Gunn watched Cordelia stare at the book with the passage on the urn. Based on previous trends they had two minutes before she slammed the book down and grunted in frustration. She was a little ahead of schedule when she shoved the book closed with unnecessary force and growled. "I hate this stupid urn and the stupid vague descriptions of it. What the hell is it for?"

"Well Cordy," Gunn said "Since the last time you asked that I actually-"

She held up her hand. "No, not in the mood."

Fred came downstairs. "What are you two fighting about?"

"What else?" Gunn asked "The urn,"

Fred gave Cordelia a smile that was both sympathetic and disapproving. "Cordy when the powers want us to know what the urn is for they'll tell you. Until then it doesn't matter."

"But it does matter Fred. Something-"

"Is coming," Gunn interrupted "You may have mentioned that a few times."

"This is serious." Cordelia said

"You've been saying that for a week. You've been rereading that book for a week. It's gotten you nowhere." Gunn reached for the book and put it on the counter. "Let it go."

"Please Cordelia," Fred said "We're worried about you."

Cordelia looked away. They didn't understand, couldn't understand. What the powers had shown her, the urgency of it; that was more important than her health. Whatever was coming it was something terrible. It would lay waste to everything. But she couldn't tell them that. They were both happy, happier than either of them had been in a long time. Losing Conner, then Wesley, then Angel, then Conner again, had taken its toll. But now Angel was back and the team was regaining its rhythm. Whatever was coming Cordelia had to find it and stop it. She had to keep it from destroying her friends. She saw Angel descend the staircase. "Hey," She smiled.

"Hey," He smiled back. It still stunned her that in the time since he'd been back she had been unable to find the appropriate time or place to talk about what they had been heading to the beach to talk about. It stunned her that he hadn't even brought it up. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing, you?"

Angel shrugged. "Ready for a day of hard work. What do we have?"

"A big fat nothing," Gunn said

Angel raised an eyebrow. "No open cases?"

Fred shook her head. "Nope,"

"No visions?" He looked at Cordy.

"Not since the stupid urn vision that still hasn't been resolved." She said, unable to hide the bitter undertones in her voice "I guess the powers don't have much else to say."

"You know who I wish were here?" Fred asked, wistfully

Gunn felt his heart leap into his throat. She wasn't going to say it. How could she say it in front of Cordelia and Angel? That she could even think it bothered him.

"Lorne,"

Gunn let out a sigh of relief that nobody noticed.

"How's he been?" Angel asked

"We don't know, he hardly ever answers our calls." Cordy said

"He moved to Vegas, got famous, and forgot about the little people back home." Gunn said "Even when you were missing and we would call for psychic assistance he avoided us."

"That's kind of weird." Said Angel

"Yeah, fame changed him." Fred said

Cordy looked wistfully into the distance. "Fame," She said longingly

"Down Cordy," Gunn said

She shoved him playfully. "I do kind of miss him."

"Well he chose to leave and forget about us, nothing we can do about it." Gunn said

"Not unless we packed up and went to Vegas." Fred joked

Cordelia gasped and sat up straight. "No," Angel and Gunn said simultaneously

"Hear me out." She said "If I sing for Lorne he might be able to tell me what this stupid urn is for. I could sing and he could give me a reading. Plus, road trip. We need one."

Angel shook his head. "I don't like the idea of leaving the city."

"Why not?" Cordelia asked

"Well what if something happens to Conner."

"Pfft, what's going to happen to him in a couple of days?" Cordelia asked

"I'd like to go see Lorne." Fred said "Maybe when he sees us he'll remember what good friends we are and feel bad about abandoning us." She started to look excited.

"I don't know…" Angel said

"I wouldn't mind a trip to Vegas." Gunn admitted

Angel sighed. "It looks like I'm outvoted."

Cordelia clapped her hands together repeatedly. "Yeah! Road trip!" She gasped. "I have to pack!" She ran for the front door. Her three companions watched her go in stunned silence.

