CHAPTER TEN

Well, contempt loves the silence
it thrives in the dark,
the fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart
They say that promises sweeten the blow
but I don't need them... no I don't need them.

My Skin - Natalie Merchant

Angel caught up with Kate and Buffy in the lobby. Willow was telling the detective something. "Kate, wait up."

Kate turned, her blond ponytail swinging. She looked incredibly tired. "Yes?"

"Take Buffy with you," he said, even though he suspected that was already in the works. "If Angelboy hurt this thing, you might need back up."

"Just until my partner and the crime scene unit gets there," Kate said. "I can't have civilians around after that."

"Let me get some weapons," Buffy said, touching Kate's arm for emphasis.

Angel closed the gap between Kate and him before Buffy could move. "Is he a suspect, Kate?"

"I can't say until I get out there, Angel. My gut says no or else he'd be in the jail infirmary right now going through withdrawal."

"Understood," Angel said, grimly.

"Are you sure he wouldn't be better off in jail?" Buffy looked from Kate to Angel and back again. "Or protective custody or something? If he didn't do this, and he's telling the truth then he's a witness. Shouldn't someone be looking out for him?"

"We can't put everyone in protective custody." Kate sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "And I certainly can't ask for a protective detail based on our theory there's a demon killing kids. We have to be his protective custody, and I do want you to try and keep him here until I come back. I will need to take a formal statement from him, and if I don't have to hunt him down, I'll be much happier."

"I'm worried about how much blood he's lost. Willow, shouldn't he go to the hospital?" Angel caught her shoulders gently.

"Sorry, Angel. You can't force someone to go to the hospital. It's against the law to treat a patient who refuses. If I try, I'm the one going to jail for assault and battery." Willow shot him an apologetic look. "I've done all I can for Angelboy. He's refusing further treatment. In fact, I'm going to go type up a chart for him stating that. It's not like I expect him to sue me later if complications set in, but he was a lawyer once. A doctor can't be too careful. I'm citing all of you as witnesses to his refuse in my notes."

Kate nodded her understanding and consent.

"Okay by me. Let me get my weapons, Kate and we can get out of here," Buffy said.

Angel watched them go before heading into the library with Willow on his heels. All he wanted to do was go back upstairs to check on his son. He knew Connor's wounds would heal but Connor was terrified out of his mind. Angel wanted to comfort him but he didn't know how to do it. He could see that his son was furious with him, as irrational as it might be.

"What are you going to do with him, Angel?" Giles asked as Angel flopped down numbly on the couch next to Cordelia and Xander.

Angel let his head fall back against the couch and Cordy patted his arm. Everyone was in the library at this point except for Joshua. Even Candelaria, one of the Watchers who lived in the hotel, the only one not currently away on assignment, was there. She looked irritated that she was the only one who didn't know what was going on. In his defense, Angel knew it was next to impossible to find Candelaria most of the time. She, along with Doyle's ex, Harry, were busy documenting the breeding habits of demons. Lorne's people were the current topic and Candelaria was reclusive when she got busy. Angel realized that he had no idea about Lorne's sexuality nor did he care to. If Lorne's heart was in his butt, Angel didn't even want to think about where his testicles - if his kind even had them - might be.

Angel studied their expectant faces. He wished he had valid answers for them. "I honestly don't know. He seems pretty convinced I have something to do with the murder of his friends."

"That's silly," Willow said.

"Not necessarily," Gunn said, and she looked over at him, surprised. "If Angel and I were the only two men to come by that house, it's reasonable to think we're the men the killer wanted."

"He could have been more polite to Angel," Fred said, leaning against her husband.

"Angelboy doesn't live in a polite world." Gunn kissed her cheek.

"And he is in shock," Angel said, placatingly. "And to answer your question, Giles, Angelboy can stay here if he needs to. I don't want to just put him out on the street, especially if he's right and our probe into this caused the deaths of his friends."

"Here?" Fred asked, looking towards the ceiling. Her forehead wrinkled. "Our families are here."

"I don't think he'll be any threat to Joshua. He was very concerned about the boy finding his drugs," Angel said. "And I doubt he'll be here long. He doesn't trust us."

