Title: Addiction

Email: mystic_spirit@hotmail.com

Author: Arina

Rating: PG-15 to R I guess

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. They all belong to Joss,

except for Roy.

Summary: When Angel is in L.A, he comes across an old friend in the most

unlikely place. Now he must do all that he can to bring hope and life back

to that person before its too late…

Feedback: I wouldn’t mind. It’s my first fic, and I’d like to know if I’ve

done anything wrong.

Authors Notes: This is set two years after Graduation. After that, Angel

never returns to Sunnydale. I hadn’t seen the Angel series when I began the

story, so whatever mistakes I made with it, I’ll apologize beforehand. Also,

thanks to Sarge and Laine for beta reading the story.

Thought represented in < >

Chapter 1

Angel walked down the empty road. The dim streetlights of L.A kept him

partially hidden in the shadows, where he preferred to spend most of his

time. Despite the deserted surroundings, Angel felt a strange calm whenever

he took long walks by himself, often not knowing where he would head. The

calm filled the empty that existed inside him ever since he left Sunnydale.

He still remembered the hope in Buffy’s eyes when she saw him outside the

school. He also remembered how that hope drained from her face the moment

he turned around, never to return.

But that was two years ago. Now, she would be in college, and if what he

heard was true, was in a pretty serious relationship with a guy named Riley.

Oddly enough, Angel didn’t feel any jealousy towards Buffy and Riley’s

relationship – in fact, he hoped it would work out. From the moment that he

saw Buffy, he knew that there would never be any kind of happy relationship

between the two of them. He was a vampire; she was the slayer. Despite all

the love they had for each other, he always feared the thought that she

would turn on him and stake him. She had never known it, but he feared her.

It had only been several months since Angel realized that what he had once

felt for Buffy was gone; the love they had once shared was no longer an

aspect in his mind. Part of him was glad of that notion. He felt a certain

sense of freedom, no longer bearing the burden of forbidden love.

But he also felt alone. When he was with Buffy, he knew that he was loved

and wanted. Even though he never felt accepted, he always felt needed. But

ever since he left Sunnydale his loneliness and depression grew. He would

spend his days sleeping, or thinking about all the things he was missing in

life, sinking into an even deeper depression. As soon as sunset came he

would roam the streets, either searching for vampires, or for wandering

souls of which he could take back to his agency to ‘heal’.

Angel snorted. Heal. Most of the people he found only came with him to get a

free meal and a talk, then bolted at the break of dawn. He tried to make an

effort to help people, but in 7 out of 10 cases he failed. Many being

homeless or streetwise people, they were wary of whom they could trust, and

Angel knew that he of all people was at the bottom of the list.

Angel snapped out of his thoughts as he realized that he had stopped

walking. In front of him was a door, with a sign hanging above it labeled,

‘HOMELESS SHELTER’. He stood there staring at the sign, wondering why he had

come here. A moment later, he remembered. He was supposed to look for a

teenager by the name of Roy Olsen.

Cordelia had met Roy in front of a café, asking for spare change, and oddly

enough, developed a strange bond with him. He disappeared a few days ago

and Cordelia had actually threatened Angel to find Roy. Even though he knew

that she would never follow through with her threat, it touched Angel that

Cordelia cared so much for a homeless boy.

Angel pushed open the door and walked in. Despite the size of the enormous

room, it was cramped with cots, futons and sleeping bags – anything that

would serve as a sleeping device. He even saw two folding chairs pushed

together as a makeshift bed.

He walked around the room quietly, hoping not to wake anybody. After a few

moments of searching he finally spotted Roy sitting against a wall, eating a

loaf of bread. He walked over to Roy and stood in front of him. Roy froze in

the middle of chewing and nervously looked up at the looming figure in front

of him.

"What the – oh hey, Angel," relief passed over Roy’s face. "You had me

scared for a moment. Thought you were one of the dinner chefs,"

Angel sat down next to Roy. "What happened? You get them angry?"

Roy grinned slyly. "Sort of. I got a little hungry so I snuck into the back

room for something to eat." He shook the bread in his hand.

"And I take it you didn’t get caught?"

Roy looked offended. "Of course not. What kind of thief would I be if I got

caught?"

Angel shook his head. "You got a point. But you know, one day someone’s

going to catch you,"

Roy shrugged. "Maybe. But see, some people are too blind to notice. They

underestimate me, thinking that I’m just a homeless boy, when REALLY, I’m a

homeless boy with a degree in theft."

Angel chuckled. He knew exactly what Roy was talking about. On the first day

that they met, Roy managed to steal not only his wallet and spare change,

but also his watch, ring and Cordelia’s cell phone.

His expression turned serious. "Why’d you leave, Roy?"

Roy stopped chewing. "Had to stop by to talk to some friends. See how they

were going. I was gonna come back, I swear."

Angel nodded slowly. "I believe you," he said softly. He stood up. "So you

ready to leave?"

Roy grinned. "Yeah, man. I’m sick of eating porridge and bread. I’m ready

for some REAL food. Steak, gravy, the whole deal." Though the bread was

gone, his stomach rumbled loudly. "Or I could just settle for a sandwich or

something."

He stood up, ready to follow Angel until he stopped and frowned slightly.

"Wait a sec, Angel. There’s this girl that I met a couple of days ago. She’s

been here for a few months, but since I been with you guys, I only just met

her. Anyway, I think she needs some kind of help. She looks kinda…sad and

lost. Like she’s been on one acid trip too many, you get?"

Angel put his hand on Roy’s shoulder. "I’m sorry Roy, but you know the

rules. We can’t just take everybody in; we have to limit things. This girl

sounds like she needs rehab more than she needs a soul search. Now I know

that you want to help her but – "

"No, man! You don’t get it," Roy burst out, "She ain’t like the others.