"That's the happiest I've seen her in a good while." Gunn noted

"Really?" Angel asked

Gunn nodded and Fred elaborated. "She was so upset when you went missing, and she's been stressed about this urn thing for the past week. Well that and…" Too late she considered that saying Conner's name in front of Angel might not be the best idea.

"It's okay Fred. I'm over it."

"Really?" She was surprised.

"No," He admitted "But maybe it's good that we're all getting out of town. We can try to forget about certain things for a little while." He gave her an encouraging smile.

…

Wesley woke up and looked at his scarred arm. The long scar was the right length and in the right position. The cut should have killed him. He sat up and ran his thumb along the scar. He felt a dry heat in his throat. He coughed, and blood flew from his mouth, staining his sheets. Wes got out of bed and promptly fell to the ground, too weak to stand. Whatever was happening to him was keeping him alive, but it was also making him weak. Wesley coughed some more, getting blood on the carpet. He crawled into the kitchen and used the refrigerator door handle to pull himself up. He opened the freezer and reached for a handful of ice. He felt the ice melting in his super-heated hands. He pressed the ice against his face and throat. It took less than a minute for the ice to have melted into water and then evaporated into the air. Wesley stood in front of the open freezer. The cold air felt so good, but it wasn't enough to bring down the temperature of his scorching skin. Wesley pulled a carton of ice cream from the freezer. He closed the freezer door and staggered over to the dining room table. He grabbed a spoon on his way. He tried to fill his body with the cold substance in an attempt to bring down his internal temperature. It wasn't happening. Wesley was sweating so much that the chair he was sitting in was covered in salty water after only a few minutes. He put his head in his hands. Why was this happening to him, and why now? He had been so close to ending it all and now events were conspiring to keep him here and keep him in pain. Was this his fate? Was this how his life was going to play out?

…

"Yeah, road trip!" Cordelia seemed pretty excited as they loaded their gear into the car.

"We haven't had a vacation in- We've never had a vacation." Gunn said

"I know." Cordelia gushed "Our first real vacation."

"You've had vacations before." Angel said "You had one less than a year ago."

"This is different." Cordelia said "We're all going on vacation together."

"Because there's no one I'd rather go on vacation with than an undead photophobic and an overexcited seer." Gunn said "They make the best vacation buddies."

"Don't worry." Fred put her hand on his shoulder. "We'll ditch them and hang out on the casino floor the whole time. I can count cards and pay our bar tab with blackjack."

"Is it possible for you to be any hotter right now?" Gunn leaned in for a kiss.

Cordelia rolled her eyes to conceal her internal emotions. Seeing Gunn and Fred together reminded her of the meeting she'd never had with Angel. Would that ever be resolved? She adopted a jovial tone that gave away nothing. "Okay love birds, get in the car. We've got a lot of driving to get in before sunrise." Cordelia got into the passenger seat.

"Yes mom," Gunn said as he and Fred got into the back

In what felt like no time at all Angel investigations was cruising down the strip. Cordelia was joyously pointing out signs and landmarks. "Where do you think Lorne is?" Fred asked her

"He's probably performing at a lower end joint." Gunn said

"Or not," Angel rebutted

"What?" Cordelia asked "Do you think he's singing at the Riviera with his mug?"

"Not the Riviera," Angel pointed at a flashing billboard. It advertised the Tropicana's current main attraction with a giant picture of Krevelorneswath of the Deathwok clan.

"Huh," Cordy said "Well that's… huh,"

…

Lilah gave herself one last look-over in the mirror. It wouldn't do to show up at work with any flaws in her appearance. She heard a knock at her door. Odd, she wasn't expecting anyone. She walked up to the front door and looked through the peephole. It was Wesley, and he didn't look so good. She opened the door. "Geez Wes, what the hell happened to you?"

