*~*~*~*
Angel grinned down at his human with a smile. He was curled in the bed, sleeping soundly. He watched as Xander's chest rose and fell with each breath. He sat on the bed, running his fingers along the warm cheek. Xander sleepily opened his eyes, smiling. "Hey, Deadboy. How are you this morning?"
"I'm fine." He glanced up at Xand, who was standing there watching the two of them. It was a strange feeling, looking at Xander and Xand. Both looked alike, one was human, one was demon. Both were his. "You had a smile on your face."
"I was having this great dream," he said, sitting up. He ran his fingers through his hair. "You were there, wearing tights."
"Tights?" Angel's eyebrow rose.
"You know, like, a Batman outfit, real tight form fitting body suit. And um, you had this symbol on your chest. It was bizarre. It was like, an angel. But instead of a halo, he had horns, and um, fangs."
Angel chuckled.
"I was your faithful sidekick," Xander said, "and we fought crime, and had sex pretty much wherever we could."
Angel's smile grew. "I like the dream already."
"I think we were cartoons," Xander finished.
Xand laughed out loud. "Oh, god! That must have been a *riot*!"
Xander chuckled with his vampire counterpart. "It was kinda funny, yea."
The vampire twin sat on the bed. "You know what the sad thing is?" He looked at the two of them, grinning. "No matter how cool I am, or how removed I am from *you*," he pointed to his human counterpart, "I still have whacked out dreams like that."
Xander chuckled.
"PEACHES!"
The three jumped up, tearing out of the room at Spike's cry. They ran into the hallway. Spike was standing in the doorway to the bathroom. They could hear Cordelia from inside of the bathroom, saying softly, "Come on, Willow, wake up, girl."
Angel looked over Spike's shoulder and frowned. Willow looked fine, it was just that her heartbeat was very faint, as if she were trying to die. "Did she take pills or something?" he asked, pushing in and kneeling beside the girl.
"I don't know," Cordelia said, looking up with tears in her eyes. "I didn't find any empty bottles."
Angel glanced up at Xander. "Did she wake you up or anything?" he asked.
Xander shook his head no. "I haven't talked to her since we went to bed last night."
Angel growled. He shook Willow, trying to pull her out of the funk her mind had retreated to. Finally, green eyes fluttered open. "Angel?" she whispered. "Am I in hell? I thought you got to come home. . ." She frowned. "Why is it so cold in hell?"
"Willow, you are in Cordelia's bathroom," Angel said.
Spike ran in, kneeling next to Willow. "What the *bloody* hell did you do, pet?" he growled.
Willow looked down at her wrists, frowning. "Ok, what happened to the cuts? I don't even have any scars or anything. I very clearly remember trying to slit my wrists. . .there was so much blood, but it didn't really hurt like I thought it would. . ."
Spike pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. "It was a dream, pet."
"I didn't try to kill myself?" she asked, her voice falling. "I need to. . ." She tried to pull out of his arms.
"NO!" he cried, holding her tightly.
Angel stood up. "I'm calling Giles. He has to help us find a cure. This is going way too far." He stalked angrily through the house, growling softly. Someone was messing around with a member of his family, and he wasn 't very happy with that.
Picking up the phone, he dialed the very familiar, but rarely used digits to the Watcher's house in Sunnydale. After two rings, a soft female voice answered the phone. "Hello?"
Instinctively, before Angel's brain realized it was Buffy, the demon in him shuddered at the sound of the Slayer's voice. Even over the phone, an hour and a half away, the Slayer made the demon howl in protest.
Angel paused, knowing that Buffy would refuse his request to speak to Giles. He softened his voice, adding his long unused Irish accent. "'Ello. . .Mrs. Giles?" he asked softly.
Buffy giggled. "No, I'm just a friend."
"Right. . .canna speak to Mr. Rupert Giles?"
"Sure, hang on." Buffy pulled the phone away from her mouth. "Giles! There's some Irish guy on the phone!"
"Irish guy?" Giles muttered, picking up the phone. "Rupert Giles, can I help you?"
"Rupert, Angel. I need your help."
"Huh?" Giles said, momentarily surprised that Angel was on the phone. "Oh, right, right. Er, how are you? Can I help you with something?"
"Giles, what do you know about a Malcaecian Demon?" Angel asked softly.
"Oh, nasty bugger. Not someone you want to meet with. He causes those he touches to have constant nightmares. Most of the time, the person in question will die of a heart attack, literally being scared to death from whatever vision they are experiencing." Giles paused. "Are you about to face one? I have the Dagger of Omethis. That's what you need to destroy it."
"Giles, has there ever been any cases where the demon touched someone, and it was killed, except for it wasn't killed in the right way?"
"Oh," Giles said softly. "That isn't a good situation. The person will go crazy with his nightmares. Are you experiencing this problem?"
"Yea," Angel sighed, glancing over at Willow. She was sitting on the couch, clutching Spike, sobbing. "Willow is going through it. And Spike, Xand, and I touched him, so we are all being pulled into her dreams. It's not good. She will die soon if we don't figure something out."
"Oh, dear," Giles exclaimed, shuffling his papers around. "I know I read a story once where someone was in that exact situation. . .I will see what I can find out and call you back, ok?"
"Thanks, Giles."
"Anything for Willow," Giles swore. "Remember that, Angel. I will do anything in the world for those two teenagers. You had better take care of them."
Angel smiled to himself, not minding that Giles was protective over them. "Thanks. Talk to you later." He hung up the phone. He turned to the group. "Giles is going to call us."
*~*~*~*
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