A/N: I'm so sorry about the time it took me to get the first chapter out on this sequel. If you have not read the prequel to this story Time to Face Reality, you may be a little lost at times. So, I hope that I have not lost all of my faithful reviewers from the first story and they are ready to go along on the ride for this one. So fasten you seatbelt, here goes...

...after the disclaimer: I do not own any of the shows or their characters.

"Sam, where the hell are we?"

Sam had to admit that his brother's question was understandable. They had now been walking in what seemed to be no-man's-land for about half an hour and had seen no sign of the demon they were hunting. Sam could feel his brother starting to get anxious, though Dean would never admit it. Sam stopped for a moment and sighed, pondering on Dean's question. He had a vague idea of which direction they had come from, but the thought that worried him the most was the sense of being watched.

"I think it's watching us, Dean." Sam whispered to his brother.

"Come out! We know you're here!" Dean bellowed.

"Dean, shut up!" Sam hissed, but it was too late. Out from the long grass jumped the demon they had been searching for. It jumped straight at Dean, though he was prepared and kicked it hard in its lower abdomen.

The demon was a strange looking thing and one Sam had never seen before. The hunt had not been planned but the demon had come out of nowhere through the window and into their motel room, where both brothers were sitting peacefully. It had not taken them long to fight it off though it had disappeared through the window before either of them had had the chance to finish it off. Sam had not been able to get a good look at it, but after the few glimpses he had seen he would have described it has more reptilian than human as it skin seemed to be covered in scales.

The demon charged at Dean again with an ear-piercing cry, though Dean was prepared for it and swung at it again. Sam quickly joined it, but no sooner had he joined in than he noticed Dean started swaying on his feet. He shouted his brother's name but kept fighting the demon which seemed to be enjoying the fight rather than finding it fearful. Suddenly Sam felt his head start to feel dizzy, but he quickly grabbed hold of his knife and swung at the demon, which hissed at him loudly exposing fangs, not unlike those of a snake. Sam stared at the demon perplexed for a moment as it hissed, though he was well prepared when it charged at him. He swung at it again and this time caught it on one of its scaly arms. The creature stopped and turned it dark eyes on, looking straight at him as though thinking of how best to tackle him. Sam glanced at Dean and saw that his brother had caught his balance and had drawn his gun.

"Sam get down!" Dean yelled at him and Sam ducked just as the demon jumped at him.

Then Sam heard the most awful sound he had ever heard in his life: his brother was screaming. Dean never showed his pain or at least tried to hide it the best he could. Sam drew his gun at pointed it at the demon that was pinning Dean to the ground with the use of its three-fingered clawed hands, and fired. The creature cried out loudly as the bullet entered its side and it reluctantly thrust itself off Dean who lay motionless on the ground. Sam flung himself towards Dean, but when he looked for the demon it had disappeared.

"Dean?" Sam said hoping to get some response from the still form of his brother. Dean did not respond and Sam immediately felt for the pulse. At first he feared the worst until he felt a faint pumping against his fingers. It was hard to see by the dull light of the moon the extent of damage Dean had suffered, but Sam knew that he had to get Dean help and it had to be fast.

Sam tried to lift his brother off the ground and, breathing heavily, he managed to haul Dean with back towards the motel. With every step he took Sam grew more fearful as Dean still showed no sign of waking up. What had that thing done to him? From what Sam had seen it did not look as if the damage done to his brother had been that great, though he could not drown out his brother's screams.

By the time Sam reached the Impala he was positively scared beyond relief. He told himself that Dean would be fine; hell his brother had almost died twice but had pulled through in the end. And he's not dying, he's just unconscious, Sam reassured himself as he placed Dean in the back seat. That was when he noticed something strange about the three puncture wounds that Dean had received on either side of his shoulders. The blood that was soaking through Dean's shirt had a tint of a different colour in it. He leaned slightly closer and saw shades of a bright yellow, almost clear, mixing with Dean's blood. Sam quickly pulled away Dean's shirt to look at the wounds.

He gasped as he took in the damage. From each small puncture wound, all six of them, thick and thin lines of black were drawing out.