There’s something different about her, like she doesn’t know where she is.

She’s like this-this kid that’s lost but doesn’t want to be found. I have

this thing that if no one helps her, she’ll kill herself. Come on! You guys

helped me. Can’t you try and help her?"

Angel sighed. Roy was putting him in a difficult position. He remembered the

first time he saw Roy – a thin, gangly 16-year old boy covered in bruises

from the beatings of local gangs. He had been so untrustworthy, but with the

help of Angel’s past, Cordelia’s support and a truckload of cookies, they

finally managed to earn Roy’s trust.

He looked at Roy. He could see the anger and hurt in his eyes, from thinking

that Angel didn’t believe him. He sighed again. "Alright," he gave in, "Show

me this girl, and I’ll see what I can do."

Roy grinned widely. "Sick, man! I’ll take you to her. And oh yeah – she’s

really cute." He led Angel through the scattered bodies asleep around the

room to one of the back corners. He stopped in front of a small cot with a

body huddled in a fetal position. "Here she is,"

Angel looked at the girl. His eyes narrowed. There was something about her,

something he couldn’t quite place, that was strangely familiar. Her limp red

hair hung over her face as she looked up at him. Angel gasped.

"Willow!"

Chapter 2

Angel stared in shock at the sight before him. The once-innocent hacker was

now huddled on a cot in a homeless shelter. Her hair was limp and dirty; her

body thin and covered in scratches. Her face no longer glowed with

cheerfulness, but had a seemingly permanent scowl set on it, radiating a

sinister aura. But what shocked him the most were Willow’s eyes. Dead and

lifeless, they were no longer the sparkling emerald gems that he remembered.

The green orbs he looked into now were dulled with hopelessness and loss.

He was shaken out of his observations when he felt a slight tugging on his

sleeve. Looking down, he realized that he had forgotten that Roy was with

him. "You know her?" Roy asked, surprise evident in his eyes.

Angel swallowed, hoping to find his voice. "Uh, yeah I-I know her." Taking

another look at Willow, he turned back to Roy. "Could you, uh, wait for me

at the door? I’ll just be a couple of minutes."

Roy shrugged. "Sure."

He turned and began walking to the door when Angel’s voice brought him to a

stop.

"Roy?"

"Yeah?"

"Give me back my wallet."

Roy grinned sheepishly and tugged a brown wallet out of his pocket. He

tossed it to Angel. "I didn’t think you’d notice," he admitted.

"You know me. I ALWAYS notice,"

"Sure, sure," Roy replied and turned again to walk to the front door.

Angel sat down next to Willow. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gently

turned her to face him. "Willow? Can you hear me?"

She blinked at him and tilted her head to one side. Her face showed no sign

of recognition.

He tried again. "Willow? Do you remember me? Do you know where you are?"

Still nothing.

Angel began to grow desperate. "Willow? It’s me, Angel. Do you remember who

I am?"

Willow blinked again. "Angel?" she whispered.

Angel almost jumped up with happiness. But before he let his mind leap to

conclusions, he had to make sure that she wasn’t just repeating his words.

"Who am I?" he asked her.

Willow smiled. "Angel." She repeated.

Angel thought quickly. "Do you know me?"

"Yes, silly. Angel came back," her smile wavered sadly.

Angel resisted the urge to grab her in a bear hug, and instead asked more

questions. "Why are you here, Willow? Where are the others?"

Her smile faded. "Gone. They all went away with the seasons. And then the

moon stopped shining…" her voice trailed off and she sniffled, pouting

slightly.

Angel’s blood turned cold. The tone and actions of Willow was dangerously

similar to that of Drusilla. Shuddering slightly, he forced the memory of

the insane vampiress to the back of his mind. "What do you mean, gone?" he

questioned carefully.

She looked at him sadly. "Gone," she said again, "All gone. Everyone…" She

yawned and her eyelids drooped.

Angel contemplated the situation. He knew that Willow was in no condition to

talk; judging by the bags under her eyes, she definitely needed the rest. He

stood up and looked around for anything that may have belonged to her.

Spotting a black, leather bag next to the head of the bed, he picked it up

and slung it over his shoulder. Then he gently picked Willow up and carried

her to where Roy stood waiting.

Angel smiled at Roy. "You did a good job, man."

Roy pretended to buff his nails on his shirt. "Naturally," he replied with

fake modesty, "I take it she’s coming with us?"

Angel nodded. Roy opened the door for him and then followed.

"So you know her?" Roy asked again.

"Yeah. I’ll, uh, tell you about it as soon as we get back."

Roy groaned. "Cordelia’s gonna give me hell, huh?"

"You bet. But don’t worry, I won’t let her kill you."

Roy sighed. "Thanks a bunch, Angel."

"Anytime. Oh, and Roy?"

"Hmm?"

"Don’t think that I don’t know about the money you took from my wallet,"

Angel turned a corner and Roy stared after him, dumbfounded.

< How the hell did he know? >

* *

The moment Angel entered the apartment block, Cordelia pounced on him.

"Where the hell were you? You told me you were going to go and find Roy, and

here you are, carrying some tramp in your arms! What’s the deal?"

"Shhh! You’ll wake – "

"Don’t ‘shhh’ me! Where’s Roy? And who the hell is that, anyway?" she

gestured toward the girl in Angel’s arms.

"Cordelia, calm down. This is –"

"Ohhh! I will NOT calm down! And don’t you dare tell me that this is some

‘lost soul’ girl! I don’t need to hear that crap right now. Damn, Angel! You

always tell me off for bringing strangers here and there you are holding a

girl! I swear, you can be SUCH a hypocr – is that Willow?" she walked over

and leaned toward the sleeping girl. "That IS Willow! Why didn’t you tell me

earlier?"

