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Chapter 2
They sat in Angel’s office, two beaten, depressed, exhausted Champions of the People who didn’t feel much like Champions anymore. They felt old. They felt every year weigh on their hearts. They felt like failures. Blood and bourbon sat between them on the desk, two stained glasses, a pack of cigarettes. When Angel reached for one, Spike wasn’t surprised.
“Three times now,” Angel finally said.
“Yeah.”
“It doesn’t get easier.”
“No.”
“I don’t think we’re in hell.”
“Feels like it,” Spike said around his own cigarette.
“Yeah,” Angel agreed, “it feels like it. I’ve asked around and nobody--”
“Remembers living this day already. Yeah, I know.”
“Well, somebody should be able to figure something out…I mean, we have the resources at our disposal,” Angel pointed out.
“Right, but when would we have time to use those resources? It seems like our day begins right when Fred discovers the sarcophagus. And then everybody is wrapped up in trying to save her.”
“We’re not going to be able to fix this until we know what’s wrong.”
“I think we both know what’s wrong.”
“What?” Angel asked.
“Fred. Or nerds.”
“What? What about nerds?”
“Buffy was once stuck in a loop…those hers was only for 15 minutes, not an entire day…Found out later the nerds were responsible.”
“I don’t think that has anything to do with this, Spike.”
“Oh, you’re probably right.” Spike took several gulps from the booze. “Which means it’s probably about Fred.”
“Maybe she wasn’t supposed to die.”
“So we save her and that’s it? Everything goes back to normal?”
Angel shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Though I think we should sing for Lorne.”
“No.”
“Spike…come on.”
“I don’t sing.”
“You used to sing all the time.”
“I don’t sing anymore,” Spike explained sullenly.
“Well, too bad.” Angel wasn’t very sympathetic, and he wasn’t in the mood to put up with Spike’s contrary nature. If they wanted to get out of this mess, they had to work together.
“How can we save her, though?” Spike asked. “I mean, if we could have saved her, we would have.”
“Maybe there’s something we didn’t think of. Or something we didn’t know about. Maybe we have to sacrifice the world for her…I don’t know.”
“You willing to do that?”
“If that’s what we have to do,” Angel stated.
“Well, what’s a thousand more innocent lives or so in the face of what we’ve done?”
“Damnit Spike, now isn’t the time for--”
“Hey,” he said, grounding out his cigarette, “I’m serious. It seems a relatively small sacrifice to make, doesn’t it?”
“They’re lives. People with lives. Not a small sacrifice,” Angel snapped.
“Look, I don’t think we have a choice. We can sit here and debate it all night, but when it comes down to it we have to do what we have to do,” Spike said as reasonably as possible.
“We don’t know we have to do that.”
“What is wrong with you?”
Angel jumped to his feet and reached for one of the swords on the wall behind his desk. “We should get Lorne in here now.”
“Great plan, ‘cept we don’t know where Kermit is.”
“He never came back?”
Spike shook his head. “I imagine he’s off somewhere, drinking himself into an oblivion.”
“Let’s find him then.”
“Right, we have all the time in the world to check every single bar and club in the Los Angeles area.”
“He has a few regular places…”
“He won’t want to go anywhere that reminds him of Fred.”
“If only we didn’t waste so much time…Why does it take so long to remember?”
Spike shrugged. “Maybe because we weren’t expecting it. Maybe it’s because of the magic.”
“If we can’t get around that, we won’t be able to stop her in time.”
“Right. We already established that.”
“So maybe we shouldn’t try. Maybe we should just go straight to England as soon as we remember. We never get there in time either.”
Spike nodded. “Right. Ok.”
Angel sank to his chair and Spike reached for another cigarette. The silence was only broken by the click of Spike’s lighter and the soft clink of glass hitting glass as Angel poured himself a drink. Pure habit mostly, because the cigarette didn’t calm Spike’s nerves, and he could tell that the alcohol was doing nothing for Angel.
It occurred to both of them that maybe this had nothing to do with saving Fred. Spike’s idea about the nerds may not have been so off base. Angel had powerful enemies and Illyria had…
“She’s got power over time,” Angel muttered.
“Illyria?”
“Yeah.”
“You think she’s doing this to us?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything, Spike. That’s why we need to get Lorne.”
“So what’s the plan for tomorrow? Hightail it to England or wait for Lorne to read us?”
Angel considered the pool of amber liquid at the bottom of his glass for a long time before answering. Spike was happy to defer to Angel on this one, follow his lead. He had a gut feeling that he would have plenty of time to second-guess Angel and come up with his own plans later.
Things were probably much more complicated than either one of them could imagine.
“I used to dream for an opportunity like this,” Spike admitted softly. “A chance to do it over. A chance to get it right.”
“Me too.”
“It’s nothing like I thought it would be. Harder.”
“Can’t watch her die again, Spike.”
