Awakening

Part One

BAM! The vision pain slammed into Doyle's mind and his whole body convulsed, on the bed. He brought his hand up to his brow - as if trying to ease the pressure. The images he saw were like something out of hell. There was a literal devil, there: a giant demon that seemed to be made of magma - with twisting horns and goat's hooves. And it was stood in the middle of a field - a battlefield - no wait, a massacre. Hundreds of dead bodies that this demon had just ripped apart. It was talking to someone. 'Our strength is useless divided, join with me, Angelus'. There was a flash and Doyle caught a glimpse of Angel, with long hair and dressed like it was the olden days. Not Angel. Angelus. And then the pain subsided.

He sat up in bed, gasping. This was … he frowned, this was the first vision he'd had in months. The first since his birthday. He'd been so worried - thinking The Powers had turned their back on him, but now this vision had landed out of the blue - as if there had never been any pause to them. He needed to ring Angel, he supposed. Normally - when he was faking a vision - he rang Wes, Wes was his boss now. But it had been Angel in the vision. And that demon thing … Doyle didn't fancy his and Wes' chances against something that monstrous. Not even if they had the Groosalug with them.

He reached out for his cell phone. It was pitch black outside, he just hoped Angel would be up late. He got out of bed, as he began to dial - and then stopped - looking down in confusion. He was naked. He never went to bed naked - why was he…? He frowned even deeper, as something else occurred to him. Not only did he have no recollection of taking his clothes off before bed, he had no recollection of going to bed at all. Of being back at the motel, full stop. He remembered… he struggled to think… he remembered the spell. That was it. He remembered it going wrong - and them all thinking they were teenagers again, and fighting Angel and Fred waking him up, after his neck was snapped.

Whatever they were into back there must have been bad juju… because it had clearly wiped the intervening hours from his… Cordelia! Was she fixed? Had the spell worked, was she OK? He flipped his cell open - ready to dial - not caring if Angel was sleeping. The vision paled in comparison to the importance of knowing if his Cordy was OK. What he saw made him pause, once more. The clock on the screen was telling him it was half past eight in the morning. He twisted to look out of the window - it was pitch black outside. The time must be wrong … he crossed the room to check his alarm clock, stumbling over the puddle of his divested clothes, as he went. He briefly wondered how come he had stripped them all off and thrown them on the floor like that. Spell hangover making him act loopy, he supposed.

He looked at the alarm clock - his brow was now furrowed into a deep crease of confusion. The alarm said the same time as his phone. 'I'm puttin' some pants on,' he muttered to himself, 'I can't think without my pants on.' He grabbed his underwear from out of the pile on the floor and stepped into them. A moment later - he grabbed his tanktop and wriggled into that as well. Once decent, he sat on the bed and switched the bedside lamp on. 'Right - what's happenin'?' he said, under his breath. He picked his watch up off the table. It too said half eight - though that could be at night time he supposed - it was a proper clock face and AM and PM were not indicated. He peered out of the window again. It was properly dark outside - pitch black, in fact. 'Huh...'

He decided to try and shed some light on the … no light situation by switching on the television. Maybe at least the news would give him an accurate time - even if it didn't explain why all the clocks had stopped, or possibly why the sun had disappeared.

'Officials from the national weather service remain baffled as to the cause of this strange phenomenon,' the newsreader was saying - as the T.V sprang into life. 'All reports agree that, at mid afternoon yesterday, what meteorologists are calling a 'localised abnormality' caused darkness across the entire wider Los Angeles area.'

'Huh…' Doyle said again, watching.

'It seems outlying areas remain unaffected,' the news reader said, 'but, for now, the sun over Los Angeles has, for all intents and purposes, been blotted out from the sky.'

'So how did that happen?' Doyle wondered - leaning closer towards the television - as if he really thought the newsreader could explain it to him. That was when he noticed the date and time in the corner of the screen. The time backed up what all his own clocks were saying. It was the morning - way after the hour of sunrise. But it was the date that was now troubling him. 'What?' he breathed, staring at it. The last he remembered - they had been doing the spell at the hotel - though he had no recollection of them finishing it and him coming home - but, if the television was accurate, that had been weeks ago. If this date was right, it wasn't just the journey home that was blocked from his memory… but the past month or so.

