Spoilers and Time Line Explanation:  I outlined this fic over a year ago, so
the timeline is going to take a little explanation.  I'm going to lay it out
as best I can and give heads up for potential spoilers, so definitely give
this section a glance before moving on to the fic, K?
-Buffy:  The Glory Arc, about midway through.  Don't read any further hear
if you don't want potential spoilers for that bit of Buffy.  In this fic,
the Sunnydale group knows that Dawn is the Key, Glory is a hell god, and
that they're in pretty serious trouble.  I take a sharp left off of Cannon
Road at that point.
-Angel:  I veer off into AU territory after Epiphany, pretty much.  No
return of Darla, no Holtz, no Connor.  Angel returns to Angel Investigations
and at that point look!  I'm off-roading in my own version of reality again!
-K.  Now that you know when I take leave of my senses...This fic is set five
years in the future from the mid-point of the Glory Arc.  All righty.  This
shouldn't come out as confusing as I'm making it sound right now.
So...yeah.  On with the fic!

Just kidding.  I had you going for a second, didn't I?  I just want to say
massive thanks and hugs for Sandy.  She gave me the music by which to write
this, helped me see what the story was going to be and in general

Part One/?

Hiding a yawn behind his hand, Angel slowly made his way down the stairs
from the second floor to the lobby of the Hyperion.  It didn't matter how
many years he spent getting up in the late afternoon and going to sleep
before dawn; he always woke up tired.  His body was set to an internal
vampire clock that dictated that he sleep as long as the sun hung in the
sky.  He'd once thought that he'd get used to his new hours but he knew
better now.

"Coffee's still hot!" Cordelia called.

Everyone else knew better as well.  Angel blinked when he realized that Gunn
and Wesley were in the lobby too.  It wasn't usual for them to show up quite
so early.  "Morning," he said.  "Is something going on that I should know
about?"

"Maybe," Gunn said.

"Ah."  That cleared everything up.  Angel decided that pursuing that point
could wait until after he'd had some coffee.  He poured himself a large mug
and added a liberal amount of sugar.  It had to help.  Cradling the heated
mug in his hands, he walked back into the lobby.  Wesley was flipping
through two books at once while Gunn was writing on a sheet of paper.  Cordy
had her laptop balanced on her knees as she surfed the web.  "What are you
looking for?"

"Gunn had an encounter last night," Wesley said.  "We're trying to find out
exactly what it was that he encountered and if it in any way effects us."

"What kind of encounter?"  Angel sat down on the couch, making sure he sat
so he couldn't see Cordy's computer screen.  He still didn't like those
things.

"Last night I had to run some kids from the old neighborhood to the
hospital.  Their mom wasn't in any condition to take'em and their dad was
long gone, and since Wes was gonna be wrapped up in the new book he just
got," Gunn poked his lover with his pencil, "there wasn't any reason for me
to be home."

-----

Gunn checked the bandage on Marissa's eye for the third time in as many
minutes.  He hated going to the hospital, hated sitting in the ER and
waiting for someone to get to him.  At least this time he wasn't sitting in
intensive care, holding Wes's hand and praying he'd wake up...he shook his
head.  This wasn't about him.  It was about the kids he was sitting with.
Marissa and Tomas had zigged when they should have zagged during their mom's
final blow out with their dad and had ended up caught in the physical
crossfire.  Their father had left town, but their mom was a wreck and
couldn't stop crying long enough to get the kids over here.  Besides, she'd
probably end up being admitted herself once the doctors go a good look at
her.

He didn't like hospitals, but he could handle them and put on a brave face
if it meant keeping the kids calm.  He'd just grit his teeth and ignore the
low-grade headache that had started humming the moment he walked into the
building.  Marissa was four and while Tomas thought he was all grown up at
six he was still holding back tears.  Marissa was going to be all right -
she'd have a heck of a shiner for a while, but Gunn was pretty sure her eye
was fine.  She had quieted down and was just crying a little now.  Better
safe than sorry, though, so she was at the hospital with them because Tomas
definitely had a broken arm.  It needed to be set and put in a cast.

Gunn was careful not to glare at the nurses' station.  He didn't want to do
anything that would delay doctors come to help them and he was pretty sure
dirty looks would guarantee that they were waiting for a long, long time.
He looked around the waiting room.  Couple guys who'd been in a fight, a few
people who looked like they'd eaten something they were regretting, the
others that he couldn't figure out at a glance...the usual late night ER
crew.

Movement caught his eye and he looked over at the one person who was walking
around instead of sitting and waiting to be called.  The tall young man had
dark hair cut short; it wasn't a military cut but it wasn't far off.  He had
dark eyes and his skin was the kind of pale that Gunn had learned to
associate with night living.  He wore a long black coat that he kept
fastened and closed even indoors.  Gunn could see black boots and dark blue
jeans where the coat ended.  The man caught Gunn's gaze and a hint of a
smile moved his lips.  He changed direction and walked over toward where the
vampire hunter was seated.

Gunn tensed.  This guy was pale and pale guys in long dark coats had a
tendency to be bad news.  He reached into his jacket and fingered the stake
he had there.  He didn't want to dust a vamp in front of the kids, not while
they were still shocky and hurting, but he would if he had to.  Maybe it
would bring a doctor over and get them a little attention sooner.

The pale man dropped into a squat a foot away from Gunn and the kids.
"Hey," he said quietly.

"Something I can help you with?" Gunn asked.

"No."  Dark eyes moved from Marissa's bandaged eye to the way Tomas
protectively cradled his arm before moving back up to meet Gunn's.  Those
eyes were almost enough to make Gunn relax.  He'd spent too many years
staring down the undead to be fooled.  This guy had a soul.  Of course,
having a soul was no guarantee that he wasn't a psycho, but at least Gunn
wouldn't have to dust him.  "I know you two are way too smart to take candy
from a stranger, but I was hoping that it would be OK if I brought you hot
cocoa."  He cocked his head to the side.  "They always keep it so cold in
here."  His voice was low and quiet, rough like he'd been asleep for a long
time and hadn't used it in while.

His first reaction was to refuse.  Who was this guy to be talking to them?
Whoever he was, he was right:  it was damn cold in that waiting room.  Just
one more reason to hate hospitals.  Gunn put on his best don't-mess-with-me
face.  "I'll be watching."

The stranger nodded, his smile becoming fully real.  He didn't reply, just
rose to his feet in a smooth motion.  He walked across the room, careful not
to brush up against any of the people sitting in the chairs.  He was also
careful to leave his hands at his sides, in Gunn's full view.  He thumbed
quarters into the machine and collected two cups of hot cocoa.  He took a
short detour to a table so he could put lids on the cups, then brought them
back to Gunn.  He made no move to hand the cups over to the kids; instead,
he watched Gunn, waiting for his reaction.

Gunn hadn't seen anything that looked wrong; besides, the kids could use
something hot.  "Thanks," he said.

The stranger handed the two cups to Marissa and Tomas.

"What do I owe you?" Gunn asked, feeling for his wallet.

The pale man shook his head, holding up a hand to refuse payment.  With a
final smile, he walked out of the ER without looking back.

"Careful with that cocoa," Gunn said.  "You don't want to burn your lips."

"It's ok," Marissa said.  She'd stopped crying and was sipping at her cup.

"It's good," Tomas said.  "Thanks, Gunn."  He relaxed for the first time
since Gunn had picked him up from his mom's apartment.

Gunn glanced around the ER.  When the pale guy came back, he was going to
try to get the guy to take a dollar in payment.  He'd looked kinda thin and
Gunn didn't want to worry about him skipping a meal or something.  The guy
had moved completely out of sight but Gunn probably had all night; he'd be
able to find him.

After a few minutes, Tomas began to squirm in his chair.  Gunn looked down
at him.  "What the matter?"

"I'm bored.  Can I go get one of the toys?"  He pointed at the low table
covered in a few scattered toys.

Gunn started to nod yes until he realized that Tomas was pointing with his
broken arm.  "What are you doing?  Doesn't that hurt?"

Tomas looked down at his arm and Gunn so the surprise move through him.  "My
arm!"  He moved up and down and then finally just began wiggling it all
over.  "It doesn't hurt!"

"Let me take a look at that."  Gunn carefully helped the kid out of his
jacket so he could get a better look at the arm.  It had been swollen and
bruised, but now the swelling had disappeared and there wasn't any
discoloration on it at all.  "Marissa?  Come here a minute, sweetie."  Gunn
twisted in his chair and gently removed her bandage.

Her black eye was gone.  "When can we go home?"

Gunn ran a hand over his head.  This was just going to send his headache
straight into migraine territory...except that he no longer had a headache.
He'd been around weird stuff long enough to know when to cut and run.
"Yeah, why not.  Let's go surprise your mom."

-----

"So the kids were completely healed.  And it wasn't the cocoa because I
didn't have any of that."  Gunn pointed as Wesley.  "I told him what
happened and now we're having our own little research-fest."

"You're sure the guy didn't make any gestures towards you?  No hocus pocus?"
Cordelia squinted at her computer.  "No multi-colored crest on the top of
his head?"

"I would have noticed any of that.  This was just a skinny really white guy
giving away cocoa.  There wasn't anything special about him."  He looked as
Wesley.  "Are there any prophecies about him?"

"Skinny really white guys giving away cocoa?  Oddly enough, no.  He doesn't
seem to be mentioned."  Wesley put his book down.  "Add in the fact that the
place where the people were healed was a hospital and I honestly don't think
I'll find anything.  Healing in a place of healing?  Not exactly a
world-shaking event."

"Did the guy feel like he might be dangerous?" Angel asked.

"No.  No, I don't think he's going to be causing trouble or anything."  Gunn
sighed and pushed his paper off to the side.

"Then why are we looking for him?" Cordelia asked.  "If he's not going to be
tearing up the city, then what do we care?  Benevolent weird stuff is good
weird stuff."

"He didn't look like he was trouble, but he looked like he might be in
trouble.  Remember, I thought he might be a vampire first off, and not a
very good one.  The guy is in serious need of a tan and a couple of steaks."
Gunn looked down at his hands.  "He looked sad," he muttered in a voice so
low Angel barely heard him.

"What?" Cordelia asked.

"He looked like maybe he could use some help," Gunn said in a louder voice.

"When I go out tonight, I'll put the word out that we're here to help,"
Angel offered.  "If anyone knows anything, I'll definitely let you know."

"Thanks," Gunn said.

Of all of them, Gunn had the strongest tendency to adopt strays, as Cordy
had once described it.  If someone needed help, then Gunn was all over being
there - whether that meant killing demons, stopping spells, or just making
sure someone got a hot meal and a place to sleep.

Angel stood up.  Now that he'd had coffee, it was time to actually have
breakfast.  He'd gotten over most of his reluctance to eat in front of the
others, but he still preferred to heat his blood in private.  Sometimes he
just didn't feel like wallowing in the fact that he was different.

"Angel, while you're up, check your phone messages," Cordelia called.
"There's one from Buffy."

As always, he was a little surprised that he didn't wince when he heard her
name.  Six years had passed since he'd left Sunnydale for good and he was
beginning to think that they'd finally made their peace with each other.  He
didn't go back to Sunnydale often and she usually avoided Los Angeles, but
he felt like they were friends now.  He clicked the answering machine and
Buffy's voice filled the back office.

//Angel, hey, it's Buffy.  Hey Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn.  No emergency, no
apocalypse, so put the weapons down and relax.  I'm just calling to remind
you that it's Dawn's graduation at the end of the month and you're all
invited.  Not just because it's a good idea to have a small army there on
graduation day, but also because it would be great to see you.  She'd be
very excited.  It's been a long time for all of us.  So, call me back and
tell me you'll be there.  Don't you dare pull a Xander on me.//

Angel erased the message and headed back to the lobby.  "Dawn's graduation?
Do you want to go?"

"Will there be another giant lizard demon?"  Cordy's eyes were wide with
faked enthusiasm.  "I'm kidding.  Yeah.  I want to take a look at how they
rebuilt the high school.  Besides, I like Dawn.  She's cool."

Wesley nodded from the couch.  "We'll be there."

"With weapons," Gunn added.