He was holding onto the doorframe to support himself, too weak to stand without it. He was a milky pale and his clothes were soaked through with sweat. "I need your help."

Lilah snickered. "It looks like you do, but I'm not big on doing favors for people."

"Please Lilah," The plaintive tone in his voice was one she had never heard from him before. He coughed, and blood dripped from his mouth onto his shirt. "I don't have anywhere else to go." Blood stained the edges of his mouth and dripped down his chin. It was disgusting.

She considered closing the door in his face. What would happen? Would he collapse to the ground and choke to death on his own blood? Did that bother her? He looked so weak and helpless, pathetic. Weak people, she ate them for breakfast. But she knew he wasn't like this, would never choose to let this happen to him. What must it be like for him to have to crawl to her door begging for help? She stepped out of her threshold, clearing his way. "Come in."

…

Angel took his seat at their table. "This is surreal." Cordy said as she scooted down to make room for him. "Lorne is some kind of superstar now? How is that even… what?"

"He is a pretty good singer." Fred reminded them

"He told us he had an album coming out." Gunn recalled

"Okay, fine, but he's a de-" Cordelia looked around. "D-e-m-o-n." She whispered

"People probably just think it's makeup." Fred said "Like the blue man group." She thought for a moment. "Hey you don't think the blue man group-"

"Only two of them," Angel said

The curtain opened and revealed Lorne sitting on a bar stool. The lights were dim and mist floated out onto the stage. He began to sing. Angel had almost forgotten that the demon was in fact an excellent singer. "Wow," Cordelia said "That's beautiful,"

"Yeah," Fred said

The group watched the show in awe. Lorne was in his element, connecting with the crowd, merging with the music. This was his calling. Angel enjoyed listening to the music, enjoyed watching his old friend do what he was made for and enjoy doing it. When the show was over AI followed the crowd of fans backstage. The fans had out their autograph books and were buzzing with excitement. When Lorne emerged the crowd lost it. "Lorne!" Angel shouted

The Pylean ignored Angel and his friends. "He's acting like he doesn't see us." Fred said

Lorne signed a few autographs and then departed for his dressing room. "I don't believe it." Cordelia said "He totally snubbed us. What a jerk,"

Angel didn't say anything, he just shrugged and walked back toward the casino. Cordelia followed him. Fred and Gunn stood amidst the departing crowd. "Something's wrong." Fred said

"I'll say." Gunn said "I guess fame really does change people."

"No," Fred said "He acted like he didn't see us at all. It was like he was pretending not to know us. Why would he do that?" She looked around at the now empty hallway.

"You think something spooky is going on." Gunn deduced

Fred nodded.

Gunn grinned. "Now we get to get our sneak on?"

"We need to get into that dressing room." Fred said

Gunn leaned forward and kissed her. "You're so sexy when you're breaking rules."

…

Conner walked along the edge of the rooftop. He heard footsteps approaching, but he ignored them. "What's a nice boy like you doing out at this time of night?" A female voice asked

"I don't know."

"Would you like to come home with me?"

"I don't date vampires." Conner said

There was a moment of silence. "Well that takes the formalities out of the way." He heard her run at him, but he didn't move until the last possible moment. He grabbed her and used her own momentum to throw her off the roof. He jumped down after her. Most people would have broken at least a leg, but he was fine. He threw her against the wall before she had regained her footing. He pulled a stake from his back pocket and shoved it into her chest. He saw her face for the first time and watched it dissolve into dust. She was pretty. He stared at the pile of dust on the ground. She wasn't pretty anymore. She was gone, and she couldn't hurt anybody ever again.

Conner wanted to go home and tell Cordelia what he did. She didn't want to see him. She would never want to see him again. He had nowhere to go, and he was tired again. He had been sleeping a couple hours at a time in deserted locales. His highly attuned senses would pick up on something and he would be gone again. He longed for a true sleep. He thought about the shelter and Anne. What would she think if he told her about the vampire? What would she think of him?

