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chapter fourteen - truth in hell

The Zeklar demon was rolled up in a tight fleshy ball in the corner of its cell when Angel opened the iron doors. It didn't look up when he walked in. Didn't even flinch when he sat down on the cot. But as Angel leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasping slowly, the demon retreated into itself, appearing to tighten into a denser ball.

No taller than Spike when standing, the Zeklar clearly wasn't a giant, but it could be very wide or very round or very something else all together. Angel had seen Zeklars alter their appearance numerous times when he was in hell. Now he watched this beast's flesh tighten and stick to the grotesque curves of its body while limp skin pushed through its many crevices. Angel winced and turned his head. He'd seen plenty of monstrous sights in his time and caused quite a few more, but this was different. He knew what this beast was. What its kind could do – and what it had done. He'd seen it with his own eyes. He closed them now, remembering, and felt his stomach churn.

Angel opened his eyes as he spoke. “How'd you get through the portal of Kaluptein Ranza?” He used the Zeklars name for the passageway between dimensions. Solemnly, the creature adjusted its form, unfolding partially from its protective shell, an eye peering through the flesh, seeking out Angel's gaze.

Disgusted, Angel kicked the Zeklar sharply then immediately drew back his foot, ready to deliver another sharp blow. The beast flinched. Forget torture, Angel thought. An old-fashioned ass kicking might well be all that was needed to break the beast's silence.

“Was it the ring?” Angel decided to test his theory about the claddagh ring as he looked at the beast's eyeball buried in rolled flesh.

“Aw…you've said so much for such a taciturn demon,” replied the Zeklar, uncoiling into a sitting position.

Angel's stomach clenched. So, that was it. “The ring helped you get through the portal?”

“No, it's how Lilith got through,” said the Zeklar, its voice making a deep guttural sound. “Her magic reached out to the ring's power and when the portal opened, she was able to pass.”

“The ring's power?” He sighed, recalling the night he'd given the ring to Buffy hours before losing his soul in Angelus. Buffy had been his first love – whether man or demon – he'd never loved before her. Angelus hadn't either – and they both feared being consumed by the power of this rare emotion. Not even Angelus could ignore it. He just expressed it differently than Angel. The only difference between the un-souled and the soul was style. Angelus battled love and buried it in Acathla's hell. Angel cradled love and left it with Buffy when she drove the sword through him.

Angel was remembering who he had been in Acathla's hell. He was a warrior, the king of the L'Quaratong tribe of Wiccans, battling at the side of his beloved Lilith for a thousand years. Brutal combat, endless suffering, losing all they fought for, but in love longer than love existed, or so he had believed. Was that the power of the ring? He wondered. Did it hold the power to control love, selfless, complete and utter love? But he'd left the ring with Buffy. Then he found it later abandoned on the floor of the mansion.

“The ring's power is love,” said Angel, no longer phrasing it as a question.

“Yes, Angel, the ring pulled Lilith through the portal first. I simply followed.”

“You came with her…why?”

“It was my destiny, to deliver that message,” it replied. “To warn your world about their existence and their plan to unite.”

“If they unite, it will destroy this world,” said Angel wearily. “Doesn't Lilith realize that when it all comes together, it will all blow apart?”

“No, she doesn't,” said the Zeklar matter-of-factly. “Of course, her sister Color, your Buffy, only needs to destroy Charm and Beauty, to save your world,” it snickered.

“Fred…and Spike. She has to kill them?” Angel looked up at the ceiling of the cell. Now he understood the Zeklar's plan. “You win either way. The Seven Wiccas will be destroyed, by meeting or not meeting. That's why you delivered the message. You wanted us to know so that we'd make certain they'd come together in this world or be destroyed trying.”

“Yes.”

“You…are, as always…a monster.” Angel stepped closer to the demon, clenched fists held rigidly at his side.

“Yes…we both are,” it replied, reshaping instantly into a form resembling Spike, blue eyes blazing into Angel's.

Angel reached forward, grabbed the Zeklar by the throat with one hand, and drove his fist through its skull.

“Yes, we are both monsters.” Angel held the dead body that had looked like Spike by the throat for a moment before dropping it to the floor. Then he turned and walked out of the cell, closing the door behind him.


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“I started a journey in one direction, traveling far and long…unconcerned with the passing of time. Ultimately, I knew that I would return to my starting point,” said Lilith, arms folded over her chest as she floated above her spot in the dirt. “We are close to the beginning and the end of our journey, my sisters. I sense that Color is near.”

Willow and Lilith had been talking for what seemed like hours. But it could have been a day, a week, or only moments. Time was just that weird down here in hell, thought Willow . She could barely concentrate with the blackness, the stars and the being at the bottom of hell and all. It was tough to think. Besides, if Lilith was telling the truth, Buffy would arrive soon anyway. And that would be of the bad. ‘Course that would mean more than bad, it would pretty much mean the end of the world – again. Willow sighed, wishing she were just plain old Willow from Sunnydale. But Sunnydale was gone – as was that old Willow, she feared.

She looked at the thousand pieces of light that sparkled all around her, combining to keep the four women in the same spot on their points in the dirt. Fred was silent and staring, but Willow could sense she was still alert. Lillie appeared to be little more than a ghost. Lilith was preening with pleasure in anticipation. No point in losing faith now, thought Willow . There had to be something she could do. Then she recalled there had been something back at Wolfram and Hart. Something she needed to remember.

