Work Text:
Curses & Cures
By Vigdis
Soulspell
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The sun was setting as they pulled up in front of the Hyperion. Willow was shaking with excitement as she parked on the curb in front and got out. Tara shook her head tolerantly and laughed as she followed her lover. Willow smiled happily as she gathered the supplies for the spell. Tara smiled back softly as she grabbed their suitcase, packed for an overnight stay, from the backseat. They walked up the sidewalk to the front doors of the Hyperion.
Tara opened the door with her free hand and Willow walked inside, calling out, “Hello?”
She looked around the empty lobby. “Angel? Cordelia? Wesley?”
She shrugged. “Maybe they’re out on a case.”
“Probably,” Tara nodded. She set down the suitcase and looked around. She had never been to LA before and the hotel was fascinating. Until… A shiver ran down her spine as Angel and Spike started down the stairs. Cordelia and Wesley popped in from the kitchen and a man and and a woman she didn’t recognize appeared on the balcony.
Willow lit up in a grin. “Angel! Oh! And Spike! I didn’t know you would be here. Great news!” she babbled happily. “I have a spell to make your souls permanent!” she announced.
Angelus and Spike exchanged a look then smiled broadly at her. “That *is* great news, Willow,” Angelus said, moving down the stairs gracefully, Spike at his heels.
Tara grabbed Willow’s arm. “Willow,” she said urgently, “they’ll all vampires. They don’t have souls! I can see it in their auras!”
Willow’s head whipped around to look Tara in the eyes. Her own eyes filled with horror. She pulled Tara to the floor with her and used their combined power to raise an impenetrable shield around them.
“Oh boy! I *so* did not count on that!” Willow whimpered.
“But you did insist that we have that Shielding spell ready.”
“That was because I planned to shield *them* while they were soulless,” Willow admitted. She took a deep breath. “Fortunately, it will keep them out as well as it would have kept them in. Unfortunately, I was only prepared to do the spell for the two of them. What do I do now?” Willow frowned down at her supplies and spell components. “I’ll just have to improvise,” she murmured.
“Willow, that could be dangerous. I mean, you’ve already created a new spell, here. Changing it more could have… well… unforseeable consequences.”
“And just imagine the consequences if I re-soul Angel and Spike and I *don’t* re-soul the others!”
“Well… I suppose you understand the situation better than I do.” Tara sounded uncertain, but she was willing to support Willow in any way she could.
Willow read over her spell quickly and carefully removed the Orb of Thesulah from it’s protective pouch and started setting up.
“What are you going to do?” Tara asked nervously, looking at the frowning vampires surrounding them.
“Well, it looks like my only choice is to focus the spell on Angelus as the head of his line. Since Angel dusted Darla and Buffy killed the Master and the other Aurelian elders, he’s the new Master of Aurelius, even if Angel never chose to do anything about it. So, if I focus it on him and word it right, it should filter down to everyone here.” Willow took a shaky breath. “No problem. I can do this.” She turned to face Tara with worried eyes. “I need you to help me. This is gonna take a lot of power and I don’t have the control to focus it all.”
Tara nodded firmly. Willow carefully removed the old jacket Angel had left at Buffy’s from her spell components box and placed it gently on the floor between them. She centered the Orb on it and took Tara’s hands. Tara felt a gentle prodding as Willow attempted to link them and she opened herself to her lover, allowing her control to become theirs.
Then Willow started to chant.
The spell was quite different from the gypsy curse, but it started out the same way. Angelus recognized the sound of it and bellowed his denial.
As she continued to chant over Angelus’ outraged ranting, Willow poured more and more of their combined energies into the spell. Tara’s eyes went wide as the shield protecting them was pummelled by the fledging vampires.
Spike, surprisingly, appeared to be indifferent to the proceedings. He wasn’t, though. Angelus eventually quieted, but he continued to glower at the witches as he watched his consort attempt to light a cigarette, with shaking hands, and fail.
