*****

Wesley rolled over and sighed. His jaw tensed, then relaxed, then tensed again as one more painful sigh escaped him.

"Please talk to me," Angel said softly, staring at Wesley's back. He could almost see the tension in the other man's shoulders, neck and generally throughout his whole body. Another sigh. "What part are you thinking about? Demons? Fathers? Soulless ch. . ."

"You loved him, didn't you?" came the soft British voice.

"Doyle," Angel whispered, his voice sounding sadder than it ever had. "I did," he answered after a moment.

"You called me his name, Angel."

The vampire rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, his hands running through his hair as he mumbled, "I didn't mean to."

"But you did."

"I loved Doyle," Angel stated firmly. "But I know the difference between you and him."

"He's dead and I'm here."

Sitting up quickly, Angel threw the covers off of him and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Don't do that, Wes," he said in a low, dangerous voice.

"Don't state the facts, Angel?"

Standing up, Angel pulled on a pair of black silk boxers. "Don't imply that I'm with you because he's dead. Don't imply that I operate like that and don't imply that I have no feelings for you and don't you fucking imply that I took you into my bed solely for the purpose of replacing him." He was shouting and pacing, his eyes darting around the room.

"I'm sorry," Wesley uttered weakly, unconsciously bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around them.

Angel turned, finally looking at Wesley and at the sight of him, all the irrational anger within him faded. Sorrow warmed his heart as he saw the shivering mass upon the bed. "Wesley?" he whispered. He drew closer, but stopped as he sensed something. "You're afraid of me." He watched as Wesley shook his head, but Angel could see the tears brimming his eyes. "You are."

"I'm not, Angel, I'm not."

The vampire sat down upon the bed, placing his hand on Wesley's blanket covered feet and sighed. "Tell me."

Letting his arms loosen a bit, Wesley tilted his head and looked down his body at Angel. "Tell you?"

"About your father."

Wesley sat up, pulled his legs toward him and hugged himself as he shook his head almost violently. "No."

"Locked you under the stairs?" Angel pressed, watching Wesley's head shake harder. "Told you were nothing?"

"Shut up," he shouted, his head moving to lie sideways on his knees. "Shut up," he repeated as Angel continued.

"He hit you too, didn't he? Said you weren't good enough? Not good enough to be feed or treated like a human? Did he hit you with more than his hand? In front of people? He called you names to humiliate you? And all the while you never stopped wanting to make him happy. Never once did you. . ."

Angel's words were stopped as Wesley launched himself at him. "Shut up, Angel, please," he begged, sobbing.

Angel caught Wesley easily, pulling him into a tight embrace, then moving his hand up to smooth down his hair. As he held the man tightly to his chest, Angel spoke softly. "It's okay, Wes. You are someone to be proud of. I would never hurt you like your father hurt you. You don't have to prove your worth to me and you're not replacing Doyle." Moving his mouth lower until it was just above Wesley's ear, Angel confessed, "Although I wanted us to be, he and I were never close like this. His heart was on Cordelia." Kissing the ear quickly, Angel said, "You're the first person since Buffy, that I. . ." he allowed his voice to trail off, knowing that Wesley could fill in the rest.

"I didn't mean to make you angry," Wesley whispered, his voice pleading.

"I know and I didn't mean to get angry. I just don't want you doubting what I feel for you."

Wesley nodded and Angel loosened his hold, allowing Wesley to shift in the embrace. He rested his head upon Angel's chest and his hands moved up to his shoulders. "I just. . .I sometimes feel..."

"Not enough," Angel finished for him. "I've noticed." He heard Wesley sniff and once more his arms tightened. "But you are," he whispered.

~end~