"Not to mention our students are trying to murder the poor bastard," Robin added. Angel flinched. Seeing his son hurt, smelling his tainted blood, Angel had nearly forgotten about the Slayers who wanted to torture the young man to death.

Fred glanced around at her friends, gauging their expressions. "I guess for a few days it should be okay. It's not like we don't have dangers here on a normal day."

"Thanks, Fred," Angel said with more emotion than his friends were used to hearing. "Willow, do you think he'll be okay physically?"

Willow made that sharp little head bob he had long ago associated with her enthusiasm for life and things she cared about. "I should think so. The wounds were bloody but not deep. He'd be better off if we took him to the Watchers' hospital but like we just talked about, he didn't want to go. No surprise really, that trust thing, not to mention he's in shock."

"And he'll be wanting to fix," Lorelei said, glancing up from where she was rubbing Giles' shoulders. "That's his coping mechanism, and he was obviously jonesing."

"If he stays with us, is there anything else you might be able to do for him?" Angel hated himself for asking. It would only make his friends wonder why he cared so much for a stranger but he couldn't help it.

"Like what? I don't think he's looking to kick his habit," Lorelei said.

"I was thinking more like making sure his wounds don't get infected." Angel couldn't sit any longer so he dragged up to his feet. "Do you think that he could eat a little better if you gave him something? Are there pills that can help?"

"I could get him to drink protein supplements, maybe," Willow said, flipping her gaze between Lorelei and Angel. "I can try but we're putting the cart before the horse. I wouldn't be surprised if he's gone before noon."

"Good point. I don't want to try to keep him here if he doesn't want to stay. I definitely feel that Gunn and I should stay away from him if we can help it," Angel said, starting to pace again. "He'll probably relate better to Willow and Lorelei. Kate wants us to keep him here until she gets back from the crime scene."

"Tall order," Gunn said, leaning back and draping an arm around Fred's shoulders. "What do you want the rest of us to do?"

"Use your judgement," Angel said. "Giles, I'm assuming you, Lorelei and Robin will be talking to those two girls today."

"Yes, though we're still unsure of how we're going to handle this," Giles replied, rubbing his forehead.

"Understood. The rest of us have our usual work and we can all pitch in to see if we can point out a path to follow in our investigation. I'll be up in my suite for the next few hours," Angel said, casting a baleful eye at the sunshine that was just peeking over the horizon, colored blue by the stained glass window that dominated the library.

"Here, Angel." Xander hefted up some books. "Giles said these might be the place to start looking."

"Thanks." Angel collected the three books Xander had offered up from the pile.

"Angel, before you go, we do have some other news," Dawn said. "It kinda got lost in all the excitement."

Angel cradled the books. "Yes?"

"Oz got in touch with me," Willow said, obvious relief on her face. "He's in Nova Scotia trying to help a pack of werewolves learn to control their urges. He was nowhere near this." Her whole body relaxed as she said it, as if she had believed he might somehow be involved. "He doesn't know of any werewolves, outside of himself, who have enough mastery over their change that they could go all wolfy without the moon."

Angel mulled that over. "Okay, so it's probably not werewolves. We suspected as much but it's good to know. Anything else?"

"Wes called to check in. Cleveland's Hellmouth is being well, hellmouthy. Spike sprained his ankle," Dawn said, and Xander tried to smother a chuckle.

"Dare I ask how?" Angel couldn't help smirking.

"He and Faith were trying to get the ghost of a pissed off cadaver who I guess didn't think it was time to be dead out of the Ohio College of Podiatric Medicine, and the ghost knocked him down the stairs. I think Spike forgets he's human now," Dawn said, sounding slightly amused.

"Well, where better to have a sprained ankle than in a training center for foot doctors," Angel said. "Anything else?" He almost dreaded asking.

"Nope. Not even a vision from Cordelia," Dawn said, and Cordy pouted.