Angel sighed. "Roy’s outside," he said, hoping that she would harass Roy

instead of him.

"Don’t try and – Roy? Really? You found him?"" she smiled happily, and then

frowned. "Oh, that little weasel! I swear, I’ll kill him. No, wait, I’ll

scream at him THEN I’ll kill him…"

She stomped outside muttering a string of curses.

Angel chuckled. He could already hear Cordelia shouting at the boy, and

Roy’s feeble excuses for not leaving a note. < Poor kid > he thought. He

headed to his room and placed Willow on the bed. Tucking the covers in

around her, he stroked her hair before walking to the living room. Picking

up the bag, which he had dropped on the sofa, he noticed what looked to be a

long needle sticking out of it. Curiously, he pulled the ‘needle’ out of the

bag, and then realized that he was actually holding a syringe.

Lifting the syringe to his nose, he sniffed it to figure out the contents of

it. < Heroin >. Shaking his head, he rushed back to his room to where Willow

was sleeping. Pulling the covers off her arm, he pushed the sleeve of her

sweater up and sighed when he saw tracks. His eyes narrowed when he saw the

trail of dried blood down her forearm.

At the sight of her blood, he could feel the demon inside him rising, urging

him to feed off her. Pushing the feelings down, he licked his finger and ran

it over the blood trail. He lifted his hand to his mouth and tasted the

blood. What he recognized in the dried fluid chilled him to the bone. He

could taste the drug in the dried blood and realized that it had been used

so many times that it had almost molded with the blood. The resistance in

the fluid that should have been there against the heroin wasn’t present.

Angel thought about something Roy had said earlier. "…Like she’s been on one

acid trip too many…" Frowning slightly, his eyes widened as an awful

realization struck him.

Willow, sweet, gentle Willow, was a drug addict.

Chapter 3

Angel walked out of the bedroom with a faraway expression on his face.

Different thoughts ran through his head. Why was Willow in L.A? Where was

Buffy? What happened to Willow? Obviously something awful occurred in order

for her to turn to drugs. He sat down in a chair, completely oblivious to

the fact that Roy was also in the room and staring at him with a slightly

bemused expression on his face.

Roy coughed, breaking the silence in the room. Surprised, Angel looked at

Roy, wondering to when he had come in the room.

"So," Roy began. "How is she?"

"She’s still sleeping," Angel said. "But - " he broke off, shaking his head.

"What?" Roy asked, concerned. Even though he had only known Willow for a few

days, he found himself becoming slightly protective of her.

"She’s on drugs," Angel said sadly.

"Oh, is that all?" Roy asked, relieved. "I thought you were gonna say she

was a guy or something."

Angel stared at Roy. "You knew?"

"Yeah. Didn’t you?"

"No. Why didn’t you tell me before?"

"Well I-I thought you knew. I mean, almost everyone in the shelter does

drugs. Even if they don’t start out on them, they usually end up doing them.

And she has been there for, like, three months,"

Angel frowned, lost in deep thoughts. Something terrible must have happened,

and Willow must have run away form Sunnydale. That was the only real

possibility to why she was in L.A and doing drugs. If the others had died,

then Cordelia or one of his contacts would have informed Angel. < I’ll find

out > he vowed himself. Facing back to Roy, he forced a small smile. "So how

did it work out with Cordelia?" he asked.

Roy groaned. "Don’t remind me, man. I swear, she’s bonkers. First she yelled

at me, then she hugged me, then she yelled at me again, and then locked me

in this apartment. She’s out buying ice-cream now."

Angel raised an eyebrow. "You conned her into buying some?"

Roy smiled cheekily. "No. All I said was that I hadn’t eaten for a while,

and that I’m feeling SO hungry… oh, and I may have mentioned that I have an

incredible urge for chocolate chip ice cream. Before I knew it, she was

already out the door."

Angel shook his head, amazed. Roy was the only living male that Cordelia

would ever willingly look after and care for. He tried to imagine Buffy’s

and the others’ reactions to Cordelia’s strange behavior. Thinking about

Buffy reminded Angel of the current situation. He interrupted Roy, who was

giving a more in depth description of Cordelia’s verbal assault on him.

"Roy, " he asked suddenly. "When did you first meet Willow?"

Roy was surprised at Angel’s change of mood. At first, he had been all

broody and depressed when he found out about Willow’s addiction, then he

seemed almost light-hearted as Roy told him about Cordelia, and now he was

all serious and stern again. "Uh, well…I met her, three, maybe four days

ago. Why?"

"Well, maybe Willow isn’t addicted to heroin. I mean, hey, you haven’t known

her for long. She may just be taking it as a substitute anti-depressant or

something." Roy shook his head.

"Sorry, Angel but that’s not the deal. I know for a fact that she’s hooked

liked you wouldn’t believe it. I mean, she even has her own agent."

Angel gave him a confused look. "Agent?"

"Yeah, they’re another name that we use for drug dealers. Like, you call on

them when you need some, like you would with a normal agent. Only instead of

auditions, you get crack. Anyway, Willow’s agent is very exclusive. He only

sells to regulars, meaning that-"

"- She’s a regular," Angel finished off softly, "I get it."

"Sorry, Angel," Roy said. "But, you know, his stuff ain’t that good, anyway.

I heard it’s really weak stuff, wears off in, like, an hour. And y’know, he

may be a slick dealer, but as a thief, believe me when I say he sucks. For

one thing, he looks like a thief, which is a big NO in crowds, and for

another, his hands are like balloons with sausages stuck on them. Huge

insult to my profession."

