*****
Prologue: Numb

Unable so lost,
I can't find my way,
Been searching, but I have never seen,
A turning, a turning from deceit.

Try to reveal what I could feel,
I can't understand myself anymore,
'Cause I'm still feeling lonely,
Feeling so unholy.
And this loneliness,
It just won't leave me alone, oh no.

She sat on the bench in Boston Commons at dusk and tilted the Arrowhead bottle all the way back to get the last swallows of the vodka she'd poured into it this morning after dumping the water down the drain. Getting wasted on the Commons. She hadn't done that in going on a decade. ~That's fucked up, Faith,~ she told herself. ~Quit thinking about it.~ She tilted the bottle back again, only to remember she'd just finished it. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it away.

Yeah, getting fucked up on the Commons. There was a time in her life, when she was a kid and didn't know any better, when she'd thought maybe this would be it, the pinacle - getting trashed on the Commons. A lot had happened in the intervening years: she'd found a destiny and lost it, just like she'd found and lost so much else... she'd even found and lost herself. And now here she was, back on the Commons getting wrecked.

"Hey, you shouldn't be here after dark."

She looked up at the earnest faces before her. Two of them, a man and a woman.

"You have somewhere to go?" the man asked. "Do you need somewhere?" he amended, and she noticed the shelter emblem on his jacket.

~Good fuckin' Christ, they think I'm homeless.~ She didn't know whether to be offended or amused, and settled for indifferent.

"Motel Six," she told them, producing a key from her pocket as proof and getting up to make her way back there, her evening meditations disturbed. But even as she said it, even as they accepted it and moved on for another troubled body to help, the truth hit her.

~I want to go home.~

She could put a roof over her head; there were cheap motels in every city. But that didn't really count, even for rock stars....

'Home, sweet home.'

Well, fuck that. She had no home.

'Home is where the heart is.'

Just so. And she had no fucking heart.

'Home,' another aphorism came to her, 'is where when you go there, they have to take you in.' ~You got somewhere like that?~ she asked herself rhetorically.

With a start, she realized the answer was yes. She paused for a moment, afraid to think on it in case it vanished under close examination. But the thought stayed with her. Yes, she did have somewhere. It would be hard to go back. But something deep inside her, something she'd dredged up, told her she *could* go home again.

Reaching the motel, she impulsively threw her things into a bag and, not even stopping to call ahead, ~I'll do that from the road~, she headed for the Greyhound station.

*****
Part 1: The Right Moment

"Riley."

Even though he adored the owner of the voice that had been speaking softly in his ear for a minute or more, Riley kept his eyes closed. This time, he even rolled away onto his other side.

"I know you're awake," the voice insisted. "Time to get up."

"No," Riley mumbled into his pillow. "I'm still asleep."

The voice made a sound that Riley recognized as a version of a chuckle from one who didn't laugh often. The voice didn't contradict him, instead turning matters over to the cool hand that Riley found tracing up his spine. He shivered in his sleep, sensitive nerves being triggered involuntarily. One finger continued up to the nape of his neck, sketching spirals in the whorl of hair it found there. And still Riley slumbered on, inclining into the touch as he did so.

The finger continued on its way almost merrily, etching loops along the contours of his body. It nudged under his arm to make way for the hand that came to rest against his rib cage. Fingers and palm smoothed across the muscles of his abdomen and along the ridge of his hip as he shifted contentedly in his sleep. The hand slid off, lifting so just the fingertips remained in contact with his skin as they flitted back along the bone, dropping down and edging inward along the flesh of his thigh, until one smooth, cool fingertip finally brushed lightly over his balls and started up his cock...

Riley rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. "I'm awake now."

"No," Angel replied calmly, continuing his gentle caresses along Riley's shaft, his index finger curled to drag a blunt nail from the base to just under the head, flexing to the soft fingertip pad on the downstroke, tracing the same path again and again.

"No?" Riley asked. As his breathing pattern changed, he switched his gaze from Angel's deceptively passive face to the pale hand hovering above his pulsing cock. The finger stopped its gentle abrasions, fluttering into a fist around him with Angel's other fingers.

