Shadow Lives

Author:  Kizmet
email: kkizmet@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Premise and characters borrowed from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and
"Angel".

Author's Notes: This story is AU from "Epiphany" on AtS and "The Gift" on BtVS.  In
the story Lindsey didn't catch up with Angel until after Cordy had been rescued.

* * *

Part 1: Calling out the Dead

"So, um, in your reality, I'm like this bad-ass vampire, huh?  People afraid of me?   ...Oh,
yeah. I'm bad."  - Xander, "Dopplegangland"

Anya carefully examined the sigils drawn on the floor then took a deep breath.

The first time she'd sought power through magic it was because of love scorned, it lead
her to become a vengeance demon.  Once she'd adapted to her second time as a human
she'd sworn off magic.

The second time around all she'd wanted was a normal life with the man she loved,
unfortunately that man was friends with the Slayer.

He fought demons and saved the world even after the Slayer was gone.  And less than a
month after they'd become engaged, a month after Buffy had died saving Dawn and the
world, Xander died.  He was killed while trying to fill in for the girl who sacrificed
herself for the world even though the world still needed her to fight for it.

In her first life Anya turned to magic to avenge a love scorned, in her second she turned
to magic to recover a love lost.

It had taken five years of studying and planning and waiting.  Five lonely years, but it
was all going to be worth it.

Anya kissed the engagement ring she still wore for luck and began chanting.

A few minutes later the candles all blew out and two bodies appeared on the floor.  Anya
frowned but finished the spell.

Once it was done she stared down at the pair in consternation.  "I was only aiming for
Xander," she said then shrugged.  It could have turned out worse.  At least she had
Xander or his body anyway.

Anya picked up a crystalline orb in preparation for the next spell she needed to cast.

"Spirits of the interregnum..." she began.

* * *

Cordelia stared blankly at the ceiling as she lay in bed trying not to think.  Today she
wouldn't go in to the office, didn't want to hear Wesley or Gunn's voices, didn't want to
see their eyes, didn't want to be reminded.

"Cordy are you all right?" a soft uncertain voice echoed through her memories and
Cordelia groaned, she couldn't escape it.

"No..." her own voice replied across the barrier of year.  Paused just long enough to
alarm him then added.  "You hurt my feelings."

Hurt feelings, it had been such a stupid, infantile thing to bring up.  Cordelia supposed
she should be grateful she hadn't thought of something worse.

Then the three of them had walked out, left him behind.  Bruised, battered and defeated
even though, technically he'd won... against the demons anyway.

The after they got back to her place they'd had a conference, decided that even though
he'd saved their lives earlier that night, they weren't going back to him.  They wouldn't
forgive him.

After that they'd gone home for some much needed sleep.  When they opened the office
the next evening they'd waited for him to come so they could tell him that he'd gone too
far and that too much had happened for things to go back to the way they'd been.  They
waited and time passed, they got impatient, angry even, how dare he not come and beg
them to take him back?

Finally the door opened, only it wasn't Angel.  Lindsey strode in, dressed like a first class
redneck and looking unbearably smug.

"I just had to tell someone," he'd said.  "What's the fun in winning if you can't gloat?"

"What do you want Lindsey?" Wesley had asked impatiently.

"Angel's dust," The lawyer had said grinning widely.  "God how I love saying that."

Whistling cheerfully, Lindsey had turned and walked out, leaving three stunned
individuals behind him.

That had been five years ago today.  They had told themselves that they didn't care;
whatever epiphany Angel had had, it had come too late.  They didn't need him, they
didn't want him and it just didn't matter that he was gone.

They tried to forget him.  Cordy didn't know how successful the others had been, but she
had almost done it.  Too bad this wasn't one of the two times where almost counted.
When Angel surfaced in her mind it was always the same memory, the one she couldn't
get rid of.

The anger she'd felt when he abandoned them was in ashes.  The good times that had
come before had no more substance than a dream but the memory of concerned brown
eyes set in a bruised and battered face, slowly filling with pain as her rejection sunk in
was as crystal clear today as it had been that night.

They'd left him alone, walked out after he'd been hurt saving their lives and later that
night he'd died... Alone.

Cordelia buried her face in her pillow, stifling sobs for a broken friendship that might
have mended if she'd given it a chance.

In the background the phone rang, Cordelia ignored it.  Eventually the answering
machine picked it up.

"Cordelia," Anya's strident voice began.  "You have to come to Sunnydale.  You have to
take Angel away."

Cordelia sat up and stared at the phone.  After Anya had hung-up she cautiously
approached it.  After a brief internal struggle she pushed play, the message hadn't
changed.

Slowly she dialed Wesley's home number, knowing without ever having asked, that he
wouldn't have opened the agency on this date.

"Wes, it's Cordy," she said in a choked voice.  "Pick up the phone, I need to talk to you."

* * *

"You're here, finally," Anya greeted them at the door.  "Angel's hiding in the basement;
please take him away.  I have enough problems without him."

"Anya, you do know that Angel is dead?" Wesley asked.

"Anh's good at fixing little details like that," Xander said bitterly stepping into the room.

"Xander..." Cordelia said faintly.  "I went to your funeral."

"Yeah, well welcome to Sunnydale, where everyone gets to die at least twice." Xander
replied with a harsh laugh.  "I told you, Anh fixed that, only she got two vampires for the
price of one."

"Two vampires?" Cordelia questioned stepping back nervously.

"Don't worry, I put his soul back," Anya assured her.  "I even took out the clause because
no sex would just be unpleasant."

"How?" Cordelia asked.

"Remember the vampire-Willow from senior year?" Xander asked.  "Anya brought the
other me from that dimension here, stuck in a soul and called it good."

"But you know Anya?" Wesley asked.

"Oh that's the fun part," Xander said.  "My body was in this dimension when the
restoration was performed, that's the version of my soul that's in here, along with the
demon.  The soul that originally came with this body is still happily dead."

"And Angel?" Cordelia asked, uncomfortable with this new, dark version of Xander.

"I told you he's hiding in the basement," Anya interjected.

"Why, what from?" Cordelia demanded.

"Anh didn't need to resoul him," Xander said sadly.  "All he remembers is the other
place.  He's hiding from me."

"Which is why you should take him away.  He makes Xander uncomfortable," Anya said.
"Now, please."

Bewildered Cordelia and Wesley cautiously entered the basement.

"Angel?" Cordelia called hopefully.

A rustling sounded in the darkness and Angel appeared, his pale skin and ragged faded
clothes making him look ghostly.  "You're human," he said in a voice rough from disuse.

"Angel!" Cordelia cried ecstatically, running to him and throwing her arms around his
neck before he'd fully registered her intent.

As her weight crashed into him, Angel cried out in pain and fell.

"I'm sorry," Cordelia exclaimed as Angel scuttled back into the shadows. "I just never
thought I'd see you again."

"I don't know you," Angel said suspiciously.

"If things had happened differently we would have been friends," Wesley said
sorrowfully.

"What do you want from me?" Angel demanded, eyes darting from Wesley to Cordelia
fearfully.

"Nothing, you need a place to stay, somewhere safe.  Time to collect yourself.  We can
give you that." Wesley answered.

"Why?" Angel asked.

"We lost someone very like you.  In remembrance of him we'd like to help you." Wesley
answered.

"Or you could just stay here with Xander," Cordelia added.

* * *

Xander stood at the side of the window watching as Wesley's car vanished into the night.

"Okay, he's gone, everything's good now, right?" Anya asked.

"Why'd you do this to me?" he asked.

"I love you," she said.  "And I missed you."

"So you show it by cursing me?" Xander asked angrily.

"You can't lose your soul," Anya reassured him.  "So it's okay."

Xander choked on his laughter.  "You know I used to think that, but the torture isn't the
clause.  That's just an added bit of nastiness.  The real torture is the curse."

"What do you mean?" Anya asked.

"Memories Anh, that's what it's all about.  Do you know what I remember?  I remember
dying Anh.  I remember going home the next night.  I went up to my old room.   I didn't
have to wait long.  Mom came up, crying like always, telling me how I wrecked her life
and I told her what I thought of her.  She just stared at me in shock.  Then I reached out
and I snapped her neck.  Around mid-morning Dad came home.  He was hung-over of
course, tried to hit me, I caught his fist in mid-swing; crushed it.  I made him scream, I
made him beg, I made him cry.  Then, when I got bored I drained what little blood was
left in his body."

"The next night I went to Willow's house.  She wouldn't invite me in; it was against her
parent's rules to have boys in her room.  Willow was always such a good girl, but not
good enough.  She came outside to talk to me.  I changed her from my sweet, innocent,
best friend into a monster.  I took her body down into the tunnels.  When she rose, she
smiled up at me, her expression was exactly the same, but her eyes were so cold.  She
reached up and pulled me down on top of her.  I ripped off her clothing and we did it
right there on the ground."

"Neither of us had ever even had a romantic kiss before that night."

"After that we went out and won our places as the Master's new favorites.  It was hard
coming up with something horrific enough to impress that jaded, old bastard, but we
managed, repeatedly."

"But it wasn't you," Anya protested.

"It was these hands, this body, this mind.  I could tell you how their blood tasted, about
the days that went into planning each new infamy.  The smell of my victims' terror, the
sound of their screams, the way I enjoyed it all so very much.  If not me then who was it?
That's what you gave me when you brought me back.  I was better off dead."

* * *

"Welcome home," Cordelia said nervously as she escorted Angel into her apartment.
"Don't worry about the ghost, Dennis likes you."

Angel stepped tentatively into the apartment.  "Where do you want me?" he asked, his
voice soft and submissive, his eyes never leaving the floor.

"You can have the spare bedroom," Cordelia said gesturing off-handedly in its direction.
"Some of your old stuff is in the closet."

Cordelia missed the puzzled frown that appeared briefly on Angel's face only to be
replaced with blank acceptance.

"I didn't save any of your clothes though," Cordelia rattled on.  "We'll have to go
shopping; the refugee thing is so very wrong for you."

"I'm sorry," Angel said.

"For that?  Geese Angel, loosen up, it's no big," Cordelia replied awkwardly.  "Look
you're probably all mixed up from the dimensional shift and everything.  Why don't you
go lie down?  You'll be more yourself after a nice rest."

With a relieved sigh Angel hurried to the room Cordelia had indicated earlier.  He picked
a corner that wasn't visible from the door and sank to the ground.  Resting his head on his
knees he fell asleep.

* * *

Cordelia crept into the darkened room and froze, staring at the empty, unslept in bed;
tears welled up in her eyes.

As she turned to leave, she saw Angel curled up in the corner.  A slightly hysterical
giggle crept up in Cordelia's throat; she put her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.
For several long minutes she simply stood there, watching Angel.  Then she pulled a
blanket off the bed and gently draped it over him.  For a second her hand hovered
indecisively near his cheek.  Then very softly, she brushed the back of her hand against it.
Cordelia smiled at the tangible proof of his presence, then quietly retreated back to her
own room.

Angel remained totally motionless until he heard her breathing even out as she fell
asleep, then he pulled his knees closer to his chest and began to shake.

* * *

"It's sunset," Cordelia proclaimed sticking her head in Angel's room.  She frowned
when she saw he was still in the exact same corner she'd found him in the day before.
"Time to go shopping," she finished her cheer sounding slightly forced.

Angel rose to his feet, watching Cordelia, clearly waiting for her next instruction.

"The car's out front, I'll drive," Cordelia continued.  "I got blood while you were
sleeping, it's in the fridge.  You should probably eat before we go.  I mean you look half-
starved.  I don't want any accidents and there are going to be tons of people, all of them
blood having, at the mall."

Angel walked into the kitchen, a mug of blood floated across the room toward him.  He
stared at it in confusion.

"You'd better take it quick," Cordelia said.  "Dennis loves being helpful, but it's hard for
him to hold things steady and I really don't want cow's blood all over the kitchen floor."

Angel took the mug and quickly downed it's contents then turned to watch Cordelia half-
fearfully, half-expectantly.

"Just set it in the sink, we'll worry about it later," Cordelia said grabbing up keys and
heading toward the door.  Angel did as she asked then followed her to the car.  "There are
only three hours till the stores close and I really want to get you back into normal
clothes."

At the mall the dark haired vampire hovered near Cordelia, flinching nervously every
time someone looked at him or got too close.

Cordelia watched him sadly.  After a few minutes she laced her arm through his and
clasped his hand reassuringly.  "Nothing to worry about Angel," she said blinking back
tears as she smiled up at him.  "I'm the queen of shopping, this is like my home territory,
nothing gets the better of me here."

Cordelia quickly walked them to one of the quieter clothing stores.  When the salesman
started toward them she decisively waved him way, "We're completely fine," she assured
the man, "Don't worry about us."

The salesman frowned unhappily as he took in Angel's ragged appearance, but left them
alone.

Cordelia wandered through the store selecting a number of black slacks and shirts and
handing them to Angel.  "We'll have you looking like your old self in no time," she
reassured him.  "We'll get clothes tonight.  We should probably get them a little on the
loose side, because with you eating right, you should put on twenty pounds or so.  Which
will be way more healthy, plus I'll be much happier living with you once I can't see your
ribs anymore.  Oh, and I know, we'll get some of that hair gel you used to like so much.
I can't remember the brand exactly, but I know my hair products, I'll find you something
as good if not better."

"I think that's enough," Cordelia decided once they'd made a complete circuit of the
store,  "Why don't you start trying things on?"

Angel lay the armful of clothing Cordelia had selected over a rack and started
unbuttoning his shirt.

Cordelia stared at him in shock and stunned mortification that quickly changed to horror
as she saw the burn marks and other scars cris-crossing his chest.  "Oh my god," she
whispered, looking away from him, only to see the salesman walking toward them.
"We're good!" She yelled at the man grabbing up the clothes and pulling Angel toward
the dressing rooms.  "Leave us alone!"

In the privacy of the dressing room, a morbid curiosity forced Cordelia to finish taking
off Angel's shirt, laying bare the various scars he'd collected.  Cordelia bit her lip to keep
from sobbing as her fingers gently traced the unhealed wounds left from his life in the
other dimension, tears streaming down her face.  "I'll never let anyone touch you again,"
she swore fiercely.  "Never again."

* * *

"You're sure you don't want to come?" Anya asked.  "Willow, Dawn and Spike will all
be there."

"What happened to Tara?" Xander asked tensely.

"She broke up with Willow then left," Anya replied, her tone indicating that even the
former vengeance demon didn't want to talk about the subject.  "You should come," she
reiterated instead.

