Author's note: The following takes place in season 3 of Angel, between "Fredless" and "Billy." In other words, after Fred became a functioning member of the group, but before Wesley had his axe murderer experience or Darla came back.

House of Fear
by Jeanne Rose

"Is this it?" Wesley asked.

"It looks right," Cordelia said. "I saw that big sycamore tree. And the Colonial Revival architecture is hard to miss. That bed of marigolds and petunias was pretty clear too. This is the place."

"Why would the Powers that Be would show you the flowers and not the thing we're supposed to fight?" Fred asked.

"I don't know. All I saw was the house. And all I felt was fear."

"It doesn't look scary. It looks kind of nice," Fred added wistfully.

"Well, according to my research, no one who's gone in in the last two years has ever come out,"
Wesley said.

"So it could be anything from a nest of vamps to a scrog demon," Angel added.

"We've been over this," Gunn said. "We don't know what it is. But we were sent here, and we're armed to the teeth. Let's get on with it."

They piled out of the car and went up the long, elegant front walkway to the portico in front. The elaborate door was slightly ajar.

"It looks like someone is expecting us," Cordelia noted.

"Let's not disappoint them," Wesley replied. He looked at the door, then at Angel. "You don't have an invitation. Can you go in?"

Angel put his hand up to the door and pushed it in slightly. He nodded. "No one lives here," he said.

"All right then," Wesley said. "Everyone follow me. Stick close until we know what we're dealing with."

One by one they crept into the house. Fred closed the door softly behind them, then gasped.

Angel turned. "What is it?"

"The door. It's gone!"

They all looked solemnly at the doorknob now sticking decoratively out of the wooden chair rail running unbroken along the wall.

Wesley looked around the entry hall. "There are still windows."

"Wanna bet they won't disappear if we try to open them?" Cordelia asked.

Fred sighed. "No more haunted house movies, I guess. I used to like horror movies until too many of them came true."

"We'll find a way out when we've done what we came to do," Angel reassured her.

"Right," Wesley answered. "In the mean time, let's leave all the doors open, shall we?"

They all nodded and went into an ornate room with plush chairs placed comfortably about.

"Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly," Gunn quoted.

"It looks like one of those mansions you can tour," Cordelia said. "Look at that silver service! It's gorgeous. And I'm not touching it!" she added as Wesley, Gunn, and Angel all turned to her at once.

"Not a speck of dust," Fred noted. "For a place that no one lives in, it sure is clean."

"Three doors," Angel said, glancing around the room. "Where do they lead to?"

Wesley pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "That one leads to the dining room," he said, nodding toward the one Angel was standing next to. "This one should be a stairway up to the bedrooms. And the other one looks like it goes to the library."

Angel cautiously pushed the door open to confirm this. An instant later he slammed it closed and grabbed Fred's arm.

"Get away! Get back! Go!" he cried, pushing Gunn in front of him. Wesley and Cordelia yielded to his frantic urging as Angel herded them back into the entry hall.

"Angel! What is it?" Wesley asked.

Angel ducked his head, trying to get hold of himself. Cordelia touched his arm.

"You're shaking," she said, surprised. "What was in there?"

He looked her in the eye. "Acathla."

"Oh." She let out a long breath. "Oh boy."

"What's Acathla?" Fred asked.

"It's a demon that Angel awakened in Sunnydale after he lost his soul. It was going to suck the whole world into hell," Cordelia supplied.

"That's no good," Gunn said. "How did you stop it?"

"Buffy did," Cordelia said. "By sending Angel there instead. Something about since he'd opened the portal, only his blood could close it."

Fred turned big eyes on Angel. "You were trapped in a demon dimension too? For how long?"

Angel shook his head. "I don't know. It must have been hundreds of years."

"Wow. That's a lot more than five. What was it like there?" she asked timidly.

"Fire. Torture. I can't . . . usually remember much."

"How did you get out?"

"The Powers brought me back." He glanced at Cordelia. "None of you saw me when I first came back. I was an animal. I was insane."

"Buffy took care of you. That's why she was hiding you. Why didn't she just say so?"

"I remembered her name before I remembered mine." He looked back towards the parlor. "When I opened that door, it all came back. If I go back in there . . ."

"OK, this doesn't sound like a chapter in Angel's life we really want to revisit," Gunn commented. "If this Acathla guy is in there, what do we do about it?"

"I remember reading the entries in Giles' watcher diary about this," Wesley said. "Acathla isn't dangerous unless it's awakened. If it is, it forms a vortex that draws everything in this world through the portal. We have to know if that is happening." He turned to Angel.