"You haven't been awakened yet," Angel told him.

Though Angel's hand was curled around and moving on him, it wasn't fully closed, and the featherstroking made Riley squirm. The aching of his unrelieved erection and untouched head was becoming painful.

"I'm pretty sure I have been," Riley breathed, trying to thrust into Angel's too-loose fist.

"No," Angel said again, carefully shifting to kneel between Riley's legs. "You can only be awakened with a kiss."

The sudden flush in Riley's face was matched by a rush of blood to his engorged cock, throbbing and darkened with desire. Oh god, how he loved it when Angel played with him! He was shy about it and never asked for it; it was one of the things between them that they just didn't talk about. Sex with Angel was always good... but when his lover took it upon himself to add a playful element, those spontaneous occasions aroused Riley almost unbearably.

"So kiss me."

Angel gave him only that hint of a smile, increasing neither pressure nor pace. "You've been kissed before," Angel told him. Riley's brow furrowed but before he could ask, Angel continued, "You've been kissed before, by others. But they haven't been able to awaken you."

Riley's brow relaxed even as the rest of his body grew increasingly taut. "Yes," he agreed. To show that he was following the game now, he added, "Only my true love can awaken me." His hips shifted, his cock seeking more friction, but Angel's hand deftly matched his movements, denying him.

"You're restless in your sleep," Angel observed.

Riley nodded, thrusting up vainly again. "Even in my sleep, I can sense my true love is near."

"He doesn't know that, though. That's why he's hesitating. He's come so far for this, but what if he's not the one?" Angel's hand curled closer now, fully in contact with Riley's cock, the increased pressure and the coolness of the touch making Riley hiss with pleasure.

"He is," Riley said softly, gazing into Angel's eyes. Games were never so never wild, never so intense for him as when they were true.

"He doesn't know that," Angel reiterated, then added, "There's only one way for him to find out."

"So kiss me."

This time his request was granted as, eyes dark and smoldering, Angel leaned forward and pressed his lips to Riley's cockhead, eliciting a low moan. When Angel neither moved away nor forward, Riley again asked for a kiss and was rewarded by Angel's lips rubbing across him as they parted for his tongue, icy velvet swirling across his hot, pulsating head. Another "kiss me," and he was in Angel's mouth, that tongue swiping his circumference; "kiss me," and the tip of Angel's tongue found the marks just below his cockhead, touching first one tiny scarred hole, then the other.

Riley's body responded at once, coiled nerves and muscles ready to spring as pleasure flooded him, Angel's mouth on him now so close to the original sensation; it was a velvet-gentle tongue laving instead of piercing teeth sinking in this time, but still ~Oh Angel god yes there!~ It was only Angel's hand wrapped tightly around the base of his cock that kept Riley from coming.

Lying nearly flat between Riley's legs now, Angel closed his eyes and gave himself over to his senses of taste and touch, to the hints of sweet saltiness and the hard, smooth flesh in his mouth. And just here, where his lover's skin was stretched a little harder, a little smoother; just here and next to it here - this was the core that the world, hiss world, their world spun around. His tongue flicked back and forth across the healed puncture marks again and again, as if he couldn't get enough of them, had to have more, had to have them, had to own them. ~Mine,~ he thought, growing harder himself with each claiming stroke of his tongue. ~Mine, mine, mine....~

"I want to come." Riley's voice, low, breathless, insistent. Angel moved to go all the way down - but before he could, Riley's fingers twisted in his hair, pulling him up. "With you," Riley moaned. "I want to come with you."

Angel raised himself up then, hand firmly wrapped around Riley's cock.

"I'm wide awake now," Riley said, smiling consciously as he arched involuntarily, on the edge. "And I want to come with you."