Angel nodded.  With that settled, it was time to get back to the rest of his
day.  He needed breakfast, then to do a little bit of training with
Cordelia.  They didn't have anything urgent to work on; Cordy hadn't had a
vision in days, for which he was grateful.  The headaches that came with the
visions were getting more and more painful.  A few spells Wesley had found
were able to help, but they were only temporary measures and after a few
months the pain was as bad as ever.

That night when he went out he made sure to ask around about Gunn's mystery
guy, but no one seemed to know anything about him.  Angel scattered a few
business cards around in case the guy showed up and left it at that.  When
he got home it was edging up toward dawn.  He'd lost track of time in the
last place he'd stopped.  As he walked up to the door he saw that all the
lights in the lobby were turned on.  He opened the door cautiously, holding
himself ready until he saw Gunn and Wesley in the back office.  "What are
you guys doing here?"

"I saw him again," Gunn said.

Wesley typed away on the computer.  "Are you sure we can't call Cordy?"

"Not over this.  Just suck it up and type, Wes."

"Saw who?" Angel asked.  "The pale guy?"

"Yeah.  Angel, the guy is definitely in need of help."

"What happened?"  Angel didn't take off his coat.  He might be going back
out in just a little while...although he'd be taking the sewers if this took
much longer.

"I was walking to the Quickie Mart at the end of Wesley's block a couple
hours ago because someone discovered we were out of milk and absolutely had
to have it for his tea.  As I'm heading over, I hear someone running.  Now,
Wes doesn't live in the ghetto, but the only reason for someone to be
running on the street in that part of town is because someone is chasing
him.  So I decide the milk can wait and I head over a street so I can
exactly what is up.  I turn the corner and there's this guy just tearing up
the street.  He's not jogging; he's running from something, going all out.
I stepped out into the street to see what's after him because I sorta figure
I owe him.  Marissa and Tomas are completely fine - it's like they were
never hurt in the first place.

"He sees me when I get further out in the street and he changes direction,
heading right for me.  I don't know what he's thinking so I get ready for
him to jump me, but all he does is grab my arm and pull me back into the
alley.  He drags me behind the dumpster and presses me up against the wall.
He tells me not to move, not to breathe too loud and whatever I do not to
leave the alley.  I try to tell him that I want to help and he tells me that
I can't help.  Then he takes off.  I'm not gonna leave it like that because
I still don't know what's going on, so I step out into the alley.  The
skinny guy is long gone, but I'm in time to see a pair of ugly demons go
lumbering by.  I can handle demons, so I start to head for the entrance to
the alley.  That's when I see a couple long, dark cars go cruising by.
Lawyer cars."

"Wolfram and Hart."  Angel shook his head.  "You're right.  This guy does
need help."  One day he and the lawyers were going to have a major
confrontation that only one of them would walk away from.  For the past few
years they'd been interacting in fairly petty ways, treading on each other's
toes and fouling each other's plans but never really facing off.  Maybe the
time was coming.  "What did you see after that?"

"Nothing.  I want to help the guy, but demons *and* lawyers?  I can't handle
that on my own.  I went home and dragged Wes away from his tea, but by the
time we hit the street it was quiet.  If Wolfram and Hart want this guy,
he's gotta be somebody, right?"

"Or something," Wesley said.  "He didn't say anything else to you?"

"No."

"What were the exact words he used?"

"He said, 'Don't move.  Don't breathe.  Don't leave this alley'.  And then
when I said I wanted to help, he said, 'You can't'."

"A true conversationalist," Wesley said quietly.  "We just don't have enough
information to find him.  A skinny guy who doesn't talk much just isn't
getting hits on search engines."

"Damn it."  Gunn paced the office.  "He needs help and we're right here.
We're perfect to help him and he's just running in the opposite direction."

Wesley stood up and crossed the room to catch the other man by the
shoulders.  "We can't find him on the internet tonight.  That doesn't mean
we won't find him tomorrow or the next night."

Gunn relaxed as Wesley's hands moved up and down his arms.  "I hate losing
to them."

"We haven't lost yet."

Gaze locked with Wesley's, Gunn smiled just a little bit.  "Whatever you
say," he said quietly.  He leaned forward and kissed Wesley, a brief brush
of lips, before resting his forehead against the thinner man's.

Angel looked away.  He didn't begrudge the two men the happiness they'd
found together.  He was glad that they'd connected.  He just needed to find
Cordy a decent boyfriend and he'd feel much better about the state of his
little family.

It wouldn't make him feel any better about being alone, but he was getting
used to that.  It didn't mean he didn't feel little flashes of jealousy
sometimes when the two of them shared a tiny moment and seemed to think
nothing of it, knowing that he wasn't ever going to have moments like that.
He felt the jealousy; he just kept it well hidden.  They deserved every bit
of happiness they could find.  He just sometimes wished that he could feel a
little bit of that happiness for himself.

Angel shook himself.  He didn't have time for self-pity.  "I could head back
over and start looking for him," he offered.  "There's a good sewer line in
Wes's area.  I can cover most of the area below."

"No," Gunn said.  "The way he was moving, he's either long gone or they got
him.  Going back tonight isn't going to do any good.  If they got him, we're
not going to get him out tonight.  If he got away, he could be half way to
Mexico by now."  He sighed and stepped away from Wesley.  "Thanks, though."

"Tomorrow, then."  If he could screw up Wolfram and Hart by helping Gunn's
mystery man, then Angel would do it.

"Tomorrow," Gunn agreed.

"After we go home and sleep."  Wesley caught Gunn's hand with his own.  "You
need to rest."

"So says the man who's been up reading obscure prophecies for me."

"You both go home and sleep."  Angel started shooing them toward the door.
After they left, he headed up for bed himself.

The next afternoon proved to be disappointing.  Gunn and Wesley had no luck
searching for the pale stranger in the neighborhood.  No one had seen
anything and they could find no sign of him, no hints as to where he'd gone.
Angel retraced most of his steps from the night before, this time throwing
in the fact that Wolfram and Hart were looking for the mystery man and still
no one knew anything.  By the time Angel returned to the Hyperion, Gunn and
Wesley were dispirited.

Gunn looked over at Cordelia.  "How's your head?"

"Fine, for the moment.  Look, I can't give you a vision on demand.  You know
that."  She cocked her head to the side.  "Angel, do you think people might
have been holding out because Wolfram and Hart are involved?"

"It didn't feel like that.  I can tell when people or beings are frightened.
No one liked hearing about Wolfram and Hart, but they weren't hiding
anything."  He was interrupted from explaining any more by the ringing of
the telephone.  "Got it."  Angel picked up the receiver.  "Angel
Investigations."  When Cordy glared at him he added, "We help the helpless."

//Angel?  It's Lorne.//

"Lorne?  How's it going?"

//Everything here is fine.  Look, I'm in need of a favor.  Are you and your
compadres free this evening?//

"Sure."

//Terrific.  Look, you meet me here at Caritas at midnight.  It'll take two
hours.  It'll be a walk in the park for you.//

"See you then, Lorne."

"Great.  Oh, and Angel?  Have Gunn bring that axe, K?  Talk you later!//

Angel stared at the receiver before putting it down.

"What did Lorne want?" Gunn asked.

"He's got a job for us.  He wants us to be there at midnight."

"Cool."

"He also wants you to bring your axe."  Angel just shrugged when the others
stared at him.  Like he knew what was going on?  "Look on the upside, Gunn.
We're all with you now.  If you see the pale guy tonight, we'll be there to
back you up."

"I won't need back up.  This time I'll have my axe."

Angel laughed.  They'd be able to handle whatever Lorne wanted them to do,
he had no doubt about that.  If nothing else, it would take them to a new
place to look for information.  They'd probably also have the chance to beat
up a few demons.  The night was looking up.
 

Angel took a step back after opening the door to Caritas, letting Cordelia
walk ahead of him.  "Coward," she whispered, but the smile on her face was
understanding.

Angel didn't think he was ever going to feel entirely comfortable in
Caritas.  There was too much singing and drinking and bold use of color in
it.  He liked going there...he just didn't want to go in first, that was
all.

Lorne was holding court at the bar, keeping half an eye on the demon
warbling on stage while talking to the people who surrounded him.  It
usually took some effort to catch his notice when he was the center of
attention like that; Lorne willingly gave all his focus to the people who
needed him.  Angel was ready for that; they'd arrived early to compensate
for the amount of time it would take Lorne to be able to get away.

To his surprise, Lorne caught sight of them right away.  He excused himself
from the beings surrounding him and walked over to Angel.  "You kids come on
back to my office so we can talk."  He turned around before Angel could
reply.

Angel motioned for the others to follow him, then trailed along in Lorne's
wake.  He was a little surprised to be taken all the way back to the demon's
office; it was rare that Lorne wanted enough privacy that he'd take them
back there.

As soon as they were back in the office, Gunn pulled his axe out from under
his coat.  "Lorne, why am I going to need this?"

"You might not," Lorne said.  "You might end up carrying that thing around
all night and never using it once except to check your ha...scalp in the
shine of it."

"What's the favor?" Angel asked.  He owed Lorne; they all did.  The man had
a connection to the Powers but he hadn't been drafted into the fight against
evil as the rest of them had been.  Even so, he'd been knocked around and
battered more than any bystander deserved.  If he needed a favor, Angel was
more than willing to step up.

"A friend of mine needs to visit the hospital on this side of town tonight.
I'm going to escort him, and I want all of you to come with."

"Why does he need an escort?"  Cordelia crossed her arms over her chest.
"I've got a cab company on my speed dial."

"There's a little bit of a catch."  Lorne looked down at his hands.  "My
friend has a tendency to attract attention.  It's not always pleasant
attention.  I need you to walk with us and make sure that he makes it to the
hospital and back in one peace."

"You know better than to dance around us," Cordelia said.  "What kind of
attention?"

"Mostly murderous demonic attention.  He's a really great guy and it doesn't
happen all the time but when it does?"  Lorne whistled.  "He needs more than
just little old me backing him up."

"What does he need at the hospital?" Wesley asked.

"It's his business.  He wants to go on his own; he thinks he can take care
of himself.  I know better and that's where you come in."

Angel looked over at Wesley.  The thin man was staring at Lorne
consideringly.  After a moment, he nodded.  "We'll do it," Angel said.

"Excellent."  Lorne grabbed a hat and his coat from the coat rack.  "Ah,
he's just a little bit shy.  How about we meet outside while I fetch him?
We'll be just two shakes of my tail."

"All right."  Angel was willing to lead the way out.

"What kind of friends does Lorne have?" Gunn asked as they stood out on the
street.  "I mean, I never ask anyone to help escort my friends around, and
by the way, bring an axe."

"With you, the axe is implied," Wesley said.

Gunn to a few steps toward his lover, but before they could degenerate into
play fighting the door to Caritas opened.  He changed course abruptly so he
was standing beside Wesley.

Lorne was the first out on the street, his hat brim pulled low and the
collar of his trench coat pulled high.  After a few seconds a second figure
slipped through the door.

Angel was used to seeing odd things.  He traveled through sewers, worked
with demons...odd was just another fact of life for him.  He still couldn't
keep himself from staring, though.  His nose told him that the person
standing so close to Lorne was human.  He could barely tell by looking at
him, though.  The man wore a coat as long as Angel's even though he was a few
inches shorter.  The coat was fastened even in the warm summer night.  He
also wore gloves and a baseball cap pulled low.  What startled Angel most
though was the mask.  Made from some sort of black fabric, it clung to the
man's face, obscuring everything except his eyes.  Brown eyes met Angel's
for a brief moment and then the stranger was half-hidden behind Lorne.

Cordelia's elbow in his side told him that he'd been caught staring.  Angel
coughed to cover up his pained gasp.  "Let's get going."  He took point,
leading the way down the street.  Cordy stayed close behind him.  When he
turned around, he saw Lorne practically hovering over his friend with Wesley
and Gunn bringing up the rear.