Angel looked at him. "So you know this guy?"

"Well, not KNOW him, but I’ve seen him around,"

"Then you’d recognize him in a crowd?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, I guess I would. Why do you…" Roy’s voice trailed off as he realized

where Angel was heading. < Damn > he thought, < I shouldn’t have said

anything. > "But, hey, what do I know? I’m a kid. Everyone looks the same to

me," he finished off lamely.

"Oh, come on. What do you think? Are you up to it?"

"Yeah, I’m up to it. I just…don’t wanna…"

"What are you, chicken?" Angel taunted.

Roy’s eyes flashed. "No, I’d just rather live, that’s all."

"We won’t DO anything. We’ll just go for a…talk."

"Yeah sure," Roy said sarcastically. "A talk that’ll leave me with broken

fingers, and then I’ll never be able to steal again,"

"You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll be there to make sure that no one

hurts you."

"Oh yeah," snapped Roy. "Just like you were ‘there’ for me when Cordelia was

shouting at me, huh?"

"Look, I said I wouldn’t let her kill you. Lecture, I’ll let; killing, I

won’t."

"Well I’d rather she did kill me. She probably blew out one of my friggin

eardrums!"

Angel snorted. "It’s not like you haven’t been through worse. And besides,

these people are men. They don’t scream. Which means that your ears will be

fine."

"Yeah, but-" Roy protested.

"No buts, Roy. You’re coming with me, no matter what you say. You may be a

better thief than I, but I hold more authority. I didn’t wanna do it this

way, but you left me no choice."

"But I-I – Cordelia!" Roy almost shouted.

Angel looked to the door. "What? She’s not back yet."

"No. I mean that she’ll never let you take me anywhere where I might get

hurt," Roy almost laughed with triumph.

Angel’s eyebrows shot up. "She still believes that excuse?!" he asked

incredulously.

"Yup. Which means you can’t make me go."

"I’ll tell her I’m taking you somewhere else then."

"Oh please," Roy scoffed. "Who do you think she’ll believe, me or you?

Besides, what do you think she’s gonna do to you when she finds out you lied

to her?"

Angel paused. Even he knew not to cross Cordelia when she was in a foul

mood. "You don’t know that she’ll find out…"

Roy stared at him. "Angel, when has she NOT found out about something? I

mean, she probably knows the number of underwear in your drawer."

"Still…" Angel was running out of comebacks.

"Anyway, if you even TRIED to take me anywhere remotely dangerous, she’d

show you a whole new type of hell."

A thought came to Angel. "Alright then. She’ll come with us. That way, she

can keep an eye on you, protect you and I won’t have to lie to her."

Roy’s smile faded. His shoulders slumped as he realized that he had lost.

Angel noticed Roy’s acceptance of defeat and smiled slightly. "Great," he

said. "We go tomorrow evening."

Chapter 4

Willow stirred as she woke up. Cracking an eyelid open, she expected to be

greeted by the sight of peeling wallpaper and dingy lighting. Instead, she

found herself staring at the face of Angel, who appeared to be dozing in a

chair.

Sitting up, she tried to force down the nauseated feelings that threatened

to overcome her. Shifting herself to the side of the bed, she stood

unsteadily on her feet. Using a nearby table for balance, she took a step

forward. A wave of dizziness swept over her. Bright dots danced in front of

her eyes as she tried to blink them away. After her vision cleared, she took

another step and released her hold on the table. Putting a foot forward, she

felt her knees weaken. < Uh-oh >

WHOOMP!

Collapsing on the floor, Willow sighed. < Gee, that was a dumb idea > she

thought. Her eyes searched the room for something to help her stand up. She

yelped when she felt two strong arms lift her up to a standing position. She

looked up and saw that it was Angel, who woke up when Willow crashed to the

floor that helped her.

"Uh, thanks," Willow said. "I was trying to . . . walk, but I –I think I

need to sit again."

Angel gave her an amused look. "Do you need help?"

"Uh –well, could you?"

He shrugged. "Sure," Lifting her easily off the floor, he carried her back

to the bed. She sat down with relief.

For some reason, she wouldn’t look at him. The moment she sat down she began

to fidget, tugging at loose threads on her sweater and tracing the pattern

on the bedspread.

Angel noticed her restlessness and decided to be blunt and straightforward.

"Willow, what’s going on?"

She shrugged. "Nothing," She mumbled.

"Why are you in L.A?" he pressed.

"What? Can’t a girl come to L.A to visit a friend? Am I not allowed to do

that? Do you not want me to be here? I can leave if you really want me to."

Angel sighed. "No, Willow, please stay. You’re always welcome to come here.

But I don’t get why you’re here by yourself."

She still wouldn’t look at him. "I felt independent."

"Independent! Willow, I found you in a homeless shelter!"

"I didn’t ask you to find me! I was doing perfectly fine on my own."

"Oh, really? Well if you’ve been doing so ‘fine’, then tell me, why is it

that you’ve been there for three months?

"That’s none of your business!"

"You’re my friend and I’ll MAKE it my business!" Willow flinched and Angel

silently berated himself for using such a harsh tone. "Willow, what’s

wrong?" he asked softly.

She suddenly became very interested in the sleeve of her sweater. "Nothing,"

she mumbled again.

"Please don’t lie to me, Willow."

"I’m not lying!" she said defensively. "Geez, I’ve been with you for less

than four hours and already you’re calling me a liar?"

Angel was taken aback by her sharp tone. "Willow, I –" he paused and thought

carefully. "I never meant to insult you. I just wanted to find out what’s

wrong."