Conner started down the street toward the shelter he had unintentionally memorized the location of. He couldn't tell her about the vampire of course, about any of it really. But he could get some sleep and maybe she would listen to a few things. He could tell her that he had a complicated relationship with his father and that his father had thrown him out. That wasn't as impossible to believe as his father being a vampire. Maybe he could just talk to her, it had been a long time since he'd sat down and had an honest conversation with someone without there being any angles or hidden agendas. In fact, he couldn't remember a single honest interaction with anyone. Holtz had used him, Conner had never trusted Angel, Conner had lied to Cordy, Fred, and Gunn. He had no one he could be himself with. But she didn't know who he was, so maybe he could be himself with her. At the very least he was going to get a real sleep. He couldn't do this anymore. He had to find a place where he could close his eyes for more than a few hours.

…

Lorne sighed as he took a seat on the couch. He knew what was coming. He was going to have to condemn three people to a fate comparable to death. If he refused, a young woman would die and the blood would be on his hands. More people would continue to die, until he gave in. That's what had happened last time. Lorne wished he had never left L.A. He heard a knock on the door and sighed, here it came. The slimy skeezeball who ran this place entered.

"Lorne," He said "What a fantastic show!"

Lorne displayed a very fake smile. "Well, I do my best."

"Yes you do, and now," He snapped his fingers at his bodyguard.

Lorne picked up the seating chart for the ballroom where he had performed. "Can we do this later Lee, I'm kind of tired." Lorne knew delaying was pointless, but he couldn't stand it.

"Sure Lorne, sure we can do this later, right after I pink slip another girl from your act."

Lorne looked at the man's unrepentant grin. Lorne pointed out the people with the most valuable destinies on the chart. "That's it." Lorne said "Now will you leave me alone?"

"You're invaluable." The proprietor said "Keep it up kid!" He left

Lorne sat on the couch, wallowing in misery. The last few months had been total hell for him. First he had gotten captured and held hostage by this psycho, then the man had forced Lorne to choose between being complicit in the theft of people's destinies or having to watch a girl being murdered in front of him until he agreed. Then he'd had to deal with the fact that Angel was in trouble and there was nothing that Lorne could do to help his friends while his captor was keeping watching him. Even the thing Lorne most loved, performing, had become the worst part of every day. Each performance sealed the fates of audience members, doomed them to an existence devoid of meaning. Lorne couldn't allow it any more. He stood up and grabbed a bottle of vodka. He stood just to the side of the door. The next time the casino proprietor or one of his goons opened the door Lorne was going to clobber them and make a run for it. He was going to escape or die trying. Seeing Angel and his other friends had inspired him. He might not be a champion like Angel, but he could find a way to stop these travesties from taking place.

He stood there for a long time waiting for the door to open. When it did he brought the bottle forward to collide with the entrant's head, shifting its trajectory at the last moment to avoid hitting the girl with the green makeup and fake horns. She shouted in surprise. "I'm sorry honey." Lorne said, cursing himself "I was trying to- Fred!" He recognized the face under the makeup. "Is that really you Fredikins? Oh bless my heart, you're here to rescue me!"

Fred gaped at Lorne. "What do you mean rescue you? You're being held prisoner?"

Lorne wrapped Fred in a hug. "I knew you guys would figure out my code."

"What code?" She asked when he released her

"Every time I called I asked about Fluffy, the dog you don't have. That's code for help me, I'm being held hostage." Lorne spoke as though this were obvious

"Right," Fred said "So we need to rescue you?"

Lorne nodded.

"Okay, time to think of a plan."

