"They're gone," Fred whispered forlornly. Gunn, Xander, Angel and Lorne stood around her, staring at nothing. It had all happened so fast, really, and none of them could quite believe it.

It had all started when Wesley had translated the prophecy. 'The father shall kill the son' kept appearing, no matter what he did. He kept at it, though, suspicious for some reason. "It's just too perfect," He'd said, noting that rarely did such translations end up so very clear. "Look at Shansu."

Even amidst the growing tide of evidence pointing toward Angel as the murderer of Connor, no one had given up hope. Things like Wolfram & Hart's contamination of Angel and Wil's blood with Connor's had just shored up their confidence in the falsehood of the prophecy. Unfortunately, forces well beyond their control were at play.

The investigators split their time between trying to decipher the prophecy and keeping Holtz and his thugs from hurting Angel. Both tasks took up all their energy; Wesley co-opted Wil, Fred and Oz to help him with the book work, while the rest of the gang attempted to slow Holtz's efforts. It never occurred to them that the two were related.

They never knew the role of the demon Sahjahn until it was too late. The insanely vengeful man managed to get Connor one night, eluding even Angel's watchful gaze. Once they realized the infant was gone, the whole team mobilized.

It was pure, blind luck that the group containing Wesley, Wil, Oz and Cordelia reached Sahjahn and Holtz first. They were just in time to see what the demon intended. As one, they rushed the enemy. Instead of preventing what was going to happen, they disappeared along with Holtzand Connor. The other investigators arrived right as they vanished.

"We'll get them back," Angel said shakily. "We have to, you know?" Fred nodded sadly.

"Yeah," she replied.

Xander and Gunn looked at each other. How was that going to happen? Before they could ask Angel, he ran off. "Where'd he go?" Xander asked.

Lorne shrugged. "Who knows?"

���...�...�...�...���

A week later, they were wishing they'd bothered to find out. Huge red pentagrams, rifts in the fabric of reality, and weird slugs that just wouldn't go away kept the remaining investigators quite busy. Gunn and Lorne commiserated about Angel's behavior, comparing it to the last time he'd gone 'bad.' They both agreed that this was much worse.

It didn't seem to matter that his vampiric champion was gone; Xander still had mind-splitting visions on a regular basis. Angel helped out only occasionally; the rest of the time the others made up for his noninvolvement. After the ramifications of Angel's meddling in dark magic became apparent, that job became even harder. It was difficult to fend off evil when your best fighter was AWOL.

"We've got to do something about Xander," Lorne said to Gunn. The migraine-like visions were so bad the boy's eyes were bleeding and he was bedridden most of the time. Like the others, Xander's mental condition wasn't very good. The chances of getting their friends back was slim to none, which meant everyone but Lorne was in mourning for a lost mate. He'd just begun to like having Oz around, and now the werewolf was gone forever. Gunn knew how he felt.

"What, though? I mean, just how many options are there? The Powers That Be were pretty clear that he's a vision-boy," Gunn replied.

Fred walked in just in time to catch the drift of the conversation. "Maybe we can ask them to make him something else?"

"What would that do?" Gunn asked.

Fred thought for a moment. "Well, Angel said once that his first seer was part demon, and that kept the visions from really hurting him. And now that Cordelia's a.well." Fred's voice faded off when she mentioned the absent seer.

"You think they'd go for it?" Gunn asked of Lorne.

The green demon shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, sweetcheeks. It's worth a shot, though. I mean, it's not like Angel's being any help right now."

Lorne led the group, carrying Xander, to the Oracles. They were not pleased to see the investigators.

"Why are you here?" One of them asked angrily.

Lorne just cocked an eyebrow. "We need your help."

"Begone," The other said dismissively.

"If you want to keep using this boy, you're going to have to help him," Lorne said, ignoring the order to leave.

"'Cause those visions are killing him," Gunn added starkly.

"And that's a bad thing," Fred chimed in. Xander looked at her incredulously. Bad thing, indeed.

"And you want us to do what?" The first Oracle asked.

"Well, when Cordelia turned into a werewolf, the headaches went away. Isn't there something you could turn him into to make them leave?" Fred asked nervously.

The Oracles studied Xander, as well as the others. "We can make you something else," They finally told Xander.

"Like what?" He asked suspiciously.

The Oracles didn't bother to answer him. They just waited silently.

"Well, what do you think?" Xander asked Lorne.