After walking for three blocks and seeing no one out on the street, Angel
began to wonder if this was some kind of joke on Lorne's part.  Get them all
hyped up for a quick walk to the hospital.  Angel didn't see the humor in
it, but he still had a tendency to miss the joke a lot of the time.  "Hey,
uh, Lorne?  Is this -"

He never finished his question.  A trio of vampires walked of an alley up
ahead of them.  The vampires didn't waste time with preliminary barbs or
insults; they just ran forward, game faces to the fore as they launched
themselves at Angel and Cordelia.  Angel took the first one down without any
trouble.  Just behind him, Cordelia dusted the second without any real
effort.  The third nearly slipped past them, but Angel was able to stake him
from behind.

The entire group stopped.  "What the hell was that?" Gunn asked.  "They were
acting like they hadn't eaten in a week."

Wesley nodded.  "That was definitely out of character.  All the vampires in
this state seem to have a deep-seated needed to make some attempt at witty
repartee.  Those fellows didn't seem interested in talking."

"That's why we need to keep moving," Lorne said.  The masked man reached out
and grasped Lorne's arm.  The club owner covered the gloved hand with his
own.  "No.  Not on your own.  They'll get you there."

Angel sighed.  "That's about what we can expect then?"  Lorne's nod was
answer enough.  "Then let's get moving.  We're bigger targets if we just
stand here."  He was more tensed up now.  This wasn't a joke.  He or one of
his people could get hurt and that wasn't going to happen.

They hadn't even made it off the block when the next attack came.  This time
it was just a single Lothrop demon and Wesley drove it off with a quickly
rattled off spell.  The man in black watched without reacting; he just moved
a little closer to Lorne once more.

"Let's move faster," Angel suggested.

Two vampire attacks and a bloody encounter with a Fritin demon later, they
reached the hospital.  Gunn and Wesley were out of breath and Cordy was so
full of adrenaline Angel wasn't sure if she'd ever get to sleep that night.
Lorne's eyes were wide and he had begun jumping at shadows.  The only one of
them who didn't seem effected by the repeated altercations was the man in
the mask.  Angel couldn't read his expression, but the man's scent betrayed
no real fear or apprehension.  Oh, he'd reacted to the attacks but as soon
as they were over the stranger was as serene as if they'd never happened.

"What now?" Gunn asked.

The stranger reached up and tapped Lorne's face gently with his gloved hand.
He ducked his head and walked away from the group and entered the
hospital.

"Now we wait for him to come back," Lorne said.

"Great," Cordelia said.  "Any idea of how long this is going to take?"

"He didn't give me an estimate, no."

"That guy had better have something more serious than a cold," Cordelia
muttered.

"Who is he?" Gunn asked.

"A friend," Lorne hedged.

"A friend who's been in town for the few days?  A friend who's been having
trouble with a certain law firm we all know and hate?"

Angel looked up.  "You think Lorne's friend is the guy we're looking for?"

"He's got the same coat, the same eyes...it's the same guy."  Gunn looked
squarely at Lorne.  "I want to know who this guy is."  He quickly explained
to Lorne what they were talking about, telling him of the two encounters
he'd had with the pale stranger.

Lorne licked his lips.  "I'm sorry.  Seriously, I wish I could tell you more
but I can't."

"Lorne, he's in trouble.  Wolfram and Hart are after him.  You know what
that means.  Whatever reason you've got for trying to him can't be stronger
than the need to protect him from them."  Angel took a step closer to Lorne.
"We can't help if we don't know what's going on."

Lorne wavered for a moment, then shook his head.  "I can't," he said.  "I
can't betray a confidence like that."

Gunn wanted to protest but Angel quieted him with a shake of his head.
"Fine," Gunn said.  "We wait."

Angel was able to watch Cordelia pace back and forth for ten minutes before
he couldn't take it any more.  "Cordy!  Why don't you and Wes take a quick
walk around the building and make sure no one's trying to sneak in the back
way?"

Wesley glared at him but followed as Cordelia immediately followed the
suggestion.  It was a good idea security wise but that was just a side
benefit.  Cordy needed to work off some of that energy before it made
everyone including her insane.

Alone with Lorne and Gunn, Angel considered trying to pressure the club
owner into revealing any information about the man they'd escorted to the
hospital, no matter how trivial.  Any information that he could get would
help him figure out how to stop Wolfram and Hart with whatever plans they
were trying to bring into fruition.  "What's your friend's name?"  He tried
doing the thing with his eyes that Cordy sometimes pretended worked on her.

Lorne took a step back.  "No way.  I don't know who told you those were
puppy eyes, by the way, but they're not working.  You have to get that lower
lip to poke out just a little more."

Angel caught himself before he could try to accentuate his pout.  The gleam
in Lorne's eyes warned him that he hadn't been completely successful.  "I'm
trying to help."

"And if it were up to me I'd be singing like the proverbial canary.  It's
not my choice though, it's his."  When Angel started to turn away
impatiently, Lorne caught his arm.  "I'm sincere, here.  I'll talk to him.
The decision to talk has to be his, though."

"Just tell me if it's the same guy I've seen," Gunn asked.

Lorne shook his head.  "I can't.  I don't keep tabs on him while he's in
town.  He stops by to see me but doesn't leave me an itinerary.  It could be
him but I can't say for sure."

Gunn gave up.  Angel decided to let it go as well.  They weren't going to
get anything else out of Lorne, not right now.  At least they now had a
starting point for looking for the man Gunn had seen.

After fifteen minutes, Wesley and a more subdued Cordelia returned.  Another
five minutes passed and before the antsiness could return the masked man
slipped out the door and joined them.

"You wore that inside the hospital?" Cordelia asked.

The silent man shrugged and turned toward Lorne.

"Time to head home, eh?" Lorne said.

Angel sighed.  It didn't look as though they were going to get any answers
from the man in black, either.  He hefted the sword he was carrying at his
side.  "I'm guessing we can expect more of the same on the way back to
Caritas?"

"Less."  The word was no more than a hoarse whisper.

Angel looked at the masked man.  "How do you know that?"

The stranger didn't answer.  He stood closer to Lorne and refused to look
anywhere except at his shoes.

He wasn't going to get any answers from him and Angel didn't want to spend
any more time out on the street than necessary.  He let Gunn and Wesley take
the lead this time,
hanging back with Cordelia so he could keep his eye on Lorne's friend.  He
couldn't figure the guy out.  He knew he couldn't have been up to anything
harmful in the hospital - Lorne wouldn't stand for that and there was no way
he'd try to involve Angel and his people in anything like that.  Angel
inhaled, scenting the air and hoping to find some clue of what had happened
in the hospital.

The sweet scent of blood filled his senses, heady and rich and full of life.
Angel staggered a little as the aroma consumed his senses, seductive and
demanding and somehow haunting as if it was something he had known before.

"Angel?  What's wrong?"  Cordelia's hand on his arm brought him back to full
awareness.  Angel nodded but didn't answer.

What the hell was going on?  Angel's gaze roamed over the man in black's
form.  He was walking slowly but steadily, giving away no visible sign that
he was injured.  He had to be, though.  No one could reek of blood the way
he did and not be badly hurt.  Angel took a few quick steps forward so he
was beside the dark clad man.  "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

The stranger nodded but didn't look at him.

That was the answer he was expecting.  "Are you sure?"

Another nod and the masked man began walking faster.

Lorne looked over at Angel and shook his head.  His expression was openly
worried though, and he sped up to match his friend's pace.

Angel gave up and dropped back to walk beside Cordelia.  What kind of person
went into a hospital whole and came out smelling as though he'd been through
a meat grinder?  He was almost certain this was Gunn's mystery man, but no
matter who he was he was in trouble and Angel wanted to help.

They reached Caritas without running into any trouble, demonic or otherwise.
Lorne opened the door to the club and ushered the masked man through the
door.  He turned and faced Angel, not letting them into the club.

"Lorne?" Wesley asked.  "What exactly is going on?"

"I just thought you might like to get paid, and then go home and forget all
about tonight."  Lorne pulled out his wallet.

"This isn't about money," Angel said.  "This was a favor.  You don't have to
pay us.  What I wish you would do is let us help."

"Look, I've told you.  This isn't my choice.  I've got to play by his rules
and abide by his decisions."

"Then talk to him and help him make the right decisions.  Lorne, he smells
of blood, like he bathed in it in the hospital."  Angel felt no pleasure
when Lorne started and looked mildly panicked.  "Whatever is happening is
something he can't handle on his own anymore."

"I'll talk to him," Lorne said.  "Look, guys, thank you, but I've got to get
back inside.  I'll talk to you later."  He darted inside.

"Blood?  What are you talking about?" Gunn asked.

"When he came out of the hospital, the guy reeked of blood."

"He didn't appear to be injured," Wesley said.  "And shouldn't the scent of
blood have attracted even more demons then we encountered on our initial
journey?"

"I know what I smelled.  He was hurt although he hid it well."  Angel stared
at the door.  He could go in.  Lorne wouldn't like it, but there wasn't much
the host could do to keep them out.  "I think I'm going to come back
tomorrow.  Just to see how things are, here."

"I think that's a good idea," Gunn said.  "In fact, I was thinking that it
might be good to get here early, say, the afternoon?"

Angel grinned.  "Sounds good to me."  There was decent sewer access in this
area.  If Gunn would hold a tarp up for him, he'd only be singed a bit when
he entered the club.

"Count me in," Cordelia said.  "I want to find out what Zorro's deal is,
too.  If he's going to be bringing the heat from Wolfram and Hart, maybe
following him can head off a couple of visions."

Wesley would go wherever Gunn went.  It was settled.  Lorne and his friend
might have been able to avoid all their questions tonight, but the next day
would be a different story.  Angel wanted to know just what the hell was
going on, and he was going to find out.
 

Part 3/?

"Knock harder!"  Angel shifted from side to side, trying to wrap the tarp
around himself more tightly.  He could feel the sun even through the thick
material, felt how very close to death he was with each passing second.

Gunn hammered on the door and Cordelia slid in beside him to add a few kicks
to the wood for emphasis.  Beside Angel, Wesley's fingers twitched and Angel
could sense the gathering of energies as the Englishman prepared to cast a
spell to shield him from the sun.

The door opened just as Angel was beginning to lose hope.  Gunn and Cordelia
jumped off to the side and Angel ran forward, sighing in relief as he felt
the protection of wood and stone surround him.  He very nearly ran Lorne
over in his haste.

"Whoa!" the club owner said, sagging back against the bar.  "Where's the
fire?"

"The top of Angel's head," Cordelia said.

Angel couldn't help it:  his hands shot up to check the top of his head and
check his hair for damage.  As soon as he realized what he was doing he
jerked his hands back down to his sides.  It was too late; everyone had seen
him do it and no one was bothering to hide their smiles.

"What's going on?" Lorne asked.  "I know this is a popular place but I
almost never have people knocking the door down to get in.  Is someone
spreading rumors that I'm going to be reprising my "Demonic Divas"
performance?  Because it's not true.  That's a show that takes it all out of
you and I just haven't had time to fully prepare myself."  He seemed to be
just chatting, but Angel didn't miss the way the tall demon made sure to
lounge directly in their path, denying them full access to the club.

"You know why we're here," Angel said quietly.

Lorne sighed.  "I don't remember you being this nosy."

"It's for good reason," Wesley said.  "Did you talk to your friend?"

"I did.  He's not real keen on the idea of talking to you, but I think I'm
wearing him down."

"Is he all right?" Angel asked.

Lorne shrugged with one shoulder.  "He says he is."

Angel nodded and stepped over Lorne's legs and then walked fully into the
club.  He'd been to Caritas after hours.  The club always looked smaller
somehow without all the bodies filling it with song and laughter and the hum
of conversation.  It only took him a few moments to spot the person he was
looking for; all he had to do was follow the scent of blood.

A man sat at the end of the bar, perched carefully on a stool.  He wore dark
blue cotton pants and his bare feet rested lightly on the dark wooden rungs.
He was shirtless, his back turned mostly toward Angel as he traced one of
his fingers around the dark mug that rested on the bar in front of him.