Angel shook his head. "I never saw what it looked like. I was facing Buffy when . . . she . . ."

"Then we have to go back and find out."

After a pause, they started back toward the parlor. Angel didn't move. They stopped and looked back.

Fred stepped toward him. "I'll stay here," she offered.

"We daren't become separated," Wesley warned.

"I know," Angel said.

"We won't send you back there," Wesley said gently. "If Acathla has been awakened again, we'll find another way to close the portal."

Angel nodded and slowly joined them.

They went back to the parlor. No one blamed Angel when he hung back from the door. Cordelia reached out and opened it a crack.

"I don't see anything," she said. She opened it a little wider and then abruptly stepped back. She put her hands to her head and sank to her knees.

"Oh god no," she whispered.

Gunn stepped forward and pulled the door closed without looking in. Wesley helped Cordelia to a nearby chair.

"What did you see?" asked Wesley in a tone that said he feared the worst.

"It isn't Acathla. It's Vocah."

"Vocah?" Gunn repeated. "The demon that put you both in the hospital back when your old place burned down?"

Wesley nodded. "He was the one who burned it down. I got caught in the explosion. And he was the one that put the spell on Cordy, to open her mind to all of the people in pain all over the city."

"He's in there," Cordelia said. "If I go through that door it will happen again."

"Are we sensing a pattern here?" Gunn asked.

"Wait a minute," Angel interjected. "I killed Vocah. He can't be here."

"Yes he can," Fred said suddenly, her eyes drifting anxiously over the elegant furnishings. "All Cordelia saw in her vision was this house. And fear. It's recreating whatever makes us the most afraid." She looked at the door. "Which means that if I open it, probably it will be the first cottage I was sold to in Pylea, where the man -" She stopped abruptly, shuddering.

Wesley and Gunn looked at each other. "I don't know about you but I ain't touching it," Gunn said.

"If that's the case, then what do we do?" Wesley asked. "Are these things real, or are they illusions?"

"Does it matter?" Cordelia asked. "If Vocah really puts his mark on me again, or if the house just makes me think he did, it won't make much difference."

"Perhaps not, but if Acathla creates a vortex to draw the world into hell, it will make a big difference to all of us."

"There's no way to know," Angel said. "Maybe what happens here is only real inside the house. Or maybe no one who's come here before has ever been afraid of anything that could actually destroy the world."

Gunn slapped his axe against his palm. "Ok, say we kill Vocah again and close the portal to the realm of Acathla and dismember those Pyleans that enslaved Fred and deal with whatever's waiting for me and Wes. I mean, if we defeat everybody's demons, then can we go home?"

Wesley shrugged. "It seems logical. It's unlikely that anyone else who came here was prepared for battle. Perhaps the Powers sent us so that we would be its last victims." They all stared at him. "I meant victims in the sense that we are the last people who have to face their worst fears. Because we can defeat them."

They all stared at the door.

"Where do we start?" Fred asked finally.

Wesley deliberated. "I think we should start with Vocah," he said. "At least we know what he is and how he can be killed." His eye swept the group, giving them a moment to prepare themselves for battle. Then he gestured toward the door. "Cordelia?"

"Do I have to go in?" she asked. "If he touches me . . ."

"If you don't, it could change what's there," Wesley said. "We'll all be with you."

Cordelia gripped her crossbow. "And maybe I can take him out myself this time."

She opened the door. They all followed.

As soon as Angel stepped inside he was in the mansion in Sunnydale. The sword that he had pulled from Acathla to awaken it was in his hand. The demon's jaw dropped, and a strange whirling shape appeared in its mouth.

He turned to Wesley beside him. "It's Acathla," he breathed. "The vortex is opening."

"I can't see it," Wesley replied, stooping as if under a low ceiling.

"Where are you?" Angel asked, swallowing terror.

"Under the stairs. Father locked me in again. It's dark." His voice was a frightened child's.

"He's coming," Cordelia cried. She fired her crossbow, but the bolt went wide. "Don't let him touch me!"

"There's vampires everywhere," Gunn whispered. "I can't fight them all."

"Take that!" Fred shouted, swinging her ax, but suddenly it was knocked from her hand. She fell to her knees. "Please don't hurt me," she begged.

"Weapons won't work," Angel whispered, watching the vortex come nearer. "We can't fight each other's demons. But we can still help." He dropped the sword and turned to Wesley, who was cowering in fear. "Take my hand! Don't let go!"

He turned and seized Fred's hand with his other. "Hold on to me!" She looked at him, then back at the man standing over her and nodded, shuddering. She turned and took Gunn's hand. He looked back and saw the chain they were forming. He swallowed, looking at the hungry vampires crowding around him, but he dropped his axe and reached out to Cordelia. Their hands met.

