Chapter Three
There was no denying it: something was definitely wrong. The fact, however, that no one else seemed to be having strange hallucinations and, very occasionally, short conversations with people from their pasts made Angel less want to admit to his own visions. Something told him that if they couldn't see, hear, or feel them then it was entirely in Angel's own mind, thus it could be controlled and it was none of their concern. Plus, many of the memories that came up were either shameful or downright embarrassing, and well off the list of mentionable subjects.
Angel spent the entire next day following the incident in the garden trying to suppress the images of his past while perusing a few books in search of an answer. He was dismayed to find that, not only were they getting more frequent, but more engaging, as well. Oddly enough, it wasn't the image of his first child-victim spread out on his bedroom floor or the brief but overwhelming and painful flashback of when he was first cursed with a soul that made him finally seek out Wesley to ask again about the possible hallucinogenic properties in Numar mucus. No, it was the Barry Manilow concert: live, on stage, and in his very own living room.
Wesley was reading in his office when Angel ambled in. "Hey, Wes, how's it going?" He asked. Wesley looked up.
"Er…Fine, thank you. And yourself?"
"Great, I am great! Never better." Angel added a smile for good measure.
"Eh, did you want something, Angel?" Wesley took off his glasses, anticipating a longer conversation than simple greetings.
"Oh, no, I was just seeing how you're doing. You know, with your research…and….stuff…and life! How's life, Wesley? Good? Mine's good. I mean, not that I would…know…about life. Being dead…" Angel glanced down cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Angel, are you sure there isn't something you wanted?"
"No, no, I'm just taking an interest in what you do, Wesley." Angel ambled over to the desk to look at Wesley's notes as if to prove his words. "Can't I do that? I mean, can't friends take an interest in what their friends are doing?"
"Of course they can, but-"
"Great! So show me what you've been up to. Made any new discoveries, found any…" Angel took a breath, leafing through the pages of notes absentmindedly, "strange anomalies?"
Wesley sighed impatiently. "Angel, what's this about?" Angel made and broke eye contact with Wesley several times before sighing and sitting down in the chair in front of Wesley's desk. In a lowered voice he said, "I've been seeing…things."
Wesley's eyebrows rose. "What kind of things?"
Angel hesitated. "People, mostly. A lot of people from my past. They come and go; nothing really happens."
"People from your past?" Wesley leaned forward and frowned, knowing full well this couldn't mean anything good. "How long has this been going on?"
"Since the night we killed the Numar. It doesn't happen that much, I don't think it's serious. I just thought you should know."
"I quite agree. Now tell me," Wesley picked up a pad of paper and a pencil to take notes. "Do they talk to you? Can you hear them, smell them?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, they talk, I hear, I smell. Everything." Wesley jotted something down.
"And," Angel added, "this isn't the first time something like this has happened. A few years ago the First appeared to me like this."
"You think it's The First?" Wesley frowned.
"Not necessarily. It feels different. But maybe not, I don't know."
"Well, we'll keep that in mind, then. But let's gather a bit more information first. Often hallucinations have very simple explanations and I'd like to explore other options. Now, whom have you seen?"
Angel shifted, wondering how many details Wesley was going to press for. "Oh, well, you know. Just random people. Darla, Drusilla, some of my victims…why does it matter?"
"I want to know if there are any common denominators: time period, if they're living or dead, even where they come from or where you met them. It might lead to some clues as to what's causing it."
Angel shifted again, then said, "there doesn't seem to be any similarities like that. It feels random."
Wesley jotted something else down. "And when they appear, do-" the shrill noise of the telephone in the other room interrupted Wesley.
"I'll get it!" Angel jumped up.
"But-" Wesley protested. But before he could point out that Cordelia was perfectly capable of answering the phone herself, Angel was out of the office and on the phone, jotting down a message and taking no notice of Cordelia's bewildered and somewhat irked stares.
By the time Wesley made it to the doorway, Angel was hanging up and finishing the notes he was furiously scribbling. "Tip about a vampire nest in Malibu. I'd better take care of it." He tore the sheet of paper off the pad.
"Yes, I quite agree," Wesley said as Angel grabbed his coat off the hook. "Why don't you take Cordelia and Gunn with you? I daresay it's been a rather quiet evening and -"
"No, it's ok, I've got it," Angel interrupted, heading for the weapons cabinet with Wesley close behind him.
"I know you've 'got' it, Angel, I'm just saying –"
"Really Wesley, it's ok. I'll be back soon."
"Angel," Cordelia said from behind Wesley, "if Wesley our boss wants us to go…" She stared pointedly at him. Angel gave a short sigh.
"Fine, go get Gunn and meet me outside. I'm bringing the car around." Angel turned and pushed open the door, eager to get out into the night air where he couldn't smell his sister's betrayed terror as he drank from her nearly 250 years earlier.
QQQQQQQQ
"Psst. We're going to destroy the world. Want to come?"
"Not now." Angel said as he ducked a vampire's bony fist and sent a blow into the stomach of his attacker.
"Hey, you're the one who picked the fight, not me," the young vampire said through gasps, moving in for another swing.
"So mom's like, 'Do you think Ted will like this?' and 'This is Ted's favorite show,'…"
Something hard hit Angel's jaw and sent him sprawling to the floor.
"Darling Boy. Still so young. Still so very young."
Angel's head snapped up in time to watch Darla fade into a nameless vampire in a 90's get-up, but was not quick enough to evade a well-placed kick in the stomach.
"…and 'Ted's teaching me computers,'…"
"Angel, man, a little help here!" Three vampires were closing in on Gunn. Angel got to his feet. The same vampire blocked his path. A punch, a kick, a stake. One down.
"Come on. When was the last time you unleashed it?"
Angel turned to find where Spike's voice was coming from.
"Angel!" Gunn and Cordy's unison voices echoed somewhere behind him. Angel turned again. Cordy had gotten one of the vampires, but two more were fast approaching. Another kick, and another floored.
"…and 'Ted said the funniest thing,'…"
"All out fight in a mob, back against the wall, nothing but fists and fangs?"
A vampire grabbed Angel from behind and threw him into the cinderblock wall. When Angel turned to face the assailant, his sharp teeth glistened in the fluorescent light. A second vampire joined, holding a sword. The first kicked, punched, and threw, and Angel was down.
"…and I'm like, 'That's really great, Mom, and then she said I was being sarcastic '…"
Two more caught the end of Gunn's stake. How many were left?
A kick brought Angel back to his own struggle. Looking up he watched the second vampire raise the sword over his head. He watched as it dusted, the sword clanging on the ground. The first vampire stared at Cordelia, stake in hand, temporarily stunned. Recovering quickly, it made for her.
"…which I was, but I'm sorry if I don't wanna talk about Ted all the time."
"Cordy!" Gunn made for Cordy, but got a hit in the stomach. Cordelia was gasping for breath against the far wall. Angel jumped up.
"Don't you ever get tired of fights you know you're going to win?"
It was dust. Rookie mistake. Let her keep the stake in her hand when he went for the kill.
"My only desire here - is to discover if a thing such as yourself can be made to pay for its sins."
A blow to his back and Angel was down again. This time he avoided the following kick and was back up in time to aim his fist at the beast's temple.
"You're a demon. It is your nature to maim and kill."
The brittle bone crushed under Angel's fist – he felt it, heard it, and something deep inside him purred with savage satisfaction. A kick to the solar plexus, a strike to the exposed back, and a foot to anchor the thing to the floor while the head came off and fell to dust through Angel's fingers.
"This one... cannot be burnt. He is clean. There's no humanity in him."