Chapter 9

There wasn't anything wrong with throwing a client across a conference room, per se, he thought. Angel just couldn't see what all the fuss about, or why Will was holding him back. This guy was jerk and Angel wanted to hit something, the equation seemed simple, he told himself. Apparently, the other people present weren't following his math.

Will and Wes guided him out of the conference room. Actually, they more or less dragged him from the conference room. If Angel hadn't been exhausted, he might have put up more of a fight. As it was though, he couldn't do much more than protest and try to get out of their grip.

Gunn played clean up, but wonder of wonders, wasn't able to convince the client to stay with the firm. Gunn wasn't sorry about that, the guy was a jerk, but he didn't think Angel should have thrown him across the room. That wasn't kosher, Gunn thought. It didn't take him long to catch up to the others. He could hear the yelling match down the hall.

Angel was pacing the room, yelling with great animation. Gunn was actually a little relieved, this was the most animated he had seen Angel in a very long time. Wes was trying to calm him down, Will was leaning against Angel's desk with a look of great concern on his face, and Gunn quietly positioned himself next the wet bar. He was hoping Angel wasn't going to go for a drink.

"Angel, it doesn't matter how big of an ass that man is, you can't…"

Angel didn't let him finish his sentence, "he beats his wife! He should be in prison, or better yet, beaten within an inch of his life and left to dangle by his ankles from the top of building. We're supposed to stop people like that, not defend them!"

Gunn jumped in, trying to save Wes from what was looking like an argument about to turn physical. "We weren't going to defend him. The evidence is too great. I wanted to talk him into a plea bargain so we could avoid a trial, because there is no way he could win."

"You don't get it! He just blamed his wife for him beating her! She's in the hospital! And this is our client! I…" He stopped, suddenly feeling a little short of breath and very dizzy. He felt hands grabbing at him, and suddenly he was pushed into a chair and his head was being shoved towards his knees. Nausea swept up into his throat, but deep breaths and keeping his head down forced the bile in his throat back down.

Will's voice sounded far away, but it was starting to come into focus. He slowly picked his head up, straightening in the chair, and put his hand up to indicate to Will to stop yelling. The world stopped spinning, but he knew any sudden movements would start the roller coaster from hell feeling again.

"When was the last time you ate?" Wes was staring very intently at him.

He shook his head, trying to force the words out, as feelings he couldn't give name too seemed to wash over him like a wave and drag him into a dark abyss of an ocean he didn't understand. Something was pushed in his hand and his hand was raised to his lips. He drank whatever was in the cup because he thought maybe that would get everyone around him to be quiet and leave him alone. It didn't work.

They were asking him questions he couldn't answer because he couldn't focus long enough to hear the entire question. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the back of the chair and took deep breaths. By the time the feeling of motion, as if on a very unsteady boat, had passed, he could focus.

"Angel, when was the last time you ate?"

"I don't know." It was the truth, he really didn't know. He might have had toast this morning, but it could have been yesterday.

"Drink this." Wesley's voice was hardened and Angel didn't think he'd win a fight if he protested, so he did as he was told.

Gun looked to Will, who was standing there with a guarded look. Will knew something that the others didn't, Gunn realized. He wasn't as stricken as Wes or Gunn.

"You're going to lie down for a little while, and then we are all going to lunch together."

Angel barely managed to nod. He felt an overwhelming exhaustion and was asleep not long after his head hit the padded arm of the couch.

Gunn grabbed Wes and Will by the arm and dragged them into the hall none too gently. "What's going on?" He looked Will in the eye, almost daring him to lie.

"Low blood sugar, probably hasn't slept well in…oh, I don't know, half a decade, or so. And that struck a little to close to home."

"What does that mean?"

"Normally, he would have handled it. Maybe not well, but he could have handled it. In his state, lately, this knocked him on his ass."

Gunn knew when Will was trying to get around answering a question, but he was normally very good at it.

Sighing heavily, he motioned for Wes and Gunn to follow him down the hall to his office. Once inside and the door closed, Will sat down heavily.

"When Angel was a human, when he really was Liam O'Connor, he lived in Galway; he was a ne'er-do-well son of a textiles merchant. His old man was a drunk, and not a pleasant one. He knocked around Liam's mum in front of him. Liam didn't fair much better. Didn't you ever wonder why he was so hard nosed about the domestic cases? Why he won't compromise on those? Well, there's why."

The other two sat in stunned silence. Wesley had an idea of this life, but Gunn had never heard anything of it before.

Turning to face Will fully, Gunn finally found his tongue. "How do you know this?"

"Known him a lot lounger than the two of you put together. We used to drink until we couldn't see, carouse until we were too tired to walk, and kill until streets were paved in dried blood. I know a lot about him no one else knows. His tongue loosens a bit when he's under the sail."

"The straw on the proverbial camel's back." Wesley stood just as Fred burst into the room and slammed the door behind her.

"What the hell is going on? Was he drunk? And why didn't anyone call me? I have to find out from secretaries in the ladies bathroom?" She was fuming again, and Wes was not going to deal with this crisis now. He had too much to think about at the moment. Fortunately, Will took over explaining the situation.

After hearing the entire story, Fred stood at the window, contemplating the darkening city before her. Clouds were rolling in, threatening a heavy noon rain. "He needs help."

"What do you propose, love, an exorcism? Let him work it out. He stopped drinking; now he just has to fill that void. Hopefully some of that void will get filled with food and sleep."

"In the meantime, Will, I think he needs to take time off. He needs to go home, rest. Some recoup time would do the man some good," Gunn said.

Wesley had listened patiently until now. The last thing he wanted was Angel stuck in his house for an indefinite period of time. "Actually, I think maybe some time in the mountains could do him good. He should get away from the city. Distance from his responsibilities may be the best thing for him right now." He caught Fred's knowing stare, but she didn't reveal anything to the others. He loved her for good reason.

The door opened again, and the topic of their conversation was standing in the doorway. He looked at them, a mixture of shame and reproach on his features. "You can't send me away. I'm a person, you know. I think I have some say in if I leave or not." His voice was quiet, a calmer voice than they had heard in a long time, but the tinge of sadness was more pronounced now.

Fred was the first to fill the space before herself and Angel. She wrapped her arms around him. The surprise was obvious on his face, and he seemed to put his arms around her because he felt he had to. She didn't let go, though, and eventually obligation turned to something else. His eyes closed and his hold on her tightened.

He released a shaky breath from his chest, and Fred turned her head just a fraction of an inch so that her lips were right next to his ear. No one else in the room could hear what she said, because she said it low enough that only a being with super hearing who was inches away could hear her. "You're still my hero, Angel."

His shoulders slumped and his hold tightened on her. The pain in his chest expanded and exploded outwards, threatening to take him under the waves again. Breathing deep, he felt Fred start to pull away.

"You're too thin. You look like a skeleton. You've got to eat, and then you are going home and going to bed."

"I can eat at home. You guys can finish up here…"

"No. Are you anorexic? Please don't add that to the list of problems we've already got. Sit down, I'll order Chinese."

The smile she got from him was slight, but it was there all the same. She pointedly directed a shame-on-you look in Wesley's direction as she walked to the phone. Angel felt ashamed of showing such weakness in front of them. He looked at his shoes, trying to make his sluggish brain think of something to say. Will saved him the trouble.

"Sit the hell down, already. You make a depressing statue."

Gunn immediately started a conversation that had nothing to do with Angel or his personal life. Angel didn't contribute much, but he was able to be more than a depressing statue, at least, he thought. By the time the food was delivered, he felt almost like a real person again.