Buffy was laying in bed and impatiently waiting for her husband to come home.
As they were leaving the Angel Investigations office earlier, the phone had rung; Angel answered and grimaced at the news. After a short one sided conversation, Buffy was instantly beside him, asking what was wrong.
He sighed, "I'll drive you home, then I need to go help Amanda and Stacy take care of a Senih'd demon." He explained as he grabbed his sword from the display high up on the wall where their children's small fingers couldn't reach it.
"Senih'd…those are covered in sharp spikes." Buffy commented as they made their way to the car, each with a squirming toddler in their arms.
"There's only one and I'll have two trained Slayers with me…and you know I'm really only going as backup." He explained to alleviate her nerves. The two slayers were recent graduates of their training program, but for the first few months for all graduates, at least one experienced fighter accompanied them on out of town slayings as a support backup, just incase.
His reassurances hadn't helped ease her uneasy feeling.
"Can't Faith or Spike go, I thought they were scheduled this week." Buffy countered, slightly annoyed that her husband was getting called in both last minute and on his night off.
"Apparently they up and left for Vegas last night." He informed her of what Willow had updated him on during the short phone call.
Buffy rolled her eyes, "What?" She huffed, annoyed more in her sister slayer than Spike, they'd been so good at keeping commitments lately.
Angel just shrugged, "I don't know." He remarked, shaking his head. "He probably finally asked her to marry him."
Buffy paused on that concept a moment, "Couldn't he wait until they weren't on duty?"
Angel just looked over at his wife and raised an eyebrow.
"Ok yeah, forgot who we were talking about for a second." She amended, knowing those two in particular weren't exactly known for making well thought-out actions.
When they got home and after Angel had changed clothes and spent a few minutes playing with the kids before dinner, Buffy cornered her spouse.
"Be careful." She wasn't asking.
His mortality was a blessing when it came to his beating heart and warm body, but the simple fact those factors also meant he could now be killed a hell of a lot easier than when he'd already been dead would always cause Buffy a certain level of anxiety, especially when she couldn't accompany him to watch his back. Her nerves were still especially frayed since his very near-death experience less than a month ago involving the octopus-like creature.
She hated when he went on these slay based trips without her, but she knew she couldn't cage him in the house. He still played the hero gig, just like she did. And of course, if she forbade him to go on missions, he'd just toss it right back at her when she wanted/needed to go out for a little slay-time.
"I will." He assured, pulling her in for a kiss. "I'll be home late, don't wait up ok?"
"Like I'll sleep…" She rolled her eyes at the absurdity of resting while not knowing where her husband was or what was trying to eat him.
He just kissed her cheek, "I love you."
"I love you…come home safe." Again, she wasn't asking, it was a command.
"I'll be home, promise." He answered, meaning every word.
…
She had an uneasy feeling as she lay awake in their bed many hours later, watching the red numbers on the bedside clock flick to midnight. 'He should have been home by now.' She thought, knowing their destination wasn't that far away.
Just then, light washed over the bedroom wall, she realized it was Angel's car pulling in the driveway.
Relief washed over her as she felt his presence tingling in her spine.
She figured if he was covered in battle goo he'd head straight for the shower downstairs, if not, a raid on the fridge would be the first order of business, then he'd make his way up stairs to kiss the kid's goodnight, and finally he'd end by slipping in beside her for the night like he had on other occasions he'd gotten home very late.
Thirty minutes tops and he'd be safely nestled next to her.
A few minutes passed and she hadn't heard the water turn on, instead a knot was forming in her gut.
Something wasn't right. Something didn't feel right.
She knew by now here feelings were not to be dismissed.
She got up and pulled her robe on, that sense of dread only increasing when she glanced out the window saw his car. The grill of Angel's beloved GTX rested up against the tree growing just outside the driveway.
'He 'crashed' pulling in?' She panicked. It hadn't been a high speed impact, under 10 MPH for Buffy to have not heard it, but still Angel wouldn't have parked it that way willingly.
Quickly heading into the hall and down the stairs she called his name. Reaching the ground floor but seeing nothing in the darkness, she flipped a switch and flooded the room with light.
"Angel!" she yelped, seeing him laying on the ground just inside the door. It looked like he'd enter the house, closed the door…and dropped.