“We won’t.”
They sat in Angel’s office, two beaten, depressed, exhausted Champions of the People who didn’t feel much like Champions anymore. They felt old. They felt every year weigh on their hearts. They felt like failures. Blood and bourbon sat between them on the desk, two stained glasses, a pack of cigarettes. When Angel reached for one, Spike wasn’t surprised.
“Three times now,” Angel finally said.
“Yeah.”
“It doesn’t get easier.”
“No.”
“I don’t think we’re in hell.”
“Feels like it,” Spike said around his own cigarette.
“Yeah,” Angel agreed, “it feels like it. I’ve asked around and nobody--”
“Remembers living this day already. Yeah, I know.”
“Well, somebody should be able to figure something out…I mean, we have the resources at our disposal,” Angel pointed out.
“Right, but when would we have time to use those resources? It seems like our day begins right when Fred discovers the sarcophagus. And then everybody is wrapped up in trying to save her.”
“We’re not going to be able to fix this until we know what’s wrong.”
“I think we both know what’s wrong.”
“What?” Angel asked.
“Fred. Or nerds.”
“What? What about nerds?”
“Buffy was once stuck in a loop…those hers was only for 15 minutes, not an entire day…Found out later the nerds were responsible.”
“I don’t think that has anything to do with this, Spike.”
“Oh, you’re probably right.” Spike took several gulps from the booze. “Which means it’s probably about Fred.”
“Maybe she wasn’t supposed to die.”
“So we save her and that’s it? Everything goes back to normal?”
Angel shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Though I think we should sing for Lorne.”
“No.”
“Spike…come on.”
“I don’t sing.”
“You used to sing all the time.”
“I don’t sing anymore,” Spike explained sullenly.
“Well, too bad.” Angel wasn’t very sympathetic, and he wasn’t in the mood to put up with Spike’s contrary nature. If they wanted to get out of this mess, they had to work together.
“How can we save her, though?” Spike asked. “I mean, if we could have saved her, we would have.”
“Maybe there’s something we didn’t think of. Or something we didn’t know about. Maybe we have to sacrifice the world for her…I don’t know.”
“You willing to do that?”
“If that’s what we have to do,” Angel stated.
“Well, what’s a thousand more innocent lives or so in the face of what we’ve done?”
“Damnit Spike, now isn’t the time for--”
“Hey,” he said, grounding out his cigarette, “I’m serious. It seems a relatively small sacrifice to make, doesn’t it?”
“They’re lives. People with lives. Not a small sacrifice,” Angel snapped.
“Look, I don’t think we have a choice. We can sit here and debate it all night, but when it comes down to it we have to do what we have to do,” Spike said as reasonably as possible.
“We don’t know we have to do that.”
“What is wrong with you?”
Angel jumped to his feet and reached for one of the swords on the wall behind his desk. “We should get Lorne in here now.”
“Great plan, ‘cept we don’t know where Kermit is.”
“He never came back?”
Spike shook his head. “I imagine he’s off somewhere, drinking himself into an oblivion.”
“Let’s find him then.”
“Right, we have all the time in the world to check every single bar and club in the Los Angeles area.”
“He has a few regular places…”
“He won’t want to go anywhere that reminds him of Fred.”
“If only we didn’t waste so much time…Why does it take so long to remember?”
Spike shrugged. “Maybe because we weren’t expecting it. Maybe it’s because of the magic.”
“If we can’t get around that, we won’t be able to stop her in time.”
“Right. We already established that.”
“So maybe we shouldn’t try. Maybe we should just go straight to England as soon as we remember. We never get there in time either.”
Spike nodded. “Right. Ok.”
Angel sank to his chair and Spike reached for another cigarette. The silence was only broken by the click of Spike’s lighter and the soft clink of glass hitting glass as Angel poured himself a drink. Pure habit mostly, because the cigarette didn’t calm Spike’s nerves, and he could tell that the alcohol was doing nothing for Angel.
It occurred to both of them that maybe this had nothing to do with saving Fred. Spike’s idea about the nerds may not have been so off base. Angel had powerful enemies and Illyria had…
“She’s got power over time,” Angel muttered.
“Illyria?”
“Yeah.”
“You think she’s doing this to us?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything, Spike. That’s why we need to get Lorne.”
“So what’s the plan for tomorrow? Hightail it to England or wait for Lorne to read us?”
Angel considered the pool of amber liquid at the bottom of his glass for a long time before answering. Spike was happy to defer to Angel on this one, follow his lead. He had a gut feeling that he would have plenty of time to second-guess Angel and come up with his own plans later.
Things were probably much more complicated than either one of them could imagine.
“I used to dream for an opportunity like this,” Spike admitted softly. “A chance to do it over. A chance to get it right.”
“Me too.”
“It’s nothing like I thought it would be. Harder.”
“Can’t watch her die again, Spike.”
“We won’t.”