Angel's eyes traced the lines of abraded skin on the man's back with almost
clinical detachment.  He held to that detachment as he took in the sight of
the deep bruising and bloody scrapes that marred the pale skin.  The damage
extended onto his shoulders and then on down his arms.  Angel must have made
some sound because the seated man turned carefully to look over his
shoulder.  The vampire recognized the brown eyes that met his gaze from the
night before.  The mask was gone and the man's short dark hair did nothing
to hide the ruin of his face.  Whatever had attacked him hadn't spared him
there, either.  His forehead had been scraped raw and his nose was swollen,
obviously broken.  Bruises caused his cheeks to swell, distorting his
features even more than the jagged cuts and scrapes that crossed his face.
He looked as though his face had been ground up against a wall before he was
turned around and had the same thing happen to his back.

"Jesus."  Gunn's soft comment was filled with pity and horror.  "How the
hell did that happen in the hospital?  Who did that?"

The man at the bar flinched and turned back around.  He slid off his stool
and started walking away from them.

"Wait!" Angel said.

The stranger paused, but didn't turn around.

Angel would take what he could get.  "I know you're in trouble.  Gunn has
told me about seeing you before.  I don't know if you realize what you're up
against in this city, but we can help you.  We know Lorne.  The things that
are after you are things that we fight every day.  You trust Lorne; he
trusts us.  Give us a chance to help you."

The dark-haired man bowed his head.  And stayed in place for a few moments,
giving Cordy and Wesley a chance to catch up to them.  The host slid past
them to stand beside his friend.  "I do trust them," Lorne said.

The thin man nodded, then turned to face them.  Angel suppressed a flinch
but he saw that the others couldn't.  His chest was just as battered as his
back.  Whatever had hurt him had been trying to inflict pain as much as do
damage.  Angel didn't know why the man wasn't wrapped up in bandages and
lying down somewhere.

After watching the others recoil from his appearance, the stranger shrugged
one shoulder.  "No," he said quietly.  "Thank you."  He turned and walked
away, Lorne following close behind.

"Stay here," Angel told the others.  "Maybe I'll have better luck on my own.
Gunn, are you sure this is the guy?"

"I can't tell by the face.  Shit, man.  What if that happened the night
before, when I saw him on the street?  I should've kept looking for him.  I
shouldn't have let him stuff me in that alley..."

Wesley shouldered past Angel and cupped Gunn's face in his hands, shaking
him a little.  "Stop that.  Blaming yourself will do no good.  Just focus on
what we can do now.  It is the same man?"

"Yeah.  The voice is the same, so are the eyes and hair.  It's him."

Angel nodded.  "I'll be right back."  He followed the path Lorne and the
other man had taken, using the scent of blood to track them through the
building.  He'd never been through this part of Caritas.  For all his
chattiness, Lorne was a fairly private person.  Angel felt an urge to open
the closed doors that he passed, wanting to see what was inside.  He
repressed the desire and concentrated on following, heading up a short
flight of stairs to the second floor that he'd never seen.  More closed door
tempted him but they weren't concealing Lorne and his friend so Angel kept
going, walking down a long hall and coming up to another flight of stairs.

Angel walked up those stairs as well and found himself on a short landing
that led to another door.  He hesitated.  He was pretty sure he was running
out of building and he didn't want to open up a door and end up going up in
flames because he'd found another exit.

The choice of what to do next was taken from him when the door swung
outwards.  Sure enough, he could see daylight.  Fortunately, the sun was at
the right angle so none of it entered the building.

Lorne looked at him with little surprise.  "You're taking chances that maybe
you shouldn't be.  If I have to bring in cleaners to get your ashes out of
my carpet, I'm billing your agency."

"Where is he?" Angel asked.

"Outside," Lorne said.  "He's decided he doesn't feel much like talking any
more."

Angel took careful steps forward, shifting to one side so he could see
around Lorne.  The roof of the club was nothing like what he expected:
instead of concrete and metal, it was covered in plants.  There was even a
fairly large plot of grass in the center, growing green and lush in the
summer sun.

The grass shifted and Angel moved even further to the side, wanting to see
what had caused that.  He saw that it had been the dark-haired man, who was
lying supine in the middle of the plot, sunlight emphasizing the paleness of
his skin and the redness of his wounds.  Despite the damage, the man didn't
look to be in any pain as he stretched out his arms, opening his body to the
rays of the sun.

Lorne stepped into the building and closed the door behind himself, cutting
off Angel's view of the other man.  "Let him be.  He just gets upset every
time he sees all of you."

"That's upset?  How can you tell?"

"I can tell.  Trust me."  Lorne wrapped his arm around Angel's shoulders and
forcibly turned him around before walking him back down the hall.  "I told
him to think about it.  He's going to be in town longer than I thought and
if our friends at Wolfram and Hart are interested in him, someone's going to
have to protect him.  I can't do it and I don't want him taking off and
trying to do it on his own.  I'll keep talking to him.  I might be able to
wear him down."

"You don't sound all that hopeful."

"He's one of the most stubborn people I've ever met.  I think he could even
give Cordy a run for her money.  He'll come around, though.  He isn't
stupid.  He just needs some time to think about it."

Angel hesitated at the stairs.  "He's hurt pretty badly, Lorne."

"That's something you'd have to talk about with him.  He doesn't want to go
to a doctor and I'm not going to tie him up and take him to one."

"He wasn't hurt like that when we went to the hospital."

Lorne gave him a small shove that sent Angel down the stairs rather faster
than he'd intended to go.  Angel glared at him but took the hint.  For
whatever reason, Lorne was feeling protective and wasn't going to reveal
anymore about the man on the roof.  Angel didn't want to risk taking a
header down the next flight of stairs so he just kept his mouth shut the
rest of the way back to the main room of the club.

"Did you have any luck?" Gunn asked.

Angel shook his head.  "He's hiding in the sunlight to avoid me."

"Sunlight isn't a problem," Gunn said.  "I'll go talk to him."

"No, you won't," Lorne said.  He stretched to his full height and blocked
the doorway.

Gunn raised his hands in a gesture of peace.  "All right, all right.  I'm
just looking to help."  He sighed and leaned back against the bar, shoulder
brushing Wesley's.  "Now what do we do?"

Lorne looked out at the tables and chairs that filled the club.  "We're
having a bit of a dance night tonight..."

"No," Angel said automatically.

"I wasn't asking you to perform," Lorne said.  "I don't want to bring the
house down; not with laughter, anyway.  I was hoping that you'd volunteer to
move these tables and chairs out for me."  He leaned against the doorway.
"You'd be able to hang out until the club opens and a certain person has the
chance to come to his senses and stop hiding."

"We'll do it," Angel said.

"Hey!" Cordelia objected.  "Some of us didn't come dressed for menial
labor."

"Then you can supervise," Lorne said.  "Be our foreman of love."

"Forewoman," Cordelia said, but she was smiling.

"That too."  Lorne clapped his hands together.  "Let's get moving, people."

Cordelia hopped up on the bar beside Lorne.  "You heard the man.  Start
moving."

"That guy had better change his mind," Gunn muttered, moving to pick up a
table.

Wesley hooked a couple of chairs under his arms.  "And we'd better get free
drinks out of this."

Angel kept his mouth shut as he moved furniture.  He had some thinking to
do.  He understood why Gunn was so eager to help.  It was part of the man's
nature to reach out to the people he saw as being alone and try to adopt
them into his own family.  Wesley was going along with Gunn and Cordelia was
always ready to help, especially if it meant by doing so she could head off
a vision.  Angel wanted to try to stop whatever plans Wolfram and Hart were
attempting to fulfill, but this went deeper than that.  He wanted to make
sure that Lorne's friend was all right, that whatever had hurt him paid for
it and never had the chance to touch him again.

He glanced back over his shoulder down the hall that led to the stranger.
He couldn't get the memory of the man's eyes out of his head.  They were so
still, self-contained, as if he couldn't share any of himself even through a
glance.  The only emotion Angel was able to read there was sadness and he
suspected that those eyes were always filled with sorrow.  He wondered if
they looked that way even when he laughed.

Moving the furniture kept him moving so that no one would know he was
brooding, for which Angel was grateful.  He'd learned to hide it when he
went into a funk...not that it happened that much any more.  He had friends
and family and purpose, and if he wasn't in love at least he wasn't alone
any more.  That was enough to stop him from retreating into a dark room to
stare at the walls for hours on end.

Time passed quickly and by the time they had all the furniture moved out and
stored in a back room, the club was open and the early birds were beginning
to trickle in.  Wesley and Gunn slipped out long enough to pick up some
Chinese food for themselves and Cordelia while Lorne gave Angel a glass of
his best red.

After glancing down the hall for what felt like the millionth time, Angel
turned back around to find Lorne looking at him.  Angel ducked his head and
concentrated on the glass in front of him.

"For what it's worth," Lorne said.  "I think he'll come down.  I hope he
does."

"Why?  Have you read something about the future?  Am I supposed to help
him?"

"Nothing like that."  Lorne shifted uncomfortably.  "I don't read him.  I
just think you can help him.  Heck, your whole dysfunctional little family
could help him.  He's too much on his own and I don't like it.  Maybe being
a part of a group for a little bit would be good for him."

The club filled steadily and soon Angel was crowded against Wesley at the
bar, the two of them watching as Gunn and Cordelia took a turn on the dance
floor.  Lorne left the area behind the bar to make room for the usual
bartenders.  Angel glanced over again at them.  Marc and Ryan looked alike
enough so that the vampire was pretty sure they were related.  He still
hadn't figured out if they were fully human or not, though.  Their scents
were a little off, but considering where they worked he couldn't be sure
that it wasn't just ambient influences throwing him off.  They always had a
smile for everyone, but the moment trouble threatened, even if it was just
an argument, they were immediately there to break it up and convince the
participants to smooth it over or move on.

Movement at the hallway Angel had been keeping an eye on all night caught
his attention.  There were too many people in the way for him to have a
clear view of it, but he could tell that a figure in black had joined the
room.  Angel craned his neck, trying to get a better view.

Wesley noticed his interest.  "What is it?"

"I think I might see him."

Wesley nodded and then quickly moved out onto the dance floor.  Angel knew
that he was going after Gunn and Cordelia and he trusted him to find them.
Besides, there was no way he was going to venture out among the dancers.
He'd stay by the bar and try to track the newcomer.  He thought that he
might have a lock on him.

"Where is he?" Gunn asked.

"I think he's over that way."  There were too many people between them for
Angel to get a clear view.  Angel slowly pushed his way through the crowd,
the others moving with him as he slid through the crowd.  The person wearing
jeans and a black shirt was at the end of the bar but Angel still couldn't
see his face.  It took him a few moments more to finally be in a position to
see.

The man was facing away from him, hands cupped around a dark glass that he
occasionally sipped at.  "Is it him?" Angel asked Gunn.  He couldn't be
sure.  He just hadn't spent enough time with him.

"Maybe."  Gunn pushed forward a little, trying to get a better look.  A
Slert demon got a little nervous about the human moving in on him.  It
shifted away with an offended trill.

The noise caught the attention of the seated man, who turned to see what was
causing the trouble.  The light above the bar fell over clean, unbroken
skin, not a bruise or wound in sight.

"Holy shit," Gunn said.  "I don't understand it, but that him."

"Holy shit," Cordelia began.

"That's Xander Harris," Angel finished.
 

Part Four/?

Xander wiggled his glass in a circle, watching the liquid inside of it
swirl.  He asked for a drink and what did Marc give him?  Milk.  Lorne was
apparently in full overprotective mode and he was taking his employees with
him.  It was all right.  Xander would have rather had a soda, but the milk
was cold and it was a nice reminder that he was among friends.

He nodded his head a little bit to the music.  He didn't recognize the song,
but that was only natural.  He didn't listen music all that much any more.
He liked this one.  The beat echoed that of the heart, full of life and an
irresistible rhythm.  He liked Caritas, too.  It was a little crowded for
his tastes, but that was what the corner of the bar was for.  He could stay
off to the side and watch people laughing and having fun and not have to
worry about safety or anything else.  He was glad that Lorne had this place
and that the host let him come here.  He didn't get to spend a lot of time
with groups of people and he was grateful for the chance to do so.

He shifted his shoulders, testing the range of motion.  He experienced no
pain, no pulling.  He was fully healed.  The cuts had disappeared first but
the bruising had lingered until just a few moments ago.  He knew that he'd
spend the next few hours testing his body, making sure that he'd fully
recovered.  Even after all these years, he still wasn't used to the way his
powers worked.  Lorne's garden had helped a lot.  Movement off to his right
caught his attention, but he didn't turn around until he heard someone gasp.
Wondering what was happening, he turned around.