"Angel?" She called again as she reached him, dropping to her knees and rolling him gently onto his back, checking for injuries as she did.
She found more than a few deep slashes on his arms, chest and legs, souvenirs from a Senih'd demon for sure.
He groaned, wincing as she pried his jacket and shirt off for a better view of his injuries.
"Angel, please honey, open your eyes." She asked him, running her fingers along his cheek.
His panted breaths were the only response he gave.
Checking his pulse she found if fast, his heart thundering with blood loss from the multiple lacerations covering his limbs.
Moving quickly, she pulled him up and walked a few steps to the couch, only leaving his side long enough to get the first-aid kit under the sink in the kitchen.
Seeing the paleness of his face, she stopped bandaging the wounds and slipped onto the couch beside him, holding him up against her.
She was afraid he was dying from the blood loss, and it would take too long to get him to the Med-Ward. She shifted him so his head rested on her shoulder, his mouth nearly touching the scar on her neck.
She placed her hand on the back of his neck, holding him in position to drink from her. Within seconds, she felt him stir, the demon growling in him roused by the steady hammering of her blood rushing in her terrified heart.
"Buffy." She more felt than heard him whisper her name as he exhaled a hot breath against her sensitive skin.
His instincts understood what she wanted him to do, denying it he weakly pulled away. "No…girls…car." He forced out, those two words at the forefront of his quickly fading mind.
"Drink." She ordered, ignoring the words for now and holding him tight against her, pressing his lips closer to her pulsing vein.
She felt his mouth move against her scar, his tongue's caress of the raised flesh; she closed her eyes in anticipation.
Instead of the pain of fangs, she felt the sweet sensation of him weakly kiss his mark…then his rigid body went limp against her.
'NO!' Shot through in her very soul, horrified he'd just died in her arms.
Instantly she lowered him flat on the couch, ready to start CPR to get his heart beating again and to fight back death at all costs.
Except he was still breathing.
She let out a breath of pure relief as she realized he'd simply loss consciousness, not died as she'd feared.
Hovering over him, she checked him over more, bandaging the deep but healing gouges on his arms and chest. There wasn't much bleeding anymore, she figured most of his life's fluid was where the fight took place, his healing having slowed the flow to a light trickle by now.
He shivered slightly from the effects of blood loss, and as she reached over him to pull the blanket off the back of the couch, she yelped in surprised horror as his arm yanked her down over him in lieu of the blanket.
"Oh no!" She winced at landing over his so recently covered wounds.
After a moment of finding his arm not releasing her, she noticed he didn't seem fazed in the slightest over her lying on his injuries.
In fact, a second later he nuzzled up further against her.
She almost laughed in relief when she realized he wasn't unconscious, he was asleep.
Ok, so an 'I'm so tired I'm going to literally drop right here' kind of sleep, but sleep none the less. Hey, it was better than being unconscious…or dead.
Not all of it, but a significant portion of her worry faded knowing her husband wasn't dying on her. If he'd been as critical as she'd thought, he would have taken what he needed from her when she'd offered. The Angelus in him found no shame in doing anything it takes to keep alive for his wife and kids.
His healing seemed slower than usual, but then she remembered he'd missed out on dinner. His demon abilities were linked almost directly to his mortal body supplying the vampire within with blood. When Angel suffered severe blood loss or went without food or sleep for long periods, the body was weakened and there was less sustenance for the demon to use as fuel for his healing.
It was sort of a catch twenty two, but under the most extreme circumstances the vampire could surface and drink blood directly from a human source, instantly filling his own body's vein with the consumed blood and supercharging his healing.
Thankfully this apparently hadn't been one of those extreme cases.
She kissed his forehead and rested her head on his shoulder a moment, comforted by the, although unusually fast and shaky, deep and consistent breaths warming her cheek.
...
Buffy hadn't intended to fall asleep, she'd been meaning to sit back up and finishing cleaning and covering Angel's wounds, then forcing him to drink as much water as he could to help his body regenerate the lost blood …but that hadn't exactly gone as planned.
'Damn it.' She thought, slowly sitting up and glancing at the predawn light threatening the darkness outside. The light in the living room was still on, the brightness making her eyes sting a moment from being closed for a few hours.