Finally, Wesley stepped back, calling the others off. “Their shield is too strong. Willow is too powerful. There is nothing we can do,” he announced bleakly.
Angelus surged forward, grabbed him by the throat and threw him across the lobby. He crashed into the desk and fell in an undignified heap. “Thank you,” Angelus growled menacingly, “for that enlightening observation.” He took a step toward him, but stopped when Spike touched his shoulder.
“’Gelus,” he murmured, eyes sad, “he just wanted to help. Let him be.”
Angelus growled again, but yanked Spike into his arms and buried his face in his consort’s neck. Spike nuzzled at his mate and allowed himself to be crushed against his hard chest. He dropped the unlit cigarette and put his arms around his beloved as he waited for the spell to hit them.
A flash of brilliant white light suffused the lobby of the hotel and Tara’s mouth openned in awe as the red of Willow’s hair bled out to a snowy shining white. Her green eyes seemed to glow as well. Her voice never hesitated as she continued to chant the spell. The Orb flared, golden, between them and shattered, imploding. Willow gasped and collapsed as the vampires cried out in agony. Tara pulled her hands free and focused all her energies on the protective shield. Tears rolled down her face as she watched Willow’s roots turn red once more and chase the white out the tips as the light filling the hotel disappated.
“What a rush!” Willow whispered. “It feels like I’ve done something wonderful.”
“Yes. Probably so,” Tara answered her softly. “But I seriously doubt *they* are going to think so.” She nodded toward the vampires writhing on the floor.
Angel and Spike clung to one another. Their childer crawled slowly across the floor to reach them. Once they had, the fledglings held onto their sires and whimpered, seeking comfort. The elder vampires gave what comfort they could. They were still feeling the pain of the spell, themselves.
“Willow?” Angel called out, “What have you done to us? It feels different than before.”
Willow looked at him, torn between empathy for his pain and the thrill she still felt rushing through her. “I had to alter the spell. It would have only worked on you and Spike. I had to make it work on all of you.”
“How?” he demanded.
“I focused the spell on you, as the Master of Aurelius. So that it would filter down to everyone here.”
“And what of my chlider that are *not* here? Will it affect them too?”
“Oh!” Willow’s eyes went wide. “It shouldn’t. I mean, unless they are really close, or something. I mean, the kind of power it would take…” she looked down at the spot on the Angel’s old jacket that used to be the Orb of Thesulah. “On the other hand… the spell *did* destroy the Orb. It shouldn’t have done that.” She looked up at him with frightened eyes. “No one has the kind of power it would take to make a spell like this so far reaching! Do they?” she whimpered. “Oh, dear goddess! What have I done?”
“It’s Samhain,” Tara whispered. “At dusk. And the moon is full. And Neptune and Saturn are in opposition.”
Willow let out an anguished wail. “No one has that kind of power,” she repeated insistantly.
“You’re wrong, Willow,” Tara informed her gently. “You do. You may very well be the most powerful witch the world has seen in centuries.”
“What does that mean for my childer?” Angel asked urgently, his eyes wild.
Tara turned to him, her old eyes comforting and accepting. “It means that it is very likely that every member of your line has had their soul restored. Because it is Samhain, the barriers between our world and the spirit world are at their thinnest. The fact that the spell was cast at sunset and tonight’s full moon accentuate the thinning of the barriers.”
“And the planets you mentioned?” Spike managed to add. “How do they affect it?”
“Neptune rules dreams and illusions. Saturn rules boundaries and limits. With the two in opposition, it means that this type of spell, cast on this particular day, will be magnified in power and effect. Add to that my control focusing Willow’s innate power and you have a spell that *is* far reaching, all-encompassing, and, well…” she shrugged helplessly, “unbreakable.”
Angel howled.
“Can you feel them?” Tara asked hesitantly. “More than you did before, I mean?”
“I can feel them,” Angel groaned burrowing once more into Spike’s embrace. “I can feel them all.”
“Dru?” Spike asked, worried.
