The Aftermath
Angel sat, staring at the bottle of whiskey before him. He’d managed to pour some for himself, not even realizing he was going through the motions. The only thing in his eyes was Max’s motionless body. All the blood, it still permeated his senses. He didn’t know how he’d made it home. Like an animal running in pain and fear, he’d returned to his den to lick his wounds. But he knew there was no way he could ever forget staring at the woman he’d come to care for, seeing the stillness of her. His hand itched towards the glass before him. He needed to forget. He needed to drown. He needed to go back in time and prevent what he had done. And the knowledge that he could never do that made him slam the drink back as his other hand reached for the bottle. It was pointless to even use the glass. He needed oblivion. He never noticed as his blood red tears stained his cheeks.
Angel quickly became numb with the amount of liquor in his system. But it wasn’t helping. The images were still there and they were all he could concentrate on. He barely noticed the commotion outside his office. The screaming voice, furniture crashing about. He didn’t care, couldn’t care.
Cordelia crashed through the doors of the Hyperion, her rage rolling off of her in waves. Fred jumped in her seat at the startling noise. Gunn and Wesley came running as she began screaming, "Where is he?" They watched in astonishment as she moved to the weapons cabinet and pulled out the loaded crossbow and a stake. She looked around, then grabbed a vial of holy water. She left the door hanging open and whirled around to the others. "I said where is he!"
"Who?" Fred asked timidly. She’d never seen Cordy so…violent.
"That bastard Angelus!" she screamed, waving the crossbow menacingly. Fred, wide eyed, shrugged helplessly. He’d gone out earlier in the evening and no one knew where. Seeing that she wasn’t going to get any help, Cordy stalked to the inner office and kicked the door open. Her flaming eyes took in Angel, sitting behind his desk, an empty whiskey bottle dangling from his fingertips. Gunn, Fred and Wes rushed in behind her just as she loosed the crossbow bolt.
Pain, physical pain erupted in Angel’s left shoulder. He roared involuntarily at the pain. As he shuddered from the abrupt wake-up from his drunken stupor, he lifted his head. There was Cordy, an avenging fury standing with the crossbow in her hands. He looked down at the bolt protruding from his shoulder. Then he knew. Cordy knew what he had done. She would make it right. She would avenge her best friend and roommate. And Angel would do nothing to prevent her.
"Cordelia!" Wesley was thoroughly shocked. "What the hell are you doing!"
It’s all his fault!" she shrieked. She was so pissed that she’d missed. Her anger threw her aim off. But that was okay, she still had the stake. She began to advance on him, carefully but purposefully. Angelus was a seriously dangerous opponent. But Cordelia had vowed to herself long ago that she would do whatever necessary to stop him. She hadn’t counted on Gunn grabbing her and holding her captive.
"What’s his fault?" Gunn demanded. "What’s going on Cordy?"
"Ask him!" she shrieked. "Ask Angelus what he did. I’m sure he wants to torment us all about what he did to Max!" her voice cracked as she said her friend’s name. She collapsed slightly as the memory overwhelmed her and she began to sob openly. The others began to get the same idea. Fred, who’d been working the bolt out of Angel’s shoulder, glanced down at him, fear gnawing at her and with a final surprised yank, pulled it out and backed away from him. He just sat there, staring at Cordy, unable to speak, unable to fight.
The other three gathered around the sobbing girl. "I told him to leave her alone," she cried out. "I told him not to go see her, but he did. And when I got home, oh God, the blood. There was so much blood!" The words galvanized Angel into action. He stood up from the chair, dizzy and unbalanced. But he stumbled over to Cordelia. The others backed away, their nightmares now the reality. If the assumptions were correct, Angelus was among them. Angel clumsily knelt in front of the sobbing girl. He lifted the hand that still held the stake and raised it to his chest. The others watched this macabre event in shock and revulsion. Cordelia looked up, tears still pouring from her eyes, blurring her friend’s face.
Angel made her hand push slightly with the stake. "Please," he whispered, begging her to do what he could not do himself. Her tears stopped and she shook her head. She forced herself to look into his eyes. "Please," he whispered again, and she knew what he wanted.