Checking Angel, she found his heart rate and breathing nearly at normal levels, his wounds however still left a lot to be desired. Figuring sleep would be more helpful than food for a little while longer, she resumed her nurse routine and rubbed ointment on an exposed cut on his bicep.
A moment later he winced and blinked awake, his drowsy eyes quickly settling on his wife. "Morning." He whispered trying for a grin, his voice weak from a dry throat.
"Don't morning me Mister, once I know you're ok, I'm so kicking your ass for this. You told me you were going as backup for two slayers to kill one demon…these wounds aren't from one demon Angel. And where the hell are Amanda and Stacy? How could they just let you drive around in that condition!" She hadn't meant to yell at him, but she was furious at the young slayers and her husband for not telling her the whole story.
His eyes dropped, remembrance and sorrow washing over his features and eradicating any trace of a smile from his lips. "It…it was an ambush Buffy…they're… they didn't…make it."
The anger evaporated from her, now knowing he hadn't lied about the details just so she wouldn't worry as she'd thought he'd done.
"What? What happened?" She asked, feeling horrible for yelling at him and worse knowing two more slayers had lost their lives…two young woman who's lives had been cast into the role of hero by her own plan to share the power.
Every loss of a slayer was personal for Buffy.
He only needed to say one word. "Trap."
Buffy shut her eyes, already picturing the horror of suddenly being surrounded by demons.
"How many?" She asked, needing to know what her slayers had faced before their deaths.
He shook his head slightly, memory still fuzzy, "Not sure…maybe twenty?"
She nodded, clearly seeing the battle playing out from Angel's wounds. "Why didn't you call for backup?" She asked, not understanding why they didn't run if there were too many.
"Coat pocket." He said quietly.
She looked to the discarded pile of shredded leather that had one been his jacket and fished the shattered remains of his cellphone from the pocket. "Oh…right." The phone had gotten smashed in the fight.
Hearing the question in her voice he answered without her needed to ask why he'd stayed to finish them off instead of retreating.
"Alley, cornered…too many…after, I…they're in the car…" Pain worse than physical clearly flashing in his eyes.
She sat back down beside him, running her hand over his shoulder, "I'm so sorry Angel, I'll call AI, they'll come get the...the girls." She didn't want to think about Stacy and Amanda as corpses lying dead in Angel's car, she couldn't say bodies.
She went to make the call, knowing the slayers deserved a proper service and funeral.
After the brief call, Buffy put on her strong face and went back into the living room to sit with her husband.
He was staring over the couch out the window, a brooding grimace firmly in place.
"I'm sorry I got mad at you." She said as she slipped down beside the couch, eyes level with him.
He shook his head, "You have every right to be." He chastised himself for getting two young woman killed. If only he'd been faster, if he's smelled the demons coming sooner, if…if…if.
He'd not felt his soul weighting him down so much since before the merger happened.
"No…no it's not your fault. You were ambushed, and tried your best." She urged, not about to let him relapse into Broodville.
"You're a champion for the Powers Angel, you're not a God. We don't always win."
She crawled onto the couch beside him, wrapping her arms around him to not only comfort him, but herself. It scared her knowing he very well might not have come home last night, or ever again.
He didn't respond, but his arm enclosed around her, pulling her tight despite the pain it caused his cuts.
"I can't fault you for pulling the hero card, it's what we do…I just hate it sometimes." She muttered into his shoulder, wishing sometimes their supernatural life could go on a permeate vacation.
He nodded, "Me too." He agreed, hating when his wife risked her life for the world as all slayers do.
Even married with children…they would never really only belong to each other. The world and the innocent people in it always got first dibs…thus was the curse of being a hero.
She could tell there was something he wasn't telling her, the nearly haunted look in his eyes betraying his silence. Whatever it was, she wouldn't pry yet, she knew he'd tell her when he was ready.
"Be right back." She told him as she untangled herself from his side and went into the kitchen to make him something to eat. If his wounds were going to heal, he needed food and a lot of water.
...
His eyes were shut when she returned ten minutes later, a tray with a few glasses of water and a bowl of chicken soup in her hands. She set the try on the coffee table and sat beside him, using her voice and fingers gliding along his cheek and brow to rouse him.
He groaned and turned away, "Tired."
She smiled weakly, "I know, just drink this and you can sleep ok?"
The smell of the chicken soup got to him, his eyes opened when his stomach growled.