Cordelia Chase and Angel stared back at him.

He should have known they'd be sticking around.  He told Lorne he didn't
want to talk to them, but the green demon was apparently determined to
protect him, even against his wishes.  Lorne must have suggested they stay,
hoping that meeting them again would get him to change his mind.  He
couldn't blame Lorne, though.  It was his own fault.  He could have told his
friend more about his past and avoided this.  Also, it was his own decision
to come down.  He should have stayed upstairs instead of giving in the urge
to follow the music down and see if dancing looked like it had gotten any
easier over the years.

"Xander?  Oh my god, it is you."  Cordelia moved closer to him.  "I can't
believe it.  None of us knew if you were alive or dead."

She looked good.  Her hair was shorter than he'd ever seen it and it looked
darker, but she'd been a beautiful girl and she'd grown into a truly
gorgeous woman.  Her eyes were older; she hadn't just been playing here in
LA, then, but they just made her more interesting, gave depth to the lovely
surface.

"What the hell are you doing here?  How long have you been in town and where
have you been?  I don't actually care, it's just that once upon a time you
had friends who cared very much."

Xander let his gaze drift over to Angel.  The vampire looked the same.  Of
course.  He was still dark, still strong, still handsome.  Time had only
touched him in his manners.  He looked less stiff, more at ease when
surrounded by people.  In Sunnydale he'd always seemed supremely
uncomfortable in his own skin but that seemed to be a thing of the past.  He
didn't look like he was holding himself in and apart, just waiting for a
chance to find a dark room to skulk in and brood for a while.  He looked...

"Do you have any idea what you did to Willow?  To Buffy?  God, Anya left
town and they hear from her almost as much as they hear from you.  You
destroyed them and you don't even give a damn."

Xander wasn't going to look at Angel any more.  He didn't need to think
those thoughts or risk discovering old emotions that he hadn't quite been
able to kill hiding in the corners of his heart.  He could see Wesley
standing slightly behind Angel and how the hell had that happened?  The
Englishman looked as though he'd steadied over the years.  He wasn't acting
like an observer desperate to join in the fun, but rather like he was part
of the action.  That was good.  Xander hadn't liked him, but then how could
he like another man that distracted Cordelia and was smarter than him and
had an accent?

"Do want to hear about how long Willow spent crying?  Do you?  Do you want
to know about when Buffy called us terrified because Willow was staying up
all night, every night trying to find you?"

Just beyond Wesley was the man Xander had heard them call Gunn.  He
recognized him from the hospital.  Xander had only been there to scout out
the lay out of the building but he couldn't resist helping the kids Gunn had
been with.  With the clarity of hindsight he could see that perhaps that he
shouldn't have done it; it would have kept him out of Gunn's notice and so
out of everyone else's.  He'd learned that there was no way to change the
past, though.  The scars and the pain of the past were permanent and nothing
could erase or ease them.

"How about Buffy?  Maybe I should tell you about the way she tore Sunnydale
apart looking for anything that had hurt you or driven you off.  Maybe you
want to hear about the way she went all quiet when she realized that you
were really gone."

He didn't miss the way Gunn and Wesley stayed close to each other.  Even now
they were so close that their shoulders touched.  He looked back down at his
glass quickly before he started to stare.  He was always so fascinated by
people who were together, by the easy give and take and sharing of space
that they never even seemed noticed doing.

"Dawn cried for you.  Even after everyone else started to give up, she still
wept for you and kept hoping that you were going to come home.  She believed
in that for years, Xander.  But you just let her down all over again."

He shouldn't have come down.  He was just upsetting her and he didn't want
to do that.  He tried to avoid the west coast and California especially but
he had business in LA and he'd missed Lorne.  It wasn't much of an excuse
but it was the only one he had.  The best thing he could do was leave.  If
he stayed they might get angry with Lorne and he had caused enough trouble
so far.

"You know how much trouble they were in.  You were there every day, knowing
how impossible what they faced was, knowing how much pain Buffy was in.  You
knew she needed her friends and you just did everything you could to ruin
all of that, didn't you?"

Xander drank the rest of milk.  He wished he'd thought to bring his coat
down with him but he'd left it upstairs.  It wasn't all that cold outside
but he preferred to have a jacket just in case.

"You hurt all of them, Xander.  You hurt all of them and you did it on
purpose and you don't care.  None of this means anything to you.  When did
you turn into such a cold bastard?"

The sound of a throat clearing distracted him for just a moment and he
looked over to see Marc offering him a jacket over the bar.  Xander took it
with a small smile.  Marc then opened up the swinging entrance to the bar to
let him slip behind it.  He did so quickly, walking behind the bar to avoid
having to walk past Cordelia and the others.  In a few moments he was
outside.

Clutching Marc's jacket close, he broke out into a swift trot.  He shouldn't
attract anything except the usual number of attacks but standing still
wasn't a good idea.  He didn't have his own coat, which meant he was only
carrying a knife and a single stake.  He could hold his own in a regular
fight and he knew that if things became truly dire he could get himself out
of trouble.  He'd hate himself when it was over, but he'd still be alive.

He ignored the fact that he was also running away.  It was just a side
benefit.  He smiled a little to himself.  He was still allowed to lie to
himself.  The sound of his boots on the pavement echoed in his ears as he
increased his pace, running away from the lights of Caritas and the pieces
of his past inside.

*****

Part Five/?

Angel didn't move until Xander was completely out of sight.  It was only
then that he remembered that he could move.  He took a step backwards,
thinking that maybe he could force his way through the crowd and catch up to
the other man, but Ryan stood in his path.  The bartender didn't say
anything; he just shifted his weight every time Angel moved to make sure
that he stayed directly in front of the vampire.  Angel gave up.  Xander had
a few minutes head start on him now.  He wasn't going to be able to find
him.

"Was that really..." Wesley started to ask.

"What just happened?" Lorne asked, pushing his way through the crowd to
reach them.

Ryan relaxed and backed away from Angel.  "They upset Xan.  Cordelia yelled
at him until he decided to take off."

Lorne rounded on Cordelia.  "What did you say to him?"

"To who?  *Xan*?  That was Xander Harris!"

"Yes, and I want to know what you said to him."

Angel had never seen Lorne get angry before.  He'd seen him amused, had seen
him frightened; he'd even seen him in love.  Never angry, though.  The host
always seemed so in control of himself, only displaying the emotions that he
wanted everyone else to see.

Apparently, right now Lorne wanted them to see rage.

Cordelia held up her hands in a placating manner.  "Lorne, I don't know what
you think you know about Xander.  I know him.  I grew up with him.  A few
years ago he absolutely destroyed all the people who cared about him and
walked away from them without any explanation.  And then tonight I see him
just sitting here and having a drink like none of that ever touched him.  I
couldn't -"

"Get out," Lorne said.

"What?"  Cordelia stared at him.  "Lorne, listen, I know him."

"No you don't.  I don't know what you think you know, but you are wrong.
And right now you need to leave."

"You're kicking us out?" Gunn asked.

"For the rest of tonight, yes I am.  I'm hoping that Xander will come back
if you're gone."  Lorne's expression softened a little.  "This isn't
forever.  But I don't want you here if you're going to be hurting him."

"Hurting him?  He never said a word to defend himself!" Cordelia objected.
"Because he knows that I am right."

"He didn't say anything because getting that man to talk takes more patience
then you'll find in a boat load of nuns," Lorne said.

"What?" Angel asked.  Xander not talk?  Xander talked all the time.  Angel
could remember being fascinated by the never-ending stream of babble that
came from the young man, by the way he could talk forever and never actually
say anything.  Xander had to talk.  A quiet Xander wasn't Xander.

"I don't want to talk about this right now.  I just want you to go."  Lorne
sighed.  "I don't know if he's going to come back but I don't want there to
be anything here to stop him."

"He's got my jacket," Marc said.

Lorne's reaction was immediate:  a relieved, grateful smile.  "Good
thinking," he said.  "Thanks, Marc." His gaze hardened when he looked back
at Angel.  "It's time to go."

"Can I call tomorrow?" Angel asked.

"Call." Lorne said.  "I'll let you know when it's all right to come back."

Angel nodded.  "Let's go."

"No one gets thrown out of Caritas," Wesley said.

"Well, we just did.  Let's get going."  Angel ushered everyone out, wrapping
his arm around Cordelia's waist to pull her along with him.  He didn't stop
moving until they were all the way out the door.  Out on the street, he
couldn't help looking both ways but he found no sign of Xander.

"Would somebody mind explaining to me what the hell just happened?" Gunn
asked.  "Y'all know my skinny white guy and Cordy wants to kick his ass?"

"Let's explain as we walk," Angel suggested.  "I don't want Lorne to come
out here and tell us to move on."

"Fine.  Whatever.  Just so long as someone talks."

Cordelia shook her head.  "Not me.  I'm not ready to talk about this yet."

That left it up to Angel.  "It starts back in Sunnydale."  Gunn would know
what he was talking about; he and Cordelia occasionally talked about life
there and Gunn had come with them to visit in Sunnydale once or twice.  "It
wasn't always just Willow, Buffy, Cordy and Giles.  There was another member
of their group:  Xander."

"My skinny white guy."

"Not so skinny back then, but yeah.  He and Willow were best friends as kids
and then it was him, her and Buffy.  He was settled in Sunnydale, had a job,
had a steady girlfriend."

"Anya," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes.

"Anya?" Gunn asked.

"She left Sunnydale right after Xander did.  I'll get to that," Angel
assured him.  "So about five years ago, things got really bad in Sunnydale."

"How do you define bad on the Hellmouth?" Gunn asked.

"A hell god on the loose trying to kill Buffy and everyone around her."
Angel nodded at Gunn's impressed look.  "Yeah.  That bad.  And in the middle
of all of this Buffy and Dawn's mom died.  It was a horrible time there.
Right in the middle of it when things looked absolutely dire, Xander took
off.  He didn't give them any warning.  The only thing he did was leave
behind a nasty little note that reduced Buffy and Willow to tears.  It was
just full of dislike and hatred and it devastated them."

"It made no sense," Cordelia said.  "There hadn't been any fights, nothing
to make him want to leave.  He left his girlfriend and his best friends
behind.  They spent a long time looking for him.  Willow even wanted to hire
us, but we couldn't find any traces of him.  He was just gone and the only
thing he left behind was that damn note."

"That must have been some note," Gunn said.

"It was.  You've met Buffy.  She was in tears."

"Damn."

Damn was right.  Angel couldn't remember all the particulars of the note.
He could remember feeling sickened while Buffy read it to him.  It had
accused Buffy of failure, indicting her in her own mother's death and
blaming her for the deaths of others that Xander said she'd failed to save.
Willow was branded as selfish and greedy, so focused on her own power that
she neglected everyone around her.  Anya was insulted on every level, from
her ability to hold a conversation to her performance in bed.  Not even
Giles escaped; he was dismissed as incompetent and a hindrance to
everything Buffy tried to do.  Everyone's secret fears and personal demons
were thrown in their faces without mercy, without pity.  Angel hadn't been
able to believe that Xander could hide that level of rage and cruelty in his
heart, but the note was proof that he had.

Angel understood why everyone had been so shocked by Xander's disappearance.
The younger man had always been loyal to the point of insanity.  He'd been
willing to follow Buffy into danger that even Angel feared.  Oh, Angel could
remember Xander babbling on about being afraid and objecting to dangerous
plans, but he was always right where Buffy needed him when she needed him.
He'd even tried to face down Angelus on his own.  Bravery and loyalty were
inherent traits in Xander, no matter how much he tried to hide them.

"What the hell is he doing in LA?" Cordelia asked.

"What has he become?" Wesley countered.  "I remember Xander.  His only
involvement in the demonic and the paranormal came through his association
with Buffy.  Yet here
he is, surrounded by demons and with unexplained happenings occurring all
around him."

"I don't care," Cordelia said.  "He deliberately hurt everyone who cared
about him.  Spike is still hanging around Sunnydale.  The evil undead has
more loyalty than Xander.  We don't owe him anything."