"Angel?" she asked, confused. The torment that she saw was all too familiar but increased a hundred-fold. She yanked her hand back and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. "No. No, it can’t be you. It was Angelus. Angelus did it. Angelus did it." She chanted it over and over to herself, because sanity would not permit her to believe otherwise.
"No," Angel whispered. "I did it. I did it." The words got louder as the two chanted like crazed monks. "I did IT!" he roared and finally they both fell silent, locked in their misery together. They were both weeping openly again.
Wesley finally took action and motioned for Gunn to help Angel. The silent man pulled Angel back from Cordelia, as Fred and Wes helped the sobbing woman to her feet. Angel refused to get up off the floor and Gunn knelt by him, holding him by the shoulders, lest Angel should try anything before they could fully understand what had transpired. Fred led Cordelia over to the sofa and made her sit. They had a whispered conversation that the men ignored for now. Whatever had happened, they knew it was easier for Cordelia to say to another woman.
"Tell me Cordy," Fred whispered. "We need to know."
"I had to go pick some stuff up," Cordy whispered. She hiccuped as she struggled to control her tears. "I saw Angel outside and I told him to leave. Max wanted to be alone. He told me that he wouldn’t bother her. I insisted that he leave. So he said he’d walk me to my car and come home." She began to cry again, not as badly as before. Fred rubbed her shoulder encouragingly. She had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. "When I got home," she drew in a sharp breath, remembering the scene that had met her eyes. But she knew she had to tell them, make them understand the enormity of what Angel had done. "I got out of the car, and I saw Angel running from the building. I yelled at him, but he didn’t stop. So I ran up to check on Max. My God. There was blood everywhere, a bunch of furniture smashed. Max was on the floor, her clothes all shredded. And bite marks everywhere. I couldn’t move for a minute. It was just too much. But I had to help her. She was lying on the floor, barely moving. So I called for an ambulance. She was barely breathing. The paramedics said that they’ve never seen anything so bad. They rushed her to the hospital. And I came here." She finished with a gulp and began crying again. Neither had noticed Angel’s head jerk up.
"She’s not dead?" he asked, purest hope shining through the torment in his voice. Gunn squeezed his shoulder and Angel’s head dropped down again. "I thought I’d killed her," he moaned through clenched teeth.
"Why Angel?" Gunn shook his head. "Why man? What happened?"
"I don’t know," the vampire sobbed, his whole body shaking. "When she opened the door, I don’t know. Everything is hazy. All I remember was that she opened the door and the next thing I know, she was on the floor. She wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t…I just…" He was too full of remorse to go on.
"I’ll call the hospital," Wes decided quickly. Max was a friend to all of them, this affected them all. He went to the lobby to make his call as the rest sat in silence, punctuated by assorted sobs and cries. It took Wes a while to get through to someone. By pretending to be Max’s brother, he was updated on the situation. With an aggrieved sigh, he hung up the phone and returned to the assembled throng.
"She’s gone," he announced. At the gasp that echoed through the room, he realized how that sounded. "No, no," he rushed to correct himself. "I mean, she’s left the hospital." He crossed over to the sofa and seated himself next to the women. He looked at Angel. The man had stilled himself at Wes’ announcement, his brief flash of hope ripped from him again.
"They rushed her to the hospital, to the emergency room. The nurse said that she’d lost a lot of blood. Max’s injuries weren’t as serious as they’d believed at first. She has two cracked ribs, the bite marks on her neck, torso and wrist, bruises and a concussion. But when they tried to take a blood sample and let her know that they would be doing a rape kit, she became violent. She knocked out one nurse, ripped off the medical equipment and fled. She knocked out a security guard, stole some clothes and left the hospital. They called the police and the cops are looking for her. They went to the apartment, but she hadn’t returned there. So at this moment, she’d hurt and in hiding." Wes finished in a rush, seeing how the information was tearing into Angel. The other’s sat in silence. Never had anyone ever foresaw the time when Angel, not Angelus, their friend, mentor and employer would rape a woman.
Angel could see the sick looks they were shooting him. But it was nothing compared to the vile epithets he hurled inwardly at himself. He pushed himself off the floor, his drunkenness impelling him. "I have to find her," he slurred. He had to make it right somehow. With his added vampire speed, he was out of the office before anyone could stop him.
The Confession
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