This was … he didn't know what this was. But he knew he needed to go and see Angel. He pulled on the rest of his clothes, grabbed his best fighting axe and headed out into the city.

The television was on at the hotel as well. 'The mayor's office has scheduled a news conference for six o'clock this evening,' the news reader was saying, 'regarding this bizarre development and what it might mean for the city.'

'I know what it means,' Gunn said, switching the screen off, 'it means that soon vamps everywhere will realise that this town is open for business 24/7, there's gonna be a huge rise in undead tourism.'

Cordelia sighed, 'we gotta find a way to bring back the sun,' she said.

Over by the counter, Wesley and Fred were poring over the books - but they were sorry to say that they were not getting anywhere. The symbols were taking forever to decipher and - as ever - there was nothing to be seen about The Beast.

Angel sat on the round sofa, Connor in his arms. 'We just gotta find a different way to work this,' he told them. 'The Beast - whatever he is, wherever he came from - it seems nobody ever bothered to record it. Sorry Wes, but the books are not our friend on this one. We've only got one clue...'

'The answer is among you,' Gunn repeated the phrase.

'Exactly - now, we've been working on the assumption that that piece of cryptic was about Kali.' He nodded at the demon woman who was sat on the red sofa across from him. The Groosalug was with her, and he had his sword unsheathed and raised.

'The Beast follows her around wherever she goes and … let's face it … we know Armageddon is in her future because Lorne read it,' Angel continued. 'But when we just faced it…'

'It was talking to you,' Cordelia said. 'It spoke to you - like it knew you.'

'Yeah … but… I don't know The Beast. Big rock like that? I'd remember it.'

Cordelia bit her lip and looked downward, she didn't say anything. Angel looked around at the team, 'you do all believe me, right? I don't know anything. I don't know The Beast. If the answers are with me … I'm as lost as the rest of you.'

There was a very pregnant silence for a moment - and then Fred took pity on him and broke it. 'Of course we believe you, Angel. We absolutely believe that you're not willingly or knowingly helping The Beast.'

'Willingly or knowingly?' he repeated.

'There's a chance - slender perhaps - that you're being used,' Wesley told him. 'A puppet. Being manipulated to act for The Beast, without being consciously aware.'

'No - not a chance,' Angel said, shaking his head in vehement disagreement.

'But how would you know?' Wesley argued, 'that's the whole point of it being - well - unconscious.'

'And let's face it, man,' Gunn added, 'someone did a whole world of nasty on Manny back at electro-Gwen's place… right around the time you were supposed to be guarding him.'

'But I was with Cordelia the whole time,' Angel protested, 'wasn't I, Cordy? We didn't move for four hours straight and somehow Manny got killed, but it couldn't have been by me because I was the other side of a solid steel door… with witnesses … and cameras. Couldn't have been me. Tell 'em Cordy.'

Cordelia had been sat by herself, very quiet, staring down at her hands. She looked up, when she heard her name - looking startled for a moment - and then shook her head, 'uh -no - I...I don't think it's Angel doing these things.'

'See,' Angel grinned - pleased to have been backed up. But Cordelia did not smile back. She went back to looking at her hands.

'Couldn't Lorne read him?' Fred suggested, 'check to see if he knows anything - buried deep. Maybe his aura is...'

'My aura knows nothing, either,' Angel interrupted, 'and I'm not gonna sing.'

'Thank God for that,' Gunn muttered. Angel threw him a dirty look.

'Maybe we're headed down the wrong path,' Kali said, from her place on the couch. She was still bruised from her encounter with The Beast - and it must have left her unnerved, because she was sitting ever so close to the Groosalug, as if frightened of losing his protection. 'Maybe all this is just a distraction or…'

'Maybe Kali could sing again?' Gunn suggested, 'kinder on the ear drums than our boy doin' it… and she's connected to magma man, as well.' But Kali looked startled and began to shake her head. 'No way - my singing for my destiny days are over. When you drop a tune and the psychic flees the room, you know you're bad. Maybe Angel is a safer bet, after all. It was him The Beast spoke to.'

Lorne sighed. He had - as always - a SeaBreeze, in his hand, and was leaning against the office door, listening carefully to the conversation as it went round in circles. 'Well if I can't avoid it, I can't avoid it,' he said, 'c'mon Angel cakes, let's hop into the office - give you some privacy whilst you strangle Mr. Manilow.'