"I don't want them to see me," Xander replied.

"Why not?  Willow will be ecstatic; you're really you even if you're a vampire, not at all
like...  That isn't important, nothing you need to know about.  Anyway Dawn missed you
too and anything that makes Dawn happy makes Spike happy."

"It's because I'm a vampire," Xander explained impatiently.  "I don't want them to see
me like this.  I don't want to see Willow and remember what I made her into."

"Well you can't hide in the house forever," Anya said.

"I don't," Xander replied.  "When you sleep I go out to patrol.  I figure someday I'll get
lucky and something will kill me again.  But even that won't make things right.  Just by
being in this body I feel like my soul's being contaminated by what it's done."

"Is that why you won't have sex with me?" Anya asked hesitantly.

"Yes! Goddamnit!  There's blood on my hands.  I don't even want to touch you with
them!" Xander shouted.

"I want you to," Anya said tearfully.  "I want you back.  It's not like I'm Miss. Innocent,
1100-year-old vengeance demon remember?  I've done bad things too so why does it
matter?  Why can't you be with me?  Did I make you dirty by loving you?"

Xander threw up his hands in disgust then disappeared into the night leaving Anya
watching after him miserably.

* * *

Gunn couldn't help it; his eyes just kept drifting to the dusted vampire sitting in the
corner of their office.

He knew he was staring and worse yet, Angel knew it and flinched every time he felt the
weight of Gunn's gaze on him, but Gunn couldn't make himself stop; Angel had been
dust for years and now he was sitting across the room from Gunn, only he wasn't.

At first glance the dark-haired man in the traditional black on black clothing was
undeniably Angel, but when you looked past the familiar face that was when the doubts
started.

The clothes were the right color, but they hung loosely on this man's gaunt frame.  The
sleeves of his shirt didn't quiet cover the bands of shiny, white scar tissue around his
wrists or his even whiter knuckles.  Angel had never clung to the furniture as if his hold
on it were the only thing keeping him from fleeing the room.  Angel hadn't sat with his
feet braced against the floor, ready to catapult himself out of harm's way at a moment's
notice.  And Angel's eyes might have been equally dark with regrets, but they'd also
been steady and receptive, where this man's eyes flickered nervously about the room,
watching and waiting for the next blow.

Cordelia was constantly finding excuses to touch him, to reassure herself he was real.
Gunn was surprised that this Angel didn't cringe every time she did it, he couldn't
believe that a person with Angel's mannerisms liked being touched and yet he made no
effort to avoid Cordelia.

"Pretty soon we'll get a case.  You can help.  It'll be like old times," Cordelia was
chattering with forced cheerfulness, patting Angel on the shoulder.  "Of course we've had
to learn to be a lot more careful since you've been gone.  Wes, Gunn and I don't heal like
you did... But that's a good thing, we'll teach you to be more careful too, then you won't
get hurt so often.  I forgot how often you used to get hurt.   Careful is good, not getting
hurt is better."

"Leave him alone Cordy," Gunn said abruptly.  "If you'd take off those damn rose-
colored glasses you'd see he doesn't like you hangin' on him.  Further, we ain't taking
him on any cases.  I've seen people like him before now.  He won't fight.  He can't.  He's
forgotten how to do anything but endure a long time ago."

"No," Cordelia said.  "He's Angel."

"He isn't, not your Angel anyway, not your champion.  The only way someone could
make things more clear is if they stamped the word victim across his forehead," Gunn
replied.  "You gotta face it, Angel died the same night that Darla chick got vamped.  This
is just another ghost."

"Fine," Cordelia snapped, "If you're going to be a jerk I'll just take Angel home.  He'll
be back to normal in no time, just watch."

* * *

"Xander, you're really back," Willow squealed happily wrapping him in a bear hug the
instant he walked into the door.

Xander went rigid in her arms, his mind flashing back to this same lithe body clad in
skintight leather, smelling of arousal and blood as she rubbed herself against Puppy's
body while he screamed in agony as her actions caused broken bones to shift under his
skin, grating against each other, tearing soft tissues, exacerbating open wounds of all
sorts.

The memory of the oft repeated scene was so clear Xander could almost see it.

Willow's blood red hair would hang forward, obscuring her face as she unlaced the
leather corset she favored.  Xander would have even been able to hear her unneeded
breath coming in ragged gasps.  He would watch her squirm out of her clothes, using the
captive vampire's body as a sex toy as she moved, the pain she inflicted on her unwilling
partner would only heightened her arousal.

Xander remembered how he would wait until Willow was naked then he would grab her
and slam her to the floor on her back next to Puppy.  Willow would lay there staring up at
him her lips parted, her eyes filled with lust as he pulled down his fly...

Swallowing back bile Xander returned to the present, he pushed Willow's warm,
welcoming form away from him and retreated to the bedroom.

"Xander?" Willow asked in hurt confusion.

* * *

Angel lay on the bed his body tense, despite his best efforts.  After a few hours he heard a
mortal heartbeat approaching the door.  He closed his eyes and feigned sleep as Cordelia
slipped into the room to check on him.

The mattress shifted slightly as she sat on the edge of the bed and Angel finally felt
himself relaxing.

After a few seconds Cordelia began cautiously fussing with the blanket, then tentatively,
she brushed his hair back away from his forehead.  "Sleep well Angel," she whisper, and
Angel smiled very slightly, feeling himself beginning to drift into a true sleep.

* * *

Cordelia stuck the tub of blood from the butcher's into the refrigerator.  Then, frowning
pulled out an older container.  She stared irritably at the lumpy, congealing liquid then
dumped it down the sink with a distasteful wrinkle of her nose at the smell.

"I told him there was blood in the fridge," She grumbled out loud.  "How is he ever
supposed to get better if he doesn't eat?"

"Angel," she called and the dark haired vampire appeared immediately in the open
doorway to his room.  "Aren't you hungry?" she asked.

"Yes," Angel whispered.

"Well the blood I got for you is going bad in the 'fridge.  What do you want?  For me to
serve it to you?" Cordelia asked sarcastically.

Angel opened his mouth as if to answer, but he didn't say anything.  After a few seconds
he began to tremble, breathing harshly.

Horrified Cordelia rushed to his side.  She pushed him into a chair and knelt before him
stroking the back of his hand soothingly.  "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I don't know what you want me to say," Angel whispered.  "I don't want to make you
mad, but I just don't know what I'm supposed to do.  Please don't give me back."

Cordelia stared at the thick rings of scar tissue encircling his wrists.  Years of wearing
manacles had defeated even a vampire's regenerative abilities, permanently marring his
flesh.  Cordelia had to wonder if Gunn were right, if the damage to his soul was equally
irreparable.  "I'm not mad at you, I promise," she said.  "It's just there's blood in the
'fridge, like I said, and if you're hungry you should eat, okay?"

* * *

"Can't believe she's making me do this," Spike said rolling his eyes as he walked into
Anya's apartment.  He didn't even bother with knocking on the door of the room Xander
had locked himself in; he simply kicked it in and stormed into the room.  He grabbed
Xander by the shirtfront and shoved him against the wall.

"Get over yourself Harris!" Spike snarled.  "So you're a vampire, you've seen what you
can be, big bloody deal."

"Poor little you, you have it so hard.  What Willow brought back I had to help kill cause
the witch couldn't do it herself.  At least I managed to do it before Dawn saw what her
sister had become.  You've got nothing to complain about."

"You've got some bad memories, oh boo hoo.  So you turned Willow and tortured Angel,
I killed Buffy and there's no other Buffy sitting at home crying not five minutes drive
from here, but Willow's there and she's upsettin' Dawn.  I've had Angel tortured too... "
Spike paused.  "Okay, I really enjoy that memory, except the end part where my hair
caught on fire.  But that's not the point, point is everyone's got things they wish they
hadn't done, and in our little group of acquaintances those things are uglier than for most
folks.  Learn to live with it."

With that Spike dropped Xander and stalked back out of the apartment, muttering under
his breath, "Damn woman, can't leave well enough alone, says I understand him, I can
empathize with him.  Bloody hell, I don't empathize.  I'm a vampire, I torture, I kill, I
maim, I don't do guilt counseling!"

* * *

"We've got to do something to fix him," Cordelia said shutting the door behind her as she
entered the agency's inner office.

Wesley glanced through the window to the lobby; he wasn't surprised to see Angel sitting
in a corner staring stead-fastly into space.  "We're doing everything for him that we can,"
he said.  "But it's going to take time.  He was tortured for years, the effects won't just go
away overnight."

"I know that!" Cordelia exclaimed.  "But what if he never gets better?  What if he's
always like this and never like he was?"

"All we can do is hope for the best, and not get our hopes up too high," Wesley sighed.
"From what I've managed to piece together, Angel tried to stop the Harvest when Buffy
didn't show up in Sunnydale, that was quite probably the first time he'd tried to make
amends for his past, and he failed.  The price for that failure was horrific, from what I can
glean from Xander's refusal to discuss what was done to him.  It's going to be very
difficult for Angel to move past that, he doesn't have our Angel's memory of successes to
fall back on."

"Then we've got to give that to him," Cordelia said.  "If that's what he needs."

"What are you suggesting we do?" Wesley asked.

"Well he's Angel.  He can be our Angel, he just doesn't know it," Cordelia reasoned.
"Xander knows who he was here..."

* * *

"Angel, could you come here?" Cordy asked nervously.  "Just, sit on the bed.  We need
to check how your cuts are healing."

Obediently Angel did as he was asked, Cordy wondered why she'd bothered to think up a
reason, Angel always did exactly what he was told, he rarely moved without instruction;
trying to avoid the possibility of ever doing something he wasn't supposed to .  That was
why they had to do this.  It was unspeakably wrong for Angel to act like this; like he was
someone's pet, barely even that, a pet with a broken spirit.

Gunn stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, he'd made his feelings on this plan
very clear:  "Great plan; chain him, dope him up on happy pills till his soul takes a walk,
recurse him before the drugs wear off and hope you get the soul you want.  Oh yeah, this
is one beaut of a plan, wish I'd thought of it," he'd said sarcastically when they'd
explained it to him.

Gunn had been out voted thought, not that his vote counted much on matters pertaining to
Angel.  He'd never really been that close to the souled vampire, not like Cordy and
Wesley had been.  It didn't kill him to see Angel like this the way it did them.  And so the
plan went forward.

Cordelia and Wesley made eye contact over Angel's head then they simultaneously drew
Angel's wrists back and snapped the manacles around them.  The instant the cold metal
touched his skin; Angel began taking shallow, panicky breaths.

"We're going to make you better," Cordy promised quickly.  "But to do it there's a part
where you could hurt us so we have to lock you up, it's just for a little, okay?"

Angel turned to her and in his dark eyes Cordy saw stark terror.  "I trusted you," Angel
said in a small voice.

"This may seem cruel, but Angel, I swear, it's for the best in the long run," Wesley said,
placing a comforting hand on Angel's arm, the souled vampire tried to pull away from
him only to be stopped by the chains binding him to the bed frame, unable to escape
Angel curled up in fetal position on the bed.

"I'm sorry Angel," Wesley said softly, unbuttoning the cuff of Angel's shirtsleeve and
baring his arm.  Angel bit his lip, mentally preparing himself for the pain.  When
someone paid attention to him there was always pain, how could he have been so stupid
as to forget that simple fact?

The prick of a needle sliding into his arm was so minor Angel almost didn't notice it, but
the flush of drugs entering his system registered and with it came the special dread Angel
reserved for this torture alone.

Xander had been the one to hit upon this particular game, it had taken him several tries to
find a drug that achieved the desired result, but Xander was always the persistent one.
The drugs stripped away Angel's control, and when they wore off there were always
bodies waiting, staring at him with empty accusing eyes.

He'd trusted them and they did this too him... Distantly Angel heard himself being to
scream, anger mixing in with terror as the drugs took hold of his mind and set the
darkness free.

Tears trickled down Cordy's cheeks as Gunn exclaimed, "I told you this was a stupid
idea!"

Wesley bit down on his lip until he tasted blood in his mouth, the sound of Angel's
screams twisted his gut, and he felt like vomiting, Gunn was right; this was a mistake, a
terrible mistake.  And now it was too late for anything except pressing forward.  If it
worked all would be well and Angel would forgive them, at least he hoped Angel would
forgive them, if not... Wesley sighed, if not they may very well have put the finishing
touch on the destruction of Angel's mind and soul.

* * *

Part 2: The Burden of Guilt

                "We've all been worried about you, and I guess it's fair to say we
                all share some of the blame." – Wesley, "Reunion"

Wait for the drug to take effect.  Cast a spell.  Wait for the drug to wear off.  Hope that
Angel would be like his old self when it was over.  It had all sounded so simple in theory,
Wesley thought as he stared at the warm, glowing orb cradled in his hands.  They hadn't
even bothered to use the word hope; Angel would be all right when it was done, that's
what they'd said.

Now Wesley wasn't so sure everything was going to be fine.  Something should have
happened when they used the curse.  No, Wesley corrected himself, something more
should have happened.  The orb of Thesula had taken on a brilliant glow as the spell was
cast, but Cordelia remembered the orb disappearing immediately after that when Willow
had successfully cast the spell in '98.

Wesley had deduced the cause; the glow was caused by the presence of Angel's soul
within the orb.  The orb disappeared when the soul was transferred to a body.  Which
hadn't happened.   Their Angel's soul was still trapped in the orb.  When the drug wore
off Angel would still be the damaged creature Anya had inadvertently rescued from the
other dimension.

Gunn stepped out of Angel's room.  "It didn't work," he said, echoing Wesley's thoughts.

"How can you be sure?" Cordy asked from her corner of the couch.

Gunn stepped to the side and gestured to the room he'd just left.  Wesley carefully set the
orb back in its holder then followed Cordy into the Angel's room to see the results of
their actions.

Gunn had apparently been sure enough that the drug had worn off to release Angel,
because the dark haired vampire was curled up in one corner of the room, pressed into the
space between the wall and the dresser.

Cordelia knelt beside Angel and put her hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture.  At
her touch Angel's whole body went rigid.  Slowly Cordelia let her hand drop and stepped
back away from Angel.

* * *

"We made things worse," Cordelia said.

"He still hasn't moved from that corner?" Gunn asked.

Cordy shook her head.  "If anything he's getting worse, more withdrawn.  I keep trying to
get through to him; I talk to him for hours.  The harder I try the less it feels like he's
hearing me."

