Chapter 16: Memories, Who Needs Them

1753

It was happening, somehow, Faith had been enlisted into the role of blushing bride. Nobody pretended they were overly enthusiastic, especially Liam's mother who, whilst planning everything down to the minutest of details, was ignoring her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Liam's mom was a bit of an enigma as far as Faith was concerned. She was a quiet woman, didn't speak a lot, she was friendly and soft-spoken but took to her room for days at a time with awful headaches. She was delicate, small, and looked like a soft wind mind knock her down.

Liam had announced their engagement much the same way he announced everything, over dinner, during an argument with Thomas.

To her credit, Alma had been unsurprised, supportive and sweet. It hadn't helped improve Faith's relationship with her. It was Alma's sister who had swept in and taken over the wedding planning, happy to spend Thomas' money and dote upon her beloved nephew.

Now Faith stood on a wooden stool, in the middle of the sitting room. Alma perched on the edge of the sofa, she was pale and struggling through. Faith could tell she should be in bed.

"Ouch!" Faith growled, pushing the seamstress away with her foot. The woman tittered and pulled the skirt straight before Faith could ruin it.

"If you would just stand still!" The bossy cow snapped, Faith huffed. Wishing more and more that she and Liam had eloped. Faith felt like she was living somebody else's life. Standing in a living room, with Liam's family, all pretending they didn't see the bruises and marks along her arms, decolletage and legs.

Vampires hadn't left them.

She'd never give them the chance.

Faith focused on the only thing which didn't make her feel like she was drowning. Soon they'd be married, this would be over and after that? They'd be gone. Away from Angelus, away from Thomas, away from Darla…away from any chance of Willow finding her. They could run from Liam's fate, and they would, she'd never stop.

Mr and Mrs Cabhraigh.

They were going to re-write history.

"Faye," a voice called out and the door was opened before Charlotte could prevent it. Thomas walked into the room, head as usual buried in a book, looked up just long enough to register the indignant look of his wife. Faith shrugged, helplessly. "You're busy, I'll come back."

How Thomas felt about the wedding, he was keeping close to his chest. Faith knew he was frustrated; his wife was spending money he didn't want to. After all, he was still working on the assumption Faith was going to let him send her back when he was finished with her.

His son's heartbreak didn't seem to factor into his thoughts at all.

As long as Faith still had time to hunt and follow instructions, he held his tongue. Probably for the best, Faith wasn't above losing another watcher.

"I think a break would be fine," Alma said softly, Thomas touched her shoulder gently and Faith slumped in relief.

"Thank. God." She hopped off the stool and shuffled after Thomas, a dress of pins and pieces. He didn't waste time on pleasantries.

"I was thinking of a raid tomorrow night, I have managed to source some weaponry, likely nothing like that which you're used to but-"

"Tommy, I'm the only weapon you need," honestly for all his planning and warnings they'd found very little. The vampire nests they had emptied all seemed young, dangerous sure, but no big evil.

"We'll find out tomorrow night."

"So, we're not just burning it?" Faith sounded a little disappointed,

"I would like to explore a little, find out what would make vampires work together like this."

"In my experience fear," Faith shrugged "in the middle of a bunch of obedient vampires you find a bigger vampire. Meaner. Stronger. But still just a vampire," Faith's mind flitted back to the first 'bigger vampire' she'd faced, Kakistos, she'd run from him all the way to Sunnydale and Buffy. Shaking off the memory she reminded herself she wasn't a scared little girl anymore. She was faster, stronger and not prepared to let anybody stick around to get Liam.

"I did remember you saying something similar a few nights ago and I've been doing some research into it. There are entire passages, split over a good few books, referencing a vampire called the Master."

"The Master? Seriously. What kind of egotistical asshole refers to himself as the Master?" Faith sat on his desk, having followed him to his office. A pin stuck her and she pulled her skirt up gently to touch the tiny spot of blood that had appeared.

"I've written to a few of my colleagues and am contemplating holding off our attack until I have heard their replies, best not go in without being fully prepared." Thomas was all too used to ignoring Faith's colourful disruptions now.

"Prepared or not, we'll go in, I'll slay and-"

"Would you like some tea?" Alma was holding a tray; Faith dropped her skirts shamefully and jumped off the table. The tray rattled and Faith was in the right place to grab it as Alma swayed and it fell from her hands.

"Are you quite alright?" Thomas rushed forward; vampires forgot. "Charlotte!" He shouted for his sister-in-law, "help me get her upstairs. She's as white as a sheet."

"Is she going to be okay?" Faith asked, "should I get Liam?"

"No." Thomas snapped, the softened. "Just, no." She followed them to the stairs and then hung back. Faith had no idea what was wrong with Alma, but she seemed to get weaker by the day. This isn't what she wanted, a doting family life, it chafed. She wasn't a part of this, she was watching from the outside.