"It's up to you, honey. There are worse things than being something else, whatever that means," Lorne replied.

Xander made up his mind. "Ok, fine. Do your best."

A soft, green glow surrounded Xander. A moment later, it was gone. "How do you feel now?" Fred asked worriedly.

"Dizzy," Xander answered. "But better, I think."

"Go away now," The Oracles ordered. The investigators found themselves unceremoniously tossed out of the temple.

"Well, that was rude," Lorne said, shaking his head. "We better get back to the Hotel."

"So, what did they make you?" Gunn asked Xander.

The boy shook his head. "I dunno, but as long as it takes the pain away and doesn't make me drink blood, I'm cool with it."

"Of course, considering the number of demonic species that feed off humans.there's a good chance that you" Fred was cut off by Xander.

"Nope, not going there. I'm going to be a nice, cuddly demon," Xander insisted.

"Right," Gunn muttered.

���...�...�...�...���

When they got back to the hotel, they found the place in a shambles. More of whatever had come through the on-again, off-again rip in their lobby was busy trashing the place. Angel was nowhere to be found, so they jumped in the fray. Fortunately, the evil beasties weren't so tough this time and they managed to get rid of them with a minimum of gore and bloodshed.

"You know, I'm getting a bit tired of this," Xander huffed as he collapsed on the stairs.

"I'm with you, man. Where the hell is Angel, anyway?" Gunn responded angrily.

"Here," Angel said from the doorway.

"Angel! Where have you been?" Fred cried from her spot on the floor.

The vampire sighed tiredly. "Trying to find a way to get them back."

Lorn shook his head. "And no luck, I presume?"

"None," Angel replied. "I'm not getting anywhere."

"Well, why don't you get nowhere here? We could use the help, you know," Gunn said shortly. "Cause this is looking a lot like the last time all wasn't bright and shiny in Angel-land."

Angel winced. "Ok, ouch, I deserved that."

"'Cause we're all suffering too, you know," Gunn added. "Connor's not the only one gone. Wil, Cordy, Wes, and Oz are all over there. And we all miss all of them." Fred and Xander nodded their agreement.

Angel slumped down next to Xander. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just.I had them so close, it's like somebody let me into heaven and then."

"You were shown a ham and given a weenie," Xander summarized.

Angel grimaced. "Crude, but effective." Angel sniffed the air a couple of times. "Something smells." He turned to Xander. "Why do you smell like a demon, Xander?"

Xander grinned nervously. "Maybe because I am one?"

"What?" Angel screeched, jumping up.

"See what you miss when you go all 'I want to be alone?'" Lorne said. "We took him to the Oracles because the visions, visions you weren't helping with, were killing him."

Angel's sudden anger deflated. "Oh. Well. Um.what are you, anyway?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Xander said. "It was a 'don't ask, don't tell' thing."

"I see," Angel said, clearly not seeing. "I hope it works out for you."

"What do we do now?" Fred asked nervously.

"Good question," Gunn replied. "I got no idea, though."

"We move on, that's what," Xander said firmly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Gunn said harshly.

Xander got up. "It means we start going again. Fighting the bad guys, saving the good guys-what we do for a living, you know? Yeah, they're gone, and yeah, I'm really sad about it. Don't get me wrong, I can't sleep most nights 'cause Oz isn't here. But we have to do something," Xander said, pacing. "And not just sit around here trying to open a portal that doesn't exist. We've been doing patchwork jobs here, just taking care of the visions while Angel piddles in bad mojo. There's got to be something we can do."

"He's right, you know," Fred finally said.

"Doesn't make it any easier," Gunn replied. "But I know he's right."

"We'll think of something, don't you worry," Lorne said confidently.

���...�...�...�...���

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Angel moaned as he surveyed the disaster below him. He peered down over the second-floor railing, watching as construction crews demolished parts of his lobby. At the same time, the gang was hauling the last of their belongings up to the sixth floor, where everything was being stored temporarily.

The investigators, and Lorne, had spent a couple of weeks trying to find their feet after Xander's transformation. Each did it in their own way: Angel brooded, Fred did formulas on any bare wall she could find, Gunn killed things and Xander ate junk food. At least whatever he'd become had a good metabolism.

Lorne proved to be the most disruptive. He no longer had Caritas or Connor to occupy him, so he became a hovering nuisance. Finally, Angel had exploded, telling the green demon to go open a club somewhere and leave them alone, or Angel was going to rip his head off.

