Sighing, Buffy walked out of the hotel room and down the stairs, paying for her room before leaving once again, ignoring the pull she felt in the opposite direction of where she was headed. The further she got from Sunnydale, the better off she would be.
With that in mind, she decided that despite the soothing quality of just walking perhaps a bus or another train would be better. It would get her further away, sooner, after all. She suddenly stopped walking down the street as waves of images began to fill her mind. Flashing by quickly and gone with almost as much speed.
Doubling over, she reached one hand out and grabbed onto the nearest solid thing her hand felt, shocked at the violence and brutality of the images which had just violated her mind. She knew with utter certainty that those images couldn't possibly have come from her own imagination.
"You alright?" a young woman asked. Buffy looked up to see that the solid thing she'd latched onto was in actuality the woman, who looked familiar, although Buffy couldn't place her exactly.
"Fine," she answered, nodding her head at the pretty woman. "Just felt a little dizzy, that's all."
"Don't lie," the woman said quietly. "You're not doing at all fine, and you know it."
"What?" Buffy gasped, startled. "Who are you?"
"Melody," the woman answered, and suddenly Buffy remembered; the girl, the girl on the train with the fiance. "I'm a friend of Whistler's," she continued. "Same type, too, if you're interested."
Buffy sighed and straightened, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "What do you want?" she asked harshly.
"Nothing," Melody answered quietly. "Except to help."
"I don't need your help," Buffy replied, angrily, beginning to head down the street.
"Yes, you do," Melody said, hurrying to catch up with the Slayer. "Things are happening that you don't know about, things you need to know about."
"Well, then why don't you tell me?" Buffy asked, stopping and turning back to the black-haired woman.
Melody sighed heavily. "I wish I could just tell you," she told Buffy gently. "Unfortunately I can't. It's not my place."
"Then what do you think you can do for me?" Buffy retorted, uncertain why she was even bothering to remain and speak with her.
Melody shrugged. "Listen," she answered quietly. "You need to realize what you're doing to yourself. And maybe talking would help."
"There's a reason why I left Sunnydale," Buffy said angrily. "Because I want to be alone. Is that such a hard concept to grasp?"
Melody closed her eyes for a moment. "Lie to me, if you want, but don't lie to yourself. You want to go back, you just don't know how. If you want my help I'll be around. If not, then I hope you can live with the consequences."
"What consequences? Why should I trust you when you won't tell me anything?"
"I can't prove to you I'm trustworthy," Melody admitted. "It's all a matter of faith."
"Faith?" Buffy repeated.
Melody smiled. "Your heart will tell you if you can trust me. You just need to listen to it." With another soft smile Melody turned and left the Slayer alone.
Giles had been researching throughout the entire night and day with little to no success. He'd found a way to break the bond, several ways, in fact, but all of them required that both parties be present. He couldn't quite believe he hadn't realized the true connection between Buffy and Angel earlier.
"Giles," Cordelia said, walking into the library and interrupting his work, "We have a really serious problem."
Giles couldn't keep himself from muttering, "Another one?" under his breath as he looked up at her. "What?" he asked with a sigh as he shut the book in front of him.
"Xander's gone with Angel," she said, sitting down on one of the chairs surrounding the table. "He called me from a hotel room a half hour ago."
"What?" Giles repeated, gasping as he rose from his own seat. "But that's crazy, they'll end up killing each other!"
"That's what I said," Cordelia agreed with a slight frown. "But they've at least made it out of Sunnydale. Xander said Angel dropped him off at the hotel, then went somewhere else for the day." Cordy shook her head in worry. "Why do I get the feeling we're not going to see either one of them again?"
Giles' mind was far from Cordelia's worries, however. "Did he give you a number or the name of the hotel where he was staying?"
"Nope," Cordelia replied with a shrug; then jumped when Giles banged his hand on the table in frustration.
"Damn it," Giles cursed angrily.
"Calm," Cordy said with an upraised eyebrow.
"Sorry," Giles murmured in her direction unapologetically. "If he calls you again tell him to tell Angel to call me immediately. There's something urgent he must know."
"What?" Cordy asked with a slight frown.
Giles decided there was no reason for her, or any of the others, for that matter, to have anything else to worry about. "I just need to speak with him," Giles covered.
Cordelia looked more than a little skeptical, but shrugged and stood, giving a slight wave before leaving Giles to his research.
Xander waited impatiently for Angel outside of the hotel, drinking a can of soda and wondering what was taking the vampire so long considering that the sun had set a half hour ago. He suspiciously speculated that perhaps Angel had decided to leave him at the hotel and go find Buffy on his own, and he couldn't help but curse himself for trusting the vampire to return.
Just as he was about to storm inside to furiously call someone and ask them to pick him up, the rent-a-car pulled up in front of the hotel. Xander opened the car door and got in, the day spent sleeping having made him forget all of Angel's words of warning from the night before. "What the hell took you so long?"
Angel glared at him as he pulled out of the parking lot with a lot more speed than was legally allowed. "I came, didn't I?" he retorted. "Believe me, I was tempted not to."
Xander fell silent and stared out the window for awhile, but after an hour had passed without another word being said he began to get bored and reached over, turning on the radio. Immediately the sounds of Sarah McLachlan began to fill the car.
now all you've been allowed
is taken away, they will not let you
be so proud, you have felt the fear
growing inside . . .
Angel reached over and shut off the radio firmly before returning his attention to the road. Xander glared at him before turning it back on.
they'll see how long it will take till you
fall from so much denied
Your soul it aches relentless for
the fear that they will never guess . . .