Angel looked around at the others, 'I've really go to…?' They all nodded at him - except for the Groosalug, who remained stock still beside Kali - weapon raised, and Cordelia - who was still silently staring downward. The vampire sighed. He got to his feet, handed Connor to Gunn and then followed Lorne into the office. They closed the door behind them - but they were still visible through the window.

'What do you reckon he's gonna sing?' Gunn asked. Wesley looked up from his books, 'five bucks on 'can't smile without you'.' They smiled at each other, for a brief moment. For just a second it was like the old days - the team in Caritas waiting for Angel to sing Karaoke… but then Gunn glanced at Fred, stood close beside Wesley, and Wesley looked at the baby held in Gunn's arms - and the smiles slid off their faces, as the intervening years crashed down between them.

Inside the office, Lorne sat slumped in a chair - as Angel got into his groove. Lord let his groove not last too long!

'That's the night that the lights went out in Georgia That's the night that they hung an innocent man Well don't trust your soul to no back woods Southern lawyer 'Cause the judge in the town's got bloodstains on his hands,' Angel sang - flat and completely out of tune … but his aura was clean. There was nothing there that Lorne could read, no link to The Beast, or to the rain of fire, or to the blotted out sun. 'OK, that's great, big guy,' he said, cutting the vampire off before he launched into the second verse, 'I got nothing.'

'You didn't see anything?'

'You're not connected to The Beast, that I can see … though your choice of song might be throwing me off. Not really feeling the Vicki Lawrence love.'

'So I'm in the clear? Ha! I knew it - go tell the others.'

Lorne got out of his chair and left the office; Angel on his heels, looking smug; and conveyed the news to the rest of the team.

'Well, if Angel's aura is clear and he has an alibi for Manny's murder,' Wesley said, when he heard the news, 'then we're going to need another clue before we…'

...

The front door burst open and Doyle came barrelling through, axe in hand. 'Angel, man, it's mad out there,' he said, without stopping to say hello, 'did you know the sun has disappeared completely from the sky? People are goin' nuts!'

'Where the hell you been, man?' Gunn said - but Doyle didn't hear the sarcasm in his voice, and just took it as a straight question. 'I'm honestly not sure. My mind's a blank for weeks now. I just woke up at the hotel to find the sun gone. But - Angel, man, I had a vision.'

'A vision?' It was Wesley who spoke, he closed his book and looked at the half demon, keenly. The Powers had been awfully quiet about this whole thing. But now it seemed like they were stepping up and finally getting involved. This could be the clue that they had so desperately needed.

'Yep,' Doyle nodded, 'but it was… like a flashback- a rerun. It was somethin' that has happened not somethin' that's gonna happen. I don't get those too often - the last one like that was with that Billy guy. It means that - whatever this is - it's big and The Powers want it fixin' … and possibly that they blame me.' He frowned, as he remembered why he had been made to see that lady get killed by her own husband, over a year ago, now.

'So what did you see?' Angel asked him, he folded his arms and looked expectant. Doyle swallowed, hard. 'Well - there was a - a massacre - a ton of dead bodies, just lyin' there - ripped to shreds, like. And - well…' he swallowed again, 'well, you were there, man.'

'Why was I at a massacre?'

'Well it wasn't you, bud.'

'It was me but it wasn't me - what's with the cryptic, Doyle?'

The Irishman looked uncomfortable. 'Well it was… was…'

'Angelus,' Cordelia finished, her voice soft. She looked up. Doyle glanced across at her - and when their eyes met, he broke into a broad smile, 'hey - you got your memory back - the spell did fix y'! You're you again, right?'

'Doyle, did you get hit in the head?' Fred asked him, frowning, 'Cordelia's been Cordelia for weeks now. You know that.'

'I do?' He shook his head, 'well - I must have been doin' some pretty heavy duty drinkin' recently, 'cause, like I tell y'... I'm missin' weeks, total black out from the spell until I woke up this mornin'. Anyway - in my vision, Angelus was talkin' to someone - thing - well, it was talkin' to him.'

'What was it?' Wesley's voice was sharp.

'Hell if I know. Big guy - looked like he was made of a walking volcano - with devil's horns and hooves. Scary lookin' fella, let me tell y'.'

'The Beast,' Wesley said.