…

Wesley heard the front door of Lilah's apartment open. She was back. He was lying on the bed in the guest bedroom, a metallic waste basket was at the bedside about a tenth filled with blood. A pitcher of ice had been next to a glass of cold water on the nightstand when she left. It had taken only a few hours for him to drink it all and he was still so thirsty. He heard her throw her purse onto the couch and head for the kitchen. He could hear her designer shoes hitting the tile. His breathing was shallow and his lungs were coated in blood. He heard her approach the guest room. She appeared in the doorway munching on a sandwich. "How do you feel?" She asked as though he was only suffering from a slight cold "Because you look like death."

"I don't feel much better." He admitted

"No, I imagine not." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pouch. "The guys in spells and potions swear by this stuff for bringing down mystical fevers." She put the pouch on the nightstand and picked up the pitcher. "I'll get you some more water."

He waited until she came back with the pitcher of ice water. "Why are you helping me?"

She shrugged. "Having someone drop dead outside my front door seemed like an inconvenience." She poured some of the water into the glass. "I'd have to call a cleaning crew."

Wesley started the laugh, but the laughter turned into coughing up more blood. He picked up the waste basket and spewed the blood into it. "You're such a sentimentalist."

"Yeah," She said "What the hell is wrong with me?" She still had that amused smile.

"I think I'm dying."

"Well you certainly look like you're dying." She assured him

"It's ironic." He said

"I hate that word." She said "So you better have a good excuse for using it."

He rolled up a shirtsleeve and showed her his scar. "It's killing me, but it won't let me die." He rolled the sleeve back down and then sprinkled some of the powder into his glass of water. "It wants me to die, but not yet." He drank the entire glass in one gulp.

"Well that's more pathetic than ironic." Lilah said

"I don't agree." He said "Nobody says you're a coward for emigrating from one country to another, why is it so bad to immigrate dimensions? I just wanted out." He put the glass down.

"Well somebody isn't done with you." Lilah said "Why did you want out anyway?"

"I'm tired." He said "And I didn't have any more reasons to stay."

Lilah nodded. "Well you're pretty stupid for a smart guy. There's no resting there."

"You'd know." He admitted "But I wouldn't be able to make any more mistakes."

"Just the last one." She said

He poured more water into his blood-stained glass. "Why did you do it?" He asked

"Sell my soul?" She asked

He nodded.

"Gee there were so many reasons." She said "The money was probably the clincher."

He smiled in amusement. "Of course,"

"What about you? Why did you sign up to be a white hat?"

He shrugged. "Well I could tell you all the same lies I told myself, but there wouldn't be much point to that. The truth is that I just did what other people told me to do. The one time I tried to take charge of my own fate I ended up with my throat cut. Sometimes the people ordering me around were cruel, and sometimes they were kind, but it all amounted to the same thing. I thought I could be better than that, that I could be somebody. I was wrong."

"You're big on the self-pity huh?"

"I don't feel sorry for myself."

"Well that's one thing we have in common." She told him "But for what it's worth I thought you were somebody. I thought you were somebody to manipulate and hurt, but that's still somebody." She shook her head and turned to leave the room.

"What would you have thought?" He asked her

She turned back around. "If you had killed yourself?"

He nodded.

"Nothing, then you wouldn't be anybody anymore." She left the room.

…

Angel sat at the poker table next to Cordelia. "I can't believe he just brushed us off."

"What a jerk," Cordelia said "It's one thing to dodge someone's calls. I mean I do that to my own mother. But to just act like we weren't even there. That really hurts."

Angel nodded. He used his vampire senses to read the heart rate of the other players. He folded. "I mean the value of friendship, is that just gone from the world?"

Cordelia shifted in discomfort. She sensed that Angel was thinking about more than just their green-skinned buddy. "After everything we went through together." She agreed

"You just never really know a person these days."

"You really don't."

"One minute everything is all fine and hunky dory, and the next everyone is ignoring you in a Vegas casino and keeping secrets and dropping you at the bottom of the ocean."