“And Penn. She’s with him,” Angel confirmed. He could feel Darla, too, but she wasn’t with Penn and Drusilla. She was alone. And there was something he didn’t understand – couldn’t read – in her presence. He shook his head. He would figure it out later.
“At least they aren’t alone,” Spike sighed. “They have each other.”
“And Penn’s new childe,” Angel said softly. “I can feel him too. He just awoke tonight.”
“Then it shouldn’t be so hard on him. He won’t have to live with even one night of killing,” Cordelia said. “Not like us,” she added, her voice breaking as she began to sob against Spike’s side. His hand reached down to stroke her back gently.
“Can you tell where they are?” Willow asked sadly. Cordelia’s pain touched her deeply.
“No. But I think I can call them to me. They know where I am, at least,” Angel assured her. “But Sam doesn’t.”
“Sam?” Spike asked. “He’s still out there?”
“Yes,” Angel assured him.
“Then call him. He’ll find you. He keeps track. I’ve run into him a few times over the years.”
“We’ll have to call Buffy. Let her know what’s going on. I don’t want her staking my childer,” Angel mused, sadly.
Willow nodded and Tara dropped the shield.
Willow took only a single step toward the desk to call Sunnydale before Angel’s hands closed over her arms and he shook her.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done, Willow?” he grated out. “It’s possible that this is a permanent alteration to my bloodline.” He shivered, fighting the rage that consumed him. “Anyone turned in the future may go though this agony. And it *is* agony, Willow!” he assured her harshly. “I *know* pain. I’ve been to *hell*, remember? And *this is agony!*”
“It still hurts?” Willow asked faintly.
“Yes!” Spike growled at her.
Angel released her with a little shove and turned away. She stumbled before regaining her balance. Angel ignored her guilty whimpers as he moved back into the huddle around the sofa.
“I’ll let you know when the pain stops,” he informed her coldly.
She sank to the floor, sobbing.
Tara made the call to Sunnydale.
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The fledglings passed out after about 45 minutes. The pain was too much for them. Spike and Angel continued to hold each other, ignoring the witches. Finally, a little more than an hour after the spell took effect, Angel sighed in relief and tenderly stroked Spike’s face. Spike met Angel’s questioning gaze and smiled brokenly. He nodded. The pain had passed and with it, the confusion. They undersood, now what had happened to them. Their newly restored souls had fully merged with their demons. The souls remained dominant, but the demon was very much a part of them.
Angel closed his eyes and tilted his head, flexing his new power. Tara had been right. He could feel each and every member of his line. He could tell if they were near or distant. He could tell if they were sleeping or awake. He could tell what they were feeling and sense the tenor of their dreams.
Other than his bond with his mate, Spike, the connection to his direct childer was the strongest. It was nothing so complex as a telepathic link. He couldn’t read their thoughts or talk to them. But he could feel their presence and their emotions. And he could project his own. He could call them to him, but he couldn’t tell them where he was. He *could*, however, let them feel his own longing for them. They would not be able to resist his call. They would feel his need as if it was their own. For Penn and Drusilla, it *was* their own. And he could feel Sam – how his emptiness had given way to heartbreak with the return of his soul. But, still, his need for a mission remained. And *that* was something Angel could offer him.
Then there was Penn’s childe – so young, so horrified. The boy was reeling, but his sire’s comfort was all he needed. Though the fledgling was able to sense him as the Master of their line, Angel was nothing more than a distant and vastly intimidating stranger to him.
And Darla… She was now his grandchilde, rather than his sire, but her pain called to him. Her need for forgiveness for her vicious rejection after he was first cursed filled her. And that something that he had not been able to understand earlier became clear. She was not alone. Angel gasped his shock. As impossible as it seemed, she was carrying his child. He could feel the presence of his unborn son.
Tears filled the eyes of the Master of Aurelius as the pain of his childer overwhelmed him. Gathering all his strength, he sent out his call:
“Come home!”
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