'Did we ever think it was gonna be anyone different?' Gunn replied. Wesley ignored him.

'What did it say?' Angel asked. Doyle swallowed again - and tried to remember the exact words the monstrous demon had spoken. 'Um somethin' about … your strength being useless divided and that you - Angelus, I mean - should join with him.'

'That was the offer The Beast spoke of back at the motel,' Wesley surmised, 'when he said he'd told you before that you need not be enemies … you already met The Beast - as Angelus - he's already asked you to work with him.'

'But that's not possible,' Angel protested, 'I remember everything Angelus did - I did - every family butchered, every child slaughtered, every throat ripped out - I remember every detail of it. How could I not remember a giant magma demon with goat legs?'

'There seems to be a lot of the not rememberin' goin' around, bud. I'm kinda sensin' a theme.'

Kali suddenly leaned forward and spoke to Doyle, 'you really don't remember anything of the past couple of weeks?' she asked the half demon.

'Nope.'

'Anything?' She raised an eyebrow, 'you don't remember last night?'. But he looked nonplussed and just shook his head, 'why would I lie?'

She shrugged and sat back again, staying close within the circle of the Groosalug's protection.

Wesley was frowning, his mind was ticking over as he tried to work out the problem set before him. 'There's nothing in the books to help,' he said, 'the only thing we know is that 'the answer is among us' - and now The Powers have sent us a message to tell us, this isn't about Kali, it isn't even about Angel…'

'It's about Angelus,' Cordelia said - her voice was barely more than a whisper. She looked up as she spoke, caught Angel's eye and then looked back down again. She had known this since last night, since The Beast had used Angel's other name - it had made immediate sense to her, though the others hadn't cottoned on to its significance. But then - none of them had ever met Angelus - and none of them were trying to form a meaningful romantic relationship with Angel. It just didn't cut as close for them.

'No way…' Angel started to protest, but Wesley cut him off. 'If we are to have any chance of defeating The Beast then we have no choice. We need Angelus.'

Gunn and Fred stood at the counter, the lobby had emptied out. Angel and Cordelia had gone outside, into the garden. Wesley had disappeared - and no one knew where to. Kali and Groo were talking quietly, over on the red sofa - the young couple couldn't hear what they were saying.

Fred sighed and closed up her books. 'You giving up?' he asked her. She shrugged, 'there's nothing in them. I don't understand the symbols, myself. I need Wesley.' He raised his eyebrow at her, and she sighed again. 'I need his expertise,' she told her boyfriend, 'I can't do this alone.'

'Seems like there's a lot you can't do without Wesley,' Gunn commented. His voice was bitter.

'Charles - please. Can we not?' she asked, 'are things not bad enough as they are without us fighting? We need to work this.'

'You're the one closing up the books.'

'There's nothing in them. We need - we just need to … somehow …' she took a deep breath, 'there's nothing we can do until we can access Angelus.'

'Yeah - and how we gonna do that?'

'It's gonna be a lot easier said than done, bud,' Doyle chimed in. He was sat on the round sofa, alone, his axe lay beside him on the seat and he was shuffling his playing cards. But when he spoke he pocketed the cards and went to join the other two, by the desk. 'Angelus - the demon - lives inside our boy all the time,' Doyle explained to them. 'Angel is the prison that the soulless monster he really is, is kept in. But the gypsies who cursed him - they locked him down tight.' He whistled through his teeth.

'The moment of perfect happiness?' Fred asked. Doyle nodded. As the three of them spoke, Lorne came out of the office and began to listen in. 'for the longest time, we all thought 'perfect happiness' was a euphemism for just common or garden old sex,' Doyle explained.

'Because that's how it happened last time,' Gunn checked, 'with Buffy?'

Doyle nodded. 'But that theory got blown outta the water a couple o' years ago.'

'The night with Darla,' the street fighter nodded, remembering that crazy time, when Angel had been out in the cold - hunting his vampire women and wreaking bloody vengeance on Wolfram and Hart; Doyle had been awaiting trial for bank robbery and grand theft auto and himself, Wesley and Cordelia had simply been trying to hold everything together.

One night - cold and alone - Angel had succumbed to temptation and slept with Darla. When he failed to lose his soul he had had an epiphany - realising he wanted his family back. But no action was without consequence and that one night with Darla had led to Connor - and everything that had happened last year. That night was, ultimately, the reason Wes and Doyle were no longer really part of the family.