One player looked up and gave them an odd look. "What?" Cordelia asked him

The other player looked away again. Angel looked at his cards and maintained his poker face. He read everyone else's heartbeat. "You think you can trust someone, and then they stab you in the back. They lie to you and they kidnap your son. You fight side by side with somebody, you trust them absolutely with your life, with something that means more to you than your life, and they betray you. I don't even know anymore Cordelia, I really don't." He raised.

"Angel," She said "We were all hurt by what Wesley did."

Angle twitched upon hearing the name. "I don't want to talk about that."

"I think you do." She said kindly

"I don't want to talk about him, think about him, or even-" Angel stared at his cards.

"Angel," She put her hand on his back.

"I thought I could forget about him."

"You can't just forget about someone, not when they meant that much to you."

"So what do I do? What did you do?"

She picked up one of her chips and tapped it against the top of a stack. "Sometimes," She smiled. "I think about the old days, back in the beginning. I think about what we all went through together and I think about the three of us just sitting around the office. We would talk, fight; God Wes and I used to fight about everything. Sometimes I would forget what we were fighting about and just keep going because I knew that I was right and I had to win." She used her chip to gesture at herself for emphasis. The smile was still there. "Then I think about Conner." The smile slipped away. "I think about holding him in my arms as a baby. I think about realizing he was gone, that he was really gone. I think about him coming back in so much pain. So I think of those old times again and I think of Doyle." Angel jerked in surprise. "I realize I'm remembering Wesley the same way I remembered Doyle after-" She held back the tears. "And I realize that he's dead to me. Only Wesley didn't die in a heroic sacrifice to save your life. He died because he stabbed a knife in our backs. But he's just as dead to me, and memories are just that."

Angel turned and embraced Cordelia. "It's going to be okay, we'll get through this."

"Do you guys want to maybe take this somewhere else?" A player asked

"No way, I have a straight flush." Angel said

Everyone folded. "Angel," Cordelia's voice was weary.

"I know, I shouldn't have tipped my hand."

"No," She said "We need to go."

Angel looked at her and saw 'vision' written clearly on her face. "Let's go." He said

…

Conner sat at the table in the empty rec room with Anne. They were sharing a bowl of ice cream with two spoons. "And your mom didn't say anything?" Anne asked

"Nope," Conner said "She wanted me gone too, they all did."

"Well they're missing out on a great kid." Anne said

Conner smiled and shook his head. "Not really,"

"Hey," She said "I mean it. You've made mistakes Conner, but you're a nice boy. It was wrong of you to throw your dad's stuff into the ocean, but he should have at least tried to talk to you before just kicking you out. Especially considering the things that have happened to you."

Conner shrugged. "I never got along with him anyway." Conner said

"Why is that?" Anne asked "What was the initial trigger?"

Conner sighed. "It all started when one of my dad's friends kidnapped me when I was younger and I lived with another relative for a few years. He told me he was my dad."

"Right," Anne said "How many years was that again?"

Conner said the first number that popped into his head. "Seven,"

"That's crazy," Anne said "Your dad didn't try to help you through that at all?"

"I guess he did." Conner admitted "But it isn't that simple."

"No," Anne agreed "It takes time to get over something like that, the scars never fade."

Conner nodded emphatically. "My dad just doesn't understand what it's like for me."

Anne gave him a sympathetic smile. "Nobody's perfect Conner." She said "We all make mistakes. Sometimes it's hard for us to understand another person's situation. We want to think we would have done so many things differently, but we're looking at their situation from our own perspective. Your dad probably wanted you to get over what happened faster than you could because he couldn't truly comprehend how traumatic it was for you. He wasn't there."

"No," Conner said bitterly "He wasn't. He wasn't there and he let them take me."

"Conner," Anne said "I'm sure your dad would have done anything to prevent that."

"But he couldn't!" Conner leaned back forcefully into the couch. "He couldn't protect me." Conner stared at the opposing wall, holding in angry tears. "He was supposed to."