She went to help him into a sitting position, but realized one of the lacerations across his stomach was right along one of the major muscles for that position. Instead, she scooted onto the couch behind him and let him lean against her.
He barely stayed awake long enough to finish the soup and second glass of water. After he faded back out, she lowered him into a more comfortable position, his head resting on her thighs as she finished up with cleaning the healing wounds she could reach from her position.
Buffy was glad he slept though the recovery van from AI bringing the two fallen slayers back to base.
She knew he didn't need to see them again, not in the condition they died in.
It hadn't been pretty.
After paying her own respects to the deceased she waved off the van driver, Jack, and she went back into the house and sat with her husband awhile, keeping him company as he slept and just reassuring herself he was still here with her.
In her mind, she kept picturing his body beside Amanda and Stacey in the back of the van.
She remembered how pale and lifeless he'd looked after the trip to the cavern, when she'd dragged his seemingly dead body into the SUV. He'd recovered from that after nearly a day of the entire gang believing him to be dead, but Stacy and Amanda wouldn't recover.
They were gone.
Buffy truly hated how often her husband got hurt; it hadn't been as worrisome when he was still a full blooded vampire…at least then he'd been a heck of a lot harder to kill.
Ok, so even then she'd still been worried…even if she knew he wouldn't dust as a result of his injuries, the fact he was injured had never sat well with her.
However, if she could have looked into his past and counted how many times he'd been shot or impaled by something just during his first year in LA alone, well by comparison this was nothing.
Her thoughts were mercifully interrupted as a cry sounded from upstairs, their two year old son alerting her he was awake and ready for breakfast.
Angel stirred in her lap, the cry penetrating the heavy veil of sleep.
She reached out and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back down onto the couch when he tried to rise. "Oh no you don't." she urged as she did, keeping her hand on his shoulder so he couldn't sit up. "I'll handle the kids this morning, you get some sleep."
"I'm fine." He muttered, his sleep slurred tone and half closed eye lids didn't exactly fortify the statement.
"Don't bother with the crap lie, and I wasn't asking." She said with a very resolve face.
At his near growl of disapproval she continued, "You're not fine Angel, you collapsed on the way into the house…your demon is exhausted and your body's barely healing itself, you need to recharge for awhile." She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and covered him, rubbing her hand over his heart. "Please?For me?"
Reluctantly he settled again, realizing she was giving him her serious tone. He knew better than to argue when she was using that voice. Not to mention he really couldn't deny her after she'd said please.
Reluctantly, but also with a bit of relief, he nodded his consent.
Satisfied he would go back to sleep, she kissed his cheek then headed upstairs to grab Liam before the next scream shook the house off its foundation.
...
Almost an hour later, Liam was fed and changed and Buffy was lowering him back into his crib. It was barely 6am and she really wasn't ready for the kids to be up yet.
Of course since when do they do what she wanted them to do?
Liam wailed, wanting to be held.
Liam by nature wasn't overly vocal, but when he was...oh boy did the kid have lungs.
"Ok, ok I'll hold you." Buffy immediately responded, bringing the baby boy back into her arms.
Liam quieted and rested his head on her shoulder, small arms wrapped around her neck, content.
She sighed. 'Well I'm not busy, so I guess I can hold him.'
Katie cried from her bedroom.
'I had to think it didn't I?' She sighed, heading into the bedroom next door to deal with her first born.
Utilizing her Slayer agility, she managed to get Katie into the bathroom so the toddler could work on her potty training. Afterwards she helped the very independent little girl get dressed and held her hand as they descended the stairs to get her breakfast.
Katie's eyes spotted her father stretched out on the couch, and instantly she wanted to play with him.
"No honey, daddy needs to sleep…ok?" She urged to her, dragging her past him and into the kitchen.
She didn't exactly go quietly, but soon Buffy was able to distract her with cheerios.
Buffy noticed Liam was falling asleep as he sat from his perch against her hip. 'Finally' she thought, moving to settle him into his booster chair so she could more comfortably cook and wash the dishes.
He seemed to notice the second contact with her ended and he wailed. 'Damn.' Buffy sighed, realizing she wasn't getting out of it that easily and picked him back up. "Ok, ok, fine, you win." She surrendered, holding him tight as his tears dried.
