Oncoming Train

Author’s note: A big thanks to CC, Alice, TheShadowCat, Krimson, zel, Sandyblond, and Maud for reviewing my story. I know this is a rare pairing (which is about all I write) and it gives me warm fuzzies to know I am not alone in my deviancy. Things are going to start picking up and Angelus is going to be stepping to the fore, so I hope you stay with me!
***
They could hear raised voices from inside the house before they reached the back door. Angel identified Cordelia’s easily, having heard that screech often enough, but it took him a few minutes to realize the other two voices were Willow and Dawn’s. He’d never heard Willow that upset. Exchanging a concerned glance with Xander, he unlocked the door and led the way towards the commotion, Buffybot bringing up the rear.

The rest of the team was gathered in the living room. Safely to one side, close enough to the door in case he had to run, Gunn was slouched against the wall, eyes determinedly cast down to his shoes. The young street fighter’s relief was palpable when he caught sight of the returning patrol, no longer the only guy witnessing the catfight in the center of the room. Standing inches apart, Cordelia, Willow and Dawn were screaming at one another, their words indecipherably jumbled as arms waved and fingers jabbed. The new arrivals went completely unnoticed.

“What is going on?” Angel thundered, bringing momentary silence. The three girls froze, red, puffy eyes turning to stare at him in shock. Unsurprising, Cordelia recovered first.

“Angel!” The brunette’s cheeks were flushed with anger, but they quickly paled at the sight of him. “Angel, my vision, ah, oh boy, this is gonna hurt.”

Dawn shot her a hateful glare. “She and your friend stopped us from bringing Buffy back!”

“They were my vision, Angel. They were the evil we came to stop.”

There was a gasp from behind him, though he couldn’t tell from whom. The world contracted to a miniscule pain in his chest that quickly expanded, clouding the reality around him. He could honestly say he loved Buffy Summers, but he hadn’t been in love with her for a very long time. She’d always been more a symbol of his redemption than a human girl, and that hurt, to know he could never cede her that simple respect. It was a grudge he’d carried against Riley, loving the girl Buffy and not the Slayer. Tragic in that he had loved what was to be had and Riley had loved what could not, for the only thing untimely about Buffy’s death was how long it took in coming. A Slayer’s life was a short one and she’d lived longest of them all.

The door banged down the hall, drowning the small thud of a body on its way to the floor. Angel blinked and his eyes focused on Dawn’s tearing face. What she and the others had nearly done; he should be consumed by rage, but even Angelus bowed his head before this little girl’s grief.

“Dawn, you can’t bring Buffy back,” he began softly, desperate to find the words that would make a fifteen year old understand.

“Why not? You came back!”

He shook his head, confused to how she could equate the two. “But I didn’t die. Not then. And I was sent to Hell.”

“Isn’t that where Buffy went?” Willow asked around the fist pressed to her mouth.

“No, Willow, God, no.” Hadn’t Giles told these children? Hadn’t the Watcher known? He’d come to the crux of their insanity and stepped into it, opening his arms to receive two small bundles of tears. “Buffy went to Heaven. All Slayers, for being chosen, go to Heaven. Buffy did not go to Hell.”

“Really?” Dawn whispered into his chest, fingers a tentative movement he could barely feel as she curled them into his shirt.

“It’s their reward for serving. I know you miss her, but do you want her to come back to this life? Where she’s at, she doesn’t have to fight any more.”

“But she left me alone.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sure she didn’t want to leave, but she didn’t leave you alone. She knew we’d all be here.” Cordelia slipped a maternal arm around the teenager and tugged her away from the slightly dampened vampire. The look she shot over the girl’s shoulder was a proud one, but Angel didn’t feel his usual amount of joy at pleasing his demanding secretary. Willow eased away from him, red hair obscuring her lowered face as she stumbled to her girlfriend crying alone on the couch. The two curled around each other, consolation and grief intertwined. Cordelia settled Dawn on the opposite end of the couch and hugged her tightly. Which left Angel to what waited behind him.

His childe was petting a lapful of quietly sobbing Xander, face buried in the dark curls. Riley was not to be seen, but Gunn somberly pointed the way. The android was standing in his way, a sad and confused expression marring her plastic face.

“Where does Dawny think I went? I’m right here.”

Angel shoved her out of the way. “Shut up. Gunn, she needs to be fixed.”

“Sure. No problem,” the young street fighter answered calmly and Angel was suddenly grateful for the man’s tact.

The vampire nodded that he’d heard and slipped out of the room, listening for an imprinted heartbeat. Out the back door and a sweet sourness led him behind a wall of uprooted rose bushes to where his boy knelt in the dirt, vomiting what little his stomach had hoarded. Knowing that there was nothing he could do, Angel simply sat at his side, watching as splatterings of bile gave over to dry heaves. By slow increments his chill hand settled onto the bowed back, rubbing sympathy and shared pain into the tensed muscles.

The heaves settled. He helped Riley sit back, taking most of his weight easily, pleased by the displayed familiarity. Trembling arms wrapping about his abused stomach Riley dropped his head to the hard chest offered. Angel hugged him close, a low purr resonating to soothe his distraught seer.

“They thought she had gone to Hell,” Angel said quietly, daring to stroke his thumb over the smooth nape.