Angel just nodded and headed upstairs. He stopped by Connor's room on his way up to his suite. He heard faint sounds coming out of the room. At least his son was still there. However, the acrid smell leaking from around the door told him Connor was doing exactly what he didn't want him to; shooting up. Angel knew he couldn't prevent it, at least not at the moment but that didn't stop him from wanting to snatch Connor out of the room and bang him into a locked down rehab unit.

Instead, he headed to his rooms and worked on how futile it was trying to find a killer that chews on its prey. There were too many. Angel tossed himself into bed, trying to sort through his tangled thoughts, wishing he could have gone with Buffy and Kate, wishing he could wind back time again and save his child, wishing he had the courage to tell Buffy everything. For the first time in a long time he felt like Liam again, out of control and living down to everyone's low expectations.

X X X

Angelboy woke with the sun pouring into the room. As he crawled out from under the covers, he cursed himself for being a slugabed. It didn't matter that he had a good reason to stay curled up on the hard mattress, his injuries not withstanding. He was emotionally and physically drained. The bed had been too comfortable. He wanted to return to it but he had to find out if Tin Man and Darts had survived the night. Worse, what if by sending them to Anne's he had inadvertently led the murderer to more victims?

Angelboy went to relieve his screaming bladder and found Ratter had peed on the floor. He took care of his own needs, and then cleaned the mess. He caught his reflection in the mirrors as he scrubbed his hands in the hot water. Dark rings made him look like a raccoon. His long lank hair and scraggly beard only enhanced the image. Angelboy cast a longing glance at the shower but ignored his urges so he could examine his wounds.

He peeled the bandage off his cheek and examined the cuts that sliced through the lice-ridden hair on his face. They were puffy, weeping straw colored fluid. The four furrows over his belly seemed half-healed already, the edges red and puckered. All his injuries itched so he did what Willow told him to do; slopped triple antibiotic ointment onto gauze pads and taped them into place.

Angelboy stumbled out into the bedroom, looking for his clothing, and then remembered it was all gone. Cursing, he picked up the bed sheet and draped it around himself. He looked like a frat boy in a bright paisley toga. It was nauseating.

"Stay here, Ratter," he said, gently shutting the door behind him. When he got to the library, he felt more than a little exposed being in a makeshift toga in front of a roomful of strangers. It didn't help that they all stopped and stared. At least most of them were people he liked, Giles, Willow and Lorelei. He remembered being friends with Dawn, how much he had liked her then. Somehow he still felt close to her even though it had been years since he'd seen her. It was Buffy and Gunn he wasn't thrilled to see and Angel, whom he had taken a loathing to. He didn't know why but it was visceral. At least the cop wasn't there. Of course it was Angel who spoke to him first.

"Angelboy, how-"

"Don't talk to me," Angelboy snapped, stabbing a finger at him, nearly losing grip on his toga. "Unless you're going to tell me I just had one of my delusions and all my kids are okay. Of course me being delusional again wouldn't explain the chunks I'm missing out of my tummy and face and the blood all over the place and me being naked 'cause a cop took my clothes. Still, I'd be happy for this all to be part of the ongoing hallucination."

"Do you often have delusions this vivid and violent?" Lorelei asked, coming over to him, looking deep into his eyes.

He dropped his gaze, shifting from foot to long, slender foot. "Not often but there are times I see the demons, usually vampires. I see them all the time, hell, at least twice a week. Last night was the worst though. I saw people being killed. That's never happened before. In my real dreams it has but not in a delusion."

"I wish we could tell you it was a delusion." Regret weighed each and every one of Angel's words. "It would be better than the truth."

"My friends are all dead." Angelboy felt like he was about to go down for the count. He felt Lorelei's strong hand on his shoulder steadying him. He should have used his wake up dope but he didn't want to waste his time on the initial high which usually kept him fairly immobile. He had to get to Darts and Tin Man.

"Except for your friends who got to Anne's," Giles reminded him as Angelboy wandered away from Lorelei. "Kate called us to let us know they were okay, and they did agree to talk to the police."

"Really? Must be scared out of their minds. They're okay, though?" Angelboy swooped up on Giles, eager for news.

"Yes, quite. They told a very similar story to yours," Giles replied.

"Did I kill our attacker?" Angelboy's blue eyes gleamed with hope. "I hit her in the head hard a couple of times."