"That isn't the end of the damage we've done," Wesley said, looking toward the glowing
Orb of Thesula.  "I can't find a way to release our Angel's soul from the orb at this stage
of the spell."

"You can't just smash it?" Gunn asked.  "That always works in the movies."

"This isn't a movie!  I don't know what would happen to Angel if I did," Wesley replied
grimly.  "I think we've done quite enough leaping without looking, don't you?"

"I voted against doing this," Gunn said.  "Don't look at me."

"I'm sorry Charles," Wesley sighed.  "I just don't know what to do."

* * *

Wesley pushed aside the volume he had been examining.  It only confirmed his worst
fears; there was no way back.  The only safe thing to do with Angel's soul was to allow
the curse to be completed.  But that couldn't happen, the other Angel's soul, broken as it
was, prevent the curse from reaching completion.  They had known that this had been a
possibility, but in their bone-headed determination to have things go back to how they
had been they'd convinced themselves that the doximal would be enough to fool the
curse into believing that Angel's body didn't have a soul of it's own present.

They had just wanted things to go back to the way they had been that was all.

Now they were stuck and everything was falling apart.  Angel, the one from the other
dimension, was practically catatonic.  He's trusted them.  Wesley wondered how long it
had been since that Angel had trusted anyone.  Years?  Decades?  They might very well
have been the first people he'd trusted since he'd been turned.  And how had they repaid
that trust?  They'd chained him up and drugged him.  Who cares what their intentions had
been, from Angel's point of view their treatment of him was little better than what he'd
endured as the Master's prisoner.

It was of little wonder that Angel had reacted to their betrayal by retreating completely
from reality.

And as for their Angel... Wesley sighed.  All they'd wanted to do was help.  They'd been
desperate to make everything right again.  The truth was they'd never come to terms with
the manner... No not so much the manner as the timing of his death.

Angel had come to them, ready to acknowledge the error of his ways, and they'd turned
him away.  They'd been hurt and angry and it had just been too sudden, they'd needed
time to consider, so they'd walked away.  They'd taken a long look at the situation that
night after they left Angel, they'd come to the conclusion that they couldn't go back,
Angel couldn't be trusted with the position of authority that he'd so badly abused.

Perhaps they hadn't handled Angel's initial reaction to Darla as well as they might have,
but in the end it was Angel who had decided to play judge and jury for the Wolfram and
Hart lawyers.  It was Angel, who when confronted with his mistakes had thrown them out
and dove head first into the darkness they'd strove to warn him away from.

There had been real reasons as to why they hadn't welcomed Angel back with open arms.
Wesley knew that.  Reasons that they had undoubtedly been discussing while Angel died.

And that changed everything.  Rationally Wesley knew it wasn't their fault.  They hadn't
known, couldn't have known what would happen.  It they'd had any clue Angel was in
imminent danger they wouldn't have left him, but they hadn't known.  In his head
Wesley knew that they hadn't been to blame, but his heart never listened to reason.

This time Wesley's head and heart were in agreement.  This time what had happened to
Angel was their fault.  There wasn't much doubt about that.

Then there was the matter of Angel's soul.  Wesley very carefully reached out and
touched the orb.  And his breath caught in his throat; ever since the curse had been begun
the orb had been warm to the touch, now it was barely above room temperature.  As
Wesley watched the glow inside the orb flickered, going dark for a second.

* * *

Wesley, Cordy and Gunn watched the light inside the glow flicker yet again.

"I don't know what to do," Wesley admitted.

"I'm calling the experts," Cordelia said.  "Willow and Anya have both managed to cast
the curse successfully."

* * *

Willow studied the orb critically.  "The spell is still trying to take effect," she said.  "But
it's being blocked."

"Yes, by the soul already in Angel's body," Wesley said impatiently.  "We need to stop
it, I believe the spell is hurting his soul."

"I don't know how to stop it," Willow admitted.

"Then why didn't Anya come?  Maybe she'd be more useful," Cordy snapped.

"Xander's not taking things well.  She's scare to leave him alone," Willow said. "I'm
better at magic than she is anyway.  If I don't know how to stop the spell, she wouldn't
either.  Besides, I've got a plan; even though I can't stop the spell, I think I could give it a
boost.  You know, just sort of push it to completion."

"What's that going to do to him?" Gunn asked.

Willow shrugged, "There is precedent, when a ghost possesses someone they effectively
have two souls.  In this case, since both souls are Angel's I'd think they'd have an easier
time cohabitating."

"You think?" Wesley questioned.

"I know the spell is burning out Angel's soul," Willow replied.

"I still say we just break the damned orb," Gunn said.

"You can't," Willow said firmly.  "Not without hurting Angel even more."

"I guess we don't have any options," Cordelia said.

"We're making too many assumptions," Wesley protested.

"What do you suggest we do?" Cordelia demanded.  "We can't go back, we can't stop
here, so we have to go ahead."  As if to underscore her point the light in the orb flickered,
everyone held their breath till the light returned.  They couldn't help but notice that it was
dimmer than it had been.

Willow picked up the orb and walked into Angel's room.  She placed it on his chest then
spoke a quick phrase in Latin.  Her eyes turned solid black and a wave of power washed
over her and into both Angel and the orb.  For a long moment nothing happened, then the
orb seemed to melt into Angel.  Willow's eyes cleared then rolled back in her head.  She
dropped to the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

"Don't move, don't move, don't..." the imperative and the unspoken hope that everyone
would forget he existed if he just ignored them all droned on endlessly in Angel's mind,
slowly fading into white noise through sheer repetition.

In the quiet emptiness pieces of identity and past assembled and came together to take on
form.

* * *

"I've done everything I can.  I'm going back to Sunnydale tonight, I might be needed,"
Willow said.

* * *

"Don't move, don't move...."

Confusion reigns supreme, memories, too many and not enough.  Conflicting images.
Buffy, who he'd been willing to live or die for.  Buffy, a dream never realized.  Willow
and Xander, captures, tortures, vampires, cruel and soulless, the crown jewels of the
Master's family. Willow and Xander, Buffy's friends, loyal, caring, human.

Dying (Why wouldn't they let him die?), alone (Why wouldn't they leave him alone?)
abandoned by his friends (What were friends?). His fault (his fate).  His mistakes (his
punishment).  His failure (his failure).

What is real?  Both feel real.  Am I insane?

* * *

"We can't just sit here forever waitin' for him to wake up.  I'm opening the office in the
morning, with or without you two"

* * *

"Don't move, don't move..."

"Angel, you've got to go on," warm, caring, other.

"I'm not here."

"No, but you're almost there."

"I'm nowhere, nothing."

"Open your eyes."

"Not moving."

"Please?"

"No"

"I love you."

"Buffy?"

...

"Buffy?  Come back."

* * *

The crash of Cordelia's teakettle falling to the floor jolted Cordelia and Wesley from an
uneasy sleep.  Wesley sat up in his sleeping bags on the couch.

Cordy appeared in the door to from her room.  "Dennis, people were sleeping," she
grumped throwing on the lights.

"Angel!" the surprised exclamation burst simultaneously from both throats.

Angel shrank back against the door, stunned by his sudden status as center of attention.

"Angel, you're back!" Cordy squealed happily.  "You're up and moving around without
instructions, you're okay.  You're you again."

"I'm not him," Angel said, his voice panicky.  "You showed me who he was, I'm not
him, I was never him."

"Angel?" Cordelia asked uncertainly.

"That's not even my name!" Angel yelled suddenly angry.  "I never used that name until
I introduced myself to Buffy... which I never did!  Liam is dead.  Angelus is dead.
Angel never existed.  Willow's puppy is all that I am.  Just leave me alone."

"But you remember?" Cordelia said.  "You know all the things you've done."

"I didn't do those things!  While he was doing those things I was sitting in a cage waiting
for the Master or Xander or Willow or anyone really, to come torture me again.  When
you brought me here that was the first time in..." Angel laughed it was a strained sound.
"What year is it?" he asked.

"Two thousand and six," Wesley answered hesitantly.

"Ten years," Angel said distantly.  "It was only ten years.  It felt like forever.  I used to
tell myself I was glad when they were with me, because that meant at least one of them
wasn't torturing someone else, and I deserved it didn't I?  I've done the same or worse to
so many others, so I deserved it.  But it's hard to lie to yourself forever.  Eventually I had
to admit that I didn't care what they did to who if they'd just leave me alone.  So much
for noble intentions huh?  I couldn't even manage that much."

Angel took in the other's horrified expressions.  "I'm not your hero after all am I?" he
said.  "Maybe now you'll forget about me.  It's all I want anyway."

The door stuck as Angel tried to open it.  "Dennis, please?" Angel asked quietly and the
door swung open with a sad creak allowing the dark haired vampire to vanish into the
night.

* * *

"We've got to find him," Cordelia cried, watching the sun cresting over the horizon.  "It's
day and he doesn't have any place to go..."

"Cordy, chill," Gunn commanded.  "Angel, either version, has been around for a long
time, he knows how to come in out of the sun."

"Day is still a good time to find him," Wesley said.  "The sun will keep him pinned in
one place...  Well it will limit the number of places he can go."

"He doesn't want to be found," Gunn said.  "Now we've got people to save and a
business to run.  Are you two going to help me or not?  Angel will come back when he's
ready to come back."

"What if he doesn't?" Cordelia demanded.

"Then he doesn't, it's his choice," Gunn replied coolly.  "You can't make him be the
person you want him to be.  If you hadn't learned that way back when, the other night
should have taught it too you."

"What I learned then," Wesley said quietly.  "Was that because I ignored a friend's
troubles, because I let him push me away, I lost that friend.  I won't make that mistake
again."

"Angel needs us," Cordelia added.  "I promised I'd protect him.  I can't abandon him
now."

"Fine, go running after him!" Gunn snapped.  "Forget the people we're supposed to be
protecting, forget all you've done to Angel so far is mess him up even worse than he was
to start with.  I don't care.  I'll be here, taking care of thing when you two come back to
your senses."

* * *

Angel watched the sunlight slip a tentative toe under the overpass where he'd found
shelter for the day.  For a second he was certain that the sun caught in a flicker of long,
golden-blond hair.

Cautiously Angel ventured toward the edge of the shadows, his expression hopeful, then
as the hope he felt registered his eyes became fearful.  "No," he muttered.  "No... that's
how it starts, how it ends is inevitable... no hope, no light, can't let it happen again."

He sank to his knees just inches from the divide between darkness and light.  "You have
to remember.  That's why you exist, to remember, nothing more, never anything more.
Don't get above yourself, it only leads to disaster," he said to himself.

"No, you need to finish it," a worried feminine voice whispered in the corner of his mind.
"It's for nothing if you don't finish."

"Kathleen, Mother, Father, Anna, Sean, Mr. Connell, Father Patrick..." Angel recited.

As the list of names lengthened Angel held his hands out into to diffuse sunlight.
Gradually his skin reddened as if from a sunburn then began to peal and eventually blister
as he continued reciting the seemingly endless list of names or whatever he remembered
of the person.

"Buffy's classmate, Jenny Calendar, Holland Mannors... Lindsey McDonell?" Angel's
voice rose slightly, turning the last name into a question.  "No, I didn't kill him... did I?
Oh well, wanted to kill him often enough, it should count as some sort of sin.  Guess I
should put Lilah on the list too..."

* * *

Cordelia bit her lip as she stepped into the lobby of the Hyperion.  When they'd been
forced to sell it they'd managed to defeat Wolfram and Hart in a small way, instead of
letting the law firm take control of the old building they'd got the local chapter of the
historical society to buy it.  They'd finished the restoration Angel had started and now the
hotel was just like it had been in the twenties when it had originally been built.  Cordelia
was glad of it, but stepping into the lobby after so many years and having it still look the
same was a painful reminder of better times to the Seer.

Wesley went up to the desk and held out an old picture of Angel  "Have you seen this
man?  His name is Angel," Wesley asked, preparing to go into their spiel about how
Angel's estranged father, who was on his deathbed and had hired them to find his son
before it was too late for them to make amends... Sure it was trite, but it worked more
often than not.

That was when Cordelia felt it, the tingly warning moment that always preceded a vision.
In the last five years she'd almost forgotten it.  Then her hands flew to her head and the
part she could never forget began.

At her shriek of pain Wesley turned and for a moment he was frozen in disbelief as
Cordelia writhed on the floor clutching her head.  Then he crouched beside her, pulling
her upper body into his lap.

When it was over Wesley asked, "Was it actually a vision?  After all this time?"

Cordelia nodded, "We're going to Sunnydale," she said.

* * *


"Hello Anya, may we speak with Xander?" Wesley asked tentatively when the former
demoness opened the door.

"You can yell through the door at him just like everyone else.  He boarded it up after
Spike kicked it down," Anya said dispiritedly moving aside to let Wesley and Cordelia
in.

"Sounds fine to me," Cordelia said storming in determinedly.  "Xander get your butt out
here!" she commanded.

Wesley gave Anya an embarrassed look on Cordy's behalf, but didn't try to stop the seer.

"I didn't mean tomorrow!" Cordelia continued.  "The PTB sent you a message, and you'd
better get out here and listen to what they have to say!"

There were several crashing sounds then the door slowly opened and Xander stepped out
looking haggard and unkempt.

"We need you to find Angel," Cordelia said.  Xander stepped back and started to shut the
door again only to have Cordy block it open.  "The PTB sent a vision, you're supposed to
help Angel," she said insistently.  "You can't ignore this, it's a vision.  I haven't had a
vision since Angel died.  This is big.  You have to do it."

"They're insane then," Xander replied harshly.  "How the hell could I help Angel?  I'd
probably traumatize him just by being within a hundred feet of him."

"Nonetheless, you are the one the Powers believe can help him," Wesley said. "Cordelia
and I tried our best and we only hurt him more.  We don't understand him, we never did.
We can't help, but maybe you could."

"Because I'm the one that did this to him?" Xander asked.

"No, because like Angel, you are a vampire which has had it's soul returned," Wesley
said.

"Don't you get it?  I tortured him!" Xander exclaimed.  "Do you know why?  To practice,
to see how my ideas worked on someone I wouldn't accidentally kill before I was
finished playing with them."

"Right now you're closer to being Angel, the original Angel, than Angel is," Wesley said.
"The Powers that Be have chosen you as their new champion.  They've given you a
chance to make up for the things in your past, so stop wallowing in your guilt and help
someone.  You keep saying you can't help Angel, but you won't even try.  Can you
imagine how much it would have meant to him to be able to put things to right with one
of his former victims?"