"Nothing’s wrong," Willow denied bluntly.

Angel sighed. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to get any answers form

Willow. "Fine," he said. "I’ll, uh, I’ll call Buffy and maybe we can-"

"Buffy’s gone."

Angel looked at her sharply. "What?"

Willow shrugged. "She’s gone."

"Okay. What do you mean by she’s gone?"

"She’s gone. She left. A new slayer came after Faith died and Buffy left."

"Wait a sec – how could she just leave?"

"She just did. I guess she thought that this slayer wasn’t as psychotic as

Faith was. Who knows? She certainly didn’t put too much thought into

leaving," she added in a bitter voice.

Angel waited for Willow to continue, but she simply stared at the floor. An

uncomfortable silence stretched between the two. The quiet was broken when

they heard the phone ring in the hallway. Angel went to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Angel? It’s Roy." Roy’s voice could barely be heard over the sound of

loud traffic in the background.

"Roy? Where are you?"

"I can’t tell you where I am, but I’m in a little bit of trouble. Um, if

this big guy named Andy knocks on your door, then tell him you don’t know

me. It’s –its a long story. Anyway, I’ll be back in about an hour, but I

just had to warn you. Don’t tell Cordelia what’s happening, though. She’ll

freak. Oh, and whatever you do, make sure that she doesn’t hit on him. I’m

dead if she does. You got that?"

"Uh, yeah. But Roy –"

"Sorry, man. Talk later. My quarter’s running out. Gotta go. Bye!"

The dial tone was heard.

Angel hung up the phone. Walking back to his room, he began to chuckle.

Willow’s eyes flickered up briefly. "What is it?" she asked. Angel explained

Roy’s situation, and a small smile crept to Willow’s face.

"He’s a real little trouble maker, isn’t he?" she asked, looking back to the

floor.

"He sure is," Angel said. "But he’s a damn good kid, that’s for sure."

"Yeah," Willow agreed softly. "His heart’s in the right place." She began to

giggle and Angel’s head shot up at the unexpected sound. She finally looked

up at him and Angel saw glimmers of the Willow he once knew in her eyes.

"A few days ago when I first met him, he was really nice to me. He, um, he

offered to steal some extra food for me." Willow smiled at the memory.

"He-he didn’t even know me, but he was so nice to me. It was like he

actually cared."

Angel smiled. "He did care. He still does. Back at the shelter he really

wanted you to be safe. He thinks you’re cute, too."

Willow looked pleased. "Really? Wow. It’s, um, it’s been a while since

someone called me that. Not since –" she broke off suddenly, her smile

fading. "So, um, how did –how did you meet Roy?" she asked.

Angel was confused at Willows sudden change of topic focus. It was obvious

that she didn’t want to talk about herself or the events leading up to her

arrival in L.A. He decided not to push Willow into giving answers. "Uh,

well, actually Cordelia met him first and she brought him to me. Man, was he

a tough kid. Wouldn’t trust anyone. But we got through to him. Eventually."

Willow smiled crookedly. "So, um, does he, uh . . . does he know about . . .

you?"

"Me? As in the vampire me? Yeah, he knows. Oddly enough, that knowing was

part of what brought him over to our side."

Willow stared at him. "So you just . . . told him?"

"Well, uh –no. I didn’t exactly *tell* him. More like . . . he found out.

Late one night, he followed me out, and I came across two vampires. There

was a fight and I staked them, but I had my game face on. Roy saw me like

that, and although he’ll never admit it, he turned and ran like there was no

tomorrow. I found him in Cordelia’s apartment, trying to convince her that I

was the devil or something. We managed to calm him down, and I wound up

telling him the whole sordid tale. I’m guessing that the only reason why Roy

stays with us, other than for Cordelia, is because he thinks the whole

‘vampire with a soul’ thing is cool." Angel shook his head. "He took it all

pretty well. I don’t regret telling him. You can’t have trust unless you

give it, so I guess that’s the deal with me and Roy."

Willow was speechless. "Well, I guess those really long sentences answered

my next four questions. I –I’m not used to hearing you talk so much. Or, at

all." She said.

Angel smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. Cordelia and Roy keep telling me not to be

so cryptic. So I’m trying to be more open."

Willow smiled sadly. "You’ve changed. That was one of the first things I

noticed about you. Like earlier, when you called me your friend. Before you

never would of allowed yourself the privilege of friendship. But now you do.

And you’re actually talking, like, you know, using more than four words in a

sentence.

"But I’m not the only one who’s changed." Angel said softly.

Willow stared at the floor and shook her head slightly. "No, you’re not,"

she whispered.

Angel’s smile faded. "So, are you hungry?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Um, a little," Willow replied. "But I really need to use your bathroom. Is

my black bag here?"

"It’s in the living room. I’ll go get it for you."

"Thanks."

Angel walked to the living room and picked up the bag. Taking the syringe

out, he noticed that there wasn’t much heroin left in it. < There’s only

about half an inch left > he thought. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to

be happy or sad about it.

By the time he reached his room, Willow was already halfway to the door,

taking small steps and leaning against a table to keep herself steady. He

handed her the bag and she edged slowly out of the room. He stared after

her, thinking. < She looks so lost. And sad. What could of happened to her?

And why drugs? Why did she - >

Angel realized that Willow was staring at him. "Angel?" she asked.

"Uh, yes?"

"Where’s the bathroom?"

Angel smiled in spite of his previous thoughts. "I’ll show you," he said. <

I’ll help you, Willow > he thought < I promise >.

Chapter Five

The air was unusually chilly. Shivering, Roy zipped up the front of his

jacket. Newspapers scattered on the ground were lifted and flung around in

the wind. A nearby streetlight flickered on and off as the occasional car

zoomed past them on the road.