"There was only one girl's body there. From the picture Kate sent us, it was Misty," Buffy said, trying to be gentle. "You probably hurt your attacker but she isn't dead."

"Then why didn't she come after me? I was moving slow and leaving a trail anyone could have followed." Angelboy looked for a place to sit but he was too filthy for furniture so he flopped down on the throw rug.

"You could have knocked her out or stunned her," Willow offered.

"I didn't think...I can't remember clear." Angelboy shook his head, and then knifed his gaze at Angel. "What did you lead to my house?"

"I don't know. Maybe she knows we're investigating her, and she followed us to you." Angel spread his hands apologetically, decidedly unhappy at that. "But she has to be ahead of us since we have no clues as to who's doing this. If she hadn't come after us, we wouldn't even know it's a woman...if it even is."

"Why else would she show up on my doorstep so soon after you were there?" Angelboy ground a fist into the carpeting.

"You said she was really strong like she was on Angeldust. Could she have mistaken your place for a drug house?" Gunn asked.

"Maybe but I've never seen a junkie bite out throats and crush skulls." Angelboy shuddered, his toga slipping off his bony shoulders. "I've never seen anything like it."

"We didn't knowingly put you in danger," Angel said, taking a few steps towards Angelboy but stopped, getting another sharp look from him. "We came to your home to stop violence."

Angelboy snorted, knowing Angel had a point but he needed someone to blame. His gut told him he had chosen the right target. He watched Angel jump, wondering about it. What made this man so twitchy around him? "Speaking of that, when can I expect your students to show up and finish me off?"

"Not going to happen," Lorelei said. "I'm about to head to the school and I will deal with those girls. You have my word."

"I have his, too," Angelboy pointed at Angel. "I just have to figure out if I can trust either of you."

"You said you liked me," Lorelei reminded him.

"I do. It's him I don't trust." He nodded at Angel with his chin, his long hair swinging.

"Angel hasn't done anything to you," Willow pointed out, her crystalline eyes slotting.

Angelboy shrugged, pretending her gaze didn't make him nervous. "Sometimes you meet people and you know you're gonna like 'em. Others you see them and the warning bells go off in your head screaming 'bad news'." He turned from them. "I gotta see Darts and Tin Man."

"Kate is on her way here to talk to you," Buffy said. "She was planning to be here at one o'clock."

"You could call your friends," Angel offered. "We could take you to Anne's later if you want."

Angelboy's lips skinned back.

"Please, you want to help Kate find who did this, right?" Willow said, quickly. "If you stay here, you can help her."

"I'll call them." Angelboy kept up his glare at Angel but his tone softened in response to Willow.

"Good. Here's a phone," Dawn said, popping up to give him her cell phone. "And I have something for you." She went over to a table and picked up a box with a bag of cat food on top of it. "Let me get you a bowl."

"Disposal litter box? Food?" Angelboy's eyes narrowed. Why?"

"Because she has to eat and do her business, right?" Dawn replied, cheerily. "Come on, I'll walk up with you."

"I don't think Ratter's ever had either."

"Ratter?" Dawn smiled. "You call her Ratter?"

"It's what she does." He shoved his long hair out of his face. "She's good. She shares."

Dawn looked at him sideways. "You mean you and the kids...you eat..."

"Protein isn't it?" He shrugged.

"I guess." Dawn shot him a horrified look. "We're going to need to get you new clothes. You can't walk around like that."

"I hid my coat but it really needs washing."

"We didn't think you'd be up so early or we would have had clothing ready for you. Dawn can get you fixed up," Angel said.

"I think I have some old jogging pants you can have and a shirt. You're too thin for the men's clothing we have around here," Dawn said, trying to make him get up but he was still on the floor in a heap of paisley.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked as she loomed over him.

Dawn touched his bare shoulder, feeling how dry and dehydrated his skin was. "Because we were friends once. Because you need help."

His flesh twitched at her touch. "People don't just help without wanting something."

"Sure they do," she argued. "You help those kids, and you don't want anything, do you?"