"Alright!" Xander exploded.  "I'll try, but don't forget I told you so when this blows up
in our faces."

* * *

Xander moved through LA's night, hating every minute of it.  He'd been doing it for days
now and it didn't get any easier.  It felt too much like hunting, although he'd never
hunted places like this before.  He'd been a Sunnydale vampire, one who lived in the
Master's era.  They hadn't hunted in humanities' dark corners, hadn't been the thing
lurking in the shadows.  They'd strode boldly through Sunnydale, had ruled the night.
They hadn't had to live off the dredges of society.

"Angel," Xander said turning toward the deeper shadows.

"S...stay away," Angel snarled brandishing a cross, apparently insensitive to pain it had
to be causing him.

"I'm backing off," Xander said holding up his hands.  "Put that thing down before your
hands are charcoal."

"Right, it takes about a month for me to heal from third degree burns, isn't that what you
deduced?" Angel said.  "How many experiments did it take you to figure that out?  Fifty?
A hundred?  I've forgotten."

"I'm sorry," Xander said.

Angel laughed.

"Please Angel, I want to make it up to you," Xander requested.

"Don't call me that!" Angel snapped.

"What should I call you then?" Xander asked, stepping forward, his hands held out
placating.

"Nothing!  G... go away!" Angel insisted, the cross shaking, almost obscured by the
smoke rising from Angel's flesh.

"Dammit, put that thing down.  You're hurting yourself."

"And you'd rather do that for me?" Angel asked sarcastically.

"They gave me my soul back," Xander said.  "I won't hurt you, not ever again."

"That's almost funny," Angel said.  "I guess you've been practicing, your jokes usually
hurt more than yourfists."

"It's for real," Xander said.  "I'm sure you know how it is; being so hungry that you're
sure your stomach's eating it's way out of your body but the thought of what you're
craving revolts you so much that you know you'll vomit if you try to feed."

The cross lowered as Angel peered curiously at Xander.

"You know, in this reality I used to think that you'd gotten off easy," Xander continued.
"I guess the jokes on me isn't it?  'Cause this is hell."

"Trust me, Hell's worse," Angel replied, dropping the cross into a pocket.

"Come on, let's go back to Cordy's.  They're worried about you," Xander said.

"It's not me they're worried about," Angel said.  "I'm not Angel, tell them that.  They
made me remember his life, but I'm not him."

* * *

"How'd Angel die?" Xander asked as soon as he walked into the office.

"Where is he?" Cordy responded.  "You found him didn't you?"

"Yeah, I found him, even talked to him for awhile.  He's real fixated on the fact that he
isn't Angel.  So how did Angel die?" Xander repeated.

"He was staked," Wesley said.  "What did you think, that he was hit by a car?"

"I don't buy that," Xander said.  "It couldn't have been that simple.  There was
something wrong about the way he died.  That's why you couldn't face Buffy afterwards.
We didn't even find out he was dead until Willow went to LA to tell him about Buffy
several months later.  Why couldn't you tell Buffy he'd died?"

"Her mother had just passed away..." Wesley began.

"And it would have been easier to tell her when?" Xander demanded.  "After Drusillia or
one of our other mutual friends sprung the news on her?  Buffy deserved to be told.  Who
killed him?  How'd you deal with a baddie who could take Angel out?"

"We weren't there!" Wesley exclaimed.

"But you knew he was dead?" Xander asked skeptically.  "What'd you do... find the
body?"

"We knew," Cordelia said.

"Why are you so concerned with this?" Wesley asked.

"Because Angel has both sets of memories now and he keeps on insisting that's he's
Puppy."

"Okay, Angel called himself that too and I really don't get it," Cordelia said.

"The other Willow called him Puppy," Xander said tiredly.  "It's the closest thing to a
name that any of us ever used for him.  That's what I don't get, Puppy's life was one long
nightmare of torture and degradation, but Angel would rather cling to that identity than
admit to being the person he was here.  Why is that?  What was so wrong with Angel
here, that he'd rather be Puppy?"

"He died here," Wesley said firmly.  "Don't you think that's enough?"

"No, I don't," Xander said.

* * *

"Hi," Xander said.

Angel watched him approach warily.

"You know Cordy's place is real cramped and I can't make friends with that blasted
ghost.  I rented an old warehouse in this district.  It's pretty decrepit but it keeps the sun
out and there's lots of room.  You could use one of the offices for quarters," Xander
offered.  "There's enough room that you wouldn't even have to see me if you didn't want
to."

"Why are you being nice to me?" Angel asked.

Xander looked away.  "You know why.  Will you come, you don't have to see the others
either if that's how you want it.  But they'd feel better if you had a place to stay."

"What if I don't want you to feel better about what you did to me?" Angel asked.  "It's
dangerous for either of us to feel better.

"I swear having you around won't make me feel that much better," Xander said.  "And
aren't we getting into cutting off your nose to spite your face territory here Angel?"

"Don't call me that!  I'm not Angel," he snapped.

"Well you're not Angelus either and I'm not calling you Puppy ever again, so why can't
you be Angel.  It's just a name," Xander argued.

"Fine," Angel guardedly agreed.  "As long as you remember that he doesn't exist.  He's
dust and gone and forgotten."

"So you'll come?" Xander asked.

"I'll come, but if the others show up I'm gone.  You won't find me again."

* * *

"Angel!  Food's ready!" Xander yelled taking two mugs out of the microwave.

A few minutes later Angel appeared from the depths of the warehouse.

Xander flinched slightly as he noticed Angel had rolled up his sleeves a few turns to
display the scars around his wrists.

"You could have painted neon arrows on the backs of your hands," Xander commented.

Angel walked across the kitchen without looking at Xander.  "I prefer a touch of subtly,"
he said then picked up one mug and put it in the refrigerator.

"That's going to be nasty if you let it cool," Xander warned.

"I don't drink warm blood," Angel replied.

"Can't you let anything be easy?" Xander asked with a sigh.

"Why should I?" Angel said.  "This is your atonement, not mine.  I've given up on that
crap."

"Whatever," Xander sighed watching Angel retreat into the shadows.

Xander took his breakfast and with a grimace downed the contents of the mug.

A few minutes later his cell phone rang.  Xander shut his eyes and ignored it.  It rang five
times then quit as the automated answering kicked in.  Less than a minute later it rang
again... and again.  After four rounds Xander gave in and answered the phone.

"What is it Anya?" He asked.  "... Yes, I'm fine as I ever get... No you can't come down
here... No!  Stay in Sunnydale Anya... No, I don't hate you... I just don't want to see
you right now... Anya... Anh... Please don't cry... Look Anh, give me a couple of
weeks then I'll come spend some time on the good old Hellmouth.... No, I can't come
sooner... Angel would probably take off if he thought I was far enough away for him to
actually disappear... I'm not the old Xander, you saw to that.  I can't be him... It doesn't
matter how long Willow cried, I can't pretend to be someone I'm not anymore... Anya
I'm sorry... I know... you didn't understand what you were doing... I'm coming to see
you in a few weeks, be happy with that.  It's the best I can do."

Xander disconnected and went back to his meal.

Angel came back in, snatched his mug out of the refrigerator and gulped it down.  "What,
I was hungry," he snapped before quickly rinsing his cup out and storming back into the
warehouse proper.

"Angel..." Xander called after him, then sighed and picked up the phone.

"Cordelia... Hi, it's Xander.  Did your vision give any hints on how I'm supposed to help
Angel?  ...That's not how it works huh... Well do you have any ideas.... I got him off
the streets.  I've used up all my ideas okay?  ... I'm not his friend, I've never been his
friend, he doesn't want me as a friend and he needs a psychiatrist not a friend anyway.
Which I'm not qualified to be either... Yeah, yeah... I know, the PTB know what they're
doing... I'll keep you up-dated.... Thanks for all the help Cordelia."

* * *

Xander wandered restlessly around the warehouse, hating every minute of the day, of
being trapped.  It was enough to make him wish he could learn to like reading.  Or, an
even less likely possibility, wish that Angel would talk to him.

As if the thought of the other vampire had summoned him Xander heard Angel's voice
softly speaking in the distance.  "Okay, for today's list we'll do people I've let down,"
Angel was saying in a sarcastic, self-deprecating voice.  "Father, you seem to make a lot
of the these lists Dad.  Buffy, you're here a lot too... at least I didn't kill you, that's
something I can be thankful for.  Doyle, my first real friend, is it any surprise I failed
you?  Tina, Mr. Lockley, I wanted to save you.  Kate, I really did want to save him.
Faith, I meant to be there to help you, the going insane and then dying got in the way.
Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn... practically every person I've ever known really, certainly
every person who's ever depended on me.  Darla... I so wanted to help you, to see that
someone like me could be saved... I guess I got my answer to that didn't I?  We're
beyond saving.  I suppose you'd say I failed you long before that, I promised you I could
still be him back in China.  Does that count?  Failing to be evil?  You, Dru and Penn
would all agree I failed you, maybe even Spike would agree.  Should I feel guilty for
failing you?  I know I'd feel a whole lot worse now if I hadn't, but isn't feeling bad what
this is all about?  Reminding myself of what I've always been, making sure I never
forget.  I won't risk my soul again, not ever again, not for anything."

As Xander followed the sound of Angel's voice the stink of charred flesh filled the air,
and when he turned the corner he understood why; Angel was sitting in front of an open
window, one hand stretched into the sunlight.  As Xander walked into the room Angel's
flesh caught fire and the older vampire calmly doused the flames in a bucket of water at
his side then placed his hand back in the sunlight.

"Are you completely insane?" Xander demanded, forcibly dragging Angel away from the
window.  "What are you doing?  I don't have a word for how totally deranged you're
acting!"

Angel blinked up at Xander, looking confused, like he'd been forcibly yanked out of a
trance.  "It's none of your business," he said cradling his burnt arm against his chest.
"Leave me alone."

"I'm not just going to leave you alone!" Xander shouted.  "Look what you did to
yourself.  That is beyond freaky.  You just... Geese Angel that is wrong, sick okay!  I
can't just ignore that.  Why would you do that?"

"The pain helps me focus on the memories," Angel said half to himself.  "And I have to
remember, if I forget, I lose my soul."

Suddenly Angel's attention focused fully on Xander.  "You need to worry about that
too," he said.

* * *

"You lied to me," Xander said walking into Angel Investigation's current offices.

"What are you talking about?" Wesley asked.

"You knew Angel died because he found another loop hole in the curse and you had to
kill him," Xander said.  "First, how am I supposed to help Angel if you're withholding
things from me and second, if there's another way to break the curse I think I need to
know about it."

"Wrong lame-brain," Cordelia practically growled.  "Angel didn't lose his soul.  He was
completely soul-having when he... He saved our lives just before it happened, he was
good."

"That doesn't make any sense," Xander said.

"How did you come to the conclusion that Angel had lost his soul?" Wesley asked.

"Because Angel's picked up this nifty new hobby of self-mutilation.  From what he said I
think he's doing it because he believes that losing his soul is a real danger," Xander
explained.  "Now him going all self-destructo-boy might have made sense right after
Wills recursed him, but he was fine for years.  The only thing I can think of is the curse
must have broken a second time."

"Well think again, because it didn't," Cordelia said.

"Perhaps if you told us exactly what Angel said," Wesley suggested.

"Sure, but then I expect you to tell me exactly what was going on before Angel died,"
Xander said.

* * *

Nervously Wesley crept into the warehouse Xander and Angel were occupying, tightly
clutching a thick file folder to his chest.

He glanced around the darkened interior then he hurried across the cavernous main area
to the break room the two vampires were using for a kitchen.

Wesley peered around the door jam, then, finding the room disserted hurried in, set the
folder on the table and turned to leave only to see Angel standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" Angel demanded.

Wesley gulped then stood straighter.  "There were some things I thought you should see,"
he said gesturing to the folder.  "I put together some information on our former clients.  I
thought you might be interested in seeing how well many of them have done since
coming to us, to you, for help."

"I'm not your Angel!" Angel snapped.

"The hell you aren't," Wesley replied with firm conviction.  "You may be the other as
well, but you are Angel, these are people whose lives you changed for the better.  You
didn't fail them.  You've helped so many people Angel."

"I failed everyone I cared about.  How can you, of all people, deny that?" Angel asked
angrily.

Wesley walked back to the table, flipped through the folder for a few seconds then took
out a few pages and handed them to Angel.

Angel stared down at the pages headed Wesley Wyndam-Pryce in disbelief.

"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce," Wesley said in an impersonal tone.  "Arrived in Sunnydale in
the spring of 1999 as a replacement Watcher for the Slayers Buffy and Faith.  During the
performance of his duties Wesley was arrogant and pig-headed."

"You weren't," Angel said.  "You were just covering how uncertain you were."

"I was.  I consistently belittled and ignored the rest of you, especially Giles, as if you
hadn't actually been fighting demon for years, while I'd only been studying them.  If I'd
tried I couldn't have done a worse job dealing with the situation with Faith.  Buffy had no
use for me.  Neither the Watchers Council nor my family would take me back.  I know
you were aware that I had no place to go when I arrived in LA.  Being a 'rogue demon
hunter' was a salve to my pride, nothing else.  You gave me a real chance to find my feet
and prove myself, to make a difference.  No one ever did that for me before.  No one ever
forgave me my mistakes or encouraged me before.  Given my behavior in Sunnydale you
had no reason to give me a second chance or to treat me with respect, but you did and I'm
grateful to you for that.

"But I fired you," Angel said.

"I believe we've established that you don't have a monopoly on making mistakes,"
Wesley said.  "Given my history, as well as our friendship, I should have done more
when I saw you heading for a fall.  At the very least I should have been willing to give
you another chance when you found your way back to yourself."

"I've had a second chance, more that one actually, and I screwed them all up," Angel
said.  "Eventually you run out of chances."

"Maybe you do, eventually, but not yet.  Things got out of hand with Darla, but that
doesn't erase all the good you've done.  You're so focused on the things that went wrong
you've forgotten every thing else.  Read the files Angel, remember all the people you've
helped."

"What happened in your war with Wolfram and Hart was a mistake, a very human
mistake.  You got too close to a case, you took it personally and when things went badly
and you lost control.  You were hurt and angry and you lashed out.  What you did wasn't
right, but it was both understandable and forgivable."

"We've missed you Angel."