Anne reached over the table and took his hand. He looked at her, comforted by the maternal concern. "I know you're angry Conner, but sometimes forgiveness is the best cure."

Conner looked away again. "It's hard. I'm so angry, where does that anger go?"

"You just have to let it go." Anne said

"I can't." Conner said

"I know." She said "I see that, but maybe one day you can."

Conner nodded. "Maybe, one day."

"Get some sleep Conner." Anne said, picking up the ice cream bowl "You need it."

…

Angel threw open the doors of the office Cordelia had led them to. Inside Lorne, Fred, and Gunn were being held at gunpoint. "Thank heavens," Lorne said "Angel-cakes,"

"What's going on here?" Angel asked

"Well we got captured." Fred said

Angel shot her a look. "I meant what's the evil du' jour?"

"Right," She said "Evil casino guy is using an enchanted wheel to steal destinies."

The casino proprietor stepped forward. "And just who might you be?"

"Angel," Angel said "And you're holding my friends captive."

"Gee," The guy said "Should I feel bad about that?"

Angel vamped out and attacked one of the guards pointing a gun at Fred's head. Gunn elbowed the one behind him and soon they were all in the fray. Cordelia tossed the slime ball himself to the ground, but was then distracted by a mook. Lorne ran for the glass orb holding all the destinies. He picked up a heavy metal cylinder to smash it with. The proprietor rushed to his feet and stepped in front of the orb. "We can talk about this." He said "I can give you everything you ever wanted. Fame, money, what will it take?" The man pleaded

Lorne shoved him aside and smashed the orb. Destinies spilled out and rushed off to find their proper owners. "You should have known better than to mess with my friends." Lorne said

Cordelia smiled and shot a look at Angel. Angel returned her grin.

…

Wesley was in a strange place. He wasn't awake, but he wasn't really asleep either. He was only peripherally aware of reality. He felt the fire, burning. His body was in revolt, boiling his blood like a pot of water on the stove that someone had left on high and then walked away and forgotten about. His internal organs were warping and deforming. His insides were changing. As he changed blood poured out of remodeling organs and rearranging vessels. He felt the blood in places it shouldn't be, including his lungs. He was aware of all of this, but beyond that reality was outside his perception. He was in another world, a dream world, a waking dream.

He was in a hallway, being dragged down the hallway. He was a little boy, maybe six. "If you want to act like a fool maybe some time in the cupboard will teach you a lesson."

He wanted to drag his heels, but he knew better. "Please daddy, I'm sorry."

"I don't ask much of you boy, but I won't tolerate you embarrassing me."

He began to cry. He knew he wasn't supposed to cry, but he hated the dark. He didn't want to be put in the dark again. "I'm sorry daddy, I'll do better next time. I won't make a mistake next time. I'll get it right." The tears thickened his voice. "Please daddy, I'm afraid."

His dad threw open the door under the staircase. "Afraid of the dark are you?"

His father shoved him through the door. Wesley stood in the doorway and nodded.

"That simply won't do. A watcher mustn't be afraid of anything. You stay in there now boy, and if I see a light under the door you'll be in for a severe thrashing, you hear?" Roger Wyndam-Pryce watched his son bring his head slowly up and down. He slammed the door shut and Wesley heard the click of the lock. There was no light, not a single ray. Wesley couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. He knew there was a footstool in the cupboard and if he stood on it he could reach the chain for the hanging light bulb. But if he turned the light on he would get in even more trouble, have to sit in the dark for even longer. Wesley sat down on the ground and leaned against the shelves that held mother's jams. He hated the dark and the idea of what might be hiding there waiting for him. There could be spiders crawling on his clothes, demons lurking in the shadows, or vampires. Wesley was terrified of vampires. Father said he was going to show Wesley a real vampire one day, said every watcher had to face one. Wesley didn't want that. If he had to stay in the dark, had to see vampires, he didn't want to be a watcher. But he couldn't tell father that. Father would be very angry that Wesley would dare to even think such a thing. He would be even angrier than he was now about Wesley's botched attempt at his weekly Latin translations. Wesley went over it in his head. He'd messed up the tenses. He tried to list them mentally, but he kept getting distracted by thoughts of spiders and vampires. He was scared, so scared, and he just wanted to turn the light on. Why was it so dark?

