Flesh Into Gear

Title: Flesh Into Gear
Author: claudia6913
Rating: R
Pairing: Aus/S/W
Summary: Drusilas bas been killed by none other then Willow. What will Angelus and Spike do when they find out?
Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, own none of the characters; they belong to Joss and Co. I’m just borrowing them for my sick and twisted pleasure. The title was taken from the song ‘Flesh Into Gear’ by CKY (Camp Kill Yourself), along with the lyrics.
Distribution: If I posted it to your list…well then I guess you can have it. Otherwise, just drop me a line…I’m sure to say yes.
Feedback: But of course. I tend to really, really like the stuff. It’s almost an obsession. Claudia_6913@hotmail.com

A/N: Thanks to Gabrielle for yet another wonderful challenge and for all of the input for this fic. You are the best! The title was taken from the song ‘Flesh Into Gear’ by CKY (Camp Kill Yourself), along with the lyrics.

A/N 2: The bulk of this fic is mostly due to Gabrielle and her excellent beta work. I don’t know why, but this chapter was a struggle for me to write, and she pulled it all together beautifully…thank you!

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Chapter 7

It had all gone wrong, so horribly wrong. None of it was supposed to have
happened. Angelus wasn’t supposed to be alive, let alone here in Sunnydale.
He was supposed to be in some Hell dimension, roasting nicely in the fires
of damnation. Instead, he killed Cordelia, dressed her up like a doll, and
left her there for Willow to find. Only Willow hadn’t been the one to find
her, Xander had.

Willow wiped her eyes again with her already soaked shirtsleeve. She
understood Xander’s reaction, but that didn’t make the pain in her chest go
away. Willow chided herself once more for not telling him, or the others,
sooner. If she had, Cordelia’s life wouldn’t have been cut short like that,
never like that.

After a while, Willow pulled herself together and began her walk home. When
she’d run, she hadn’t thought of her safety, but now, when she was alone on
the dimly lit streets, she regretted it. Willow stayed alert, listening for
footsteps, or anything that would tell her that her nightly stalker was
near. She kept one hand in her pocket, grasping the vial of holy water,
just in case.

There was one thing Willow didn’t know…were the two vampires, Angelus and
Spike, working together? Alternatively, was each of them working with a
separate agenda? Moreover, if all of this was because of what she had done
to Drusilla, then why hadn’t they killed her yet? Angelus, she knew, loved
his mind games. That might explain why she wasn’t dead yet, at least by
his hands. However, Spike, well, from what she’d read, he just
killed his victims, no toying with them first or anything like that. And
Willow had the odd feeling that they were, indeed, in on this together.
That, however, was in no way reassuring.

As Willow neared her house, she once again heard the eerie echo of footsteps
behind her. This time, she didn’t turn around or look over her shoulder.
Instead, she reached in her other pocket and removed the stake, holding it
ready in her hand. Willow picked up her pace, almost running, and dug in
the pocket that contained the holy water for her key. She had to get
inside.

Coming up to the door, Willow shoved her key in, turned the lock, and rushed
inside. Once over the protected threshold, she turned around to look
outside. Much to her surprise, she saw Angelus and Spike casually walking
up the street to her house, in plain sight. Her first instinct was to shut
the door and hide in a closet until the nightmare was over, but she knew she
wasn’t dreaming, so she squared her shoulders and prepared to talk to Spike
and Angelus, if for no other reason, then to find out their motives.

They took their time getting up to her front porch, talking quietly to each
other, but never taking their eyes off Willow. Their casual demeanor and
the lazy smiles they wore were unsettling to Willow because no matter how
relaxed they appeared, the cold piecing gaze they kept on her told her their
intentions were anything but casual. Angelus walked up as close to
the barrier as he could get, causing Willow to inhale quickly and take a
step back. Spike leaned against the doorjamb, smoking and wearing a
lascivious grin.

“Hello Willow,” Angelus said.

Looking at Angelus, Willow could see none of the emotion she had seen when
he’d acted the part of Angel’s ghost. The fact that he could fool her so
completely scared her more then she wanted him to know. Angelus was dressed
to kill, literally. He wore skintight black leather pants and a silk shirt
open down to the middle of his chest. The fabric moved in the wind, showing
off the pale muscular form underneath.

“What do you want?” Willow asked. Her voice was even and firm and nothing
like her insides, which were turning to jell-o. She had to lock her knees
so they wouldn’t shake. Her hands were at her sides, each hand fisted to
keep her from fidgeting. Willow's back was ramrod straight.

“You know what we want, Pet,” Spike said flicking his cigarette off the
porch, not once looking away from her.

“Me? You want me because I killed Drusilla?” she asked. Their laughter
caught her off guard, causing her to jump in alarm. She didn’t know what to
make of them laughing at her. She’d thought they wanted to kill her, and
the tauntings had just been part of the revenge. Now, she was not sure. She
was confused and just wanted a straight answer for once.

The two vampires, still chuckling, turned back to look at her. Angelus
placed his hands carefully on the invisible barrier and looked at Willow,
seemingly into her.

