about it all. Both of them were very subdued.

Spike was muttering to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists, obviously furious over Willow’s capture and the condition she was in now. Angel himself was numb. He had shut down, knowing that if he were to give in…to feel…he would have gone back and killed Riley, every soldier they’d encountered, maybe even Buffy. He didn’t think he could be rational if he allowed himself the smallest emotion.

The mansion was dark and cold, but it was safe, and the chill as well as the absence of light were easily remedied. His ownership and reputation seemed to have kept it vacant and there was no way the Initiative would track them here, at least not for quite awhile.

He flipped a light switch. Good - it was working. “Xander,” he said, turning to the boy as the group stood in the dusty front room, “go back to the house. Get Cordelia and Anya and pack up as many of our things as you can, including Willow’s laptop and Cordelia’s. Then load it into Willow’s car and drive it here. Tell Cordelia I said you are to drive.”

“The Mercedes?” Xander asked, his eyes wide.

Angel merely nodded, but Xander got the message. Before leaving, however, he walked up to Willow and touched her cheek. “You’re safe now, Will. Everything’s gonna be okay.” With that, he was back out the door, headed for Willow’s house.

“We should get in touch with Giles,” Willow said softly.

“Later,” Angel said, guiding her over to the couch. It, like everything else, was dusty, but he didn’t think Willow cared if the lab coat got dirty. He didn’t want to do this, but now was the time to ask some questions. He only hoped the numbness would hold; he knew that whatever he heard would be terrible.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked, his voice as calm as he could make it. Spike stood by the fireplace, holding a poker. But when the answer came, it didn’t come from Willow.

“They kinda thought we’d mate. Or they thought I’d rape her. Not sure which.” Oz’s voice held as much emotion as Angel had ever heard, but it barely registered. In a flash, he was on his feet, the low table before the sofa smashed to splinters in a trice. His face was a mask of fury. Oz cowered. “I didn’t touch her.”

“I know,” Angel growled and Oz fractionally relaxed.

“He didn’t…but they wanted…and they said…they called me names, Angel. And they treated me like I was some dirty animal.”

Willow was crying again and it broke Angel’s heart. As much as the numbness was gone and the fury of which only the smallest portion had just been displayed was building deep within him, what was suddenly predominant was his love for Willow and his need to comfort her. There would be time for rage and vengeance later. Tonight, his lover needed him to hold her and protect her and make her feel safe.

“Spike, take Oz upstairs. I’m sure some of your old clothes are still here. They’ll do for now.”

Spike knew enough not to disobey and, with one last compassionate glance at Willow, he headed out of the room. “Coming, wolf?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Oz replied before turning to Angel and saying, “Thanks. For rescuing us and…”

Angel nodded and Oz followed Spike upstairs.

He and Willow were alone. The sound of her continued sobs was anguishing, feeding the cold fury that hungered to spring to full and vibrant life, eager for the chance to mete out torture and death. Somehow, he managed to keep it at bay, knowing it was the last thing Willow needed to see in him now. He sat next to her again, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re here, you’re safe, and I will never let them near you again.” She clutched at him and wept all the more, giving him all her pain and shame.

Despite the fact that she hadn’t been raped, she had been violated, he realized. The soldiers had done their best to rob her of her dignity and her humanity, and their intention to see her brutalized was an assault in itself. These men were monsters, as much or more so than any demon. He wondered again how Buffy could be with one of them. Had there been other girls before Willow - girls not lucky enough to be close to an Initiative member’s girlfriend? Had Riley watched and taken notes while they were forced open and raped by demons? Had he joked and laughed and dehumanized them?

“I love you,” he said, hoping the words meant enough. “I am so sorry I let this happen to you.” There were other things he thought of saying, about how nothing they did could really touch her or taint her, but somehow he knew telling her that would only make her think he saw her as damaged and he decided that silence was far more healing than the wrong words, no matter how well meant.

It was a long while before she spoke, before the crying quieted enough to allow her to speak, but eventually she said, “It’s not your fault.”

“I…”

“Shh,” she said as she touched her finger to his lips. “It’s not your fault. And hey, bonus points for showing up in the nick of time and rescuing me.” She forced a wobbly smile and Angel almost couldn’t bear how much he loved her at that moment. She was brave and sweet and plucky and forgiving…and she was his. “I love you,” she said.

He kissed her. It was a soft kiss, free from the passion she didn’t need tonight. It was worship and tenderness and affection, it was an expression of how purely and truly he loved her, and she received it gratefully. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the tenderness she alone brought out in him.

She was safe now; that was what mattered and it would be enough to keep the demon within him at bay, at least for tonight.

Tomorrow, however, he would plan his revenge.

Tbc…