"No, no, no." Sam breathed desperately as he looked at the poison spreading in Dean's body. He had to get help to his brother and it had to be fast, he knew that much, but where? A hospital would ask too many questions as the poison Dean had received from the demon was most likely something humans did not come by every day. Sam whispered something to Dean that probably did not make a lot of sense as he fished out the map they had near the front seats. He folded it out and looked at it. They were close to Los Angeles, very close. Sam looked from the map to Dean and made up his mind.

Doyle looked at the vampire in front of him who wore a mask of great displeasure.

"Look, Angel, man," Doyle said in his wonderful Irish accent, "you have to lighten up. This look is great for you."

Angel looked down at himself taking in everything from the brightly coloured shirt to the white shoes that Doyle had insisted on him trying. He had to strongly disagree with Doyle. No way did this look beat his black.

"Doyle, I really don't think –" Angel began in a rather hopeless tone, though he was interrupted by Cordelia entering the room who quickly took in Angel's appearance.

"Oh my God." Cordelia said looking rather shocked.

"It was Doyle's idea." Angel said, though his voice tailed off towards the end.

"He actually wore it." Cordelia said as she turned to Doyle, her face breaking into a grand smile. "I can't believe you actually got him to wear that!"

By the end of it Angel was the only one who did not have a smile plastered on his face, but he was glad to say that he was probably the only one who looked positively murderous.

"Look, it's getting dark so I have to go." Angel said after he had changing into his preference clothing and made his way past Cordelia and Doyle towards the door leading outside.

"Hey, Angel!" Doyle called after him before he walked out. "Come here for a second."

"If this is another one of your splendid jokes Doyle I swear I'm going to kill you." Angel growled as he made his way over to the desk where Doyle was sitting and Cordelia was leaning over his shoulder.

"Wouldn't dream of it, man." Doyle reassured him with a quick smile.

"What is it?" Angel asked as he too came round to stand behind Doyle.

"It's just weird." Doyle said moving his hand senseless across the screen.

"What's weird?" Angel pressed on as he looked at the various colours on the computer screen that he had no idea what represented.

"You see all of this?" Doyle asked, pointing to a certain large area of colour clustered together. Angel nodded. "I made this thing to show where most attacks are and it's weird, man. Like, seriously full on freak-out-now, kind of weird."

"Doyle." Angel prompted.

"Right." Doyle breathed. "The average numbers of attacks are moving eastwards."

"Why is that so strange?" Angel asked, trying to make head or tail out of what he was seeing.

"Because it happened almost at once. It's as though something has scared all of the evil in L.A. away from a certain part of the city; the westward side." Doyle explained, and Angel noticed beads of sweat appearing on the man's forehead as he spoke. Angel understood his worry. They had dealt with many things while being in L.A. but it was never a good sign when all evil fled.

"Do you know when they all started fleeing?" Angel asked, looking directly at Doyle.

"It was around two days ago. I didn't say anything at first because I didn't know if it meant anything, but this…this is rapid. They are not wasting their time." Doyle explained, looking rather nervous. Angel knew that Doyle was tough enough when he wanted to be, though he knew the Irish half-demon would rather have peace and quiet than battle upon battle.

"What do you think, Angel?" Cordelia asked as she sat on the desk next to the computer. "Another apocalypse because I really don't like those."

"Let's just stay calm, okay?" Angel said as he straightened up. Doyle's information had worried him but there was no need to install more fear in his team than necessary. "Good work, Doyle, just continue to monitor that. I'll go out and see if I can find out about anything."

Doyle looked rather pleased with himself as Angel turned away from the desk.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Cordelia asked before Angel had taken two steps away from the desk.

"Help Doyle?" Angel suggested.

"Have you really not got anything more worthy of my talents?" Cordelia said as she threw her hair back.

Angel looked at her with uncertainty. He was never quite sure what to expect from Cordelia and what to say to her. At the moment he had no idea what it was that she really wanted him to say.

"You just do what you do best." Angel said, with the most encouraging tone he could muster.

"What's that then?" Cordelia asked, a big smile on her face.

However, before Angel had the chance to think of an answer the door opened and a young man the Angel Investigations team had not seen for a couple of months, stormed in, a limp form in his arms.

So there goes the first chapter. I know it's a bit short and I'll try to make the next chapters a bit longer.

Please review! I'll send lovely virtual cookies to anyone who drops in a review!