A/N: I know, it's a really short chapter. I decided to end it on a spot that was all creepy bad things with Angel sort of way.
Traitor or Friend?
Chapter 3: Early Signs of Badness to Come
Cordy immediately ran to the crib, picking up the frightened child as the building shook violently, rattling and dropping pots and pans out of the cupboards. Dishes crash as the first sign of the Hamburgers warning came true.
In another part of Los Angeles, Lilah smiled as her office shook; knocking down papers, files, and decorations. She didn't panic, unlike the screams she heard outside her spacious office. As her evil comrade in the plot against Angel predicted, the earthquake had struck exactly to the very hour, minute and second. Made her eager to find out the next stage in the demon's plan, and how she can benefit from it with the Partners.
For Holtz's crew, panic wasn't an option. Most had lived in L.A. all their lives, experiencing minor and not so minor quakes in the past. Several got underneath tables or huddled in the corners, laying down on the ground while covering their heads. In such an old, abandoned mansion, things weren't as steady they should be.
Justine ignored the common safety rules as her eyes connected with Holtz's.
Suddenly, a large bookshelf came crashing down. Holtz managed to run and tackle the shocked woman as it fell. Justine blinked once or twice, eyes vulnerable and showing the innocence that Holtz lost long ago. No words were spoken as her eyes revealed a small amount of her feelings for him. Feelings he could never return, nor wanted to.
The lit stove in Angel's suite toppled over as the earthquake continued on. A huge column of flames shot out with the mini explosion, throwing Angel across the room. A burning beam dropped from the ceiling between Wes and the dazed vampire.
'The first portent will shake the earth.'
Wesley staggered back, leaning against the wall by the bed, due to Loa's haunting words. His somewhat buzzed brain faintly heard Cordy's pleas for help, unable to cross due to the growing fire from the oven.
"Angel!"
Like a man lost in a dream, Wesley watched wordlessly as Angel leaped across the flames.
'The second will burn the air.'
Wesley clutched his ears, trying to drown the prophetic words out at any means necessary. To deny proof of the fire from the stove as it seemed to consume the very air around them.
Cordelia held the baby in his sky printed blanket tight to her chest as Angel picked her up and leaped like some young Gazelle over the flickering flames. He set her down and pushed her toward the door. He stopped long enough to grab a hold of his dazed friend and literally threw him out of the apartment. He gave a glance behind him as chunks of the ceiling fell where Wesley had just been standing a second ago, then joined his family out in the hall.
The earthquake settled down, with minor shocks following. Both adult humans coughed as Connor screamed and kicked furiously in his blanket. Angel immediately gathered Cordelia and Connor in his arms, speaking soothing words to both.
Connor's screams slowly turned to whimpers as both adults hovered over him. Wesley watched with a far away expression as Cordy gave Connor over to the eager father. The pattern on the blanket caught his eye, as well as the blood trailing down Angel's head and cheek. Each drop of the ruby red substance that dripped on the blue, fluffy cloud blanket sent daggers of fear that pierced through Wes's defense against the prophecy.
'The last will turn the sky to blood.'
"Earthquake. Fire. Blood," Wes whispered, horrified with the reality of what was coming to pass before his very eyes.
"We-We could have gotten stuck back there. Or worse, we could have... we could have died," Cordy gasped as she stroked Connor's cheek.
"But we didn't. We're all alive and have our limbs attached," Angel replied soothingly, keeping his eyes connected with his son's frightened ones.
"Oh my God, Angel. Your head."
Angel's eyes met hers, and then he smiled as she hesitantly touches the trail of blood. Looking at her fingers, his grin took on a hungry, humor like quality.
"At least I would have had something to snack on."
Wesley's trembling hand covered his mouth, mind zeroing in on the word snack.
''Do you wanna see Connor do somethin' cool?'' Angel's face morphs into the predator that's stalked Europe for over a hundred years. ''I'm teaching him how to die.''
A
Holtz rolled off Justine and helped her to her feet. Many of his crew still kept under the tables while others slowly stood up and asked about the health of their fellow brothers in arms.
"I think it's over," Justine muttered, still dazed and jittery over the close proximity with her mentor, along with the quake.
"What about aftershocks?" Someone asked fearfully.
But as seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into an hour, this proved to be no issue. Thankfully, as everyone reported back in through either phone or face to face, there seemed to be no casualties in their group. Minor scratches and bruises, but nothing life threatening or in need of medical attention.
As the bitter group began to clean up what they could, Justine followed Holtz out to the balcony.
Sensing her presence, Holtz merely nodded in her direction, keeping his focus on the busy streets below. Though Justine doubted he was really looking at the citizens of L.A... His mind and penetrating gaze on something else. She was right.