"I do," Gunn said quietly.

"What?"

Gunn looked at the walkway to the Hyperion.  "Let's take this inside."

"Why?  So we don't scare the neighbors?  Too late.  I don't think we could
scare them any more than we already do."  She walked up to the front door
and opened it with her key.  "Come on in."

Angel stayed off to the side after he entered the hotel.  It wasn't that he
was scared of Cordelia.  He just thought it was better to stay off to the
side until they were finished.  He found that he was hoping Gunn would come
up with some with undeniable reasons for them to try to help Xander.  He was
reluctant to just walk away from the other man and pretend as though he
hadn't seen him.  He'd wanted to help before he knew it was Xander; now that
he did know, his desire to help had only increased.

"So please," Cordy said.  "Explain to me why you've lost your mind."

Gunn shook his head.  "Look, I get that he hurt your friends.  I understand
that and maybe later on I'll hold his arms for you while you hit him.  But
for right now, I'm not gonna worry about that.  I owe him because he did
something that healed Marissa and Tomas.  I owe him because he took time to
get me off the street when Wolfram and Hart were after him and that time
probably slowed him down enough so that their pet demons had the chance to
beat the crap out of him.  I owe him because for some reason those lawyers
are interested in him and I'm not gonna stand by and let them have their
way."

"If he wanted our help, why did he run away?"

"Cordy, if you were laying into me like that, I'd run away, too.  That just
shows that the guy has some survival instincts."

"Cordy," Wes interrupted.  "When Xander disappeared, did Willow try to
search for him by magical means?"

"Yeah.  She scared Buffy with the staying up all night searching for spells
and then trying them out.  She never found anything and finally Giles agreed
to try one last time with her.  They found nothing.  Giles figured that
Xander had paid someone to put a spell on him that shielded him from all of
Willow's attempts.  Which just goes to show what a slimy bastard he is,
since he went to all the trouble to hide himself like that.  He didn't want
Buffy to be able to find him and kick his ass like he so richly deserved."

"Hm."  Wesley walked to stand next to Angel.

Gunn looked at him.  "You ask a question, you get an answer and all you have
to say is 'hm'?  What's going on in that brain of yours?"

"Nothing.  Except it is exceedingly difficult to cast a spell that will
effectively hide a living being from magical searches for any period of
time.  For a spell to shield Xander from a witch as powerful as Willow for
the length of time it took for her to give up...I'm not sure even Willow
could cast that spell.  I certainly couldn't."

"So what are you saying?" Angel asked.

"I'm saying that we don't have all the information.  We know that Xander
left but we don't know the reason why and we certainly don't know what
happened to him in the interim.  I agree with Gunn.  For right now, we can't
allow his past to distract us.  We need to concentrate on finding out what
has happened to him and what sort of trouble his is in now.  The rest can
wait."

"I don't like it," Cordelia said.

"I know," Wesley said.  "Perhaps when this is over Gunn will still be
willing to hold his arms for you."

"I don't need anyone to hold his arms.  There has yet to be a day that I
couldn't take Xander Harris with my eyes closed.  If I really want to hurt
him, I'll call Sunnydale and invite everyone up."

"Don't," Angel said.

"They deserve to know."

"And they will, but let's wait until we know what's going on.  There's no
need to upset everyone and I don't want to stir up any more trouble until we
know what we're dealing with here."

"Fine.  I'll keep quiet for right now, but they deserve to know."

"And they will," Angel promised.  "For right now, I want to keep this
quiet."

Cordelia nodded.  "Fine."  She took a deep breath and relaxed as she
exhaled.  "Fine.  I'll keep my temper and my silence until we've got this
thing figured out."  She grinned a little viciously.  "But when this is
over..."  She waved one fist around in a menacing manner.

"All right.  Now that we've got Killer here under control, what do we do
now?" Gunn asked.  "Lorne isn't gonna be letting us back into Caritas
anytime soon."

"I'll go back tomorrow," Angel said.  "Just me.  Lorne will let me in and
hopefully Xander will let me talk."

"It might be better if I went," Gunn countered.  "I don't have any history
with him that could get in the way."

Angel shook his head.  "We were never friends and I left Sunnydale before he
did.  There aren't going to be any issues between us to get in the way.
Besides, I think knowing more about him could come in handy."

Gunn nodded.

Angel sighed in relief.  Good.  They had everything settled among
themselves.  Now they just had to get Lorne and Xander to let them in and
they'd have a shot of getting this figured out.

He headed back toward the kitchen, wanting to get something to eat and spend
a little time on his own.  He was surprised by some of his own reactions and
he wanted to be able to think about them for a while.  Angel emptied a bag
of blood into a saucepan and set it on low heat, wanting to give himself
plenty of time.

He wasn't surprised that he hadn't recognized Xander while he was masked.
The brown-eyed man had changed a lot.  He had quickly relearned the other
man's scent.  It was like returning to a house one had lived in for many
years after a long absence:  the way the house smelled was immediately
familiar and one wondered how it had ever been forgotten.  He'd know Xander
in a crowd now, even with his eyes closed.

Not that his eyes were a whole lot of help.  Xander was thin, lacking the
build he'd acquired working construction.  Angel had seen him once or twice
after he'd put on the muscle and had seen pictures taken later.  Now Xander
was all lean muscle, built like a runner.  He looked younger, back to the
more slender frame that Angel remembered from high school.  The short hair
helped with that; it looked a little severe but it suited the sharper angles
of his face.

The thing Angel thought was most changed were Xander's eyes.  Still dark
brown, they looked as though Xander had lived three lifetimes in the past
five years and none of them had involved much laughter.  It had been the
eyes that had thrown Angel the most.  They saw too much and hurt too much
and there weren't any smiles hidden in them any more.  They weren't the eyes
that Angel remembered.

Slowly stirring the gradually heating blood, Angel found himself hoping very
much that Lorne was calmer tomorrow night and would agree to let him in.  He
hoped even more that Xander would see him.  He wanted to know what had
happened to make him leave Sunnydale and what had happened while he was
gone.  He wanted to know what had brought Xander back to California.

He wanted...he cut off his train of thought.  For right now he would settle
for just getting a chance to talk to Xander and trying to understand what
was happening and why Wolfram and Hart were interested in him.  Why Angel
couldn't pull his thoughts away from him was a question that could wait for
another time.

*****

Part Six/?

Xander boosted himself up over the fence that partially blocked the alley in
back of Caritas.  He didn't think anyone was following him, but better safe
than sorry.  He didn't have to make anything easy for anyone who might be
trying.  It took him but a moment to used the key Lorne had given him to
open up the back service door and let himself into the club.

The rest of the night had been quiet.  He'd seen few humans and even fewer
non-humans out on the street.  He'd only encountered a couple lone vampires
and he'd been able to dispatch them fairly easily.  Once he'd faced the
reality that there wasn't anyone to back him up any more, no Willow or Buffy
who would appear at his side to kill the creature that he was struggling
with, he'd found it much easier to focus and kill them quickly.  The lack of
a safety net made it all serious for him at last.

He was grateful for the quiet of the night.  He'd needed time to think, time
to lose himself in the maze of his own thoughts and the empty streets had
given him that.  He couldn't leave LA.  He had business here that couldn't
be delayed or shifted to a new location.  He'd waited for years to have this
opportunity and he couldn't risk letting it slip through his fingers now.
At the same time, he knew he shouldn't stay in the city.  He'd attracted the
attention of Wolfram and Hart.  He'd heard whispered rumors about the law
firm, stories told in lowered voices as humans and demons alike retold
encounters with an unstoppable force that served its evil purpose by any
means necessary.  He understood their interest in him and knew that it
wasn't going to be a simple matter to persuade them that he wasn't worth it.
He believed he had a way to make sure that they let him be but it was a
plan he didn't want to follow and in the meantime it did nothing to
guarantee that the people he cared about stayed safe from the law firm's
actions.  Xander thought the best thing to do was stay as out of sight as
possible, which was why he'd been so quick to take up Lorne's offer to stay
with him.  If he was off the streets in a safe place it was far less likely
that he'd get in trouble.

Not that the plan had worked.  It had been a good idea, though.

He walked up the stairs to the second floor, his steps silent as he made his
way to Lorne's room.  He knocked on the door quietly and waited for a few
moments, but didn't get a reply.  He slowly opened the door, not wanting to
wake the host if he was sleeping inside.

The room was empty.  Xander glanced at the clock on the wall.  It was nearly
3 am.  Lorne was an adult and he could take care of himself.  He decided to
take a quick shower and then wait up for him.  He didn't want Lorne to worry
too much so he wanted to let him know that he was back as soon as possible.
Opening the door to the bathroom, he grabbed his towel off the shelf and
tossed it onto the sink before turning the water on.  He stripped quickly,
climbing into the shower and relaxing under the hot spray.

His thoughts returned again and again to Wolfram and Hart, circling the
problem but never settling on it.  Xander knew what was going on.  He didn't
want to think about one problem, so he was focusing on this one instead,
distracting himself so he didn't have to think about the thing that really
frightened him.

What if Cordelia called Sunnydale and told everyone that she'd seen him?  He
could understand her doing it; his disappearance had been hard on the
remaining members of the Scooby Gang and Cordy was still friends with them.
If he'd been in her place he'd be seriously considering giving them a call
and telling them what he'd seen.  If they came to LA it was going to make it
very difficult for him to conduct any of his business.  He tore his thoughts
away from that train of thought.  He was avoiding it for good reason.  Even
after all this time, thinking about seeing people from Sunnydale made his
stomach churn.  He concentrated on his shower, soaping himself up quickly
and getting out as soon as he could.

He dried himself off roughly, going for speed rather than enjoyment.  He
didn't want to pull on his dirty clothing again; staying with Lorne was
making him soft.  With a small smile, he took Lorne's robe.  The demon was
making him turn all squeamish; the least he could do to make it up was lend
Xander his robe.

Walking into Lorne's bedroom, Xander picked his backpack and dug around in
its contents for a moment.  He retrieved his cell phone from the bottom and
turned it on, carrying it across the room so he could sit down in the chair
in the far corner.  He dialed without looking at the buttons, the number
memorized from years of use.

There was no answer; Xander hadn't really expected one.  "It's me.
Something's happened.  I saw Cordelia and Angel and they saw me.  They might
be calling Sunnydale.  If you hear anything, call me."  He paused.  "I'll
try to call later this week."  He hung up the phone, placing it on the table
next to him.  He didn't really expect to get a call back tonight but there
was a small possibility and he'd welcome it.  Cordelia's angry words echoed
in the back of his mind and it would be nice to hear a friendly voice and
see if it might be able to drown them out for a while.

He leaned further back into the chair, the warmth of robe helping to relax
tired muscles.  He'd walked more than he should have but the chance to think
was one he'd needed.  He let his eyes close.  He'd just wait for Lorne,
apologize for running off and make sure Marc's jacket was ready to return.
He'd just...

Sleep took him before he could finish the thought.  He slid so easily into
slumber that he didn't realize what had happened until he felt fingers
gently brush his forehead.  His eyes snapped open immediately even as every
muscle tensed and readied him for action.  He relaxed when he realized that
the dark shape standing over him was Lorne.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Lorne said. "What was wrong with the bed?"

Xander shrugged.  "Waiting for you," he said simply.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but let's get you to bed.  You'll give yourself
a crick in your neck.  Come on, up we go."  He pulled Xander to his feet.

Xander allowed himself to be pulled.  "I can walk to the guest room.  Go to
bed.  It's late."

"No, you don't.  You're not sleeping in there another night."

Xander froze.  "I can leave."

"No!  Not, that's not what I meant.  You're not sleeping in the guest room
on your own again."  The smile on his face was gentle, but his grip on
Xander's shoulders was firm.  "You're having nightmares.  You've been pretty
quiet but they're bad enough to wake me up across the hall.  Stay in here
tonight.  I think having someone near could help."

"No."   Xander shook his head.  It wasn't that he didn't want to stay; he'd
learned that another person's presence definitely settled his dreams.  What
if it didn't work, though?  If Lorne was a powerful enough reader to be
disturbed across the hall, then what could being right next to Xander do?
"I could hurt you."