'Yeah,' Doyle was saying, agreeing with Gunn, 'turns out Angel can have sex whenever he wants - as long he remembers to brood a little bit, afterwards. It just happened to be what triggered it last time. But really 'perfect happiness' is a feeling of utter contentment - and acceptance. A moment when the weight of his soul, his guilty conscience, no longer plagues him. But … there's no shortcut to that.'

'And happiness?' Lorne said, sipping his SeaBreeze, he shook his head as he spoke, 'of any kind - never mind the perfect sort - that's in pretty short supply around these parts, right now.'

'So…' Fred turned to gaze through the doors - out to where Angel and Cordy were sitting and talking, quietly, 'without a way to trigger his curse, there's no way to bring back Angelus?'

The robed figure knelt in his prayer circle and cast the animal bones. Once they had scattered, he lowered his forehead to the ground and began to chant. Beyond his chamber, in the next room, he could hear the sounds of a fight taking place; people stumbling, being thrown around and the sound of furniture breaking. A man was thrown through the doorway and landed just in front of the praying man - unconscious. The praying man looked up.

Wesley entered the room, wiping the blood from his knuckles. He stared down at the figure in the prayer circle, adorned in long, purple robes with only his eyes left exposed. 'Rumour has it you possess certain skills I require,' the watcher said to the man. The man stared up at him. 'I need a soul extracted.'

'You know this can't be right,' Angel said. He and Cordelia were sat on the edge of the fountain, their heads were together and they were holding hands.

'I know… I know that Beast spoke to you like he knew you,' Cordelia murmured, 'and I know it isn't you he knows, it's Angelus. He doesn't know you and you don't him. You don't have the answers we're looking for.'

'But... you think Angelus might?'

'Doesn't matter,' she looked up and pressed her lips against Angel's, 'he's not here, and we're not bringing him here. There's no way - and even if we could...'

'It would be the worst of all possible worlds.'

'Exactly. The others don't know. They've never seen him - Angelus - but I remember. I remember dead fish and creepy drawings left on pillows and Miss Calendar…'

Angel pulled away from her - looking pained, but she reached out and touched his face, gently, making him look at her again. 'And I remember absolutely that he is not you. If Angelus is here - then you're gone - you can't protect anybody; not from The Beast - and not from Angelus. Whatever answers Angelus might know … we can do without them.' She kissed him, again, 'it's more important that the Powers of good keep their champion.'

'The others might disagree.' He said, sounding troubled, 'might try to…'

'I won't let them,' she kissed him one final time, 'I won't let them.'

The front doors opened, and the gathered team turned to stare, as Wesley returned - accompanied by a mystic, covered head to toe in purple robes. 'Where's Angel?' Wesley asked, 'I've found a solution.'

'No way.' Angel was in the office with Wesley - and they had been arguing for ten minutes, straight. 'Wo Pang is a shaman,' Wesley explained to him, 'order of the Kun-sun-Dai.'

'A dark mystic? You brought a dark mystic into the hotel without telling me?'

'Claims he can extract souls.'

'Claims?'

'And more importantly - he can restore them.'

'Doesn't matter,' Angel said, his arms were folded across his chest, defensively and he was shaking his head, 'we're not bringing Angelus.'

'Princess?'

Cordelia turned - and saw Doyle stood beside her, looking awkward and hesitant. He held out a cup, 'I brought you a coffee,' he said to her. She took it from him, 'you're calling me 'Princess' again?'

'Sorry,' he said, shuffling his feet, 'I know I'm not supposed to - anymore - just… habit, I guess.'

She wrinkled her forehead, 'no - I mean …' she shook her head, 'I guess it doesn't matter, not in the grand scheme of things. Not with what's going on, tonight.'

'Listen … about this whole shaman thing. I think Wesley knows what he's doin'... I think this could be a safe way to, y'know, find out what we need and then get Angel right back.'

'And what if it isn't?' She asked him, 'what if we end up with Angelus on the loose - do you have any idea what that's like?'

'Well … I mean there was that one time, years ago - with the happy pills,' Doyle reminded her, 'I think me and Wes got a taster. But - we bested him then and we can do again.'