“Great news about Color on the way, Sis,” started Willow. “But I thought there were seven Wiccas needed for this power boost you require, not five.”

“We do not need Truth and Beauty to begin.”

Damn, thought Willow. She'd hoped that the mysterious twosome would be needed to jump-start the big bang theory - unless Lilith was lying. But she didn't seem the sort to resort to lies, so Willow probed further. “We can return to Zek without them?”

“No, they are necessary for our return, just not required to begin our journey,” replied Lilith.

Willow considered her response. Most likely, they were nearby, which meant that since everything had started at Wolfram & Hart, they were somewhere in Los Angeles. Yeah, that's good, she thought. Brain beginning to work again. But there was still something – something she'd forgotten. She pondered. Had something to do with...

“Do Truth and Beauty have the ring?” she asked Lilith, suddenly remembering what she'd been seeking before the Noise made its appearance at Wolfram and Hart.

“T-The ring?” Lilith swayed unevenly, her voice hesitating for an instant. “I was the first one through the portal, and I placed my essence in that ring. It stands for love, devotion, and friendship. It was our beacon to this dimension.”

“You didn't answer my question,” snarled Willow, hiding her panic as she left the ground and was standing on air, looking directly into Lilith's eyes. “Does either Truth or Beauty have the ring?”

“One of them does.”

“Will that one bring it to us?'”

“No, neither one of them will bring it here.”

“Then we must send Fred to get it,” said Willow matter-of-factly.

Lilith tilted her head, looking at Willow as if examining her soul. “You believe we need it to return to Zek, my sister?”

“I believe it will make our trip easier, if we have it,” Willow replied.

“You've always been powerful. Your wisdom never doubted. I will do as you suggest, and release Fred. But her essence will remain here only her physical form will travel to retrieve it.”

Suddenly Fred stepped away from Fred. That was the best way Willow could describe it. She was there but she was also standing over there. She looked confused, too. Good, thought Willow. Not just me up for a bit of who's on first.

"Willow," Fred started to speak. "What's happening?"

"You are free, kind of," said Willow. "Go find–?" She paused, realizing she didn't know who Beauty or Truth was. She looked at Lilith. "Who is she looking for...Angel?"

"No, she must find the one called Spike," said Lilith. "He is Beauty. Angel is Truth."

Willow watched as Fred disappeared.


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Spike swung his legs to the floor and sat up, shuddering as his hands roamed over his naked chest and thighs. He could feel Buffy's sweat and sex still moist on his skin. He groaned, swallowing back tears and anger. He should've known that Buffy really wasn't interested in making love with him. Should've been able to recognize that she'd been under some kind of spell. Had to be. Bloody hell, he'd been under a spell, too. Why else would he untie her? He knew she wanted only to get to the other Wiccas. He'd known that, hadn't he? Then why didn't she just get up and leave? He wondered. Why'd she let him touch her? Why'd she touch him?

Too much, too much, it was all too much. Too much love, too much pain, too much Buffy.

“Bollocks, A-Angel, what the h-hell?” Spike stammered; yanked abruptly from his painful reverie, he hadn't sensed Angel return.

”Where's Buffy, Spike?” Angel seemed to ignore Spike's nakedness as he surveyed the room, eyes squinted nealy shut, nostrils snorting air harshly an instant before he stopped looking for a possibily hiding Buffy to glare at Spike. He couldn't get a handle on her scent, wagered Spike. Angel must have figured out she was not only out of the room or even just out of the building - she was no longer in Earth's dimension.

“Gone,” Spike whipsered, jerking a hand across his face to wipe the tears away before Angel noticed.

“Did you fuck her?” Angel asked.

“Well, I believe we fucked each other,” growled Spike, his voice low and raspy.

“Damn you,” Angel's eyes glistened with flecks of yellow, but he remained in th doorway. “Now is not the time for us to get into this. Get dressed.” He reached down, picking up a pair of black jeans from the floor.

Spike stood up, grabbing the jeans out of the air as Angel tossed them to him.

“If she reaches the others, it will be the end of the world, again.”

“Yeah, knew that. Just something happened. Couldn't stop myself from untying her. Couldn't stop myself…from…” Spike paused, and picked up his shirt from the floor.

Angel frowned. "You really are in love with her." Angel's voice was flat as he shifted his gaze to look away from Spike. “You know I love her, too.”

“Yeah.”

“If she can't reach the other Wiccas. If she does, the world will end.”

“Bloody hell, I know that.”

“Spike,” Angel sighed as he looked down at his feet before meeting Spike's eyes. “If I stop her, she'll either be dead or on her way to find you and Fred.”

“What do you mean?”

“You're part of this madness, too. You are Beauty…Okay, maybe not to me, but to the Seven Wiccas, you are the magic number six. And Buffy can save the world if she kills you and Fred.”

Spike sat down on the bed, his back stiff, legs weak. He didn't want to drop to his knees in front of Angel. Wouldn't be at all manly. He didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to think. Angel had just told him that he was going after Buffy to stop her, or send her back to him to… “I won't hurt her, Angel. If you can't stop her. I won't stop her.”

“She'll kill you, and then she'll go after Fred. Do you want Fred to die?”

Spike looked up.

“Damn you, Angel.”

“Yeah, damn us all."


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