"No, but we're alike, street people." His voice went steely. "Normal people walk across the street to avoid us. They don't help."

"Anne does," Willow reminded him.

"You can trust us, Angelboy. I know that isn't easy for you. All we want from you is to help as best you can to find this killer," Buffy said, trying not to sound exasperated.

Angelboy shrugged, getting up, nearly losing his grip on the toga. "We'll see. I don't know if Ratter will know what to do with this stuff." He took the litter and food from Dawn with one hand, cupping it to his sunken chest. "But thank you for thinking of her."

"You stopped to help your pet in the middle of all that crazy stuff." Dawn offered an encouraging smile. "The least I could do was get her some food."

"I appreciate it, and I'd be thankful for the clothes. I don't think the toga is doing much for me." He managed a weak grin.

"Angelboy, wait a moment," Willow said, getting up. "Let me have a look at the wounds."

"I just rebandaged them." He pouted.

"I'll be careful."

He stood still as she peeled back the dressings, eyeballed the wounds and resealed the tape to his skin. "They look good, really good," Willow said.

"I thought they looked red and ugly," he said.

"That's to be expected," Willow replied. "They're fine. Later, I'll give you a more complete physical."

He nodded and followed Dawn upstairs. She stopped at her room and found him a pair of jogging pants spattered with paint and a shirt in the same condition. "Sorry, these are my art-making clothes. They're a little messy," she said, heading for his room.

"Better than a bed sheet," he said.

"Yes, you are a little lost in there, aren't you?" Her blue eyes twinkled.

"A little, and I'm fairly sure no one wants to see me naked." His lips split in a wide, almost maniacal smile.

"Maybe not but you do have an air of pathos around you." Dawn took a long appraisal of him. "If things weren't so crazy right now, and you in such a terrible place losing your friends, I'd want to make art out of you."

He wondered if she meant it or it this was some kind of weird come on. He figured it had to be the former. No one would be attracted to what was left of him. "Been a long time since someone said that about me. Haven used to like to use me as a model." Connor thought for a moment, and then added, "So did you for that matter, I guess. I'm not sure I want to see the art you made from me back then. It would be too sad." He went into his room. Ratter meowed imperiously at him.

Dawn scowled. "I forgot the bowl for Ratter."

Angelboy shrugged and went into the bathroom, and then poured a line of food on the floor. He pulled the lid off the litter box and wedged it between the tub and toilet. "She'll live."

"I should get back down there for the brainstorming. You'll want privacy to call your friends," Dawn said.

"Thanks. What time is it?"

"About eleven. You have a couple hours before Kate gets here," Dawn said. "And Angelboy, I'm very sorry about your friends."

"Thanks."

He watched her go before slipping into her clothing. Sadly, it fit him well, if not a bit long in the sleeves and legs. He called the shelter as he stood on the dresser. He pushed up a ceiling tile and removed his heroin kit from where he had hidden it. "Hello, is Anne there? Tell her this is Angelboy, please."

As he prepared his heroin, a small amount, just enough to take off his edge but not enough to really send him on a heavy nod, he spoke first to Anne to thank her for watching out for his kids. He spoke to Tin Man and Darts, listening to them cry as he fired heroin into his veins. He cried with them and made them promise to wait there for him. He couldn't talk to them long. It was too agonizing. He set the cell phone on his borrowed bed and went outside into the hall. He listened at the head of the stairs. They all appeared to be in the library still. He heard Joshua playing in the lobby.

Angelboy had to explore. He had to know if Hotel California was the one from his dreams. He wasn't sure if he could sneak past them into the basement to see if there was a cage so he went upstairs to see if anything else resonated in him as part of his delusion come to life. He found himself in the penthouse suite. The door to it wasn't locked so he opened it. He could smell Buffy's sweet perfume wafting out, something that reminded him of cotton candy. It made him want to eat her up, and he didn't even like blondes. He recognized the musky scent as Angel's. He stood in the doorway, wondering who had the exquisite taste. Knowing he shouldn't go in, he decided that Angel had cost him his home, his friends' lives so he had no right to bar Angelboy from doing whatever the hell it was he wanted to do.