“Sure you won’t let us in?” Angelus asked, grinning. Willow just shook her
head no, unable to speak. “You are ours, Willow. Remember that.”

Willow looked away first. She couldn’t stand to look at those cold,
calculating eyes. When she looked back up, they were gone. Willow stood in
her open doorway, stunned and silent, before she closed the door and trudged
up to her bedroom. She flung herself on her bed and cried. She cried for
Corde for for herself, for Buffy, for everyone.

a traitor's embrace
how foolish how wrong
contained in one place
anxiety spawns

----------

The sun shone brightly through Willow’s window, blinding her as she stared
blankly at her ceiling. She had not slept at all that night. She just
couldn’t. They’d killed Cordelia, all because of her. That is what Angelus
and Spike had wanted her to know by leaving that note and dressing her up
like a large Drusilla-like doll. Willow couldn’t get that picture out of
her head. She’d never seen anything more disturbing. She thought it wrong,
on so many levels. She had spent hours of the night in the shower, still
clothed, under scalding hot water. Willow had felt so cold after Spike and
Angelus had left.

Lethargy held Willow firmly to her bed. The phone rang, and then stopped. The
doorbell sang its inappropriately merry tune, and then stopped. The insistent
pounding on thor dor didn’t last long, either. There was just too much for
her to mourn for. But right now, she had to think of what to do next, and
try not to think of what might happen to her and the others.

But despite her best efforts, the previous night’s events would not leave her
thoughts. Her mind formed apology after apology to Cordelia and to Xander
and Giles. Willow wished she could turn back time; tell them sooner about
Spike and Angelus. Let them know somehow so theyld pld prevent Cordelia’s
death. Just…turn it all back.

----------

“She didn’t answer the d or or her phone,” Oz said, walking into the
library.

Xander was pacing, glancing at the place Cordelia’s body had lain, dead and
cold, before the coroner had taken it away. He still couldn’t believe that
Willow hadn’t told them, or him. He felt she betrayed him as a friend, and
his girlfriend had paid the price; the very steep, very high, very deadly
price.

“Do you think she is in the house?” Giles asked. He was concerned for
Willow. He had passed out last night while Willow was searching the L’tuck
demon. The only thing that had roused him was Xander’s yelling. He was
ashamed that he’d been in the room while those bastards had killed Cordelia,
not three feet away, and he hadn’t heard a thing.

“Who cares?” Xander asked venomously. He didn’t care, not right now. It
was Willow’s fault, after all, and if she wanted to hide out in shame that
was fine with him. She knew they were here in town, and following her no
less, but she had not told them, thus putting them all in danger. What
pissed him off more was that Giles and Oz were worried about her!

“I do,” Oz said. He understood where Xander was coming from, but at the
same time, he thought Xander would pull it together by now and look at the
bigger picture. The picture being that there were two highly dangerous
vampires after Willow and they were obviously willing to kill anyone she
cared for…including them. Oz thought he would have seen that by now.

“As do I,” Giles said, stepping into Xander’s path. They stared at each
other, neither one standing down. Giles admired the young man, but he
needed to pull him out of his rut if they were to help Willow.

Giles had seen the tear-streaked face of Willow as she had run out of the
library last night. Even not having known what was going onthe the time;
Giles’ heart had sunk from the look on her face alone.

Xander’s shoulders slumped, and all he could say was, “She should have told
us.”

“Yes, but that is done and we must move on. Xander, we must help Willow
before she is next,” Giles said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder for
support.

“I, I can’t talk to her right now,” Xander said, stepping away from Giles.
“I don’t think I can forgive her for this. You two go on and do whatever it
is you want to do for her, I just can’t be a part of it.”

Giles nodded solemnly, then turned to Oz, and they left to make sure Willow
was all right. They stayed silent on the drive there, neither one wanting
to talk and each lost in their thoughts.

Oz was worried for his girlfriend. Not only for her physical safety, but
her mental stability as well. From what he had gathered from Xander, Oz was
dismayed to find out that Willow was being followed not only by Angelus, who
had appeared to her disguised as Angel’s ghost, but the deadly Spike as
well. It hurt him to think that she didn’t trust him with that information,
but he wanted to hear her side before he decided if she had betrayed his
trust or not. There were just too many factors involved in this situation
for Oz to judge anything just yet.

As they drove to Willow’s house, Giles fretted. His children were hurting,
in need of his help, and he felt helpless. He hated feeling like that. He
hated that he was not able to find his Slayer. He hated that Willow was
being tormented in front of his eyes and he had been too self-involved to
notice, and he hated that because of his selfishness and inattention to
anything around him, Cordelia had been killed. Her death was another thing
that chilled Giles to the bone. Xander had told him that he and Willow had
only waited out in the hall for fifteen minutes before they’d gone in after
Cordelia. In that short space of time, the vampires had made her up to look
like a doll. That suggested to Giles that they had planned this out. He
found no physical marks on her, save for the broken neck, but they had fixed
her up so that she looked perfect, too perfect.