That Riley was still playing sent a jolt through Angel unaccountably, rippling up his spine and shivering him with delight. Wordlessly he got up to his knees and leaned forward to cover Riley was his body, kissing his mouth ardently as he reached for the ginger oil on the night-stand. He handed the small bottle to Riley as he sat back, and now it was his turn to vibrate with desire and anticipation as Riley's touch sensitized him further, warm fingers massaging the oil into his head and smoothing it along his shaft until he was well coated. When he was done, Riley rolled onto his side to return the bottle to the bedside table and then sat up. He came to Angel on his knees, and Angel leaned back against the headboard as he pulled Riley onto his lap. Riley cupped Angel's neck with one hand, the other holding onto his shoulder as he straddled his lover. Holding his own cock, Angel's other hand glided down Riley's back, dipped into his crack, and then his probing fingers were replaced by the tip of his cock. Riley's legs spread as he opened himself, pushing down and back to take Angel inside him smoothly and with a deep sigh of satisfaction.

Angel had his hands on Riley's hips, bucking up to meet each downward thrust as Riley rode him. He gazed into Riley's eyes, the violet inflections that came with passion darkening those hazel eyes and spurring Angel on. ~Deep blue looks good on you,~ Angel thought. ~I'd like to make you a blue-eyed boy for the rest of your life.~ He could feel Riley's erection hard against his stomach and knew that, with the friction of their undulating bodies pressed together, it was enough physical pressure for orgasm. But he took one hand from Riley's hip anyhow, slipping it between them to grasp his lover's cock and Riley helpfully shifted to accommodate him.

On the brink from Angel's earlier suckling, Riley felt a contraction ripple in his balls as Angel's hand wrapped around him and began fisting him in rhythm with Riley's thrusts. He rocked harder in Angel's lap, tightening on each upstroke, releasing on the downstrokes, milking the cool cock driving into him, drawing a sustained purring growl from Angel. Their eyes were locked when Angel's fingertips found the scars below his cockhead, rubbing them in a circular motion. Vocally mixing god with his lover's name over and over, Riley was there, cum gushing out of him, spilling over Angel's hand on his cock, blending with their sweat to glue them more slickly together and triggering Angel's own orgasm. Angel's growl intensified, vibrating within him and between them as he shot his cold semen deep inside Riley.

Riley leaned forward to kiss him open-mouthed and tenderly, staying in Angel's lap for long moments as they both came down. When Angel finally slipped out of him, Riley rolled off to stretch out languorously on his back and Angel slid down to lie beside him, smoothing the dark blonde hair back from his forehead. His other hand moved to down to Riley's right knee in gentle examination.

"How is it today?" he inquired.

Riley lifted to flex his knee a couple of times. "It's good today. Not even stiff." After surgery and with physical therapy, his recovery had gone exceptionally well; doctors given to hyperbole called it miraculous. All he was left with were the surgical scars and a slight limp, which might or might not be permanent. He lowered his leg and turned his attention to Angel. "So was there a reason you wanted me to get up?" Riley asked him. "Is something going on?"

"No," Angel murmured in his ear as he leaned in to kiss the soft skin below it. "Just wanted you."

"So we have nothing immediately requiring our attention?"

"No," Angel affirmed, nuzzling Riley contentedly.

"Then let's play another game," Riley said.

Angel's lips curved up into the barest hint of a smile against Riley's neck. ~The boy's insatiable.~ "Okay," he replied agreeably, straightening up.

Riley rolled onto his side and looked at his lover. "It's called 'The Right Moment.'"

"I don't think I know that one," Angel said, arching an eyebrow in anticipation. It sounded like an orgasm game.

"It's easy. I can teach you," Riley assured him. "The full name of the game is 'Let's Pretend This is the Right Moment.'" Angel's smile faltered, not quite following. "You know how people are always waiting for the right time to tell each other things? And they never get around to it, because the right moment never comes. But the person you're waiting to tell finds out anyhow and comes to you upset, saying, 'Why didn't you tell me?'" Angel felt himself growing still, more still than usual. Riley continued, "And all you can say then is, 'I was waiting for the right moment.' But it's too late. What they're really upset about isn't the thing you've been afraid to tell them, but that you were afraid to. Or," he amended, "not that you were afraid, maybe it's just that you didn't tell them. And it all would have been okay, if only the right moment had come up, you know?" Angel's smile had faded completely. Wordlessly, he nodded. Gazing deeply into Angel's eyes, Riley said softly, "Let's pretend this is the Right Moment."