"I’m cold." Cordelia complained.

Roy turned to look at her. She was dressed in a short-sleeved blue

turtleneck and black pants. "You should have brought a jacket," he said.

"What, and wreck my outfit? I don’t think so."

Roy sighed. "Do you want my jacket?"

Cordelia stared at him. "What is the matter with you? Your jacket is *tan

colored*. My top is *blue*. Total clash. I would rather freeze than look

like a fashion victim."

Roy shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"Here, take this then." An arm stretched around Cordelia holding a black

leather jacket.

Roy jumped, startled. He forgot that Angel was with them. The vampire had

been walking behind them, hidden in the shadows.

Cordelia looked at the jacket in his hand. "Are you serious? You want me to

look biker?"

"It’s either wear this or catch a cold. Choice is yours."

Cordelia sighed. "Fine," she grumbled, snatching the jacket. "At least it’s

black. It’ll match my pants."

Roy rolled his eyes. They walked in silence until the thief suddenly

stopped. "There he is." Roy said, pointing.

Angel looked in the direction where Roy was pointing. It was a run down

apartment block with spray-painted brick walls and a rusty entrance door.

"Okay," Angel said. "Let’s go in."

"Hold on." Cordelia’s voice brought them to a halt. "Why are we going in

there?"

"So I can meet the agent." Angel said.

The brunette frowned in confusion. "But why would an agent be in a place

like that?" She gestured to the building.

"Cordelia, he’s a drug dealer. They’re not exactly picky about –"

"Drug dealer?!" Cordelia almost shouted. "You brought me to a drug dealer?!"

Angel gave her a patient look. "We told you we were going to an agent. An

agent is a drug dealer."

Angel, when you said ‘agent’ I thought you meant for movies and stuff. There

is no way that I am going in there."

Angel shrugged. "Alright. You can wait out here while me and Roy talk to the

guy."

"Are you mental? I am NOT staying out here by myself and I am NOT letting

Roy go with you in there."

"Cordelia, I need Roy with me to show me who the guy is and to get

information out of him about Willow. You want to help her, don’t you?"

"Yeah, but that place looks so . . . not safe."

"Well, he would be more protected if you were in there with us." Angel said.

Cordelia shook her head. "No chance. Just *looking* at that place freaks me

out; I am not going in."

"Fine, then." Angel replied. "But if I were you, I’d try and blend in with

the shadows. These areas are nowhere near safe, and with the kind of people

in this neighborhood, some might mistake you for a, uh –" he lowered his

voice, "a hooker."

"Take that back!"

"Sorry," he apologized. "But I’m only looking out for you. I won’t be able

to protect you if some guys decide to pick you up. I mean, I can always

protect you if you were in there with us, but if you really want to stay out

here, all by yourself, in the dark, then it’s fine by me."

The former cheerleader glared hotly at him. The expression on her face was

dangerous and her tone venomous. "You suck."

"Thank you."

They walked to the door. Angel turned to Roy. "Let me do the talking, okay?"

he said. Roy nodded and lifted his hand and pushed the buzzer. A rough voice

answered. "Who is it?"

"Nobody." Roy said.

There was a pause. "Who is nobody?" the voice questioned.

"Nobody is who I am. So if you don’t like it, then I don’t give a stuff."

Roy emphasized the word ‘stuff’. It seemed to be a code and after another

pause, the buzzer beeped, allowing them in.

The condition inside the building was worse than outside. The wallpaper was

peeling and stairs were broken. Doors literally fell off the hinges from

heavy rust.

Roy led them up several flights of stairs and stopped in front of one of the

rooms. The door opened slightly and a man’s face peered out. "What do you

want?"

"You know what I want." Roy said.

"I ain’t got time for games, kid." The man said. "Go away." He began to shut

the door, but Angel’s arm reached out and blocked it.

"Wait."

The man blinked. It seemed as though Angel appeared from nowhere. "Hey, what

do you think you’re –"

"We just want to ask some questions." Angel said.

"You can ask all you like, but you’ll have to ask it to a door." The man

moved to push the door closed again but Angel’s arm was still in the way.

"It’s just a few questions." Angel repeated.

"I don’t want to answer no questions." The man snapped.

"We’ll pay you."

The man paused. "With what?"

"Money."

The man snorted. "Don’t need it. I got enough of it already."

"A new apartment?"

The man laughed harshly. "Why would I wanna go? This place is just fine."

"A big-screened television?"

"You’re wasting my time."

Angel was stuck. Roy knew he needed his help. Thinking quickly, the thief

grabbed Cordelia and pushed to face the agent. "You can have her."

Cordelia was outraged. "What the fu –"

"Roy, are you out of your mind?" Angel asked.

"How dare you –" Cordelia hissed.

"We can’t do that." Angel said.

"Actually, I might take you up on that offer." The man interrupted looking

appreciatively at Cordelia. "I like feisty ones."

Cordelia’s eyes flashed. Her mouth opened, ready to let loose with stinging

comments but Angel pushed her inside the apartment before she could assault

him. Once inside, they took a good look at the agent. He was a lean man with

long greasy hair pulled back into a ponytail. He looked at them cautiously,

his sharp eyes focusing on their every movement.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Information." Angel replied.

"On what?"

"A client of yours."

"I’m not a fucken sell and tell booth. I don’t have information."

Angel ignored the comment. "What do you know about Willow Rosenberg?"

"What are you, deaf? I don’t know anything."

Roy took a step forward. "What about this girl? You won’t get her till you

spill."

Behind him Cordelia stood fuming silently.

"Screw her." the man said. "I don’t need her anyway."