Riley was quiet for a long while, then he stirred. “I never thought about where she had gone. She’s dead; never mattered beyond that. Should have known Dawn would need more. I should have suspected something.”

Angel rumbled his dissent. “The chances of Willow finding the necessary components for such a spell were slim. It certainly never occurred to me, and I’ve greater experience with what a determined Willow Rosenberg can do. And she must have done most of her research right under Giles’ nose.”

“But if she had succeeded?”

“Cordelia had a vision about it, remember? She doesn’t have visions of happy things.”

“No,” Riley softly agreed. “It wouldn’t have been happy. Not in any reality.”

“You had another vision?” Angel frowned. Disturbing, but he was starting to miss the incapacitating headaches that heralded his former seers’ visions.

“Not exactly.” The lanky blond shifted away. “The vision of Xander in trouble earlier? That’s only happened once and was very intense. Usually, all I have are random flashes, possible futures of whomever or whatever I focus on. It’s proving rather distracting in keeping a tight grip of the here and now.” He scooped up a handful of dirt and trickled it over the pungent mess he’d left. “You could say it’s like channel surfing, except I don’t have the remote. When Dawn admitted what they had almost done, all these possibilities of what could have happened . . . . it was just too much.”

“You can’t control what you see?” Angel pressed.

“No, it just happens. Like I said, it makes it hard to focus, but I’m working on it.” He smiled then, a slightly wistful lifting of the corners of his long mouth. “Oddly, it’s better when you’re around.”

Angel nodded absently, his mind distracted by too many questions. Questions that would have to wait. “We need to tell the others that you are my new Messenger.”

“Then let’s do it now,” Riley said in a determined tone his worried eyes betrayed. Wiping his hand off on his pant’s leg, he gracefully stood and kicked more loose dirt over his vomit. Angel said nothing, gaining his own feet and patiently waiting for the boy to finish burying the lapse of weakness.

Everyone had remained in the living room. Gunn was still propping up the wall, but Spike and Xander had moved to one of the large chairs, the petite blond comfortably ensconced in his lover’s lap. Heads across the room lifted at their entrance, but Cordelia was the one who spoke first.

“Riley, oh my God, are you okay?” The aspiring actress leapt to her feet, but refrained from grabbing him at Angel’s warning glare. “You know, I remember feeling this funny fluttering in my stomach, but I just thought, ‘Wow, this guy is major hot!’ I swear, I had no idea! Are you okay? Do you need any aspirin?”

“Um,” Riley cast around for help. “I was just a little sick.” Then he caught Xander’s sheepish expression. “Xander?”

“Sorry, man, I figured Cordelia would be the first to know about the visions. Shoulda known better, eh?”

“Oh.” Riley’s hands drifted to his back pockets. “The visions.”

“Well,” Angel stepped up beside him, muscular arm encircling his shoulders, “that saves us about five minutes of explaining. Yes, Riley is now the messenger for The Powers That Be. As to how, I’m thinking Willow has some idea about that. Willow?”

The red-headed witch squirmed deeper into her girlfriend’s arms, a slow flush creeping across her pale skin. “I was only trying to make up for the other spell. I mean, all it was supposed to do was restore health, a simple healing spell.”

“It worked, all right,” Cordelia interjected. “On me! Those visions were killing me!”

“My body was already healing itself. Your spell must have re-directed at Cordelia,” Riley quietly spoke, not looking at anyone. “I don’t have the headaches, but the powers seem slightly different also. Hopefully, we’ll know more once Angel has a chance to talk to his Oracles.”

“I thought they were gone,” Gunn frowned.

“Wait!” Dawn spoke at the same time. “Does that mean Riley’s moving to LA?” Perched on the edge of the couch, Dawn looked near tears again.

“Wesley is working on that,” Angel answered Gunn, “and yes, Riley will be returning to LA with me.” He caught the sharp glance the blond threw him, surprise warring with anger. “As my new messenger, I’ll need him close.”

“Ever heard of a phone?” Riley hissed.

Angel just smiled. “What needs to be decided now is where to move from here. Cordelia’s vision has been taken care of, but some demons tonight saw that our Slayer is an android. We killed the ones in the cemetery, but Frenkhin are hive demons: what one knows they all know. Pretty soon this town is going to be the last place a mortal will want to be.”

“So if we’d brought Buffy back,” Dawn started, but Riley’s head shake stopped her. “Buffy could have stopped them,” she stubbornly insisted.

“No, Dawn. This is going to be really bad.”

“When?” Xander asked.

Riley frowned, eyes blanking as he consciously tried to manipulate his clairvoyance. He shrugged off Angel’s arm, stepping away. The master vampire increased the distance, understanding his proximity somehow nullified the powers. A line creased the seer’s forehead, but his voice remained steady. “Three nights from now, I think, motorcycles, vans full of Frenkhin. Others. I can’t see them not coming. But what happens after . . . it’s too chaotic. We need to move closer.”

“To what?” Someone asked.

“What we’re going to do, time. I think we need the hula girl.”

Cordelia met everyone’s confused stares with a bright smile. “Don’t worry. It’s not really meant to make sense. When it happens, it will. These things are sooo open to interpretation.”

TBC.