They lay there facing each other, neither one speaking or moving. Finally Riley said, "I know you don't know how to play, so I'll go first and then you'll see how easy it is, okay?"

Angel nodded again, eyes still locked with Riley's, thankful that breathing wasn't a necessity for him.

Don't ask me
What you know is true
Don't have to tell you
I love your precious heart

"It's about Las Vegas," Riley said. "It's about... I want to talk about Faith." Angel carefully battened down the dread he felt and nodded for Riley to continue, though that was the last thing in the world he wanted right now. Looking at Angel's stone face, Riley almost changed his mind; maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all... but he took a deep breath and plunged on. "We haven't seen her in two months. We haven't talked about her at all. In fact, this is the first time any of us have said her name since we got back. We've been pretending... pretending that she wasn't a part of all this, that nothing happened." ~We've been pretending she doesn't exist,~ he thought, but the words were too harsh to speak. "But she was there. She was..." He hesitated, and the hesitation caused the dread to rise up sickeningly in Angel. "She was with me that whole time and I - we kissed." Coming out in a rush, these last words were not at all what Angel had been steeling himself for and he was too surprised to react or relax. "I kissed her," Riley said again.

Angel's face softened then, and he reached out for Riley once more to smooth the anxious lines wrinkling his brow. "It's alright," he said, then added a confession of his own: "I knew."

"You did?" Riley had thought only he and Faith knew about that, and he was certain she hadn't said anything.

"They showed me," Angel said calmly. He cringed inwardly at the euphemism "they," but Angel couldn't bring himself to use the name of the man who had caused them all such pain, and somehow referring to the man as "he" gave him power and a stature he didn't deserve; "they" reduced him to anonymity. "They sent me tapes.... You did the right thing, Riley. The right thing for her."

"Oh." Riley hesitated again, but he'd come this far already. "It wasn't just in there. I mean, I didn't kiss her outside, but... I wanted to. I, I wanted to be with her, that night, you know? And with you...," he trailed off.

Angel leaned down and kissed him softly, idly caressing Riley's stomach. "You love her."

Riley wasn't sure whether it was a question or an observation, and though he'd never thought the words before, he realized they didn't come as a surprise. "And I love you," he said simply, at once acknowledging Faith and encompassing Angel. ~Just goes to show, a secret is never really secret, even the ones you kept from yourself. Like Angel with Angelus.~

As if reading his mind, Angel said, "I guess it's my turn now. Mine is about Angelus."

Since they were being perfectly candid, Riley remarked, "Wes said you had something to tell me."

Wesley had tried to get Angel to talk about it, but Angel had steadfastly avoided the subject. He sat up now and leaned against the headboard again, holding his arms in his lap. Riley looked up but didn't move, himself. "He was there in Vegas. Not just at the fountain. He killed Jake, and Jake wasn't the only one. He had them trapped in a room, seventeen of them... and he killed them all."

~No,~ Riley thought. ~That was just Angel, protective.~ He couldn't say that, though. He reached over and took one of Angel's hands in his own, offering comfort and wordless acceptance.

"Don't you want to contradict me?" Angel asked with a small smile.

We could live
For a thousand years
But if I hurt you
I'd make wine from your tears

I told you
That we could fly
'Cause we all have wings
But some of us don't know why

Riley felt a stab of guilt. Angel had done what he had to, but now he was agonizing over it; Riley didn't want to contribute to that self-torment in any way. Instead, he said, "When I was in there, I began to doubt you." Angel's heart sank, but Riley went on, "Or, I began to doubt myself. I began to believe in Angelus... I began to think you were right all along."