He went inside. To his right was an entertainment center with a large plasma screen TV surrounded on either side by wooden columns that were actually cd and DVD holders. To his left was a colonial U-shaped bench in front of what had to be a salt water in-the-wall aquarium that was several feet long. Only salt water fish had that much festive color.

Angelboy went in and sat on the Corinthian leather sofa. He pressed his face against it, drinking in the smell of leather mixed with Buffy and Angel's scents. The leather was like butter and he didn't want to get up. He picked up a remote off a glass tabletop - set on a base of wrought iron dogwoods so realistic he thought he could bend down and smell the blossoms and listen to the bronze birds twitter - and turned on the TV. Leaning on the arm of the couch he glanced over at the leather love seat and at the Japanese Koramu lamp between them. Their simple square shapes, the Asian aesthetic appealed to him and he had Haven to thank for that. She had taught him all about Asian art. The warm walnut framing the bamboo textured creamy shade made him miss her suddenly.

On the table was a glass ecosphere with tiny brine fish living out their ephemeral lives in a globe of water for the amusement of Angel. Of that, Angelboy had no doubt. This room was too orderly, too structured for Buffy. She was more full of life, ebullient and spontaneous, or at least that was how he saw her.

Angelboy got up and went to the fireplace not far from the entertainment system. It had a splendid beveled glass fireplace screen in front of it mixing panes of clear and frosted glass in a floral pattern. To one side of the fireplace bundles of iron reeds, sheathing pillar candles smelling of sandalwood, shielded the firewood holder from sight. He turned and headed to the aquarium. An octopus oozed out from behind some rocks and surfaced. Angelboy watched the jeweled fish dart out of its way. It squirted water at him.

"Oh, you have to be that asshole's," Angelboy said, wiping salt water from his face. Between the aquarium wall and the wall of books that ran behind a bar, a French door led out onto a porch. Angelboy went out, letting the sun bake his cool skin. Weak from blood loss, he had felt chilled since he was nearly gutted. This helped. He studied the wooden saan chao te, the Thai Spirit House birdfeeder that hung from the eaves, enjoying its rolling lines, and then went back in.

The bar was well stocked, the bottles hidden from sight behind the bar. At one corner, by a stool, sat a wooden Chinese vegetable basket and silk Buddhist prayer flags were draped above the bar. What had Haven said they were for? Carrying compassion to the four directions and returning blessings. He tapped the tiny brass bells that hung between the flags.

Behind the bar were shelves of books, and booze and glasses. Angelboy helped himself to the single malt scotch, thirty year old Glenfidditch. As he let the amber liquid pass his lips - to mingle in his body dangerously with the heroin - he studied the serenity chimes at one end of the bar. He picked up the rosewood box and turned it over, shaking the hundreds of tiny steel beads inside to the top, and then turned it over setting it back on the bar. The beads slowly fell in random, melodic patterns, sometimes striking the bells alone or in chords. He would like one of these to go to sleep by.

On the other of the bar was a perpetual calendar by Gideon Dagan. He had seen its roundish original in the Museum of Modern Art. Haven would have loved this place. He hadn't realized she had had such a profound effect on him. Taking his Glenfidditch for a walk, Angelboy heading for the hallway. At the doorway was a misty picture of woodlands on one said and Kanji lettering on the other. Too bad after all the anime he had watched, he still didn't know how to read the language.

He wandered down the hall to the far end of the suite. He eyed the Jacuzzi greedily. He didn't dare with the open wounds but he wanted to. He headed back to one of the rooms he bypassed, the bedroom. This was Buffy's refuge. It was bright and cheery and the huge king sized bed was calling his name. Screw 'em both. If they had left me alone, my kids would still be alive. Angelboy stripped and got under the covers. He set the clock so he could have an hour nap. He might get caught but he didn't really care. He snuggled down and looked at the wall sculpture on the opposite wall. This was Angel's addition to the room. Simple square lines yet again with nine cups holding oversized tea lights like falling rain drops captured in steel.