"I lost my soul Wesley!" Angel exclaimed.

"No you didn't," Wesley said.

Angel frowned in confusion, slowly backing out of the room.  "Then why...  You're
lying.  Before Whistler came I went for almost a century without hurting anyone.  He told
me I was a nobody, but I didn't have to be.  He said I could be someone to be counted."

"He was right," Wesley said.

"When people count on me they get hurt," Angel said quietly.  "I won't risk that
anymore."

* * *

"Hello?  Xander?  Are you here?" Anya called walking into Angel Investigations'
darkened offices.

A clink of glass against glass sounded to her left.  "He's out," Cordy slurred.  "Fixing my
screw-up."  The seer tossed back the shot she'd just poured for herself."

"You're drunk," Anya stated disapprovingly.  She stormed across the room and snatched
away Cordy's bottle.

"You're as bad as Dennis," Cordy said frowning.  "I tried to get drunk at home but he
wouldn't let me.  So I came here and you start bein' a pain.

"I watched Giles drink himself to death.  It was horrid," Anya said.  "Buffy and Xander
were both gone, Willow was in the hospital, we didn't know if she'd ever wake up.  We
needed Giles and then Bam! He's gone too.  He couldn't drink enough to forget that
everyone he cared about was dead or dying, but he drank enough to die.  I won't let you
do that too."

"Why not?  I killed Angel.  I wrecked him," Cordy said.  "I was doing this tragic 'you
hurt me' exit with Gunn and Wes supporting poor, helpless, little me out when we
realized Angel was the only one with a car.  Since Angel was back to normal, aka a
perfect gentleman, not to mention remorseful as all get out, he just says 'Gunn already
has the keys.  I can get back on my own.'  Then we left; only Angel didn't get home.
Angel died, because of me.  Then you brought him back.  He was hurt and it was taking
forever for him to get better so I tried to fix him.  Now he hates me and he hates himself
and he's crazy and it's all my fault."

"He just needs time to adjust," Anya replied tossing the scotch bottle in the trashcan.
"Like Xander.  Being dead and then not, it's a shock.  It confuses them, makes them
angry but they'll get over it.  He'll remember how much he love us and everything will
be fine.  They'll be glad we brought them back eventually."

* * *

"In a way you were right Xander," Wesley sighed.  "Angel believes he lost his soul
before he died.  I can't imagine why.  I know things were bad.  Angel did some very
questionable things.  He didn't lose his soul though.  He'd even taken the first few steps
back toward his proper path.  Things were getting better... or they would have been
getting better if we hadn't thrown his overtures back in his face."

"I think it's time to talk to the one person who knows exactly how Angel died," Xander
said quietly.  "I know that's the key to fixing him."

"But no one was there," Wesley protested.  "No one except Angel and he doesn't seem to
remember, not reliably in any case."

"Oh, there was one other," Xander said.  "There's the guy who killed him."

* * *

"You didn't lose your soul," Wesley's words wouldn't leave Angel in peace.

They called into question everything he'd deduced about the final months of his life.

He remembered cold and fury and failure.  He remembered blood on his hands and Cordy
and Wes stinking of fear as they confronted him.

And yet Wesley claimed he had never lost his soul.

He remembered Darla and despair and sex and agony.

Wesley said he hadn't lost his soul.

He remembered being left behind and dying.  He remembered the helpless agony of a
body that wouldn't respond and a gloating voice.  He remembered the sun.

Wesley said he'd had his soul when they left him to burn.

That couldn't be true.  It just couldn't be true.  Wes and Cordy were the best friends he'd
ever had, they wouldn't have left him to die unless he was already gone.

Wesley said they had.

Wesley said he was a good person.  Wesley said he had done nothing unforgivable.
Wesley said he helped people.

Why hadn't they helped him?  Why had they left him to die?

"Angel let it go."

"I can't Buffy.  I thought I understood, but it all falls apart if I had my soul... Buffy?
Buffy!"  Angel scanned the room, searching for a sign of the Slayer's presence.  "Buffy,
please come back," he begged of the empty room.

* * *

"How can Wolfram and Hart assist you, Mr. Harris?" Lindsey asked.  "I assure you,
we've dealt with any number of vampire clients before this."

In a movement too fast for the human eye to follow Xander grabbed the lawyer by the
throat and drug him across his desk.  "You could start by telling me how you murdered
Angel.  If I believe you, I might not kill you."

"Homicide, not murder," Lindsey replied.  "Bastard had it coming."

"Why?" Xander stressed his question by squeezing Lindsey's neck a little harder.

"He hurt Darla, treated her like some cheap whore.  I loved her, but who did she care
about?" Lindsey demanded rhetorically.  "Him, always him."

Xander shrugged.  "Poor mistreated evil demon, I mean Darla may have been a whore,
but she was never cheap.  I'm touched by her suffering.  Gimme a stake and I'll put her
out of her misery.  How'd a human like you kill Angel?"

Lindsey smirked.  "You'd be amazed at what a great equalizer a sledgehammer is.  He
couldn't do much with his brains running out on the pavement.  He just lay there until the
sun came up and erased all my problems.  It's the perfect crime actually, no body and if it
ever came to trial I could have half the jury questioning if he'd even existed with just my
opening statement."

* * *

"Angel-cakes, my are you a sight for sore eyes," Lorne enthused, hurrying across Caritas
to greet the souled vampire.  "I heard through the grape-vine you were back among the
living, if not breathing, I was wondering when you'd get around to dropping by and may
I just say how great..."

Lorne's voice ran out of steam as he paused to really look at Angel then in a much more
subdued tone of voice he said.  "Oh sweetie, you've had it rough haven't you?"

"You read people's destinies?" Angel asked uncertainly.  "Do you see their past as well?"

"To an extent," Lorne replied.  "Of course, if it's this past you're looking for I could just
tell you.  We were friends if you've forgotten."

Angel smiled a little.  "I thought we might be, it's mostly the last few months before I
died that are muddled."  The dark haired vampire sighed in frustration.  "It's like putting
a puzzle together with no idea of what it's supposed to be and half the pieces missing.
Just when I think I have it figured out I find another piece and it changes everything."

* * *

"Gotta apologize, say I'm sorry," Cordelia muttered.

After she'd sent Anya on her way, Cordy had spent several minutes grumbling about the
more than half full bottle of scotch the ex-demoness had thrown out, then she'd
remembered the bar just a few blocks away.  After spending some quality time with
alcohol, Cordy had realized what she needed to do.  Only someone had moved Xander's
warehouse and now she seemed to be lost in a fairly unsavory part of LA.

"Angel!" she called.

* * *

"Now," the disembodied voice whispered.

Angel started as he walked back toward the warehouse after talking with Lorne.

"You've got to come now."

"Buffy?" Angel asked smiling hopefully.

"No time.  You've got to come!  Now!"

"I'm coming."

For a moment Angel wondered how he was supposed to follow a disembodied voice, but
then he felt a slight tug at his hand.

Angel took off running after her.

Several blocks north of the warehouse a shriek rent the air.

Angel redoubled his speed as the empyreal touch at his hand disappeared.

A large ape-like demon towered over Cordelia, who lay slumped against a building,
looking like she'd been thrown there.

Angel's features shifted to the vampire and a low, threatening growl reverberated through
the alley.

The ape-thing turned, looked Angel over. "Find your own food vampire!" it snarled,
brandishing a crude knife at him.

Angel lunged forward, grabbing the demon's knife hand and slamming it against the
wall.  "She's not food!" he roared, catching the knife as if fell from the creature's
suddenly nerveless fingers then embedding it in the demon's throat.

The ape-thing drew one last feeble breath then died.

Angel dropped the carcass then reached down to pull Cordelia to her feet.

"You saved me," she cried wrapping him in an embrace.  Angel gagged at the alcoholic
fumes emanating from the seer.  "After I killed you, you still saved me."

"What were you thinking!" Angel demanded holding her by her shoulders at arms length
and giving her a slight shake.

"I had to talk to you," Cordelia mumbled.  "I'm so sorry."

Angel sighed and half dragging her along with him, headed back to the warehouse at a
quick pace.

"There's a shower, third door past the kitchen," Angel said once they were safely inside.

"What?" Cordy asked with a bemused frown.

"Go, it'll help sober you up," Angel said.  "I'll make coffee."

Angel searched through the cupboards until he found the grounds.

"Angel, I'm really sorry," Cordelia yelled from the bathroom.

Angel stared curiously at the coffee grounds scattered across the counter; he wasn't quite
sure what had gone wrong.  He scooped up another cup full of grounds and watched in
surprise as the scoop shook, spilling its contents again.  Angel set down the scoop and
frowned at his hands, they were shaking.  Inside his head he could hear someone
screaming in unmitigated terror.  There were rules.  You can't break the rules.  Bad
things happen.

Angel forced himself through a meditative exercise, pushing away the terror that was
both familiar and alien.

He picked up the coffee can again and started a pot brewing, then swept up the mess into
the garbage.

Thirty minutes later Cordelia sat across the table from Angel, cradling a cup of coffee.  "I
should have known better.  Wandering around after dark, drunk off my ass, I was just
asking for something to come and eat me."

"Yeah," Angel replied.  "Xander can walk you home when he gets back.  Until then, try
to stay out of trouble."

Angel headed for the door.  Cordelia jumped up and caught his arm then groaned and
clutched her head.  "Ugh, hang-overs are almost worse than visions."

Angel jerked away from her.

"Angel wait!" Cordelia yelled.  When Angel stopped and turned back she said, "I'm sorry
you died.  I was mean and you were hurting and it was all my fault.  I killed you, Angel.
I'm so sorry."

"No," Angel said quietly.  "Lindsey killed me."

"It was my fault," Cordelia insisted.  "I might as well have killed you.  I left you and you
died."

"It's not the same thing," Angel said.

"Yes it is!"

"The Powers make a distinction between me locking Wolfram and Hart's special projects
division in a room with two vampires and murder according to what Lorne says," Angel
said.  "If that's true there is no way anyone can hold you responsible for my death just
because you weren't there to stop it from happening."

"I don't give a damn about what the PTB think," Cordy replied.  "I got you killed."

"You did not," Angel insisted.  "We had a falling out, which was my fault.  I tried to
apologize; you weren't ready to accept.  Then I died, which has nothing to do with what
happened between us."

"Lindsey McDonald shouldn't have been able to kill you.  You're you, he's human, you
had to have let him, that was my fault!"

"That would have been true in a fair fight," Wesley said as he and Xander stepped into
the room.

"Of course considering Lindsey ran him over with a truck about five times then laid into
him with a sledgehammer, fair fight isn't exactly the term I'd use," Xander said.

"Angel didn't commit suicide Cordelia," Wesley clarified.  "And you didn't lose your
soul either, Angel.  We all made mistakes.  We all made bad judgment calls.  But we've
all got a second chance, I think it's time we put the past behind us, don't you?"

Angel smiled tentatively.  "Sounds like a plan.  So you'll drive Cordy home and I'll see
you both at the office tomorrow?"

Wes patted Angel on the shoulder.  "Glad to have you back he said.

"Me too," Cordelia added smiling broadly.  "Oh Xander, Anya's in town, she said she
need to talk to you.  Here's her hotel number.  If you don't go talk to her I think she'll
track you down."

* * *

"What are you playing at Angel?" Xander asked.

Angel slowly looked up from the folder Wesley had given him.  "What do you mean?"

"You can't just say you're going to start fresh and everything's magically okay again,"
Xander snapped.  "You aren't the same, you died, you have everything that happened to
you in the other dimension inside you.  You can't just ignore that."

"Why not?  What other choice do I have?" Angel said.  "Sit by and watch while guilt
destroys the people I care about, like you're doing?  Let them waste their lives trying to
'fix' me?"

"I don't get it, twenty-four hours ago, you couldn't live with this and now you can?"
Xander asked.

"Being Angel didn't cost me my soul after all," Angel said.  "I can afford to given them
what they want.  What else matters?"

* * *

Part 3:  Job Related Stress

           "No, no. I-I just want to put this whole thing behind us, get back to
             normal." – Joyce, "Dead Man's Party"

"Do I look right?" Angel asked.

"Do I look like a girl?" Xander responded.  "What do I care about how you look?"

Angel sighed, "Do I look like I'm supposed to look?  I don't remember."

"What does it matter?" Xander asked as he glanced at Angel.  Angel just waited.  Xander
rolled his eyes.  "Don't comb your hair flat, you always kept it spiked up."

"Thanks," Angel replied.  "I just want everything to be normal."

"You're a vampire with not one, but two souls, which come complete with two sets of
memories, normal isn't exactly a term I'd apply to your life," Xander pointed out.

Angel glared at him.

"I'm coming along, by the way," Xander added.

"Why?" Angel asked.

"Because the PTB want me to take care of you and I think this is asking for trouble."

"Fine, as long as you don't tell them how screwed up you think I am."

* * *

Xander watched in bemusement as Cordy flitted about the office practically humming as
she worked.

Angel watched her with a faint smile as he read through the files on several recent cases.

Wesley and even Gunn had both found reason to talk with Angel and let him know how
glad they were to have him back.

Xander couldn't believe how smoothly everything was going or much of a difference
Angel's presence made to the other three.

Guiltily Xander found himself remembering Anya's tearful calls and the fact she was
sitting in a hotel room several miles away, waiting for him to come see her.  He
remembered the distress in Willow's expression when he'd fled from her innocent hug.

"I think I'll go talk to Anh, if everyone's okay here," Xander said.

"What would be wrong?" Angel asked.

Cordelia laughed as she clasped Angel's shoulder warmly.  "Go on Xander, can't you see
everything is right here?  Finally everything's right."

* * *

Anya sat in the middle of the hotel's overly hard bed, starring at the engagement ring
Xander had given her more than five years ago.  Slowly she turned it over in her hands.

Why did I ever decide being human was a good thing, she thought.  Broken promises,
dead dreams, death, misery, loneliness.  What the hell do they need vengeance demons
for anyway; just living is the worst punishment anyone could wish on a person.

At the sound of a knock at her door Anya got up and opened it.  "Xander?" she asked in
disbelief.

"Anh, I've been a jerk these last few months.  I've had a hard time adjusting and I took it
out on you.  I'm sorry."

"You mean that?" Anya asked.

Xander fought the urge to lick his lips nervously and opened his arms to her.

Anya hugged him enthusiastically.  "Xander, I've missed you so much."