Once again Angel shut off the radio. "Touch it again and you'll be proved right," Angel warned Xander firmly.
"What do you mean?" Xander asked, confused.
"With soul, without soul, no difference, I'll still kill you," Angel clarified, stopping the car at a red light.
Xander decided the radio wasn't worth it, but still couldn't help himself from asking, "What's the big deal?"
Angel glared at him for a moment, then shrugged. "I hate Sarah McLachlan," he admitted darkly.
From the tone of his voice Xander figured it would be best to just let the entire subject drop.
Buffy stared out the window of her hotel room, trying to ignore her mind, which had recently seemed to be working against her. Everytime she thought she had a handle on things, everytime she thought she could make it through being alone, her mind would give her images. Not the same images she'd had before, of violence, blood, and pain, but images of her friends. Of Giles researching, of Willow sitting at her computer, Xander making some lame joke, Cordelia saying something so incredibly ditzy that everyone couldn't help but roll their eyes. Only Angel remained firmly locked from her memories, at least that was something to be grateful for.
Sighing, she turned away from the window and turned on the televison, flipping through the channels and trying to ignore her mind as it continued with flashes of her life at Sunnydale High. Groaning, she stood and began to pace back and forth in frustration, trying to tell herself that it wasn't worth thinking about, that her memories weren't important, that her old life was behind her. Still, her resolutions did nothing to stop her mind from whirling.
Suddenly, without cause, she felt ill and reached her hand out, gripping the table to try and keep herself from falling over. There were no images this time, only feelings, feelings so overwhelming Buffy thought she would be sick. The only thing that kept her sane was that they were diluted, as though trapped beneath a glass wall; she could sense them, yet they weren't truly there. The Slayer took several deep breaths, trying to regain some sense of herself. She could so easily find herself becoming lost within the feelings. The vibrations of trapped emotions seemed to call to her, beckon her in some strange way she could neither explain nor ignore.
Almost as suddenly as the feelings had begun they stopped, leaving Buffy shaking as she sank down to her knees. There was no logical explanation for this, nothing that she could use to try and force what had just occurred from her mind. The temptation to call Giles, beg him to explain what was happening to her was almost as overwhelming as the sensations that had just left her. She knew the Watcher could make it all go away, or at the very least give her something to latch onto, to keep her sane.
With an almost supreme effort of will she resisted the temptation, and slowly rose to her feet, shutting off the televison with one hand while still latching onto the table with the other. She made her way over towards the bed, and sank down into it, not even bothering with the covers or pillow. Just lying down and closing her eyes helped, made what had just occurred seem less real, more like some strange delusion. She only hoped that was the case as she snuggled down into the bed, knowing that at least in the torments of sleep the sensation wouldn't haunt her.
Angel swerved quickly towards the side of the road, hearing Xander say something but unable to make it out due to the sudden, foreign emotions running through him. There was so much pain, so much grief, and so much loneliness . . . he shook his head, desperate to clear it away, and unsure where it was coming from. A few moments passed as Angel waited for the roaring in his head to die down, and finally disappear. Dimly he was aware that Xander was still saying something, more like yelling something about how he was trying to get him killed, but Angel found he didn't have the strength to reply. Whatever had just occurred, it was more than just a hallucination, of that he was absolutely certain. He felt completely and totally exhausted.
"What time is it?" Angel asked, glancing up at Xander and still trying to clear his head.
Xander blinked, his mouth open, and Angel realized he'd cut Xander off mid- tirade with his question. After a moment of silence, in which Xander tried to regain his composure, he finally answered, "Three thirty."
Angel bit the inside of his lip as he thought. He didn't think he could drive another two hours, not after what had just occurred. But on the other hand, every minute they lost could be driving Buffy further away, and making it that much harder to catch up to her. Closing his eyes, Angel tried to push down his exhaustion, at the very least until they could find a hotel room. Then he forced himself to shove all his fatigue away entirely, Buffy was what was important, and not what Angel assumed were more side effects from the few days he'd spent with the damned; he didn't think it could have anything to do with the bond between himself and Buffy, he'd adjusted to what that was like, and this latest experience was at least twenty times more powerful.
He started the car and pulled back onto the road, ignoring Xander's babbling entirely, as he knew he didn't have the strength to deal with him. Again Xander turned on the radio to fill the silence, but since a Sarah McLachlan song wasn't playing Angel didn't mind; it at the very least kept Xander from talking. Angel pressed down on the gas peddle, determined to get as far as he could before he collapsed entirely.
Another hour passed, and when Giles looked up he realized it was already five in the morning. Knowing there was a small chance Xander or Angel might call the library, however, he was reluctant to leave. Sighing, he wished desperately that Buffy, at the very least, would call. She had to know what was going on, at least Angel had the vaguest idea, although Giles knew he was nowhere near prepared for the true depths of the connection between them combined with the binding ritual they had performed so hastily two nights prior.
He stood and sighed heavily, shaking his head as he thought about everything that had changed since the night Buffy and Angel had made love. It seemed as though that one act, which should have been private and deeply meaningful for them both, had instead caused the entire support system Buffy had formed around her to collapse. First with Angel's transformation, then Xander's rage at her inability to kill him, then Jenny's death, then what Buffy viewed as her betrayal of Angel, and now this to top it all off. Giles couldn't help but wonder if even the smallest semblance of normalacy could ever be regained. Their perfect little house of cards was collapsing, and he had no idea if he would be able to fix it in time.