"I have a feeling Mr. Wyndham-Pryce will be visiting us soon. He'll be ready then to listen to reason, no doubt. I'm sure the earthquake has shattered all his precious arguments."
"And just like you said, we'll be there to give him the final push."
Holtz closed his eyes, a life time of pain finally coming to a head. He had to fight the urge to relax, keeping his hopes of victory at bay for the mean time. He couldn't afford any mistakes now.
"Yes... Did Samuel find what I have asked?"
Justine looked away, hiding her hesitancy. Her weakness to question when concerning a human life.
"I just received a call. He said that he's now following her and Angelus. They have the child with them in fact, if you-"
"No. It's too soon. We don't move on the child until we deal with Wyndham-Pryce first."
"Well... He said he'll call when he-"
The vibration in her pocket halted her flow of words.
"Well?" Justine asked. Holtz turned his head, watching the cruel, sly smile grace her pretty features. That smile reminded him of Darla somehow. Cunning, gloating... He averted his eyes back down, watching the scenes down below.
"Good job. You sure the vampire didn't see you?... Great. Report back to base."
"Judging from the gleam in your eye and the conversation, we now know where Angelus's woman lives."
"An apartment complex called 'Pearson Arms', near Silver Lake. Though we may have some problems."
"Of course we would. And they are?"
"Well, she lives on the second level, with quite a few neighbors. Though that wouldn't be too much of a problem, I guess. No roommate, at least. It appears that Angelus and the kid may be staying with them tonight. We're unsure if he'll be there for awhile or just for one of their... well, you know."
"I see no reason to change our plans for the present time being. The hotel is their place of work and Angelus's home. They'll be back."
"Well, I was thinking that if the opportunity arose, and the child and the woman are at the apartment alone in the future, maybe we could kill two birds with one stone."
Holtz didn't immediately reply, seemingly lost in thought. After a moment, he reluctantly nodded. "It is something to be considered... If this Wesley doesn't prove me right and go according to our plans, and circumstances give us the opportunity, we will take this as our queues to do what you Americans call 'Winging it'."
Justine leaned her back against the railing, folding her arms across her chest. "Seems like everything's going to be easy."
"Nothing is ever easy as it appears, Justine. Not in the lives such as ours. It's important to remember that fate has a tendency to change direction, much like the wind. You never know which way it may blow next, where it starts or even ends... You just have to adapt with each change, or die trying."
A
How could fate be so cruel? Why did the world seem to be against those who fought to keep it safe? Even the divine seemed to be deaf to the plight of those who serve them. Frankly, Wesley couldn't grasp why the good in this realm and all others could allow this to happen. Maybe it was just some big, cosmic joke on the lowly mortals and immortals that fought for love, hate, good, evil, and freedom. Something to laugh about while watching every living being lose something in the end, observing their reactions to the sudden twist of fate. If it was, Wesley was not amused.
Opening the door to his lonely apartment, the young man ignored the mess of books and lamps and old antiques as he contemplated the unfairness destiny have dropped in his lap. Very much like Atlas, both god and titan who was ordered to hold up the heavens on his shoulders for all eternity; Wesley is left to bear the knowledge of what was to come. At this moment, he could relate to that Greek mythical god, forced to bear the most burdensome decision by the Powers who seemed all too silent now.
Not bothering to turn on the lights, the tired, beaten young man tracked back to his bedroom, eyes haunted as replays of the three signs being fulfilled refused to let up. Questions and answers demanding for attention. Knowing it all brought conflict and despair instead of peace. He so desperately wanted to reach out and warn them all to the danger Connor is in, and yet he proved to not being strong enough to do so. For once, now knowing who, where, when, and how did not bring a satisfaction to this intellectual. Having the answer seemed to bind him up even more.
Kicking off his shoes, Wesley laid back on his bed, too tired to undress and go through his nightly rituals. Something he was very particular in doing. A word came to his mind. Disconnected. Disconnected from life, friends... everything.
He turned over, looking where a picture of the whole fang gang usually was. He numbly peeked over the edge of his bed, his eyes able to pick out the broken glass of the picture frame in the darkness. Shakily, he reached down and picked it up. The moonlight of the full moon shone brightly through the window. It was the picture taken before Cordelia's birthday. Wesley, Fred, Cordelia, and Gunn were scrunched up together on the orange couch in the hotel, while Angel sat on the couch arm, next to the brunette seer. In his arms was the newly born infant, asleep and comfortable and perfectly at ease.
The broken glass covered Connor; its spidery arms reaching Angel's face and all the way across to Wesley's neck. In a way, almost prophetic of events to come.
'You have answers, human. You search now, only for the question.'
'Is it true? Will Angel really kill his son as it says in the prophecies?'