Slowly Xander reached up to cradle the back of her head.  "I've missed you too, Anh."

* * *

Angel started at the sound of the office door opening.  A haggard looking woman stepped
into the office.  "Please hear me out before you tell me I'm crazy," she requested.

"You came to the right place," Cordelia said escorting the woman to a chair.  "We
specialize in dealing with problems the police don't believe in."

Angel faded into the background as Wesley and Gunn joined them from the inner office.

"May I get you some tea Ms..." Wesley asked.

"Kelly Ricks," the woman replied.  "Do you have coffee?"

"I told you the tea idea wasn't going to fly," Gunn said to Wesley.

"I just though some of our clients might prefer a beverage that actually soothes the nerves
rather than exciting them," Wesley replied picking up a mug from the counter.  "Ms.
Ricks, if you could tell us your story?"

"Don't give me a cup you want back," Kelly advised.

"Why not?" Wesley asked curiously.

"That was how it all started," Kelly said.  "Two years ago, just after I'd gotten the
promotion to my former position, I started noticing that I'd lose things.  At first I didn't
think anything of it, everyone swears that there are office gremlins that steal your pens
every time you set one down, but it's literally true for me, well not the gremlins part, and
back then it didn't happen every time.   I just started loosing things more often than was
normal and it kept getting worse; after a few months every single pen or pencil I pick up
vanished off the face of the earth as soon as I let it go.  Now it's any thing smaller than a
notebook.  But how do you tell someone something like that without them deciding to fit
you for a straightjacket?"

Cordelia opened a drawer beneath the coffee machine and pulled out a package of
Styrofoam cups and handed one to Wesley.  "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude or anything,"
she said to Kelly.  "But the mugs are new, and we can't afford another set."

Kelly laughed, "Don't apologize, you have no idea how good it feels just to be taken
seriously."

Wesley poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Kelly as she continued her story.  "Six
months after that machines in my office started breaking when I tried to use them, my
computer has been in constant need of repair for better than a year.  I was forbidden from
using the copier, printer or the fax machine several months before I was fired.  I just
couldn't do my job with things the way they are."

She took a sip of the coffee then made a face and set the cup on the table, Gunn watched
it closely for signs of odd behavior.

"Things got better for awhile after I lost my job, for about a month nothing strange
happened to me.  I managed to find a similar job with a new company and my life
seemed to be back on track, then it all came back with a vengeance.  I didn't say anything
and did everything I could to work around the problems.  It just wasn't possible.  This is
wrecking my life and no one even believes it's happening to me," Kelly explained.  "This
is the part where you tell me I should go to a shrink, right?"

"No," Wesley replied.  "This is the part where I ask if you have any acquaintances who
practice witchcraft or voodoo."

"I never believed in things like that before this started," Kelly sighed.  "I was the type
who laughed at people who read their horoscopes in the paper.  I wasn't someone you'd
talk to about believing in voodoo.  I'm not the nicest person around; I saw the world in a
way that left no room for any occult nonsense and I was more than willing to ridicule
those who were more open minded.  If someone I knew believed in things like that, they
wouldn't have told me."

"Your problems sound like some form of hex," Wesley said thoughtfully.  "It is entirely
possible that you unwittingly insulted a practitioner of the dark arts and they did this
simply to teach you a lesson."

"If this is a lesson, I've learned it!" Kelly said.  "What do I have to do to get this stopped?
I don't have any pride left; I'll go down on my knees and beg if that's what it takes.  I just
want my life back."

"I think we should be able to break the hex," Wesley replied.  "I'll need to do some
research, if you'll leave your phone number, we'll get back to you when we've
determined how to undo this.  It shouldn't take more than a few days."

"You'll have to write it down for me," Kelly said with a sickly laugh.  "If I write it, you
won't be able to find the paper."

"Gunn, could you hand me a pencil?" Cordy asked.  Gunn leaned over and grabbed a
pencil from the jar on Cordy's desk and tossed it too her.

"It's (234) 993-4893," Kelly said.  Cordy scribbled the number down then Wesley
escorted her out the door.

A moment after Kelly left Gunn suddenly exclaimed, "What happened to her cup?  I
swear I never took my eyes off it, but it's not there!"

"Who ever cast that hex has a sense of humor," Cordelia said.  "How many time do
people say that sort of thing happens, then to have actually be true..."

"A rather cruel sense of humor," Wesley said selecting a volume from the shelf.
"Whatever close-minded rants Ms. Ricks may have indulged in she didn't deserve to
have her life disrupted like this."

"I know, still you've got to admit it's more poetic justice-y than most things we..."
Cordelia trailed off as her hands flew to her head, Angel caught her before she could fall,
holding her steady as the vision slammed through her nervous system.  "A couple of
vampires going on a rampage at the movie theater on 3rd and West Wind," she reported
when it finished.

"That doesn't sound to bad," Wesley said.  "Gunn, Angel, do you think you could handle
it?  I'd like to start researching Ms. Ricks' problem."

"Sure thing, English," Gunn said.  "You know how much I love it when you try to rope
me into research."

"Angel?" Wesley asked.  "If this is too soon for you just say so."

"I'm fine," Angel said quickly.

"Okay, we're on it," Gunn said selecting a sword from the weapon's cabinet and waving
Angel toward the door.

* * *

"Where's Angel?" Xander asked as he walked into the office.

"I had a vision, he and Gunn are taking care of it.  They left maybe fifteen minutes ago,"
Cordelia said off-handedly.

"He's what!" Xander exclaimed.

"It's a minor issue," Wesley said as he took down some notes.  "Angel assured us he's up
to it and Gunn's with him."

"Don't you think it might have been a good idea to take things slow?" Xander asked.

"Angel's back to his old self," Cordy said.  "He worked through everything and now he's
fine."

"I don't think..." Xander started to say then sighed remembering his promise.  "Where'd
they go?  It can't hurt anything to have another person as back up."

"Vampires, movie theater, 3rd and West Wood.  Knock yourself out," Cordy said.  "But
they've probably got everything under control by now."

"Thanks," he said turning and walking back out.  As he hurried back to his car Xander
muttered, "Hasn't anybody heard of easing into things?  One day back and they think it's
all cotton candy and roses.  I knew I shouldn't have left."

Xander parked illegally at the theater then ran for the lobby, to his surprise it was quiet,
but the broken glass of the display counter told him that it hadn't always been the case.

"What happened?" He asked the girl working the register gesturing to the broken counter.

"You wouldn't have believed it," the girl said excitedly, "They was this huge fight, three
weird looking guys came in and just started attacking people, one of them grabbed me, I
think he was going to * bite * me.  Then these other two guys showed up, they saved us.
I think I must have fainted, one minute I was a hostage or whatever, and then the bad
guys were gone and this really cute guy was helping me up.   He was so sweet, asking me
if I were okay and everything; it was like something from a romance novel.  I wish he'd
stuck around long enough to give me his number, but he split right after all the
excitement."

* * *

Xander grumbled about the parking ticket he'd picked up all the way back to Angel
Investigation's offices.

"I guess you were too slow to get any excitement," Gunn said when Xander walked in the
door.  "Me and Angel took care of everything."

"Where is Angel?" Xander asked.

"He said he was feeling a little tired, I dropped him off at the warehouse on the way
back," Gunn said with a shrug.  "It was pretty exciting for a first day back I guess, but
Angel handled himself fine."

"Sure," Xander said turning and heading out to his car again.

* * *

"Angel?  You in here?" Xander asked running up the stairs to Angel's room.

How can he stand to live in here, Xander wondered to himself glancing around the barren
area.  I'm getting him some posters or something before I head back to Sunnydale.  At
least I should make sure he gets a bed or something better than that stupid cot.

"Angel!" Xander yelled wandering back into the warehouse.  "I feel like I'm play hide
and seek here.  Where are you?"

Xander found a basement entrance and headed down, he frowned in confusion at the slats
leaned up against a low overhead beam, bisecting the little room.  Somehow the lay out
seemed oddly familiar.

When Xander saw Angel huddled against the back wall it all fell into place.

"Aw Angel," Xander sighed.  He shoved aside several of the makeshift bars and crouched
on the floor beside the older vampire.  "I told you this was going to fast.  You can't just
pretend nothing happened.  You're not hurt are you?"

Angel shook his head slightly, cringing away from Xander.

Xander bit his lip unhappily.  "I'll just leave you alone for awhile," he said after a few
moments.  "You're probably a little overwhelmed.  If you're not back to normal by this
evening I'll call Cordy for help, okay?"

* * *

Xander smiled with relief when Angel joined him in the kitchen for breakfast that
afternoon.  "You're feeling better?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Angel said, emptying a carton of blood into a mug.

"You're looking better," Xander commented.

"Good.  I don't want to worry anyone," Angel replied.

"You're not going back to the agency like nothing happened," Xander said.

"This morning was a slip," Angel said.  "Nothing important."

"This morning you were having a breakdown in a recreation of the cell beneath the
Bronze.  You call that nothing?" Xander demanded.

"And I'm find now," Angel said.  "I kept it together long enough to do what needed
doing, what happened afterwards doesn't matter."

"Knock, knock!" Cordelia yelled.  The two vampires heard her opening the warehouse's
outer door.

"Don't tell them," Angel asked.  "Please?  It would only upset them."

"Okay," Xander sighed, hating that he knew better, but still felt too guilty about Angel to
refuse.

"Thanks."

"Angel, remember me telling you I kept some of your old stuff?" Cordelia said coming
around the corner carrying a large box.

Angel hurried to take it from her.

"I guess you forgot to unpack while you were staying with me.  It made it easy taking it
here.  I saved some of your books, all of your drawings, your photo of Buffy, of course, a
few other odds and ends."  Cordelia gave Angel a quick grin.  "If I'd know I was going to
be able to give this stuff back to you I would have saved everything."

"Thanks," Angel replied. "I really appreciate this."

"What are friends for," Cordelia laughed.  "Come on, I'll give you a ride to the office."

"Thanks," Angel replied.  "Bye Xander, I'll see you in the morning."

"I'm coming with you," Xander said.

You don't have to bother," Angel said escorting Cordelia out.  "Everything went great
yesterday, didn't it Cordy?"

"Just like old times," Cordelia replied happily.

* * *

"... And then he just walked out!" Xander exclaimed.  "What was I supposed to do?
Angel seriously needs help, but he can pretend well enough to fool his friends.  As long
as Cordy and Wes think Angel's okay they're happy.  If Angel's not okay, they're
miserable and Cordy ends up doing stupid things.  If she gets hurt Angel's going to blame
himself, which would probably send him straight to the nuthouse and maybe Wes'll go
off the deep end too just to keep him company.  What am I supposed to do?"

"But you're okay?" Anya asked.  "Not just faking okay like Angel, right?"

"Of course I am," Xander said, leaning over to kiss Anya's cheek.  "I'm just worried
about Angel, that's all."

* * *

"I think I've got it," Wesley exclaimed.  "Unless Ms. Ricks' hex is really something
exotic this charm should protect her."

"I'll call her," Cordy said.  "How much do you think we can charge her, seeing as how
she's out of work and all?"

"I'd go with half our baseline rate," Wesley said, "Unless you want to try the installment
plan again?"

"No thank you," Cordy replied.  "I've noticed people are much more ready to part with
the cash when their memories are fresh... I'm guessing you'd be opposed to hexing
clients who stiff us right?"

"Cordelia!" Wesley exclaimed.

"It was just a suggestion," Cordy said.  "I mean this is a business not a charity right?"

"Please call Kelly, tell her to come in this afternoon so I can give her the charm and
perform a protective spell," Wesley sighed.  "Half our baseline, ask for payment up front,
she's probably the type to stop believing as soon as the problem's gone."

"Got it," Cordy said.

"This money stuff is always so much fun," Gunn said sarcastically to Angel.

Angel nodded in response.

* * *

"You really think this can help?" Xander asked.

"Of course, if I've learned anything as a Scooby, it's the value of research," Anya
replied.

"Yeah, but this problem isn't exactly of the monster variety." Xander pointed out.

"Yes, that's why we're looking for answers in the psychology section of the library."
Anya said.

* * *

Kelly set down the pencil turned her back on it for a minute then turn around picked it up
and laugh joyously.  "It's over! How can I thank you?"

"Prompt payment would be more than sufficient," Wesley said as Cordelia presented her
with an invoice.

"Gladly," Kelly said writing out a check.  "This is like getting out of jail.  I'm free to
have a life again."

Angel smiled wistfully at the excited girl, with the lifting of the hex she seemed years
younger and full of a life that had been totally absent when she first arrived.  "Good
luck," he told her quietly.

"Thanks," Kelly replied smiling broadly.  "You guys are the greatest."

"Thank you," Cordelia replied accepting the check eagerly.

* * *

Xander sighed in relief at the sight of Angel, upstairs, sitting in the kitchen, a sketchpad
in his lap, drawing.

"I take it everything when well today?" Xander asked.

"Wes helped a girl.  It's funny how breaking a curse is a good thing for everyone else,"
Angel replied, not looking up from his drawing.  "You take away the curse and they've
got a new lease on life.  With us the curse breaks and we're death incarnate.   Which isn't
to say that we're free to live right now."

"A rock and a hard place," Xander agreed.

"I was thinking more along the lines of damned if you do, damned if you don't," Angel
said.

Curious Xander leaned over Angel's shoulder to look at what he was drawing.  "Is that
Buffy?" he asked.  "She looks so young."

Angel looked at the drawing sadly.  "I drew her like she was before she was called, I have
that memory from both dimensions," he said.  "She was so innocent then, she didn't
know what it felt like to have the world's weight on her shoulders yet.  I wanted to help
her bare that burden, instead I just made it worse."

Xander glanced away, uncomfortably.  After a few moments he said.  "You know even
when things were at their worst she never quit loving you."

"And that's why Riley left her, why she never had a fair shot at being happy.  She would
have been better off if she'd never met me," Angel said.

"I can guess cheering you up is a hopeless battle," Xander sighed.

* * *

Kelly tossed and turned, moaning softly in pain.

Giving up on sleep she got up and made her way to the bathroom.  As she walked she
pressed her fingertips to her temples, feeling like she needed to hold on to keep the pain
from tearing her head apart.

She ran cold water over a washrag, rung it out, then folded it into a rectangle and held it
to her forehead.  "Oh yeah, this is the stuff," she sighed, heading back toward bed.

She stumbled over a box on the floor and dropped the washrag; it disappeared before it
hit the floor.