"And just where should I open this club?" Lorne shot back.

"Timbuktu. Dubai. Harlem. Hells, the living room, for all I care. Just stop pestering me!" Angel had shouted.

Apparently, Lorne had taken Angel at his word, immediately calling in construction crews to turn part of the first floor of the Hyperion into a club. Angel had woken up one evening to find the place half-destroyed.

Lorne was standing in the middle of the carnage, gleefully directing workers. "Lorne, you have two seconds before I kill you."

Lorne smiled sweetly. "You did say I could open a club in your living room."

Angel closed his eyes and reached for inner strength. "I was exaggerating."

"Oh. You should have said something. It's a bit late now, don't you think?" Lorne replied.

"Angel, where are we gonna work?" Gunn said from the doorway. "I mean, this is going to be a night club."

Angel looked around what was once a nice lobby. Well, at least Lorne appeared to be staying within the style of the hotel. "Lorne, have the second, third, fourth and fifth floors redone, completely. Make the second floor office and library space. Pay for it yourself, and you can have the club."

Lorne looked ready to argue about the added expense, but one look from a gamefaced Angel stopped him cold. "Fine," He huffed, going off to find the foreman.

So now most of the hotel was being ripped apart. Angel had convinced his fury acquaintances to cast some interesting wards on the hotel, so that enemies like those from Wolfram & Hart couldn't get in. He was still obsessive and paranoid, however, so most of his gang spent their time making sure the place wasn't being booby-trapped. Lorne had hired the best, though, so there wasn't likely to be a repeat of his conniving electrician.

The lounge singer also made good on the refurbishment of the upper floors of the hotel, which were well on their way to being functional office and living space. Angel had taken over their design, making sure that the traditional hotel rooms were replaced with apartments. Wolfram & Hart had made ugly noises about the goings-on in the hotel, but a few well-placed deaths among their nonhuman ranks silenced them. Also, Angel's particularly brutal behavior had convinced them to keep their distance for a while. Angel knew that they'd be back sooner or later, probably sooner, but he didn't want to deal with them right now.

He didn't really want to deal with anything. The pain of waking up alone, of not hearing the gurgles and cries of his son or the snuffling sounds of Wil waking up each evening, was overwhelming. Gaining his soul more than a century ago didn't compare to how he felt each day, each time he thought of them. He also thought about the others-Cordelia and Wesley were like family to him. Oz, too, was sorely missed. Xander was trying desperately to stay grounded without the quiet werewolf, but it only worked so well.

Gunn joined Angel on the railing. "It's looking good, Angel," He said, gesturing up the stairs toward the quarters that were being redone. Angel said nothing.

"Lorne said it would all be ready next week, so we'll be needing that furniture you promised," Gunn added. Still, Angel remained quiet.

"And we're gonna move in Wes and Cordelia's stuff," Gunn finished. That got Angel's attention.

"What?"

Gunn sighed. "We can't just keep paying their rent, Angel. Dennis will understand about Delia, and Wes, well."

Angel knew he was right. After all, they really couldn't afford to pay rent on two empty apartments. "You using your truck?"

"Yeah," Gunn replied.

"I'll help."

���...�...�...�...���

"Ok, this time, no fighting, no guns, and no flaming barrels of gasoline. Nothing evil, foul or nasty. This place is not going to be destroyed by gangs-human or demon, by lawyers, or by Angel's old enemies," Lorne swore, looking with love over his new club.

"Let's hope so," Fred said quietly. "Because I live over this one."

It had taken two months of round the clock work, but the entire hotel was finished. Lorne even chipped in to fix the remaining holes in the upper floors of the hotel, which got the building pretty much up to code. He called it an investment-that way, he said, Wolfram & Hart couldn't pull any more code violations on Angel and his group, and Lorne wouldn't get evicted.

The investigators had moved into their new offices a couple of weeks before. They were luxurious by comparison to their old quarters; there was a desk for each of them, plus several spares, lots of storage, an advanced filing system and a new computer. Fred remarked sadly that Wesley would have loved the new library.

Each of the investigators had laid claim to one of the new apartments. Gunn had pretty much moved into the hotel, although he kept his own place in his old neighborhood. Fred, who had never completely moved out, although she'd taken to spending a lot of time in Wesley's apartment, became a permanent resident once again. Angel and Xander just moved up a floor.