"Don't worry about me.  I've read futures and pasts that are so horrific
they've turned me green...er.  Your nightmares aren't any worse than what
I've already faced.  Stay with me.  Let's see if we can't get you a little
beauty sleep."

"Are you saying I'm not beautiful?"  Xander tried a pose he could remember
Cordy using, planting his hand on his hips and glaring.

"Bad choice of words, maybe.  Come on.  Give it a try for one night and see
if it helps."

Xander was tired.  He wanted to sleep and sleep deeply and not worry about
waking himself or anyone else with his nightmares.  He trusted Lorne.  "All
right," he said.

"Excellent," Lorne said.  "Let's get you into bed."

Xander headed for the door.

"Hey, hey, where are you going?"

Xander drew the robe more closely about himself.  "I left my pyjamas in the
other room," he explained.

"I've seen what you call pyjamas.  Leave them there.  You can use some of
mine."

"Lorne -"

"Come on.  Try them out."

He didn't want to argue with Lorne, especially when he didn't really care
what he wore.  He took the silk pyjamas Lorne handed to him without comment
and managed to restrain his smile.  When the host disappeared into his
bathroom, Xander changed quickly.  The material was infinitely softer
against his skin then anything he'd felt in a long time.  He slid between
the sheets to wait for his friend.

In a few minutes Lorne had joined him, drawing back the covers for a couple
brief seconds.  He settled into the bed, carefully remaining on his own side
of the bed.  "Good night," he said quietly.

"Good night," Xander replied.  "Thank you."

"Yeah, say that after you've heard me snore."

Laughing quietly, Xander allowed himself to slide into sleep.

****

Pain.  He was surrounded by pain.  It ran through his veins and vibrated
through his bones, twisting his muscles until his very skin writhed with it.
He wanted to scream with it but his throat was just another white-hot
point of agony.  He'd screamed it bloody and useless so that no sound would
emerge.  It didn't matter.  Screams were useless; they brought no mercy, no
relief.  Words were useless; no matter how he begged or pled, no matter what
he promised, they did no good.  He tried talking until he was exhausted, had
talked until the words had lost their meaning and had become just
meaningless sounds that tumbled from his lips with no effect.

He couldn't even try to hide in his own mind because the pain was there,
too.  His mind had been violated, torn apart and then slammed back together
again so that the very process of thinking ripped bloody paths through his
damaged brain.  He tried not to think but it was useless; his mind scrambled
for an answer, for a plan so he could figure out a way out of this hell,
figure out a reason why he was suffering this way but nothing came to him.
He couldn't even remember what it was like to live without this pain
although he knew he once had.

His world was agony and waiting for fire to cease burning even though he
knew it never would.  He was alone, completely and utterly.  He lived
without hope or companionship or the strength that comes with belief and
confidence and the company of friends.  He merely waited for the end of the
pain or of himself.  He no longer cared which came, so long as one of them
did.

He hadn't thought it possible but the pain increased until his entire being
was just one soundless scream.  No more no more no more no more he couldn't
take it he would lose himself in it this time surely he would be consumed no
more no //Xander// no more no more //Xander// more no

*****

"Xander!"

Xander finally tore himself out of the dream that held him captive, gasping
for air and trying to believe that what he was experiencing was real, that
the pain was banished back to his memories and nightmares.  It was Lorne
who'd brought him back to reality; the demon's hands were still on his
shoulders although he'd stopped shaking him.  "I'm here.  Are you all
right?"

"Me?"  Lorne let Xander go and lay back down beside him but didn't relax.
"I'm not the one trying to shout down the house."

"Shout?"  Xander blinked.  He almost never made noise while having a
nightmare.

"Psychically, at least.  You weren't breathing so well, either."

Psychically.  "Are you all right?"  Xander was well aware of his own
experiences and knew how horribly painful they could be for someone who
wasn't used to them.

"I'm fine.  You didn't project all that much.  I'm actually rather
surprised; I'd expected worse."  Lorne finally began to relax.

"It wasn't as bad as it was last night."

"What?"  Lorne sat up again.  "How could this count as better?"

Xander shook his head.  He didn't want to talk about it.  They were his own
personal monsters and were his to fight.  He already owed Lorne too much to
try to burden him with this.  "I can move back to the other room."

"No.  You're not going anywhere.  Just settle down and go back to sleep."

"I'd like to.  Someone keeps talking."  Xander grinned when he was hit very
gently with a pillow.  He wriggled down into the bed, getting comfortable
and waiting for sleep to come for him.  He listened as Lorne's breathing
slowed into the rhythms of sleep.  He knew it would be several more minutes
before he fell asleep himself.  When Lorne rolled over and tossed an arm
over Xander's middle, Xander smiled.  He almost never got so close to
another person.  It was nice, feeling the heat of another person against his
own.  Even more important was the tactile sense of no longer be alone.  He
felt himself relax utterly.

He wouldn't dream again that night.

*****

Part Seven/?

"I'm being serious here.  I need advice and I don't have anyone else to talk
to.  I need you guys to help me."  Cordelia's voice was plaintive, but there
was definitely a note of threat hiding in the background of it.

Angel recognized the danger through years of long association.  Cordelia was
running out of patience.  If she didn't get the answers she was looking for
then she'd stop asking so politely.

"I don't know, Cordelia.  Until we have more information I really can't give
an opinion."  Wesley looked over at Gunn.  "How about you?"

"Oh, the same thing as you said.  I can't say anything until I know what is
going on here."

Angel stayed in the back office.  If he came out then, Cordy would no doubt
try to drag him into the discussion and he wasn't having any of that.

"But how will I know if I should tell Buffy and Willow if I find out that
it's ok to tell them if I haven't thought about it yet?  I mean, they
deserve to know that he's alive but do they want to know?  They might be
happier without knowing, you know?"

"Cordy, the question is moot until we have a better idea of what is
happening here."  Wesley's voice signaled that he was losing interest in the
conversation.

"Fine.  I'll just sit here and try to figure it out on my own.  Some help
you lot are."  She sighed and fell silent.

Angel was grateful.  He'd been wrestling a little bit with that question
himself and he wanted to let the whole matter drop so hopefully he'd be able
to stop thinking about it.  He didn't know if he should call Buffy or not.
Xander had been one of her friends and no doubt she was curious about what
had happened to him.  Angel didn't feel he could tell her anything until he
knew for sure what had happened, though.  Without knowing all the facts
there was no way he could come to a decision and it was that lack of
knowledge that was slowly making him crazy.  The only way to get it figured
out was to find out what had happened and that wasn't going to happen unless
he had the chance to talk to Xander.

That was it.  He was going to have to head over to Caritas.  The daylight
would be a problem since he intended to go on his own.  If he called Lorne
first though, and the host agreed, he would find a way to make it work.  If
Lorne held the door open, he could hold a tarp over himself well enough to
guarantee that he didn't go up in flames.  He put away the book he'd been
hiding behind and stood up.  A phone call and hopefully he'd be on his way.

He waited impatiently as he listened to the phone ring over at Caritas.  It
was late afternoon so Lorne really should be up.  Finally, the other end of
the line picked up.

//Hello?//  It was Lorne's unmistakable voice.

"Don't hang up," Angel said quickly.

//And hello to you, too,// Lorne said, his voice sarcastic.  That was fine;
at least he hadn't hung up.

"You said that I could call today."

//And you've done so.  Now what?//

So Lorne wasn't going to make this easy on him.  "Now I'd like permission to
come back to Caritas and talk to Xander."

//Talk to him?  Or yell at him until he decides to leave the building?//

"Talk," Angel said quietly.  "Please, Lorne.  We wanted to help him last
night before we knew who he was.  You wanted us to help to.  I admit finding
out that he's Xander was a shock but that doesn't change the fact that he
needs help."

//No, it doesn't.  I'm just not sure you're the one to help him, though.//

"It's not going to happen again.  I've spoken to my people and we've got
everything under control here, tempers included."  Angel didn't have the
words that he was sure he needed.  "Please."

There was a long pause, and then, //Just you.  Leave the rest of the merry
men at home.//

"There's just a little problem with that.  Well, more of a big one that's
right in the middle of the sky."

//Not a problem.  There's sewer access in the storage room.  I usually keep
it locked but for today I'll make an exception.  Come up through there and
go to the bar.  No wandering around, all right?//

"All right.  Thanks, Lorne."  Angel hung up quickly, not wanting to give the
other man a chance to change his mind.  He walked out into the lobby.

"Ah, look who's decided to come out of hiding," Gunn said.  "Decided the
coast was clear, did you?"

Angel grinned at the teasing.  "I'm going out."

"Where to?" Cordy asked.

"Caritas.  I called Lorne and he agreed that I could come over if I came
alone."

"That's not fair," Cordy said.

Gunn shook his head.  "Definitely not fair.  I still think I should go."

"It's the only way he would agree," Angel said.  "We all want answers, so
I'm going to go over and get some."  He was half-tempted to sit down while
he argued with them.  This could take a while.  He wasn't sure what it said
about him that he hung out with the most stubborn people he'd ever met.

He was saved by a distraction when the front door open.  He looked over
toward it eagerly.  "Robert, hello!  What brings you here?"

"Questions," the man who'd just entered said.  Robert Torvay was a doctor in
one of the local hospitals.  Angel and the others had encountered him when a
demon had begun preying on the patients there.  He'd gotten caught up in the
investigation and had ended up learning more than he'd ever wanted to know
about the nonhuman side of life in LA.  Instead of packing his bags and
heading for a quieter place in central Wisconsin, Robert had become a
friend, patching the human members of their group when they needed it.  He
was also attempting to find a medical way to help Cordelia with the
headaches that continued to plague her.  He was a good man and good friend
and right now Angel was hoping that he'd also prove to be a good
distraction.

"Questions about what?" Cordy asked, walking around from behind the counter
to greet him.

"Something that happened at the hospital a couple nights ago.  I think I
caught a glimpse of you outside that night and I'm hoping you can shed some
light on things."

That would have been the night they escorted Xander there.  "What happened?"
Angel knew Wesley had been reading the papers diligently hoping to find
out what Xander had done in the hospital and nothing odd had been reported
in them.

"Were you there?"

"Yes," Cordy said.  "What happened?  Don't keep us in suspense."

"This hasn't been released to the papers yet and I'm not sure when or even
if it will be released so keep this under your hats."

"What?" Angel asked.  What had happened?  What had Xander done?

"There's a symposium of the top doctors in pediatrics at the hospital right
now.  Because of this, we've got a lot of really sick kids in our peds ward.
Some are there looking for treatment, others are a part of different case
studies that will be presented.  We have a completely full ward.  Well,
had."

"Had?" Gunn repeated.  "What do you mean, had?  What happened to the kids?"

"It's the damnedest thing.  That night, the night I saw you?  They all went
to bed sick and dying and breaking the hearts of every doctor who was trying
to save them.  They woke up the next morning completely healed."

"Completely?"  Angel asked.

"Cancer gone as if it had never been, degenerative disorders gone with the
damage they'd caused, failing organs restored to functionality...they're all
just healthy, happy children again.  No one can figure it but I thought
maybe that I saw you outside and figured that if anyone knew what had
happened, it would be you."  He looked around at them appealingly.  "What
happened?"

"We're not exactly sure," Angel admitted.

"I'm beginning to have an idea, though," Wesley said.  "I think Xander is a
healer."

Angel shook his head.  "No.  I would have noticed that.  If he'd been
healing Buffy and the others I would have seen it.  Besides, he got hurt a
few times and he stayed hurt."  There was no way.  Xander had gotten knocked
about often enough in Sunnydale for Angel to be sure that he healed at a
normal human rate.  Buffy healed quickly because she was a Slayer, but it
was never overnight like it would have been if Xander had been stepping in
and lending nature a hand.  He hadn't seen any increased speed in healing in
any of the others, either.

"What other explanation is there?" Wesley asked.

"What's a healer?" Robert asked.  "And who's Xander?"

"A healer is a human who has the ability to use the energy that surrounds
and permeates all living things to accelerate healing in people, or even to
heal things that medicine can't help."

"Xander is a guy I knew back in high school,"' Cordy said.  "And Angel is
right.  He isn't a healer.  The only thing special about him is his ability
to be an asshole."