"Look," Angel said. "If you help us, then we’ll leave and you can pretend

like nothing ever happened."

"And if I don’t?"

Angel stepped closer to the agent. "Then we’ll leave with a few of your

teeth, maybe even an arm."

For a split second, the agent thought he saw the strangers face change,

creasing into ridges with golden eyes glaring at him. The change was so

quick that he wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not.

Silence enveloped the room. Roy swallowed nervously and his heart pounded

with worry. He had never seen Angel act this way before, never heard him

threaten anyone. Until now.

"So?" Angel asked. "What’ll it be?"

The agent swallowed. "Who’s the girl again?"

Angel almost smiled with relief. Then remembering the situation, he kept a

straight face. "Willow Rosenberg."

The agent frowned. "Willow . . . red hair, blue eyes?"

"Green eyes." Roy corrected. "Don’t you even know your clients?"

The agent ignored the boy. "Yeah, she came to me about three months ago. In

real need of some stuff. She was real jittery and all but she had this big

wad of cash with her. So I sold her as much as I thought she could handle.

The way she acted, it was like she wanted to do it, but something held her

back." He shook his head. "And her eyes . . they were dead. Like she been

scared to hell about something."

"What was it?" Angel asked.

"How am I supposed to know? I just sold it to her. Its not like I sat down

and had lunch with her."

"Like you would." Roy scoffed. "You’re too cheap to even buy lunch for

yourself."

"At least I don’t have to steal it." The agent retorted.

"Cool it." Angel said. He turned to the agent. "That’s it?"

"That’s all I know."

"Thanks." Angel turned to walk to the door but the agent called for him to

stop. Turning around, he saw the agent approach him with a paper bag.

"What’s this?" Angel asked.

"Heroin. You want answers, you get them from her. She’ll be needing this

stuff soon and there’s only half in them. That way, it won’t screw her

system."

Angel narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you doing this for her?"

"I ain’t doing nothing for her. I’m doing this for me. If she dies from an

OD, then I’m the one who gets the blame. Cops been after me for some time,

and a dead, drugged girl is the perfect excuse to put my in the cell."

"What makes you think the cop’s will trace it to you?"

The agent snorted. "Anyone with half a brain in this area knows what I do,

and when they match up my stuff to her blood, they’ll shove me in before you

can blink. If she’s down high, then she’ll tell YOU her story, and YOU will

have to bail me."

"Don’t count on it."

"Oh, I will count on it. You know that she’ll try to come to me, and if you

don’t play along, then I might just add a little something extra in the mix.

It won’t kill her, but it’ll be enough to fuck up her mind permanently. Now,

you wouldn’t want that, would you?"

Angel glared at him. "I’ll get you if you do."

"You won’t." the agent sneered. "You’ll put your fucken head on the line to

keep her safe. Now do you want this or not?"

Angel reached for the bag but the agent pulled it away. "This stuff don’t

come free, man."

Angel took out his wallet and paid the man. Taking the bag, he took a look

inside it. There were three syringes inside and as said by the agent, were

only half full.

As they walked outside of the apartment, Angel heard Cordelia yelp when the

agent slapped her rear end. She turned around to shout at him but found

herself staring at a door. She then turned to glare at Roy and Angel.

"HOW DARE YOU!" she shouted. "Both of you! You would actually hand me over

to him for a piece of lousy information? How insulting can you be?!"

The two males looked slightly ashamed. "You," she growled pointing at Roy,

"were willing to trade me for a piece of information, and you," she spat

pointing at Angel, "were willing to go along with him!"

"Sorry." Roy apologized.

"It was for Willow’s sake –" Angel began.

"And what about my sake? Angel, I WANT an apology."

Angel sighed.

"NOW."

"I’m sorry." Angel said grudgingly.

"You two SO owe me for this. First I get traded, then I get rejected.

Unbelievable." Cordelia grated. They walked out of the building and began to

head home in silence.

"The guy said that she looked kinda weird." Roy said, breaking the quiet

moment. "What do you think could of happened?"

"I don’t know. We won’t find out unless she wants to tell us. But first, we

have to calm her craving for this stuff." He indicated to the bag.

"You think she can handle it?"

"Yeah. She can stand it."

* *

Willow couldn’t stand it. The fire in her veins, the craving in her blood

called out for the one thing that would calm its need.

She was balled up on the couch, her knees drawn up to her chin. She had felt

better after her previous injection, but the effects of it didn’t last long.

She thought of different ways to go to her dealer, but the door was locked

form the outside and the windows were nailed shut.

Rocking back and forth she tried to shut out the voice in her head which had

tormented her for several months. The voice which constantly reminded her of

the attack that fateful night. Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head

to clear the voice.

< You failed > the voice said < You failed me, you failed Buffy and you

failed your parents >.

"Shut up!" she screamed. She stood up and stumbled across the room, as if to

get away from the voice.

< Look at you. Running away. Coward >.

"Go away!" she shrieked. Picking up a nearby vase, she threw it across the

room. It shattered against the wall.

< How pathetic can you be? How disappointing you are >.

"Leave me alone!" She turned over a coffee table.

< Failure >

"Shut up!"

< Coward >

"Stop it!"

< Killer >

"NO!" she screamed. "NONONONO!!! I’m not! I’m not! I’m not . . . " her

voice trailed off as she collapsed on a heap on the floor. By this time, the

room no longer resembled a living room; it looked more like a fight scene.

Tables were upturned, glass scattered on the floor, papers were everywhere

and in the center of it all, huddled a scared girl.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, again rocking back and forth. "I’m sorry . . .

I’m so sorry . . . I didn’t mean to . . . "

The voice stopped its taunting.