Katie started throwing cheerios and oatmeal from her booster chair, having more fun making a mess than eating.
"Oh honey, no." She rushed over, removing the landmine that was a bowl of oatmeal from her reach.
Of course the nearly three year old was already covered in the sticky mess and finding it terribly amusing.
Buffy sighed again, 'My fault, shouldn't have left it in her reach.' She scolded herself, and as the same time realized she couldn't keep holding Liam and clean up Katie. She needed two hands.
Glancing out into the living room she found a possible solution.
Liam whined as she lowered him down, but soon stopped as he realized where he was being put down.
His little lips smiled, "Daddy! Seepen?" He said playfully, he'd been speaking for a few months now, but it was few and far between. The youth seemed to prefer sounds to actual words. Liam seemed to understand 90% of what he was asked, but when it came to opening his mouth and letting real words out, he was a little behind.
Liam and Katie really were opposites in every way.
Buffy smiled at the few words he did say and at Angel's arms automatically wrapping about the toddler she'd dropped on his chest.
"Katie disaster. Baby sit. Please. Thank you." She said quickly to her half-awake husband, then went to take care of the messy issue in the kitchen.
Angel smiled sleepily as Liam crawled up and grabbed a handful of blanket. "Daddy! Wake up!" He chirped again, wanting his father to open his eyes.
"What is it you little monster?" The proud father teased, tickling the boy in his arms.
Liam laughed, baby shriek loud, but still Angel though it was music to his ears.
After a few minutes, Liam yawned as he laid down against the warm chest, instantly soothed by the steady heart beat pounding beneath him.
Angel ran his fingers down his son's back, watching as those hazel-green eyes lowered.
A few minutes later, they were both asleep.
...
After the Katie disaster was rectified, Buffy glanced out into the living room and smiled as her guys slept soundly on the couch together.
Liam could eat and go back to sleep, Katie never did, so taking the small tornado with her, Buffy went upstairs to entertain her in her room so she wouldn't wake the two resting males on the couch.
...
Angel awoke to a finger probing around up his nose, which, he realized with a thought of dismay, wasn't exactly unusual.
With lightning fast reflexes, he snatched the little hand and snapped it off at the elbow, sending a spray of blood covering the couch.
Ok, no, that didn't happen.
But he quickly pried the little fingers from his sinuses and scolded the boy grinning happily from his vantage point on his father's chest.
"What did I tell you about sticking your fingers in noses?" He asked seriously to his son.
Liam looked back at him, thinking a moment, then shook his head, 'No'.
"That's right, it's rude." He reinforced, however uselessly.
Liam just grinned again and signed he wanted to go play with his cars.
Seeing the boy was wide awake and ready for mischief, he realized his resting time was over, so he sat up and swallowed a wince of pain as he placed the little guy's footie pajama covered feet on the floor.
For someone who wanted to be held most of the time, the kid could move when he wanted too. Angel watched impressed when it took the tyke under a second to cross the room and fall over in front of his favorite blue mini monster truck.
With one eye his son, he pulled the blanket off his chest and examined the wounds Buffy had carefully bandaged last night.
He was by no means fully healed, but the contusions were closed and at least showed no signs of infection, Senih'd demons weren't exactly know for good hygiene.
Mostly his pain was scab related, moving irritated the mostly healed edges of his wounds. Gingerly, he got to his feet, shaky at first but his legs didn't betray him as his weight settled upon them.
Feeling his bladder calling at an alarming volume, he walked slowly into the bathroom and kept the door open so he could listen to Liam 'vrooming' his cars around on the road rug.
Angel quickly flushed, not needing Buffy to see the slight red tint to the liquid in the bowl after he'd finished emptying his bladder.
'Damn, little bastard did hit my kidney.' He thought, irritated at the now thankfully very dead demon that had sent a merciless punch into his back as he'd been pulling another demon off of Amanda.
Noticing he was wearing nothing but boxers, he fished a fairly clean pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the hamper and slipped them on. Personally, he didn't care how much skin he showed, but as a parent he wanted to set a decent example for the kids. He really didn't want his offspring learning to walk around virtually naked.
Walking back into the living room to watch his son play, he slowly performed a few Tia Chi moves to help ease the dull ache in pretty much every muscle he could think of.