Finally, they pulled into Willow’s driveway. Oz and Giles looked at each
other, both obviously not knowing what to do. Willow might not answer the
door, or she might not want to see them. All they wanted to do was make
sure she was all right.

unopened reowned
what's needed upscaled
digested inhaled
unwilling unwound

----------

Willow vaguely heard the knocking on her door. She wanted it to go away,
leave her alone. The silence was peaceful, and if she concentrated on it,
the images wouldn’t come. They wouldn’t haunt her if only she could
concentrate. The banging wouldn’t stop though, she could feel it pounding
through the house into her, pounding through her. Willow had the feeling
that she should answer the door, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She
wasn’t sure she’d know how to open the door.

Hearing glass break didn’t make her move, nor did hearing the front door
open. Someone had rudely broken into her house. She knew she should get
up, go investigate, but moving…well, it hurt. Not in her muscles, but
somewhere deeper where the ache was constant. She could only imagine how
Xander felt.

“Willow,” a voice asked. The voice slowly registered to Willow.

“Oz?” Willow asked. She turned her head to face the direction his voice
had come from. She saw Oz and Giles standing solemnly in the doorway to her
room. Willow tried to offer them a smile…something, but there was nothing.
She was drained.

“Let us get her downstairs. Have her eat and drink some water,” Giles said
to Oz.

Willow watched as the two of them came up to beside her and helped her sit
up.

“Do you think you can stand?” Giles asked. Willow wasn’t sure, but nodded
anyways.

Together, Giles and Oz helped her to her feet. Willow teetered for a moment
before finding her balance. Every muscle in her body began a tingling
protest to the movement. Soon, it started to hurt, not painfully at first,
but quickly it felt like her whole body was a giant pincushion. Her muscles
had fallen asleep while she had lain motionless on the bed. Willow stood
very still until it passed.

“Sorry,” Willow said hoarsely. Her throat was sore and dry from all of the
crying she’d done last night. “Can we get that water now?”

“Yes, of course,” Giles said, flustered. He stepped aside as Oz took
Willow’s arm and led her carefully downstairs. Giles had been frightened
when Willow didn’t answer her door. Oz had told him that Willow was ok when
Giles had started to panic. Nevertheless, werewolf or not, Giles wanted to
see for himself. He had to make sure. Therefore, he’d broken the window by
the door, forcing his way in. Willow was alright though, for the most part.
Drained, tired, but alright…and alive. Giles followed Willow and Oz to
the kitchen and watched as Oz made Willow comfortable before he went to the
refrigerator to make her something to eat.

“Hey, Giles man,” Oz said, breaking Giles away from this thoughts. “Make
some tea, or something…for her throat.”

“What? Oh, yes. Sorry,” Giles said. Moving to the sink, he grabbed the
teakettle that sat on the stove.

“There’s tea in the cupboard up to your left,” Willow said.

Thanking her, Giles turned and looked. He found nothing but those dreaded
little tea bags, though he did find Chamomile and Earl Grey. Giles filled
the teapot and put it on the stove to boil. Looking around the kitchen,
Giles smiled. He was glad to have them here, alive and well.

----------

Watching from the open door of her house, Willow waved as Oz and Giles
climbed back into Oz’s van and drove off. She was glad to be alone again.
While their intentions had been good, Willow just wasn’t in the mood for
company, or the topic of the conversation. Apparently, Xander had told them
all about Angel’s supposed ghost and about Spike following her, not that she
thought he wouldn’t tell them. Oz stayed quiet the entire time, only asking
questions every now and then. Giles, however, had made it very clear that
she could tell him anything, anytime and he wouldn’t judge her. When they’d
left Giles had hugged her tightly, making her promise to call him the minute
she needed help. Oz on the other hand had remained somewhat distant and had
only given her a perfunctory hug, as if it was a chore expected of him.
Willow was too lost in her thoughts to notice, though. She was too busy
thinking about something Giles had said during their conversation.

Willow had asked Giles if there was anything she could do to change things,
make them better. To which he answered, “Well, short of actually going back
in time…no, Willow. I’m afraid not.”

She had asked him to explain and asked if that was even possible. Giles
said that almost anything was possible with magick. He also told her that
he had several volumes at the library that contained a few spells that could
alter time and reality, along with spells to summon a few demons with such
power. He cautioned her that such magicks were best avoided due to how
dangerous they were, especially when they were used in the wrong way. It
made their results unpredictable and uncertain. Willow could tell by the
fact that Giles had opened up to her that he was happy to see her up and
moving around, gladly telling her anything to keep talking to her,
reassuring himself that she was alright.

Shutting the front door, Willow made her way to the bathroom, wanting to
take a proper shower. When she got out, she wrote out a note to Xander,
apologizing for not telling him and asking him to forgive her. She would
deliver it on the way to the school, later today.

Willow had to fix this. She now knew what she had to do. She would find a
spell to go back in time and tell everyone about Spike and Angelus, thus
saving Cordelia from being killed. All she had to do was find the spell.