"I’m sorry you’re gone."

Chapter Six

Angel turned the key in the lock. It had been forty minutes since he left

the agents apartment and barely two minutes since he said goodbye to Roy and

Cordelia in the apartment downstairs. In that forty minutes, Angel’s mind

had been busy with an endless flow of thoughts. The agent had told him to

get the answers from Willow. How he got the answers was his problems. He

couldn’t just ask her straight off; he had to let her know that he knew of

her drug use. He had to let her know that he was in her side, and not

against. To let her know that he would support her in whatever ordeal she

was to face. In order to do that, he had to find out. But how would he find

out? How could he . . .

Angel’s thoughts came to an abrupt stop when he took in the scene before

him. Tables and chairs lay on their sides, books, once on shelves, now were

thrown across the room, glass littered the floor, and pieces of smashed

lamps and vases covered shelves. Though Angel did not have much furniture in

the room, the damage made it seem like he had much more than he believed.

Closing the door quickly, Angel bolted to the bedroom in search of Willow.

He threw open the door, but saw no sign of her. Frenzied thoughts sped

through his mind as he raced to each room of the apartment. Simple furniture

was easily replaced; a human life was not. Ripping open the bathroom door,

he closed his eyes in relief when he saw Willow crouched on the floor with

her arms wrapped around her knees. Her eyes were closed and her lips were

moving as if she was chanting something.

Angel knelt down beside her and gently shook her arm. Her eyes shot open and

she stared into space, unaware of the person shaking her arm.

"Willow?"

She blinked several times and turned her head to look at the vampire.

"Angel?" she whispered.

"Willow, are you alright?"

"I – where am I?" she asked, dazed.

"You’re in my apartment." Angel replied slowly.

"Your apart – oh . . . I can’t – I – I –"

"What happened, Willow?"

"I – I . . . it – it hurt, Angel . . . it hurt so much."

"What hurt?" Angel asked.

"My head . . . my mind . . . inside me still hurts . . . " her voice trailed

off.

"Why does it hurt?" Angel asked softly.

"Because . . . I – I . . . it needs . . . something . . ."

"What does it need?"

"I – I can’t say . . . " her voice grew softer.

"Why not?"

"I – I – I can’t, Angel."

"Why not? Please, Willow. Tell me what it is." Angel pleaded.

Willow worked her mouth but no sound came out. A tear slipped down her cheek

and she looked away. "I can’t say it Angel." her voice broke. "I can’t."

Angel looked down. "It’s okay, Willow," he said softly. "You don’t have to

say anything." Then without saying another word, he handed her the paper

bag. Looking inside the bag, Willow’s eyes widened. Her face was filled with

confusion when she looked back at Angel. "How did you – "

Angel took out a syringe and held it out to Willow. Taking the bag back, he

looked her in the eye.

"If you take this, then you’ll have to tell me what’s going on. I need you

to tell me about whatever it is that is making you hurt so much. I want to

help you Willow; I’m here for you. If you don’t want to take this, then you

don’t have to tell me anything. It’s up to you."

Willow bit her lip, pondering which path to take. Angel waited pensively and

prayed she would take the drug. He didn’t plan for things to turn out this

way, but he had already said the words and it was too late to take them

back. Slowly, Willow’s hand reached out to take the syringe, her eyes

downcast. Angel’s emotions were torn in two. Half of him was glad that she

took the syringe as it meant that she would eventually tell her secret, but

the other half was devastated that she was giving in to her addiction.

Standing up, Angel walked to the door and opened it. Before he walked out,

he turned around to look at Willow. She was still sitting on the floor, her

hands holding the syringe.

"You don’t have to tell me right away." Angel said. "Just tell me when

you’re ready."

He walked out and closed the door. Closing his eyes, he leaned against a

wall. < That was really dumb of me to do that. What if she hadn’t taken it?

>. Shaking his head, he walked back to what was left of the living room. <

But she did take it. And maybe she’ll be alright. I hope >.

* *

Willow stared at the syringe. She couldn’t believe that Angel knew. She

should of expected him to find out though. But what she couldn’t believe was

that she agreed to tell him everything. She couldn’t go through with that.

He was one of the only friends she had left, and she couldn’t bear to lose

another.

< But I can’t keep it all in > she thought < All this guilt is eating me

alive >.

But then again . . .

How was he going to react when he found out that she was responsible for

someone’s death?

She closed her eyes at the memory. Blinking away tears she took a deep

breath. She couldn’t think of that right now. Right now she needed her

release. Her peace.

She needed her savior.

* *

Cordelia paced the room. Thoughts were whirling around in her head and she

couldn’t figure out which one to listen to.

"Will you stop that?" Roy asked irritably. "It’s getting annoying."

"Then go into another room."

"I can’t. This is the living room. I sleep in here, remember?"

"Yeah, well then tough for you. Walking helps me think."

"You actually think? There’s something new."

Cordelia glared at him and continued pacing.

"What if she’s telling him right now?" she murmured. "Then he’ll try to be

all helpful, and it’ll screw everything up."

Roy frowned. "How does that come about?"

"Well, he might try to get her to change to another agent, and then

everything will be ruined . . . I can’t let that happen."

"I don’t get it," Roy said. "Why didn’t you tell him earlier?"

"I couldn’t. It wasn’t the right time to tell."

"Yeah? And when is the right time? When we’re both dead?"

Cordelia gave him an exasperated look. "No. I’ll tell him. Just not now.

It’s way too early to tell him."

"Yeah, well you better hope he doesn’t find out some other way."

"He won’t." Cordelia said. "I’ll make sure he hears it from me?" < I just

hope he understands why >.