Gunn, Fred and Xander had agreed to join Lorne at the entrance to Caritas III. Angel had declined to join them for the grand opening. "It's wonderful," Xander reassured Lorne. "Very classy."

"You think so?" Lorne asked nervously. "It's not the same location, and location's everything."

Fred smiled. "I'm sure everybody will love it, Lorne. Just you watch. The place will be packed! People will be crawling out of the woodwork just to see it."

"I don't know." Lorne began. He was stopped by a flash of light coming from the lobby.

"What was that?" He asked as they rushed into the main entranceway.

A swirl of dust obscured their vision. Above the mess, they saw Angel standing at the top of the stairs. He looked as confused as they did. "I heard something," He said, looking down at the cloud.

"Um, is this a bad thing?" Xander said.

"I guess we'll have to wait until the literal smoke clears," Fred replied.

"Fred?"

Fred peered into the cloud. "Did you hear that?" She asked Xander.

Xander nodded. "Yeah, I did." He walked closer to the mess, which was beginning to settle. He got just to its edge when a hand shot out and grabbed his leg. Xander pulled back, trying to get away. Instead of losing his attacker, he dragged the arm, and the rest of the body attached to it, out of the fog.

"Wesley?"

*****
Part 22:

"Oh, my god," Gunn whispered. The figure on the floor was, indeed, Wesley-albeit a dirty, banged-up Wesley.sporting a small pair of horns.

Wesley looked up at Xander. "Hi."

"Wesley!" Fred screamed, darting toward him. She enveloped him in a fierce hug, cutting off whatever he might have been saying.

Stumbling noises from inside the cloud caught the others' attention. Gunn stepped forward and into the dust, reaching out for whoever might be there. Angel tried to warn him off, but it was no use. A moment later, Oz came sailing out of the fog, propelled by Gunn.

Lorne caught the werewolf before he hit the ground. As Oz was disentangling himself, Gunn came barreling out of the cloud, carrying Cordelia. Angel bounded down the stairs, a frantic look on his face.

Where was Wil? Connor? The other missing people had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Angel rushed into the dusty fog, searching wildly. He flailed about until he struck flesh. A hand latched onto him, and he began to pull. Soon he saw why they were struggling so-the cloud was surprisingly thick and resistant.

When Angel finally got out of the mess, he found that he had dragged Wil with him.

"Wil?" Angel whispered disbelievingly.

Wil looked up at Angel, an equal measure of incredulity in his eyes. "Angel?"

Angel hugged Wil to him painfully tight. "Connor?" He whispered hopefully.

Wil looked pained as he pulled back from Angel. Glancing back at Wesley and Cordelia, he shifted from foot to foot. As he was trying to find words, the cloud slowly disappeared, sucked back into itself.

"Angel." Wil began softly, not knowing how to tell him that Connor hadn't survived.

Angel saw in Wil's face what he didn't want to hear. Keening softly, he sank down onto the floor, holding his head in his hands. A low howl rose from his throat, causing everyone present to shiver.

Xander pulled back from Oz to approach Angel. The vampire didn't acknowledge his presence at all. "What happened?" He asked Wil.

The blonde glanced at the others. "The portal was.vicious. It hurt all of us, but Connor the worst. Holtz wouldn't."

Angel growled at the mention of his old enemy. "What did he do?" Fred asked quietly.

Cordelia picked up the story. "He didn't protect Connor, and a demon. they were everywhere, and we couldn't get to them in time."

"Did he suffer?" Gunn asked.

"Connor? No. Holtz? Yes," Cordelia answered.

"Is he dead?" Lorne inquired.

"Very much so," Oz replied softly.

Wil crouched down next to Angel. "Angel? Luv, please, get up."

Angel looked up at Wil, a lost expression on his face. When Wil reached out for him, Angel shrank away, disgust marring his classical features. Wil recoiled at the hatred he saw there.

"What?" Fred asked, watching Angel react to Wil. Wil shook his head shakily, backing away from Angel.

"Angel, it's not his fault," Gunn said to the vampire.

Angel glanced around the room. "Why didn't you save him? WHY? He was just a baby. You killed him!"

Wil flinched and backed up further, until he ran into Oz. The werewolf braced the vampire so he wouldn't fall. Xander stepped up to help, putting an arm around him for support. "We tried so hard, there wasn't any way."

Angel glared at Wil. "Did you?" He got up, still staring daggers at his childe. After a moment, he turned and stalked up the stairs. A minute later, they heard a door slam.