Wesley didn't know how long it had been when his father opened the door. Wesley wiped the tears off his face, it wouldn't do to anger father further. "Well boy, what do you have to say for yourself now?" Wesley looked at his father's stern face. He was afraid. What if he said the wrong thing and got locked under the stairs again? He was so terrified. "Well?"

Wesley swallowed, his throat felt funny. "I'm sorry. I-"

Father cut him off. "Don't say that." His voice was harsh, angry. "Don't ever say that."

"I'm s-" Wesley flinched, but managed to keep the reflexive reply back. "Why?"

"Just fix it. If you make a mistake fix it, and don't make it again."

"What if I can't?" Wesley asked "What if I can't fix it?"

"Find a way." Father said "Fix it, or you'll have to be punished some more."

"Yes Father, I-" He closed his eyes. Don't say it, ever. "I'll do better."

"Good boy," He stepped back, letting Wesley leave the cupboard. "Was that so bad?"

He shook his head. He just wanted to go to his room and fix his mistake. "No Father,"

"Go on then." Wesley took care not to run, though he so wanted to.

He heard a voice. "Wes," Who was that? "Wesley," His childhood home dissolved and he was in the fire again, unseeing. "Wesley wake up." His vision cleared and he saw her.

"Lilah,"

"Expecting someone else?" She teased

"No," He tried to pull himself into sitting position, but hadn't the strength. "I don't think it worked." He said in reference to the mystical fever powder she had procured for him

"I'd have to say not." She pulled his shoulders, helping him to sit up against the headboard. "You were mumbling in your sleep." She informed him

"I wasn't asleep, I was hallucinating." He said

"Bad sign," She told him

"I'd say so." He agreed

"What were you hallucinating about?" She asked

"My father," He wondered why he told her that.

"I see,"

"What did I say?" He asked

"That you would do better." She informed him

"Oh," He hated that she had seen into the part of him that he hid so carefully from everyone, even if she had only caught a glimpse.

"Did you?"

"I tried."

"We all try our best for daddy." She said

Wesley flinched. "Sometimes you're a real bitch."

"It's sort of my shtick." She reminded him

"But thank you." He said "For not turning me away."

She shrugged. "It doesn't really matter does it? You're dying."

He tried to nod, but couldn't. "Aren't we all?"

"Deep," She mocked "Poetic,"

"Screw you Lilah," He coughed again, aspirating more blood.

"Well you were doing that for me, until your little predicament arose."

"Couldn't be helped." He said

She shrugged. "Well, these things happen I suppose. Anyway," She started to leave. "I recommend you turn your thoughts to more cheery memories; all that moaning, it's bothersome."

She was gone. He lay there, trying to stay awake and aware. He hated this. He hated being weak and helpless. He wanted to do something, to fight. He wanted to take action.

…

Cordelia relaxed in the passenger seat and enjoyed the cold night air on her skin as they drove out of Vegas. "What did we learn today kids?" Angel asked

"Vegas is a horrible, horrible place." Gunn said "We're never coming back."

"It's not all bad." Fred said "I won five hundred dollars counting cards."

"Vegas is a wonderful place and we should come back every year." Gunn amended

"Not me." Lorne said "I'm never leaving L.A. again."

Angel smiled. "Good, we missed you."

"The feeling is mutual Angel-cakes." Lorne said

"I just wish we'd found out what was happening to you sooner so we could have helped you earlier." Cordelia said "I hate to think of all the grief you endured, and we didn't even know what was going on." Cordelia turned around and gave Lorne a comforting smile.