Wesley cringed as his father raised his fist. "You worthless, stupid boy!"

Angel screamed as the vortex sent out ribbons of lightning to swallow him.

Fred whimpered as the Pylean tore off her rags and reached out his hand to touch her.

Gunn cried out as his sister's fangs sunk deep into his neck.

Cordelia wailed in anguish as the loneliness and despair of an entire city washed over her.

"Cordelia, give me your hand," Wesley cried. He ducked under his father's next blow and grasped the hand that was clutching her head, joining them into a circle.

Instantly, it stopped.

They were alone in an empty dining room.

One by one they stared at each other, not daring to let go. They were all on their knees. Angel and Cordelia were shaking uncontrollably. Wesley and Gunn were bleeding, and Fred shivered in nothing but her underwear.

"Is that it?" Wesley asked, his voice hoarse as if he'd been the one screaming. "Is it over?"

"Don't let go," Cordelia whispered.

"Not a chance," Gunn replied.

"We'll find you some clothes," Wesley said to Fred.

"It's ok," Fred said. "None of you look at me the way he did."

"Let's get out of this house," Angel said, and to that they all agreed. It was a bit awkward walking in a circle, but they managed to go from the dining room to the parlor and back to the entry hall. Everything was covered with dust and cobwebs. The front door stood open.

They didn't break the circle until they had crossed over the property line. Wesley and Angel let go first, prepared to grab hold again if need be. But nothing happened. Slowly they all released each other's hands, and Angel wrapped Fred in the blanket he kept in the car to protect him from unexpected daylight.

"Look," Gunn cried suddenly, pointing back toward the house.

They all looked. The house seemed different, almost transparent. Then the columns on the front portico fell inward, followed by the entire front facade. The roof, dormers and all, plunged downward, but it disintegrated as it fell, leaving nothing but a hole and bare earth. Even the flowers vanished.

No one spoke as they drove back to the hotel. But when they arrived, no one went home. They sat on the couch and pulled up chairs, loosely reforming the circle that had saved them.

"Is everyone all right?" Wesley asked, carefully wiping the dried blood from his face and neck.

Angel, Cordelia, and Fred nodded. Gunn pulled the rag from his neck.. "I think the bleeding's stopped."

Wesley waited until Fred met his eyes. "Are you sure?"

She nodded again. "What about you?"

He touched his nose and cheek gingerly. "It'll be swollen for a day or two, nothing serious."

"You know what?" Gunn said. "Let's not do that again any time soon."

"You got that?" Cordelia called out to the ceiling. "No more recreating the most hideous moments in our lives, OK?"

"How did you know that we should join hands?" Wesley asked Angel.

"I didn't. I just knew we had to stick together somehow. How did you know it had to be a circle?"

"I didn't. I heard Cordelia cry out and I was afraid she was alone."

"She almost was," Gunn said. "I could have taken a few of them out before they got me. But when Fred took my hand it felt like some kind of lifeline. When the circle joined, something went through it. You guys feel it too?"

They all nodded.

"Why did it make everything stop?" Cordelia asked. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"Circles have been associated with power and magic in more cultures than I could name," Fred said. "And I won't bore you by trying," she added.

"A little prior warning would have been nice, though," Gunn said.

"Agreed," Wesley said.

"So what's the lesson here?" Angel asked. "The only way to conquer fear is to face it?"

"No, I wouldn't say so," Wesley replied. "In this situation facing our fears just made us relive them. The only thing that worked was to trust in something else. We trusted each other. We didn't let go."

"Why does there have to be a lesson?" Cordelia complained. "I think it was just one more incidence of evil magic. And not all that smart either. I mean, to tell the truth there's things I'm more scared of than Vocah."

"Like what, if I may ask?" Wesley said skeptically.

"Old age. Death. All my hair falling out."

"Maybe it could only recreate things we've actually experienced. It drew on fear we carry with us from the past," Angel suggested.

"In that case I'd say we could all use a good dose of therapy," Cordelia said.

Angel looked around the circle and smiled ruefully. "Probably so."

"Hey, maybe we could get a group rate. If only we could find a therapist who we could be sure wasn't some kind of demon or Wolfram and Hart minion," she mused.

"And someone who wouldn't throw us all in the loony bin," Fred added.

There was a moment's silence as they considered this. Then Gunn chuckled at the absurdity of such an undertaking. Cordelia joined him, and it spread around the circle until the hotel lobby was filled with the sound of four people and a vampire laughing until they cried.

The End

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