'We were a team, back then,' Cordelia reminded him, 'a loyal little family unit. Angelus couldn't get in between us and we were stronger together than he was by himself. But now …'

'Now, I've ruined everythin',' Doyle said, hanging his head. She looked at him. 'Now everything is different,' she clarified, 'but I don't think there's much use to be had in playing the blame game.' He looked up at her - surprised.

'You don't have a choice, Angel,' Wesley told him. His voice was sharp - impatient. It was only midday, but the eternal blackness made it feel like midnight, made him tired. They needed to sort this; before the vampires came to town; before all the plants and the flowers died; before the people gave way to desperation. This situation needed sorting. And Angelus was their best chance of doing exactly that. But the difficulty was in making Angel realise this. 'Don't make this harder than it needs to be,' Wesley pleaded, 'there's no plan B and we're running out of time. People are in serious danger.'

'And how much more danger will they be in if we unleash Angelus on the world, huh?'

'We'll take every precaution,' the watcher assured him, 'Angel…'

'My son is in this hotel,' Angel said. He put his hands on the desk and leaned on it. 'You got any idea of what Angelus will do to my son? The delight he'll take in being the one to kill my child - to cause me that hurt, that guilt?'

A tremor ran across Wesley's face. 'I will protect Connor with my life,' he said to Angel. 'Protecting you and Connor was all I ever cared about doing, it's why…'

'The father will kill the son,' Angel said. Wesley looked pained. 'That prophecy was false,' he replied, trying to keep his voice calm. 'Doyle and I were mistaken. We very much regret…'

'You betrayed me,' Angel's voice was deadly quiet, 'abandoned this family, stole Connor, put us all through hell … and you did it to keep my child safe. You did it to stop me from being the thing that killed him. To keep me from that pain and hurt. I get it Wes, I do. I understand exactly why you did what you did. So I'm sure you can see that it comes as a bit of a surprise to me that you're now advocating bringing out the one thing that can make that false prophecy a reality. I won't do it. Get rid of the shaman.' He left the office and slammed the door behind him.

...

The rest of the team were out in the lobby - staring at him - when he got there, so he turned and stormed back out into the garden.

Wesley followed him out of the office, more slowly. He looked at the team, wearily. 'He needs to be convinced,' he said, 'Cordelia…'

'No.' Cordelia shook her head. 'No. I'm not going to try and convince him to bring back Angelus. Never.'

...

Out in the garden - alone - Angel listened in to the group discussion, his vampire's hearing allowing him to catch every last word.

...

'He's afraid,' Wesley was saying.

'With good reason!' Cordelia retorted.

'I am confident that we can manage the situation. That we can contain Angelus and then restore his soul. It could take less than a day.'

'You really think it could be that quick?' Gunn asked. Wesley nodded, 'Wo Pang can remove his soul - store it - and return it. Angelus would only have to be unleashed as long as it took him to tell us what he knows about The Beast.'

'And why the hell would he do that?' Cordelia asked, 'if the only thing stopping us from forcing the soul back down his throat is him holding out on giving us the information, why would he tell us anything? The longer he refuses to talk the longer he has to work out a way to escape. You guys don't know Angelus. Angel is smart, sure he is, but Angelus is smarter. There's just something about evil that jacks up the I.Q points. He can out-think all of us - and The Beast.'

...

Angel sat forward on the bench, his elbows resting in his knees and his hands pressed together in front of his face - as if in prayer. He had his eyes closed, but he could not block out their voices.

...

'I'm not eager to unleash a serial killer in the body of my boss,' Fred said, 'but - if Angelus is so much smarter than the rest of us - don't we need that? The Beast has serious plans, blotting out the sun, making it rain fire … we need someone who can always be a step or two ahead. Surely there's a way we can make Angel see…?'

'He's afraid for Connor,' Wesley told them, 'he's remembering…' he coughed awkwardly, 'he's remembering the prophecy…'

'That prophecy was false,' Gunn pointed out.

'Well Angelus would take great delight in making it come true,' Cordelia said, 'he always hurts the people that Angel loves the most, the people that anchor him to humanity. He likes to punish Angel for keeping him trapped all these years. Just because that prophecy didn't come down from on high doesn't mean the words can't still come true.'

'But it can't,' Doyle interrupted. Everyone turned to look at him. 'Don't you remember? Sahjahn didn't create the prophecy, he rewrote it. The real prophecy says that Connor will grow up and kill Sahjahn. I remember Angel saying - there was no need to worry, 'cause nothin' could hurt Connor until he'd grown up. It was written.'