"Daddy!" A high squeak issued from behind him, a moment later two little arms were squeezing around his leg in an attempt to scale up his body.
"Hi Baby girl." He greeted, letting Katie grab his hand so he could lift her up with his good, well better that the other, arm without needing to bend.
"What you doin? You have Ouch? Want kiss make better?" The words spilled from her mouth in typical 100 questions a second Katie style.
"I'm just stretching Honey, no ouch, just a little sore, but I'll accept a kiss if you're offering." He replied, glad most of his bandages were hidden beneath his clothes.
Since Katie learned the 'yucky' maneuver, kisses to or from her had been fairly scare, so when she kissed his shoulder and then his cheek, he really did feel a hell of a lot better.
"All betta?" She asked, looking like a doctor after implementing a complex cure.
"Much. Thank you." He replied, managing to sneak in a kiss to her cheek before she wriggled out of his arms and darted over to play with Liam.
"How are you really feeling?" Buffy asked from behind as she slipped an arm around his waist and looked up into his eyes for the truest answer she could wrestle out of him.
He leaned into her touch, something about her always made the world just a little bit brighter. "Can I plead the fifth?" He sighed out, and then deeply inhaled a lungful of her lavender shampoo.
"Not if you don't want to sleep on the couch tonight." She warned, doing her best to ignore his blatant smelling of her.
Honestly, he didn't mind the couch, as long as Buffy was lying with him he could sleep just about anywhere. But he knew that she meant he be sleeping alone, which he now hated with a passion.
"I imagine I feel much like the punching bag in the training room does after all the trainee Slayers had a go at whacking it around." He answered, pulled her closer as their eyes watched their children interact.
She tore her hazel green orbs off the kids and pointed them up to her husband's face, a frown pulled her lips down as she spotted the growing bruise under his jaw and could feel the bandages under his shirt. "You look the part." She added dryly, not liking when he carried around visible evidence of trauma for any length of time.
He leaned over and planted a kiss on her crown, "I'm just tired Beloved." He assured her, "I'll be good as new tomorrow."
She studied his face a moment, reading he was telling her mostly the truth, that his physical wounds would heal in a day or so…but she was worried about what he didn't say. She could see something lurking behind his eyes, an emotional wound that was still very much bleeding heavily.
He looked away quickly, feeling her stare probing deeply for more information but not yet ready to address the issue.
He almost smiled when Liam cried out, providing him an excuse to escape the microscopic gaze of his wife.
"Katie." He scolded his daughter, "Don't take things away from your brother, you need to share."
Buffy folded her arms across her chest, knowing he was just using the kids to weasel out of talking to her.
'If he hasn't told me what's bothering him by the time we put the kids to bed, so help me I'll tie him up until he does.' She thought to herself, moving to collect Liam and sooth the sobbing toddler while Angel once again attempted to teach Katie about sharing.
Usually he didn't keep things from her, he told her just about everything, but occasionally if something hit him particularly hard or if his 'more withdrawn' side was pushing to the front, then he'd retract a bit, try to squirrel away his emotions as if they were nuts and he were preparing for winter.
"You're not off the hook yet Mister." She warned just loud enough for him to hear as she walked by him with Liam wrapped in her arms.
...
The rest of the day progressed like any other; he was tired still but hid it well from the kids, not so much his wife. The two little terrors had enough energy between the both of them to keep him as wired as a gallon of coffee would.
Bedtime finally rolled around, the kids got their usual routines and at last were tucked in for the night, hopefully.
Angel had obviously spoken to Buffy during the day, but hadn't yet brought up what was bothering him, despite constant glaring urges from his wife.
He really wasn't all that surprised when she cornered him in their bedroom as he was grabbing a fresh pair of sweats to sleep in.
"Ok, avoidy time is over. Talk to me Angel" He recognized an order when he heard one.
He sighed, knowing his postponing was at an end. "Buffy"
"No, don't you Buffy me." She advanced, "Something happened out there, something you're not telling me."
His lips remained closed, but she could see the words tumbling around behind his eyes, trying to form sentences.
"What happened when you left here?" She asked, giving his the opportunity to start from the beginning.
Dark brown eyes studied the light blue carpet under his feet for a few seconds, then drifted upwards to meet a worried pair of hazel green.
"It should only have taken an hour or two…" He started.
...
TBC in next chapter.