"No," Angel said slowly. "I think, maybe you were right. Not, not about everything. Angelus *does* exist. But you were right about some things. Angelus." Angel stopped to compose himself. "He'd give it to you. He'd give you what you want, anything you want." He swallowed. "And so would I..." his voice trailed off.

Riley nodded and softly repeated the words he'd looked up and memorized: "Sion tha cinnseal."

Angel started slightly, and wondered if Riley knew what he was saying, what the words meant. "We haven't talked about it at all," he said, referring to the moment he'd spoken those words, the moment he'd marked Riley. "About what it meant for me to do that. About what it means."

"It means I'm yours," Riley said, and Angel felt a shot of warmth pierce his trepidation. Riley had a gift for taking the most complicated things and reducing them to their simplest forms without diminishing their meaning.

"It does," Angel confirmed. It would be so easy to leave it at that... but if he didn't try to explain to Riley now, the right moment might be lost forever - and who knew how this might come back to haunt them? So he went on, struggling to articulate himself, "But... when I did it... I didn't know who I was. I don't know who did it." He stopped, feeling that he was making no sense. Riley looked at him attentively but offered no comment. "I lost myself in Las Vegas, Riley. I lost myself when I thought I'd lost you. I was still lost when I found you... you say those words back to me, 'sion tha cinnseal,' but do you understand them?"

"Anything for you," Riley said seriously.

"Yes," Angel acknowledged the correct literal translation. "But do you *understand*-"

"You would do anything for me," Riley interrupted. He sat up, one hand on Angel's face as he spoke, capturing Angel's eyes with his own. "You would give me anything. Your body, your heart - your soul. And in the giving you would take everything of mine, and return it to me a thousand times over." He moved closer to Angel, dropping his hand and his gaze as he pressed his cheek to Angel's and whispered. "It means you love me, with all the risk that entails." And then he worked his gift on words: "It means you love me," he repeated simply.

A peace settled in Angel's heart and spread throughout him as he sat with Riley like that, eyes closed, taking pleasure in the warm breath at his ear, the warm skin against his face. His arms went about Riley, holding him, touching him, accepting him, wanting him. His mouth sought Riley's, and Riley returned the kiss with equal devotion. As the kiss went on, they slid down on the bed, their bodies entwining; and they made love again.

+++

Hours later, all games over, all confessions made and accepted with conditions or judgement, Riley sat up and stretched. "I'm glad we talked. About everything. About Faith. I was thinking... I want to find her."

Hearing the questioning tone, Angel asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"Maybe the Watchers know where she is."

"Maybe," Angel replied doubtfully. "But I don't know if they're likely to share such information with us."

"Hire someone to find her, then," Riley suggested. "Or look for her ourselves. We have to do something! I think about her all the time. It's not just, you know, the wanting her. She's my *friend*. She's out there all alone, and I can't stand that she might think she has to be." He paused, searching Angel's face as if for answers, though he knew that none could be given. "You saw it, right? You saw what they did to her. Someone did that to her." Riley looked like he might cry, but he pulled himself together. As he continued to gaze intently into Angel's eyes, he felt the stiffness return, something tightening inside Angel, beneath his stoic features.

And with a suddenness that made his head spin and forced him to catch his breath before it left him entirely, Riley knew something, something that there would never be a Right Moment for: "You were one of them," he said quietly. "Not with Faith - but you were like the man who did that to her, weren't you? Angelus is like that, and worse. That's what you've been trying to tell me."

Angel tried to speak, but the word came out broken and inaudible. He swallowed, moistening his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Yes," he said at last.

Riley nodded thoughtfully and looked away. Then he looked back. "I think I understand now." A look of concern crossed his face, and he reached out a hand to Angel's arm. "You're shaking," he observed quietly.

Angel hadn't realized it until Riley pointed it out, and now his trembling just seemed to grow; he couldn't stop. Riley moved close to him, enfolding Angel in his arms. "It's okay," Riley murmured against his ear, rocking Angel gently.

I was standing
You were there
Two worlds collided
And they could never tear us apart

*****