He took his nap sans interruption, and then tore off his dressings and got in the shower. The honeysuckle body-wash woke him up, made him hungry for sweets. He toweled off just barely and headed into the living room. He tossed his damp, naked body on the leather sofa and pitched the towel on the love seat. Angelboy turned on country music television just because he sensed it would drive Angel nuts when he saw it.

After he was done wallowing around, fucking the place up as much as he could, including stuffing peanut butter into him, leaving the dead jar on the bar, he went to throw up the too-rich food. He flushed it away but leaving it for Angel to find was tempting. He dressed and headed back down to his room to get more dressings for his wounds. He gave Ratter a pat, picked up Dawn's cell phone and went downstairs.

Kate was waiting for him. "There you are. We were just looking for you. You weren't in your room."

"I was exploring." He twisted his damp hair, wishing he had a tie-back for it.

"Exploring?" Buffy asked, shooting Angel a worried look. Angel's eyes were like marbles.

"Exploring. I don't want to talk here, Kate. I'll tell you whatever you want to know on the way to Anne's. Can we do it that way?" Angelboy asked.

"Only if you're willing to talk on tape," Kate said.

Angelboy looked at Buffy and Angel, and realized what kind of hell he'd catch when they found out he had flopped in their suite. He knew he'd be better off elsewhere. "I can do that."

"Deal. Let's go," Kate said, and Angelboy followed her willingly.

X X X

Buffy wheeled on Angel. "He was exploring. And his hair was wet. Why was his hair wet?"

Angel winced. "He has a shower in his room...but maybe we should check that out. The rest of you just keep at the research."

Angel motioned Buffy to follow. He tracked his son right to his own door. He dreaded opening it. He could hear the music thumping out of the room. It was something Lindsey would dance to. Buffy shoved him aside and went in. He heard her breath catch and braced himself for a beating.

"He was in here, Angel. Your filthy junkie was in here." The pitch of her voice could make ears bleed. "You could have let Kate take him in last night but oh no, you had to give him a room."

"He was hurt, Buffy." He captured her shoulders soothingly. Buffy jerked away.

"And he could have gone to the hospital." She went in and screamed. "There's butt prints on the couch!"

Angel looked in horror at that as he snatched the wet towel off his precious leather love seat. How many times had he yelled at Buffy and Cordelia for putting wet stuff on his leather furniture? Dawn and Willow were just as bad and now there were definite butt prints on the couch. Buffy had already moved on to the empty peanut butter jar. He looked at the Glenfidditch bottle on the bar, leaving sticky rings of wasted scotch.

Buffy disappeared from view but he could easily find her by the shriek. He went into the bedroom. Buffy had one arm outstretched, pointing. Angel saw the rumpled sheets and knew he was dead, deader than he already was. "He was in my bed, Angel. That flea-bitten, lice-infested creep was in my bed. I don't care what he knows or who's after him, he can't stay here. Protective police custody is good enough."

"No, it's not," he said weakly.

"Lice in my bed, Angel," she said. She was so calm Angel knew he was standing in the eye of the hurricane. "He was in my shower. It smells like puke in there. I don't care what arrangements you have to make to keep him safe, as if that were possible. He's his own worst enemy, just get him out of here."

"No, he's not going," Angel said more strongly.

Buffy stared at him, not expecting his defensiveness, and then reached for the phone. "Fine, I'll call Kate myself and arrange it."

He caught her arm, jerking her away hard. Buffy pulled free, her mouth open, stunned at his violent response. He caught hold of her again, more gently this time. "Please, Buffy. I can't explain but I have to keep him here. He's our responsibility. Our Slayers are out to torture him to death." Pain radiated over her face at that, and he thought he was winning her back to his side. "We may have led a demon to him. He doesn't belong in jail. He belongs somewhere where he can get treatment. I'm not turning him out, and I'm not letting anyone else do it, understood?" Angel watched her eyes go to dual chips of ice and realized he pushed too far.

Buffy stared at him for a long moment, and then shoved him back. "Fine. Clean this place up. Burn the sheets, the towels, whatever else he touched that can be burned. And then, and only then I'll decide if I'm still speaking to you."

Angel listened to her slam her way out of their home. With tears in his eyes, he started to clean.