"Most healers are discovered because they've performed some kind of miracle,
like healing their friends who have broken arms or even bringing dead pets
back to life.  That usually brings attention to them and some group will
take them in and begin to train them.  The Watchers are always on the look
out for them.  They are most useful colleagues and resources to have."
Wesley paused.  "I'm not sure why Xander escaped notice.  It could have
something to do with the Hellmouth.  Perhaps he didn't come into his
abilities until after he left Sunnydale."

"Or maybe he's not a healer," Cordelia said.

"Again, what other explanation could there be?  He healed the two children
Gunn brought to the hospital and the next night he healed the children's
wing.  He isn't performing magic or else Gunn would have noticed.  He fits
the profile of a healer except for the lateness of realizing his powers."
Wes had slipped into full lecture mode, drawing himself up to his full
height and clasping his hands behind his back.  "Healers draw energy into
themselves and hold it within until they use it in order heal someone.  At
normal times they are targets for demons because of their very nature.  When
they are holding quite a lot of power, the attraction that they hold for
demons increases exponentially.  I imagine that is why we experienced so
many attacks on the way to the hospital and so few after:  Xander was filled
with energy on the way to the hospital, but afterwards he'd expended all
that energy healing the children."

"How do you know so much about healers?" Gunn asked.  "I don't think we've
ever run into one before."

"They are quite rare," Wesley agreed.  "About two years ago Lorne asked me
if I knew anything about them.  I realized that I didn't know all that much
so I did some research.  It's a fascinating subject and most of it just
stuck with me."  He cocked his head to the side.  "I wonder why Lorne could
have possibly been interested in healers?"  His tone was full of exaggerated
innocence.

Cordelia crossed her arms over her chest.  "Sneaky.  You never told us
that."

"It never mattered before."  Wesley smiled.  "Still think that Xander can't
be a healer?"

"I'm not going to answer that question until Angel gets back from talking to
Xander."

Robert took a few steps forward, placing himself beside Cordy.  "If this guy
really is a healer, I'd like to talk to him."

"I'm not making any promises," Angel said.  He watched Cordy move a little
closer to Robert and repressed a smile.  He didn't miss the way they
gravitated toward each other.  He had hopes for the two of them.  Robert was
a good man, smart and levelheaded.  He was strong-minded and he treated
Cordelia with respect and gentleness.  Angel wanted there to be something
there between them, wanted Cordy to be able to find happiness with someone
and if that someone was Robert he'd be very pleased indeed.  He wasn't going
to do anything that looked like pushing, though.  He worried that any
interference on his part could ruin anything so he was being as careful as
possible.

"I'm going to head over now," Angel said.  "Robert, I hope I'll see you
again soon."

"If you like, Robert, you are more then welcome to stay for a while.  I'd be
happy to answer any questions you had about healers."  Wesley didn't crack a
smile but Gunn did, although he was careful to keep his face averted from
both Cordy and Robert.

Damn.  Those two were trying to set Cordy and Robert up, too.  Angel knew
that Wesley could be devious up to a certain point, but anywhere that he ran
into trouble, Gunn would surely be able to back him up and carry the
deception through to its conclusion.  As long as he was careful not to
accidentally ruin any scheme they set up, he was sure they'd be able to pull
it off.

"I'll be back," he promised, heading to the stairs down the basement.  It
wasn't that far by sewer to Caritas.  He was a little nervous and very
curious, so he knew he'd make good time.  He had to convince Lorne to let
him see Xander.  He had to convince Xander to tell him what was going on.
He couldn't explain why it was so important to him, but that didn't change
the need that drove him forward.  Angel refused to wonder about that too
much now.  He'd figure it out later, after he'd seen Xander.

*****

Part Eight/?

Xander awakened quickly, coming to instant awareness as he catalogued his
surroundings:  an unfamiliar room filled with cherry-stained furniture and a
luxurious bed and an attached bathroom.  He relaxed.  Lorne's room.  He was
safe.

He stretched in the bed, taking up as much space as he could since he was
alone.  It was a rare thing when he enjoyed the comfort of a bed as large as
this one and he intended to wallow for just a few moments before rising.
Xander allowed each muscle to stretch completely before relaxing utterly.
He felt refreshed, relaxed.  He'd had a better night's sleep than he'd
experienced in a long time.  He definitely owed Lorne a thank you for that.
He hadn't dreamt again after that first nightmare.  Usually one nightmare
meant that he wasn't going to sleep for the rest of the night; the images
would return again and again until they drove him from his bed exhausted and
shaken and hoping that the next night would be dreamless.

A few minutes more idleness and Xander slowly got out of bed and headed for
his own room.  He ran his hand over his arm, feeling the silk slide easily
under his palm and practically flow over his skin.  It was nice.  Someday
he'd have to think about getting a pair of his own.

He snorted.  Yeah, right.  When a man lived out of a backpack, he learned to
carry only the essentials and no matter how nice they felt silk pyjamas
didn't count as a necessity.  He pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a long
sleeved t-shirt.  He decided to skip the boots; Lorne loved his creature
comforts and Caritas was always warm.  It wasn't often he got to walk around
in bare feet and he'd indulge himself as much as possible.

He carefully repacked his bag and made sure his coat held all its usual
goodies.  He liked to be ready to go at a moment's notice.  He'd had to make
a few quick getaways in his time and he'd learned how inconvenient it was to
leave items behind.  He'd decided not to let that happen again; the things
he carried with him he'd been carrying for a while now and he wouldn't be
able to replace them easily.

Xander felt a little lonely.  It was nothing new; he'd chosen to walk a
solitary path and he'd grown used to the feeling of being alone.  For right
now, though, he didn't have to be alone.  Lorne was somewhere in the
building and Marc and Ryan would be coming into work soon.  Xander was only
a flight of stairs away from company.  It was an opportunity he didn't plan
on letting slide by.

He walked down the hall and headed down the stairs.  He heard voices before
he reached the hallway leading into the club itself and he smiled; he'd
found Lorne.  When he reached the hall, though, he realized that the voices
were raised, angry.  That wasn't right.  Anger had no place in Caritas,
especially during the off hours.  He slowed down and approached far more
cautiously, hugging the wall and sticking to the shadows.  He rarely walked
into a room without checking it out under normal circumstances; things felts
strange, so he'd be doubly careful now.  He crept forward until he could
just see inside.

Lorne was standing in front of the bar.  He'd drawn himself up to his full
height so he almost towered over the humans that faced him.  Behind the bar,
Marc had his hands below the counter, no doubt holding onto the bat and the
gun hidden beneath it.  Not that the weapons would do him any good.

Xander didn't recognize the people facing Lorne.  He didn't have to.  Their
impeccable suits and flawless hair gave them away.  Lawyers.  There was only
one type of lawyer that would be in Caritas.  Shit.  Xander hesitated.  He
was almost certain this was about him, but he didn't know if revealing
himself would help or just make things worse.  Uncertainty kept him immobile
as he stayed hidden in the shadows, listening.

"Leave," Lorne said.

"You haven't heard us out yet," said the blond haired man in the front of
the group said.

"I don't need to hear you out.  Leave."  Lorne crossed his arms over his
chest, his chin raised in stubbornness.

"Fine.  We wouldn't want to violate the peace of Caritas."  The lawyer
didn't look like a man who had been beaten.  "May I perhaps leave a message
with you?"

"I'm not a message board.  Find someone else to run your errands."

The lawyers left without further comment.  As soon as the door closed behind
them, Lorne sagged against the bar, Marc's hand on his arm in a gesture of
support.

Xander took a few moments to gather his courage and enter into the club.
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

Lorne's head shot up.  "Xander?"  He stood away from the bar and approached
Xander, placing his hands on his shoulders.  "How much did you hear?"

The hands on his shoulders were trembling.  "Enough."  He'd tried to be
careful, tried to ensure that he hadn't been followed.  He'd been foolish
when he'd given in to his own weakness and let Lorne accompany him to the
hospital.  That was most likely when Wolfram and Hart had figured out that
Lorne was sheltering him.

It was a good thing that he'd packed after awakening.  He was going to have
to leave and find a new place to hide in LA.  He'd been selfish when he'd
agreed to stay with Lorne.  Wolfram and Hart had made their intentions
clear; you didn't send a pair of Glorv demons out hunting unless you were
damn serious.  He'd ended up getting beat to hell before he was able to make
an escape from them; he wouldn't get that lucky again.  The peace of Caritas
was well known, but so was the treachery of the lawyers.  They'd find away
around it and people could get hurt when they did.  There was no way he was
going to allow innocents to be hurt because of him.  That would be the end
of Caritas and the club meant too much to Lorne and to the community at
large for Xander to allow that to happen.  "I'm leaving."

"No," Lorne said.

"Yes," Xander countered, raising his hands and laying them a top Lorne's.
"It's the only way."

"You heard them.  They won't violate the peace here.  They can't.  The
spells on this place prevent violence from being done by demons and humans
both.  You'll be safe here."

Xander shook his head.  "They'll find a way.  You know this.  I won't have
this place destroyed because of me, not by Wolfram and Hart."

"Why would they destroy Caritas?"  Angel's voice was loud in the quiet of
the empty club.

Xander jumped, as did Lorne and Marc.  He recovered quickly; he'd grown used
to the vampire giving him mild heart attacks all through high school.  So
long as the surprise wasn't followed by an immediate attempt on his life he
was able to shrug it off quickly.

Angel moved forward from the doorway he'd been standing in.  "Is it because
you're a healer?"

The stories Lorne had been telling him were true, then.  Wesley had been
able to put that together fairly quickly and with very little information.
The Englishman must have settled down quite a bit over the years to be able
to reason so well.  "Yes," he answered.

"Do you have any idea what a healer is worth?" Lorne asked.

"Wesley said they were valuable allies."  Angel took a few steps closer,
glancing over at Xander every few seconds.

Xander suddenly understood what a skittish animal went through.  If Angel
kept getting closer to him while pretending to be doing nothing of the sort,
Xander would seriously considering bolting just to see how he'd react.  For
the moment, though, he'd allow Angel to continue his careful, stealthy
approach.

"They are.  Most healers are affiliated with a group while they're just
kiddies and grow up under their protection.  Wolfram and Hart wouldn't dare
to try anything with them for fear of incurring retaliation from groups like
the Watchers or the Darson Protectorate."  Lorne smiled down at Xander.
"Xander's on his own and as far as Wolfram and Hart are concerned that means
it's open season on him."  His smile took some of sting out of his bleak
words.  "Not that they're going to get to do any hunting.  I won't let them.
They'll have to go through me, first."

"Which is why I'm leaving," Xander said.  He shook his head when Lorne tried
to object again.  "You can't stop me."

"You're worried about Caritas?" Angel asked.

Xander didn't remember him needing this much explanation before.  Maybe it
was good that Wesley was the brains of the outfit.  "This place is
important."  He looked back at Lorne and reached up to briefly touch his
cheek.  "So are you.  Stay out of this from now on."

"You can't just leave.  Xander, on your own they will find you and no one
will even know you're gone."  Lorne didn't let Xander go.

"I'll be fine.  I've been doing this for a few years."  He'd been alone for
so long, with no one to watch his back that he'd almost forgotten what it
was like to have someone look out for him.  He didn't need anyone else.  It
might not be easy, but he could take care of himself.

"Can't you just leave LA?" Angel asked.

"No."  Xander hesitated.  It couldn't hurt to tell Angel.  Lorne had
promised him that he was one of the good guys.  "I need to meet a tribe of
Lirasin demons.  They'll be moving through LA at some point in the next
week.  I'm not going to miss them."

"Lirasin?  They don't talk to humans."

"They'll talk to me."  That was all the explanation Angel was going to get.
There was answering a question and then there was giving away too much
information.  Xander had had enough of people demanding information from
him.  He now shared only what he wanted to.

"If you have to stay in LA, let me help you."  Angel moved forward a little.
"I've had run-ins with Wolfram and Hart and always survived.  I can keep
you alive, too."

"No."  It was too dangerous.  This was something Xander was going to have to
handle on his own.  He wasn't going to risk taking down anyone else with
him.  Lorne h