���...�...�...�...���

A few minutes of uneasy staring later, Lorne retreated to Caritas. The club was still supposed to open that night, and there was no way to reschedule it. He understood, though, when everyone begged off attending opening ceremonies. They'd show up in a few days, when some of the shock and pain faded.

Fred led the gang upstairs, to Angel Investigations new offices. They all had questions and she wanted to get everyone situated before they started flying.

Once the still stunned and silent group had made their way upstairs, she began. "What happened?"

The newly returned quartet looked at each other. "Everything?" Wil said.

Gunn nodded, followed by Fred and Xander. Cordelia sighed and pulled out a chair. "The portal.it was like a thunderstorm. All lightening and wind, pulling us everywhere. When it opened over there, we fell out of the sky."

Wesley picked up the story then. "Holtz and Connor were already there, surrounded by demons. They were everywhere. The first thing we saw was Holtz throwing Connor to one of them."

Everyone fell silent, mentally cringing from the idea of doing that to an innocent child. Finally, though, Gunn spoke up. "So, how did you all get back here?"

"A portal of some sort opened up right where we were and sucked us through. Then we were here," Cordelia said.

"After all this time." Xander began.

"Huh? It was only a few days," Cordelia replied, confused.

"A few days?" Gunn growled. "You've been gone for months!"

"What?" The newly returned investigators yelped.

Wesley frowned. "It is well established that time moves differently between dimensions, but."

"And what's with the horns, Wes?" Gunn asked the Watcher.

"What?" Wesley said. "Oh, those. I was bitten by some sort of demon. Haven't really had a chance to figure out which one. Too busy trying to stay alive, you know."

Fred peered more closely at them. "They're kinda cute, like Lorne's but higher up."

Wesley grinned weakly. "I'm sure he'll appreciate that, Fred."

Xander finally realized just how dirty, tired and hungry they all looked. They'd probably been stuck over there for days, without anything to eat, drink or use as shelter from a world of demons. They hadn't even made it back unscathed-gods only knew what Wesley was now. "Why don't we find something for you to eat, and then you can get some rest?"

Cordelia grinned. "Read my mind, Xander. Please, oh, please, can I get a shower?" She scrunched her face. "It's been five months? What about my apartment?"

"It's here," Gunn said. "We moved your stuff over to a place in the hotel."

Cordelia relaxed. "Great! Too bad I couldn't say goodbye to Dennis."

"Why? He's here," Fred replied. "We found a way to move him. He didn't like that place anyway. He says that the Hyperion has more ambience."

"He would," Cordelia said lightly. "But I'm hungry!"

���...�...�...�...���

Wil watched as Fred led a tired but somewhat more stable Wesley up to his temporary quarters. Despite the calm fa�ade he'd presented, Wes was scared shitless about what he was becoming. Wil could see him craning his head toward the library, desperately wanting to go research his symptoms. No amount of Fred reassuring him could keep the Watcher from wanting to know.

Cordelia was enjoying being pampered by Gunn. The months between her disappearance and return had taught the vampire hunter a lot. He no longer cared about her being a werewolf. Instead, he was simply happy she was alive at all. She had certainly noticed the change, but was mature enough not to mention it. After all, why question why the guy was waiting on her hand and foot?

And of course Oz was the cool one, silently reconnecting with Xander. The two boys were still only sort-of together; Xander was still getting over a lifetime of conditioning, and Oz had the perfect patience of mountains in that area. The alpha werewolf showed the fewest outward signs of being trapped in the demon dimension, so Wil didn't worry about him.

That left Wil himself. No one was around to comfort him, but he didn't really expect it. If he decided that he needed a shoulder to cry on, he knew that Lorne would be around after the club closed. After all, everyone else was busy, and Angel, the one most people would have assumed to be the comforter, was unreachable. The last time Wil had approached Angel's apartment, a low warning growl had told him that under no uncertain terms he was unwelcome.

So Wil wandered around the newly renovated hotel, avoiding the quarters that Xander had told him he could use. His belongings were there, since Angel had been unable to stand living with them when he thought the blonde dead. Wil was grateful that he'd felt that way; now at least he had access to his stuff while Angel broke down in the rooms Wil had thought he'd be sharing with him.