For a few minutes Kelly groped around for the rag, then turned on the lights for a more
careful search.

"No, this isn't happening!" she yelled when no sign of the rag turned up and her
headache went into overdrive.

Crying from pain and frustration, Kelly began grabbing up things around the apartment
and hurtling them at the walls.  Each object vanished only split seconds after leaving her
hands.

* * *

"You said he was fine," Anya said.

"Yesterday," Xander replied.  "The day before that he was definitely not fine.  Who
knows what he's going to be like when I get home today or tomorrow?"

"Okay, if he's bad again tomorrow we should research tomorrow.  Today, I think we
should go out to a movie or dinner or something," Anya suggested.

Xander sighed, "Anh, just because Angel acts okay some of the time doesn't mean he's
okay.  In fact the way he can turn everything off and act normal sort of scares me."

"Why?" Anya asked.  "Isn't it better than having him mope forever?"

"He doesn't fix anything Anh, he just pushes it away," Xander said.  "What happens
when he doesn't have anywhere left to hide from it?"

* * *

Angel felt his normal tension recede as he walked back to the warehouse.  It had been
another quiet, undemanding day.  Gunn was getting antsy and Cordelia bemoaned the
lack of income, but Angel found himself grateful for the peace.

"I... I recognize you," a voice said in a quavering tone of accusation.

Angel turned and saw Kelly standing on the other side of the street.  She looked tired and
hopeless.

"I want my money back," she demanded as she approached Angel.  "You guys didn't fix
anything!" She picked up a rock and threw it at him.  He flinched, backing away from her
even though the rock disappeared as it left her hand.

"You made it worse!" Kelly accused, backing Angel against a wall.  "I hurt!  Ever since
the day after you 'fixed' things I've been hurting!  You did this to me!"

Kelly punched Angel angrily then crumpled in a heap at his feet, sobbing.

Angel stood, frozen, his back pressed against the building behind him, staring down at
the girl.

"I'm sorry," Angel whispered after a long while.  "I tried, we tried, I should have know
better.  I'm sorry."

Angel slid past Kelly, taking care not to touch her and started toward the warehouse
again.

"Don't leave me," Kelly whimpered.  "You have to make it better."

"I can't make anything better," Angel replied.

"Please," Kelly cried hurrying after him.  Angel kept walking, ignoring the girl.

"Angel," a gentle voice reprimanded him.

"I can't Buffy," Angel replied.

"Who are you talking to?" Kelly demanded, looking around wildly.

Angel listened for the other voice, not even bothering to look at Kelly.  Only silence
answered him.

"This is what happens when I try," Angel continued defensively after a few moments.  "I
fail and everything's worse and it's all my fault!"

He squirmed uncomfortable.  Even though Buffy hadn't said anything, he could feel the
weight of her disapproval.  Angel sighed in defeat.  "Tell me what I'm supposed to do."

"I can't hold your hand every time you have act, Angel," Buffy said tiredly.  "And this is
your sort of problem, not mine.  You remember how to deal with this you just don't feel
it yet."

"I'll take her to Wes," Angel said.  "He can deal with this, I can't."

"You can too!" Buffy insisted.

"Wes can take care of it," Angel reiterated stubbornly, Buffy sighed.

Angel turned around and started back to the office, Kelly followed after him.  Two blocks
later their path was blocked by a hulking demon, it stood nearly two feet taller than
Angel, and was easily twice his weight.  Three glittering, solid blue eyes dominated its
otherwise human face.

As it stalked toward them Angel felt a welcome rush of adrenaline.  Fight or flight
reflexes kicking in, a choice made, singularity, he'd pay for it later.

Angel pushed Kelly behind him protectively.  "I'm more trouble that you're interested
in," he told the demon, letting his features shift to the vampire.

"I require the girl... alive," the demon replied.

"Then we're all on the same side here," Angel said.

The demon peered more closely at Angel.  "Oh you, I'd heard you were dust.  When I
saw her with one of your kind I assumed her champion was already dead."

"I'm not," Angel said feeling the reaction beginning to set in as the adrenaline faded from
his system.  "So either get out of the way or make yourself useful."

The demon threw back its head and laughed, revealing sharp, predatory fangs.  "We're
not on the same side, Angel," it said.  "I'm here to prevent her from being helped."

Angel licked his lips nervously, struggling to reclaim the proper frame of mind as he
readied himself for a fight.

The demon's first punch knocked Angel into the street.  Angel rolled to his feet and
attacked the creature.  It simply absorbed several blows then slammed Angel into the
building.

Angel shook his head, trying to clear it; he looked up to see the demon looming over him.
He brought up a foot and kicked it back then struggled to his feet.

The demon responded by knocking him to the pavement again.

"I'm not going to win am I?" Angel asked rhetorically as he rolled to avoid having his
ribs broken by a heavy foot.

"Then run!" Buffy's disembodied voice screamed.

Without thinking Angel scrambled to his feet, ducked under the demon's fist, caught
Kelly's hand and took off at a sprint in the direction from which they'd come.

After dodging through several abandoned buildings and empty lots Angel slowed to a
stop.

"What was that thing?" Kelly asked fearfully.  "What are you?"

"We'll double back," Angel said.  "I have to get you to Wes and the others, they'll figure
out the right thing to do.  I'm sure we lost the demon."

"What are you?" Kelly repeated as Angel started leading her toward the offices by a more
roundabout route.

"It's a long story," Angel said.  "I'm on your side, lets leave it at that."

Three blocks after they started back the demon confronted them again, this time Angel
didn't try to fight; at the first glimpse of the creature he hurried Kelly back into the maze
of alleys in another attempt to lose it.

* * *

"How long ago did he leave the offices?" Xander asked.

"A few hours," Cordelia said, he could hear the worry in her voice even over the phone.
"Isn't he back at the warehouse yet?"

"I'll start looking for him," Xander said.

"We'll do the same," Cordy replied.  "Sun's going to be up soon."

"I know," Xander said.

* * *

"It's like it senses every time we stop running!" Kelly exclaimed in a voice filled with
both frustration and dread.

Angel forced his mind through a quick meditation exercise, trying to stave off the
inevitable reaction.  Being the subject of the demon's prolonged hunt was eating up
reserves that he simply didn't have.

Physically it had been too many years since he'd had the freedom to be active and
mentally it was worse, there was too much of the other.  His memories of the early
months in LA told him he could deal with this, but that past, with it's carefully controlled
and regulated emotions was drowned beneath Puppy's murky memories of days and
weeks spent curled around wounds that never really healed, wounds that his body still
ached faintly from.

Those feelings were overwhelming, the remembrance of how the sound of footsteps on
the stairs went from being a warning to ready himself for another attempt to break him, to
a source of terror, to simply another sound.  He'd told Wesley and Cordelia about the first
two stages, hoping to shock them, to revolt them, to make them go away so he could slip
back into the undemanding existence he'd led before Whistler showed him Buffy.  He
hadn't told them about the third stage, about the resignation.  It was the worst; the quiet
hopelessness after he'd stopped dreaming of escape, stopped dreaming period, or
wishing, or even caring.  When all that was left was waiting and waiting meant nothing, it
was just the blurry aching time between the sharper pain of torture sessions.

It had been so long since he'd had to make choices, freedom from that cage and the
misery of that life meant nights like tonight; a seemingly endless chain of decisions, each
of which could potentially leave him dead and Kelly at their pursuer's mercy.

Act, react, decide and even the part of him that did those things got it wrong at least as
often as he got it right, no matter what his friends tried to tell him.

Dawn was coming, that would certainly limit his choices and wasn't that what he
wanted?  Maybe he could just stand his ground and die.  Kelly could make a run for it,
get to the others, get real help while he kept the demon busy with killing him.

"As your semi-official guardian angel, I'm really against that plan," Buffy told him.

"Is that what you are?" Angel asked.  "I've been wondering."

"Sort of," Buffy replied, Angel could sense her casual shrug even if he couldn't see it. "I
thought it has symmetry, as Giles would say, when we first met you were mine, now I'm
yours."

"So you're vetoing kamikaze missions," Angel said.

"You don't want to die like this," Buffy said.  "Not here, not now."

"What should I do?" Angel asked.

Buffy groaned in frustration.  "Think Angel!  You're as good at this stuff as I am."

"What kind of guardian angel are you any way?" Angel teased, despite the situation he
felt oddly relaxed and happy that she was staying so long.  He didn't even care that Kelly
was looking more scared every second he spent holding a conversation with apparently
empty air.

"You shouldn't even be able to hear me," Buffy exclaimed.  "If you weren't..."

"If I wasn't what?" Angel asked.

Angel got the feeling that Buffy was embarrassed.  "Crazy," she said softly.  "Really little
kids and crazy people can sense me... and you.  Since you haven't been a kid in centuries
that doesn't leave many options."

"I knew it must have some advantages," Angel said with a care-for-not shrug.  "Other
than telling me to think about something other than suicide you're not going to help are
you?  Not that I really mind, I like having you here."

"I'm helping you stay calm," Buffy protested.  "...Although that's more a side effect of
you having someone to talk to than any mystical powers stuff."

* * *

"I'm in the tunnels, that's why the reception's so poor," Xander explained.

"Maybe you should get back to the warehouse," Cordy suggested.  "What with the sun
and all."

"I can go anywhere Angel can," Xander pointed out.  "I called Anya, she wanted to help
too.  I had her go to the office to make sure that Angel didn't end up back there.  Did
anything happen last night?"

"Nope, it was all's quiet on the demon front," Cordy replied.

"Anything at all," Xander pushed.  "Anything that might have upset Angel?"

"Xander, we spent the whole night going back and forth between helping Wes with the
new cataloging system for our reference books and Gunn with weapons maintenance.  I
almost fell asleep on the job it was so dull last night," Cordy replied.

* * *

Angel and Kelly both lay collapsed in the narrow passage.  The access tunnel was barely
wider than the breath of Angel's shoulders; there was no way the over-sized demon could
get to them here.

Kelly's rapid heartbeat and ragged breathing echoed in the closed space.  The salty smell
of her tears filled the air.  "I guess terror is good for something," she said in a faltering
voice.  "I barely noticed the pain while I was busy running for my life."

Angel didn't answer her; he was too trapped in his own delayed reaction to the night.  His
eyes were wide and dilated, focusing on nothing as shakes wracked his body.   A sheen of
sweat covered his skin and thoughts whirled through his mind with a random speed that
left him unable to grasp any of them long enough for comprehension.

Buffy hovered near Angel worriedly.  After several long minutes his eyes focused on her,
somehow it was easier to concentrate on Buffy than on anything else.  They were bound
together, had been from the night they'd met.  They'd loved each other when it was pure
insanity, and nothing had changed that, not Hell nor two years separation, not death,
either his death or hers and his return to life certainly couldn't change it now.  Even now,
she was here, when he needed her most she was always here.

But she looked so worried, Angel hated that he was causing her pain again.

"It's not your fault," Buffy told him.  "They shouldn't have used the restoration spell on
Puppy, he already had his own soul, even if it was broken.  The spell burned up too much
of your strength before Willow got involved.  Why couldn't they leave well enough
alone?"

"They were only trying to help," Angel said.

"I know and I want to think that maybe it could still work out," Buffy said.  "There were
so many things that got left unresolved when you died, it made you unhappy.  You
wanted to make things right with your friends and you felt like you failed the PTB.  You
did your best thought; you were getting things back together.  You did save their lives,
and Kate's that night.  If you'd had more time, you'd have made up for what happened
with Darla.  It wasn't your fault that you died."

"I'm trying to make up for that now, but it's not working.  I can't do anything right."

"Well Puppy isn't exactly helping you deal," Buffy said with a touch of bitterness.  "If
they'd given him a decade of so maybe he could have come to terms, but oh no they had
to fix things NOW and now you're stuck with Puppy.  Hopeless, helpless, defeated
Puppy."

"Even on my best days no one would accuse me of being an optimist and really Puppy
and I are the same person, just with a few years of different experiences," Angel pointed
out.

"But you fix things," Buffy protested.  "Puppy just ends up paralyzed by what happened
to him during those years."

Buffy glanced over at Kelly; Angel's eyes followed hers.  The woman was in pain, afraid
and being stalked by a demon.

"I can't help anyone," Angel protested.

"Come on Beloved, now isn't the time," Buffy told Angel.  He felt the connection
between them strengthen.

"It's never the time," he groused.  "I don't want to do this, there are too many ways it can
go wrong."

"I believe in you," Buffy told Angel with a gentle smile, her hand hovering over his
cheek.

Angel turned his head as if to nuzzle her palm.  "It almost seems like you're really here,"
Angel said.  "I like being able to see you."

"You never have bad hair days after you're dead," Buffy told him smugly.

"I don't know why you worry about your hair so much," Angel said, relaxing as the
discussion brought other times to mind.  "It always looked nice to me."

"You were always biased," Buffy replied.  "But it's time to go to work.  I know you
smell her pain, isn't it time you did something about it?"

Angel glanced at Kelly.  "She can't take much more," he said quietly.

"Yeah, you've got to help her."

"I can't"

"You can!" Buffy snapped.  "I'll help.  We've got to take this one step at a time, how
does the big ugly keep finding you?"

"Kelly was right, he comes every time we stop running," Angel said.  He paused.  For a
second he looked irritated, then his expression transmuted into fear.  "He isn't finding us,
he's playing with us.  Letting us think we've escaped, then when we gather ourselves he
appears and sends us running again."

At Angel's words Kelly uncurled enough to stare at him.  "That's what it's been doing all
along," she said in a pained voice.  "Waiting for me to find hope, just so it could take it
away again."

Angel nodded solemnly, his dark eyes filling with sympathy.  "It's been escalating all
along," he realized.  "Things disappearing more and more.  Then the electrical
malfunctions. You said it got better when you gave up, but once you started putting your
life back together it all came back.  After we got involved, when you fought back with
magic, then the pain started.  Now there's an eight-foot demon keeping us from getting
help.  I've seen this before... damn it, where have I seen this?"

"Angel, relax, it'll come to you," Buffy advised.

"It hasn't killed," Angel said reflectively.  "Not even me, not even when it threatened to.
Why not?  What does it get by just chasing us?"

"More fear?" Buffy asked.

"Wouldn't she be even more afraid, more hopeless, if it killed the people she went to for
help?" Angel asked.  "I don't think it can kill... It hasn't got permission?  Summoned to
do someone's bidding... that fits."