'That the vampire will devour his child is certain. The dark question you harbor is only when."
"No," Wesley whispered, shaking his head.
'No. The dark question I harbor is 'how do I stop it?"
'It cannot be stopped.'
'It has to be stopped!' There must be a way...'
"But it can't be stopped," Wesley said aloud. "Can it?"
'You risk your life, human, calling on Loa. Perhaps what you really seek is death. The pain in your heart begs for it.'
'Then do it and be done. Nothing else will stop me.'
Wesley realized that even then he knew what he must do. Or more like it, believed. Believing a certain option was the only right thing to do. Because the truth was, he knew what the true good path would cost him and Angel. It needed to be done. Even if betrayal would be the only thing his family could describe what the right thing to do was.
'Simple mortal, your pain is just beginning. Betrayal and agony lie in wait, and time - is running out, yet still you ignore the question.'
The picture slid out of his hands, bounced off the mattress and further cracked when harshly connecting with the wood floor. Now, the crack in the glass cut Wesley off from the others in the picture completely.
"No more."
This was it. The line where he must cross. To be a traitor, or friend. And to be strong and brave enough to choose. He has his answers, and even now knows the question. Tomorrow, he will carry out what must be done. That is, if his resolve would hold out until morning.
A
Hunger fought with sleep. The thirst for the rich, tasty, human blood nearly had him growling aloud. But that wouldn't be a wise thing to do, not with the two slightly demon tinged humans sleeping beside him. Two mouth watering meals... Angel opened his eyes, realizing he was smelling his son's neck in his game face. And not in the 'Mmm-cute-baby-father-sniffing' way either.
He quietly left the bed, trying to keep his mouth from watering so much from the lingering smell his son left on his body. All he needed was something to drink, and then he'll be all cured from thinking of the two special people in his life as lunch.
Not bothering with warming up the blood, Angel quickly drank the 16 oz plastic container of blood. Strangely enough, it didn't satisfy him. He quickly helped himself to another, and another, and another till the last of the batch was gone. Thankfully, some of the edge was smoothed out, tampering down his need to rip into some warm throats.
It didn't occur to Angel how strange and wrong his gorging of a three day supply of blood was. And to be truthful, he couldn't if he tried. Not when his natural instincts were slowly breaching the surface, untying his self control one strand at a time.
Sex, blood, violence. Urges that now were pushing out reason as they did in his soulless days. Sadly, Cordelia didn't feel like satisfying one of those urges tonight. Quickly reminding him earlier that they were taking a break until Wes fully investigates this sudden thing with Angelus tapping into their bond. Plus, the baby was sleeping with them. Discussion closed... The urge to use violence on her was only tampered by the soul that was still very well intact.
And now, his baser urges were on the fore front of his mind. Blood was now lower on the list, but violence and sex wasn't. And when entering back in Cordy's room, they were the only thing on his mind. He grabbed the potion, one of the few things not broken in his trashed apartment, and held it tightly as he sat in the chair near the bed. Watching both Cordy and baby with a predator's hunger.
Memories of eating infants in front of their mothers caressed his foggy mind. Instead of appalling him, it made him grow even more excited. Raping the mothers afterwards caused fangs to itch.
He unconsciously opens the bottle as he looked at his lover. She had managed to kick off her blankets, revealing her short night shorts that tortured his overheating mind. Angel licked his lips as his hungry eyes burned a trail up her body. The body that was curled around the baby, one hand on top of his tummy in an unconscious protective manner.
Didn't she know what she was doing to him? That everything about her called out to the demon as well as the man?
All he had to do was take one... little... sip... He was a vampire, after all. Cordy may not realize it, but vampires have needs. Needs that surpass their human selves when they had a pulse. And Angelus was one whose needs were never quite satisfied.
Get a grip. You're acting like a teenager... A vampire teenager stuck in puberty.
Putting the bottle back on the night stand, Angel decided to do something constructive, keeping his mind off certain demanding urges. Such as sketching. Sketching was good. Sketching required focus on one thing. Except he didn't have his supplies here. Damn!
Sighing, he decided to lie back down and try to sleep. If he didn't inhale, then he wouldn't be reminded of how much his family was a temptation that was almost too hard to resist.
As the vampire finally found the sleep that eluded him, a certain ghost watched with dread. The only witness to negative tones that only someone supernatural could sense. And so, Phantom Dennis kept watch all night over the two vulnerable people in the bed, keeping a stake ready if needed.
A/N: You know what to do. Review. (Smiling while pointing at a chained up Angelus) Or maybe someone will unlock his chains and points him in your direction. Muah! Ha aha ha aha haaaaaa! Okay, empty threat. But still, a mean and scary thought, if you think about it.