'So - it's a reasonable assumption that we could keep Connor safe,' Wesley said, thoughtfully.

'Stick Groo on protector duty - and put them outta the way. Angelus locked in the basement… he isn't gonna get near Connor,' the Irishman said. 'The very existence of the prophecy tells us we can be successful in keepin' the baby safe.'

...

Angel opened his eyes and stared straight ahead, where he could see the little cluster of his family, discussing his future.

...

'Well, this all sounds very convincing,' Fred said, 'but … it's not us that needs to be convinced - it's Angel.'

'I'll do it,' the voice came from the door to the courtyard. They turned to look. Angel was stood there, looking heavyhearted. 'But we'll need a cage.'

'Angel - no!' Cordelia looked horrified.

'About 10 by 12 - 2 inch steel bars, reinforced,' Angel reeled off his instructions, ignoring Cordy for now. 'I'll make some calls.'

Down in the basement, Wesley, Doyle, Gunn and Lorne worked to assemble the cage; welding it in place; bolting on the door; inspecting the bars to check they would hold.

Angel and Cordelia were talking quietly. There were tears in her eyes, as she spoke to him, 'you can't go through with this, Angel,' she said to him, 'please…'

'It's the only way,' he told her, 'we gotta do what we can to solve this. To save the world. We have to make the hard decisions - that's what makes us champions.'

'But…'

'It's ready,' Wesley's voice cut through their hushed conversation. Angel nodded. He stroked Cordelia's hair, tenderly, for a moment, looking into her eyes. 'I'll only be gone a little while,' he promised her. 'And, once I'm back, we'll defeat this thing - and we'll get a chance to be together, whilst the world isn't ending; I promise.' As he spoke, he was aware of Doyle standing near the cage, pretending not to listen - trying not to react. He tried to blank out the eavesdropping half demon, 'just remember - whatever Angelus says to you - to anyone - he's not me, he doesn't speak for me, and I love you, Cordelia. Promise me you'll remember that?'

She nodded and then turned away from him, sniffing. He gazed at her for a long moment, as if wanting to say something more, but then turned to Kali and took Connor from her arms. He held the baby close for a moment, breathing his scent in, and then looked up at the undefeated champion that stood by the demon woman. 'You'll keep him safe?' he asked the Groosalug.

'With my life,' the Groosalug nodded.

'If I get out - if I get near him, you don't hesitate for a moment. Drive a stake right through my heart, you hear? Don't let me hurt my son - nothing else matters.' He held Connor for a moment longer, hugging him tightly, then handed him back to Kali. Then he walked into the cage - and Doyle and Gunn began to strap him down onto a bench.

...

The shaman came into the basement and placed a fragile looking, large vase down onto a table. 'What is that?' Kali whispered, looking at it with interest. Wesley heard her. 'It's called the Muo Ping,' he told her, 'it's the receptacle that will hold Angel's soul until it's ready to be returned.'

...

Once Angel was strapped to the bench, Gunn and Doyle left the cage and the shaman entered it. 'You would be wise to put the second lock on the door,' Wo Pang told them.

'Do as he says,' Wesley commanded - and Gunn added a second bolt to the cage door.

Angel looked up at his friends - they all stared down at him. 'Take Connor out of here,' he said - Kali nodded, and she and Groo left the basement. Lorne looked uncomfortable, 'you know - I think I'll head up there with them,' he said to the vampire, 'if you don't mind - you know how dark magic unleashing unspeakable evil gives me the heebies.'

Angel nodded, and Lorne followed the others up the stairs. 'Cordy, Fred,' Angel said to them, 'you don't have to be here either.'

'No!' Cordelia was still protesting, 'Angel don't do this!'

'Cordelia - don't watch,' he said to her.

'C'mon, Cordy,' he heard Doyle say, 'we can go back upstairs - wait it out. You can stay out of his way until Angel's back.'

The vampire heard the sounds of his erstwhile best friend leading Cordelia away from the cage and up the stairs. From the sound of it, she was still protesting the whole way. The rest of the team stayed put - and watched on.

Beside him, Wo Pang began the ritual. 'Close your eyes and don't speak,' he said - before beginning to chant in a foreign tongue...