* * *

I'm sure Angel had been there," Xander said when the whole group was assembled back
at the office.  "Angel and some girl, she's human, I don't know her, but I couldn't get to
them, this big, really big, demon kept chasing me off every time I tried to follow their
trail."

"A demon?" Wesley asked.  "What sort?  It may give us a clue as to what's going on."

"It was big," Xander said.  "Eight feet tall, better than four hundred pounds big.  Three
eyes..."

"Deep, bright blue right?" Angel asked and Xander nodded.  "Camphmore," she said
decisively.  "A colleague from my demon days.  We went out a few times.  He
specializes in professional jealousy.  He usually goes for long drawn out vengeance.  I
was always a one shot type of girl, but romantic betrayal generally gets the emotions
flowing right from the start, I mean how many times can you ask for a person's privates
to shrivel up and fall off before it gets redundant?  Cam didn't have that kind of emotion
to work with, usually it was all petty stuff, so he'd let them start small and then work
from there, eventually they'd ask him for something nasty enough to be worth doing."

"Wait a minute, professional jealousy?" Gunn asked.  "And Angel was with a girl?
Didn't Kelly say all her problems started right after she got a promotion?"

"She did," Wesley replied a light dawning.

"We need to find out who didn't get that job don't we?" Cordy asked, and started pulling
up files on the computer without waiting for a response.

* * *

Angel moved several yards down the tunnel from Kelly

"You can follow the demon can't you?" he asked Buffy quietly.

"Sure, follow it where?"

"To the summoner," Angel replied.  "It can't get to us here, it'll have to go back for
instructions.  I'm going to go out there, it'll come for me, I'll come back here, you'll find
out who's pulling the strings."

"Then what?" Buffy asked.

"Then you'll take me too it," Angel said.

"Um... what about the demon?"

"It comes when we start thinking, planning, I'm not going to," Angel said.  "There's a
part of me that's very good at following orders without thought or hope."

"Okay, I believe that," Buffy said.  "But what about her, and what happens when we get
there?"

"She stays here until it's safe.  I'll figure out the rest when I get there, or you will."

* * *

"Wendy Carl, worked at the same place Kelly as did when this started, they have similar
backgrounds, she probably applied for the same job, plus her family's from Sunnydale,
she had a younger sister who the Scoobies met after she started summoning ghosts to
help her pass history."

"I remember that," Xander said.  "They were really pissed off about the whole being
disturbed from their eternal rest, I can..." he glanced at Anya then trailed off.

"It was unpleasant.  The things people do to get ahead," Cordy said shaking her head.
"I've got an address."

"What are we waiting for?" Gunn asked.

* * *

Kelly watched Angel withdraw from reality, it wasn't the first time he'd done it that
night, but it still scared her.  He was the only possible source of help she'd been able to
get to and what if he didn't come back this time?

They'd tried one more quickly aborted break for it, then they'd retreated back here, and
Angel had retreated to somewhere considerably farther away from the blank, emptiness
in his expression.

After about a half hour of waiting, Angel stood up and walked away.  Terrified of being
left behind Kelly scurried after him.  As they left the access passage, Kelly felt her heart
rate accelerate.  She hung back; ready to dart back to the safety of the cramped tunnel
when the demon appeared, but still keeping Angel in sight.

The demon never appeared, but Kelly still felt more and more exposed the further they
moved from their retreat, still she couldn't bring herself to go back alone, what if
something else came for her, something smaller than the monstrosity that had pursued
them through the day and previous night?

Kelly followed Angel across town, into a residential area, followed him up the stairs to
the landing outside of an apartment.  There he paused.  Kelly crept closer.  To her alarm
he staggered, then after leaning heavily against the wall for a long moment Angel seemed
to collect himself and straightened.  He glanced at the welcome mat in front of the door.
"That makes life easy," he said to himself, then kicked the door open and walked in.

"Who do you think you are!" a vaguely familiar voice demanded and Kelly hurried after
Angel into the apartment.

"How are you summoning it?" Angel responded glaring threatening at the tall, brown
haired woman through amber eyes.

"Wendy?" Kelly asked in surprise.  "You're the one that's been doing this to me?  Why?"

"Do you have any idea what I did to get that position?" Wendy practically growled,
spinning on the other woman, Angel apparently forgotten.

"No, but it couldn't have been work," Kelly snapped.  "I would have noticed if you'd
ever done anything like that."

"Screw you!" Wendy snarled, "You think you're so great, picking up your life and
moving on.  No matter what I do you always get everything!  Well no more, Cam's been
begging me for this."  The woman clutched at a jeweled statue and yelled, "Cam!  You
can kill her.  I want you to kill her, and her friend.  Fuck making her suffer, just make her
dead."

Angel lunged for the statue as the demon that had been chasing them squeezed through
the open door.

Wendy danced back, putting her sofa between herself and Angel.  "Go ahead and kill
them Cam!" she shrieked, "Heck go ahead and kill everyone at work.  I hate 'em all, they
never appreciate anything I do!"

Kelly tackled Wendy, "That's because you never did anything, you crazy bitch!" she
yelled. The statue fell to the floor, as the two women fought.

Cam grabbed Angel by the shoulder, grinning wickedly the demon tossed him across the
room.  Angel's body smashed Wendy's kitchen table as he landed.  He rolled to his feet
and dove for the statue.  As Cam came at him again, Angel hurled the statue to the floor
then stamped on it, shattering it into a million pieces.

Cam froze where he stood, then he began to shrink in on himself, in a few seconds the
enormous, three-eyed, demon was an average man.  "What have you done?" he
demanded.  "I'm human."

"They made you human?" Angel asked in disbelief.  "That's your punishment?"  The
dark haired vampire dropped onto the sofa and started laughing.

"This is disgusting, awful," Cam growled, glaring from his new form to the souled
vampire.  Angrily the former demon snatched up a wooden shard from the broken table
and stalked toward Angel.

"Don't even think about it," an icy voice told him.  Cam looked toward the doorway to
see five latecomers, including a furious brunette, who was aiming a crossbow at his chest.
Defeated Cam dropped his makeshift stake.

"Hi Cam, long time no see," Anya greeted the other former demon cheerfully.

While Gunn separated the two women, Wesley, Cordy and Xander went to check on
Angel.  The three stared at each other in bewilderment as Angel kept laughing helplessly
as tears ran down his cheeks.

"Angel?" Cordy asked in concern.

"They... punished him... by making him... human," Angel gasped, still laughing and
crying uncontrollably.  "God... Why... couldn't... someone... have done... that... to
me?"

Part four:  Necessary Evils

            "*I* may be love's bitch, but at least *I'm* man enough to admit it."
               – Spike, "Lover's Walk"

Angel looked around the little basement room without comprehension; the last thing he
remembered was the apartment where Kelly's tormentor had lived.

Swiftly he rose to his feet and moved aside the wooden slates that acted as bars for the
make shift cell.  Angel felt insubstantial arms wrap around his waist, "Glad you're back,"
her voice whispered in his ear.  He felt her lips brush across his cheek and then she was
gone.

Angel smiled softly.  "Don't stay away long, Buffy," he said quietly then started up the
stairs.

As he approached the kitchen, Angel noticed the smell of food cooking with a confused
frown.

"This kitchen is totally inadequate," a woman's voice complained.

"We'll go shopping, Anya," Xander promised.

"We could use some other things as well," Anya announced as Angel came in.  "Oh
hello, are you in there today?" she asked him.

"Hello," Angel replied.

"You seem much less catatonic this morning," Anya said.  "Good for you."

Angel blinked at the strange woman.  "Thanks, I guess."

"Angel!" Xander exclaimed, relief apparent in his voice.

"Hi," Angel said, a little embarrassed.  "What happened to Kelly?"

"She's fine," Xander said.  "Before you say anything, you're not going back to work this
time."

"I had a bad..." Angel began.

"A bad two weeks," Xander interrupted.  "You cracked in the middle of a fight and
nearly got staked.  You spent the next three hours having hysterics.  Then for the last two
weeks you've been walking around in your own personal nightmare."

"Two weeks?" Angel asked.

"Yep," Anya said.  "Everyone's been scared half to death that you were permanently
loony."

"Sorry," Angel replied.

"Angel?" Cordy asked hopefully as she walked in.

"Hey Cordy," Angel said turning to her, his expression apologetic.

"You're okay!" Cordy exclaimed hugging Angel enthusiastically.

"Sorry," Angel repeated, over Cordy's shoulder he saw two other women.  "Harry?  It's
been... um... Hello."

"Angel, hi," Harry Doyle said.  "I hear you've been better."

"Been worse too," Angel replied.

"I'd like you to meet a colleague of mine; this is Jeanie Romain," Harry said.

Angel stepped back from Cordy.  "Pleased to meet you," he said hesitantly.

"Hello Angel," Jeanie said.  "I've worked predominately in research since finding out
that humans aren't the only sentients around here, but I started in clinical psychiatry."

"What?" Angel asked.

"She studies demon psychology," Cordy said.  "We figured we'd have to spend months
convincing the average shrink that you being crazy has nothing to do with you thinking
you're a vampire, cause, well you are a vampire.   With Jeanie we can skip that whole
stage, get right to the problem."

"You want me to talk to a psychiatrist?" Angel asked.

"Duh," Cordy replied.  "You're nuts."

"Ms. Chase, that isn't helpful," Jeanie said frowning.  "Angel you've been through a lot,
would it hurt to talk to someone?  It doesn't mean you're crazy."

"Of course I am," Angel said.  "And I'd like to stay that way."

"Angel!" Cordy exclaimed.

"I'll find a way to deal with the..." Angel trailed off searching for a term.

"Panic attacks," Anya supplied helpfully.

"You haven't been dealing," Xander said quietly.  "That's the whole problem."

"Maybe I was pushing too hard," Angel offered.  "I could take more time before I start
helping with cases again.  I'd stop trying to stop you from hovering."

"Why do you want to stay crazy?" Jeanie asked curiously.

Angel glanced at the floor uncomfortably.  "I like seeing Buffy," he mumbled.

"Buffy, the former Slayer?" Harry asked in surprise.  "She became a ghost?"

"Oh for the love of..." Cordy huffed.  "You don't have to be a lunatic to see dead people
around here.  We deal with dead people every day; ghosts, zombies, even a certain
vampire who's died a couple times now."

"Buffy's not a ghost," Angel protested.

"What is she?" Harry asked.

"She's an angel," Angel said.  "She says I can talk to her because I'm not sane."

Jeanie gave Angel an appraising look.  "Have you ever heard it said that if you can
consider the possibility that you might be insane then you're still sane?"

Angel returned her look with skepticism.  "I say I'm crazy so I must be sane; isn't that
the classical catch-22?"

"I guess it is at that," Jeanie said.  "But would it really be so bad to have someone to act
as a sounding board and an objective listener.  You said you'd find a way to deal with
what's happened to you.  Wouldn't that be easier if you had some help understanding
why the problems were occurring?"

Angel's expression wavered.

"Please talk to her," Cordy requested.

"Okay," Angel sighed.

* * *

Willow bit her lower lip nervously as she glanced at the neatly made up bed.

She searched the townhouse for notes, being extra careful, even using a levitation spell to
make sure one hadn't fallen behind the stove.  She checked the batteries in the answering
machine and her email account.

She checked the bathroom, Dawn's toothbrush was still there, she hadn't planned to
spend the night away.

With a sigh, Willow picked up the phone.  "Hello, Stacy.  It's Willow.  Did Dawn spend
the night at your hall?  ...Okay ... Could you have Carly tell her to call me?  They have
an eight 'o clock together don't they?"

* * *

"How is it going?" Wesley asked in a whisper.

"He's talking to her," Xander said.  "When Jeanie came today, I think Angel was actually
waiting for her.  Maybe this will work after all."

"Xander," Anya called, hurrying in with the cell phone pressed to her ear.  "It's Willow,
Dawn and Spike are missing."

"Damn," Xander exclaimed snatching the phone.  "Wills, how long has Dawn been
gone?"

* * *

Spike reclined back, slowly running his fingers through the long silky hair of the girl
cradled against his chest.

She sighed in her sleep and stirred.  Spike stilled, waiting for her to finish rearranging
herself.  She wrapped one arm possessively across his chest then slipped back into a
deeper sleep.

"Dawnie, you're going to be the death of me," Spike told the sleeping young woman
fondly as he remembered how this had all started...

* * *

....He'd woken to the odd sensation of a warm body pressed against his.  Small, delicate
fingers traced burning patterns across his bare chest.  When soft inviting lips skimmed
down his neck, Spike's eyes had popped open.

His first impression had been of long blond hair and a slender, feminine form.  "Am I
dreaming?  Buffy?" Spiked had asked in confusion.

"If you want," she had promised in a low voice.

Spike had grabbed the girl by the shoulders and held her at arms length.  "Dawnie! What
the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he'd demanded.

Dawn had slowly slid her hands as far down his chest as she could reach with him
restraining her.  "Seducing you," she'd answered.

Spike had felt his mouth drop open as he shoved Dawn off him and rolled to his feet.
"You... Dawnie..." Spike paused to throw a blanket over Dawn then snatched a sheet off
the bed and wrapped it around his waist.  "You're a kid!  Buffy's kid sister.  This is
disturbed."

"And that bothers you?" Dawn asked discarding the blanket.  "Besides, I'm sixteen.
Buffy was together with Angel at my age.  You're only half as old as he was."

"You are Buffy's kid sister," Spike had repeated, backing away.  Dawn stood and
followed him, her movements slow and sultry.  "What did you do to your hair?" he'd
asked, trying to keep his eyes above her neckline.

"Do you like?" Dawn asked ducking her head and shaking her hair forward over her
breasts.

"It makes you look like your sister," Spike had replied.  His heel hit the wall behind him.

"Good," Dawn whispered leaning up against Spike to kiss him.

Spike moaned at the smell/taste/feel of her, struggling to remember why he though of her
in a kid sister way.  Dawn used his reaction to deepen the kiss.

Spike lifted her in his arms and carried her back to the bed...

* * *

...And the next evening he'd resolved to never do that again.   Spike remembered that
had lasted a week exactly, then he'd gone to her and the little minx had laid out her terms.

"And here I was worrying that you were too young," he whispered.  "You knew exactly
what you wanted didn't you?"

Dawn yawned languidly.  "I wanted you," she answered.

"You wanted to own me," Spike corrected.

"I wanted you to be someone I could love," Dawn replied.

* * *

Angel held out his scarred hands.  "Not even the