Eventually, though, touring the hotel's improvements grew tiring and Wil went to his room. He viewed it with detached interest; it was nicely appointed, with sparks of Lorne's quirky tastes showing through here and there. Wil particularly liked the Hokusai silk-screened print over the bed. 'The Great Wave off Kanagawa,' while perhaps overused as an example of the artist's work, was one of Wil's favorites.

Noting absently how filthy he was, Wil drew a bath in the pool-like bathtub he found in the bathroom. The renovations must have cost Lorne a small fortune. He didn't think it put a serious dent in the demon's pockets, though. The green guy had more money than Wolfram & Hart.

Another of Lorne's touches was the collection of bath salts and toiletries Wil found on the counter. Although they were most assuredly put there for decorative purposes, they were also quite useable-a good thing when one was as nasty as he was right now. The hot water elicited a low groan as Wil sank down into a sea of milky lather.

Despite the quality of the soap, it took a long time and a lot of scrubbing before Wil was clean. Had what was on his skin been mere dirt, it wouldn't have been so bad. But in the two or three days they'd been gone, he and the others had battled an incredible number of demons, of every kind imaginable. As a result, each and every one of them was covered with spots of sticky, smelly and occasionally corrosive gore. Even after his skin looked clean, Wil continued to wash it, trying to get the smell off him.

And none of the cleaning, none of the perfumed soaps or scented oils, could wash Connor's blood off his hands. While Wil knew that there was nothing he could have done-after all, they had hit the ground just as Holtz sacrificed Connor in a fruitless attempt to save his own life-he still felt responsible for the infant's death. If only he'd known what has happening before Holtz had jumped through the portal, if only they'd been faster.

If only the person coming through the portal had been Connor instead of him. The look on Angel's face when he saw that it was Wil, and not his son, that had returned to him, had crushed the blonde's heart into a million pieces. He knew then that Angel was lost to him.

Tears rained unnoticed on Wil's face as he replayed that moment over and over in his mind. Angel, ecstatic to see Wil. Him realizing that no child came with them. Then Wil saw the instant in which Angel decided that Wil had chosen to let his son die. It was worse than watching Buffy die, worse than having her reject him. That was nothing compared to the moment in which Angel thought, even for a second, that Wil could do something so heartless, so cruel.

How could Angel even consider it? What had Wil done since he'd gotten his soul that made Angel think that he could do something so terrible? No matter what Wil tried, he couldn't think of anything. Perhaps he was simply too weak. Maybe Angel saw something that he didn't-that there was a way he could have saved Connor, but just didn't do. It could be that, unconsciously, Wil wanted Connor to die.

Even the thought of that nearly drove Wil insane. No! There was no way he would wish ill on Connor. The baby was like his own child, the light of his existence. He'd lived for that infant; watching him and Angel interact had brought tears of joy to his eyes. How could he have let this happen?

The bathwater was cold by the time Wil pulled himself out of his self-destructive stupor. Exhausted, he threw himself into bed. The covers were thick and warm, topped with two of his favorite goose-down comforters, but Wil couldn't get comfortable. He buried himself completely, blocking out the world. Maybe then he could get a moment's peace from the guild and anguish that tormented him.

���...�...�...�...���

Wil wandered downstairs the next evening, finding Fred and Cordelia in the new offices. Fred was showing Cordelia all of the new equipment, as well as the filing system that they had started using. Cordy seemed to be in good spirits, following along pretty well with everything Fred was saying. Still, when Wil walked by Cordy shot him a look. Underneath all the smile and blusher, Wil could see that she hadn't slept well. It would be a long time before any of them slept through a night or day; memories of their nightmare would plague them for years.

"Where's Wes?" Wil asked Fred.

"In the library, diagnosing himself," Fred said worriedly. She was concerned for her boyfriend. He'd not slept well, tossing and turning. He wouldn't let her touch the little horns that had sprung up on his skull, jerking back each time she tried. Eventually he'd calm down, she figured. Until then, though, she'd have to let him bury himself in books.

Wil let himself into the library, leaving Fred to explain to Cordelia the wonders of hanging files. In the library, Wil found Wesley nearly buried in a mound of books. "Found anything yet?"

Wesley jumped nervously at the intrusion. "No, nothing at all. I can't find that demon anywhere, and so many demons have horns."

"How's Fred?" Wil asked.

"What? Oh, she's fine," Wesley replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that she hasn't seen you for five months and you're buried in the library while she initiates Cordelia into some sort of filing system," Wil said lightly.

Wesley glanced toward the door. "You're right, I should ask her to help me," He said. Wil just laughed as Wesley tore out of the library to ask Fred for help. Now that the place was empty, Wil straightened Wesley's piles of books and pulled up a chair, resting himself for a moment.

He remembered the last time he'd sat in the old library, watching Angel from across the table and playing footsie with him. Then there was the time they'd shocked the hell out of Xander, or when Cordelia had just waltzed in, picked up the book she needed, and left again, never commenting on her boss's unclothed state. The only sign they ever saw that she'd seen them was a comment made several weeks later about how nicely matched they were in their.endowments. Wil still blushed at the memory.

Disturbed by his own mind, Wil got up and left the library, hoping to find some place in this completely redone hotel where ghosts didn't haunt him. The kitchen was virtually identical to the original, so that was out. All of the rooms were new, but most had either beds, tubs, or both. That defeated the purpose of hiding, when all he could think about was Angel.

Eventually he found himself in front of Lorne's club. The place was closed for business, but he knew the demon was in there, probably preparing for the coming night. This place, of all the ones he'd tried, should be safe.

"Wil!" Lorne said brightly. "How are you?"

Wil smiled weakly. "Been better, but you'd know all about that. Trips to other dimensions aren't always a bowl of cherries."

Lorne shivered at the memory of Pylea. "I hear you, believe me, I do. How's Angel?"

It was Wil's turn to shiver. "I wouldn't know. He won't let me near him, much less talk to him."

"He blames you?" Lorne asked, already knowing the answer. "You blame yourself?"

Wil just stared at the floor. He liked Lorne, even if he was too damned perceptive for his own good. "I dunno, it's hard to."

"Yeah, I'm sure it is. Look, I'm getting ready to open here. You should have seen last night. This new location is going to do surprisingly well. I wasn't sure about it at first, but the turnout was outstanding. If you could give me a hand, though, I'd be so grateful," Lorne rambled, watching Wil shrink inside himself.

"What kind of help?" Wil asked.

Lorne grinned. "Oh, just testing out the audio system. I thought I heard a few glitches last night, so I want to run through them again."

"You want me to sing," Wil said, seeing through the bullshit.

"That too," Lorne replied, smiling. "Why? Are you afraid to?"

"That won't work on me, and you know it. Yeah, though, I'll sing," Wil said softly. He ambled up to the stage, taking his time. He didn't mind doing this, especially since there was no audience. If Lorne wanted to listen to him caterwauling, so be it.

The first thing Wil noticed about the new setup was that Lorne had gotten the absolute best on the market. He was truly impressed with the selection. Maybe he'd be able to find something a bit more his style than Celine Dion.

Strains of piano music filled the lounge. Lorne sat back against the bar, listening as Wil's smooth baritone filled the room.

"Well my time went so quickly,
I went lickety splickly
down to my ol' 55.
As I pulled away slowly,
feeling so holy,
god knows I was feeling alive.

Now the sun's coming up,
I'm riding with lady luck.
freeway cars and trucks;
stars beginning to fade,
and I lead the parade.
Just a wishing I'd stayed a little longer;
oh lord, lemme tell you that the feeling's getting stronger.

And at six in the morning
gave me no warning,
I had to be on my way.
Well, there's trucks all a passing me,
and the lights all a flashing,
I'm on my way home from your place.

Now the sun's coming up,
I'm riding with lady luck.
freeway cars and trucks;
stars beginning to fade,
and I lead the parade.
Just a wishing I'd stayed a little longer;
oh lord, lemme tell you that the feeling's getting stronger."2

Wil finished up and joined Lorne at the bar, pouring himself a drink. The bourbon stung as it hit the back of his throat. "Well?"

Lorne stared for a moment before shaking himself back to consciousness. "You don't just cause pain, Wil. Ask anybody in this hotel.Well, other than Angel. Cordelia, Fred, Wesley-you've done a lot of good here. And this wasn't your fault."

Wil smiled ruefully. "Ah, pep talk a la Krevlorneswath. Nothing finer in all of Pylea or L.A.."

"Smart ass," Lorne said fondly. "But you know I'm right." And, he didn't add, you know as well as I do that eventually Angel will recover from this, and it would do both of you good for you to be there when he does. He'd have said it, but it was too soon. Wil wouldn't handle that very well.

"Of course."

"Get out of here. I've got a club to run," Lorne said, shooing Wil out of the place.

2 Ol' 55, Tom Waits

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