"Shall we crack on?" The seamstress asked tartly. Faith sighed, nodded and surrendered to the inevitable.

Wedding. Slaying. Liam.

Soon; Liam.

Thomas was utterly convinced something huge was going, some big evil lurking in the darkness. Faith wasn't really so sure, after the initial attack at their home, nothing had transpired. It certainly didn't seem to be a village under attack, then again perhaps she was too used to Sunnydale and 'big evil' meaning 'end of the world'. This was somewhat anti-climactic. She didn't voice this, because the second he thought her unneeded then surely, he would send her back. So, she smiled, pretended that they were imminent peril and tried not to look bored. It was hard to believe that Angelus could ever be sired in such a boring little hamlet.

Present Day

The hours were creeping along excruciating minute by excruciating minute. Arriving back at the hotel after yet another wild goose chase of Wesley's, the last person he'd expected to see again was Buffy. He'd assumed, and perhaps hoped, that she'd be on her way back to Sunnydale by now. Having her this close, in his city, was a unique brand of torture that he thought he might never be cured of.

"Is everything okay?" He asked a hint of worry in his voice, because if she was here, again, then the answer was almost definitely no.

"Actually, I found something that I think belongs to you." Buffy said simply inclining her head towards the door to his office, "left it in there." Curious, with his usual frown, Angel didn't ask further questions, instead, he headed slowly to his office. He wasn't sure what he had expected, exactly, but what he found certainly wasn't it. Sitting in his chair, spinning absently back and to, was one of the last people he'd ever expected to see again.

"Kathy?" The girl's eyes snapped up. She scowled for a minute and then her eyes widened like saucers as she flew from the chair and into his arms. Angel was frozen, numb, words were spilling out of her mouth, but he wasn't paying much attention.

He wasn't listening.

He wasn't thinking.

It was too much.

The memories.

Faith.

Now, this?

His little sister was standing in front of him, removed from her world and his memory and injected into the here and now. Flesh and blood. She hugged him tightly, so tightly in fact that if he'd needed to breathe it might have become an issue. He stood awkwardly; face masked in confusion.

"From what I can tell she only speaks Irish," Wesley spoke, Angel hadn't even seen him sitting in the office.

"Gaelic," Angel corrected,

"Which is why I thought I'd better bring her to you." Buffy reasoned, triumphantly. "Something seemed a little off, what with everything with Faith…you know her then?"

"Buffy, I," Angel looked at her, forlorn, "this is my sister."

"I love it when I'm right." Buffy breathed smugly. "Nice to meet you," Buffy smiled, stepping a little closer. Angel prised himself away a little, looking down at her.

"This is Kathy."

"Your dad traded your sister for a slayer?" Willow asked, sounding disgusting. Angel hadn't ever imagined. Kathy had been here, the whole time, lost and alone and he'd been pining over Faith. He stared into her eyes and tried not to remember how they looked as the light had faded from them.

"That's all kinds of messed up." Buffy grimaced. "Is she ok?"

He nodded, she looked alright. He should speak to her, reassure her, but she was clinging to him and he didn't know what you said to the very real ghost of the first child he'd murdered. She needed to go back. He had to send her back to die at his hands.

Kathy tipped her head back, chin against his chest, looking at him with every ounce of love and adoration she'd had for him. Her wayward big brother. He remembered the horror in them as he'd drained the life out of her. He felt sick. Angel pulled her arms from him with a speed that threatened to topple her and he took off out of the room.

He was in Hell.

1753

Wiping the dust off her dress, Faith scanned the perimeter, ignoring the footsteps encroaching from her left. If there was one thing Thomas had done for her, it was increase her perception ten-fold. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of slayer she could have been had somebody like him been her first watcher. No, it wasn't him. It was her. She was different now. She needed to be better. Stronger. She had somebody to protect.

"That one doesn't count." Even to her own ears, her tone sounded petulant, she didn't like being proven wrong.

"So that's six vampires now. I could be wrong, but I believe you said that if there was indeed something about to happen, their numbers would increase as more came in from afar..." he sounded smug. Faith hated smug. Brushing the wayward hair back from her damp, sweaty face she scowled.

"I said that there would be an increase. More than one over the space of a week. That was just a bit of bad luck."

"And that's one more than two nights ago. And three more than we were averaging two prior to that."

"Oh no, somebody call Buffy there's an apocalypse happening." Her droll sarcasm was lost on Thomas, who frowned but shook it off. Faith was tired. Like Liam, he had developed an uncanny ability to ignore anything she said that he didn't understand. All the slayer wanted to do was go home to Liam, drag her wayward lover out from his bed and have some fun. Her life was shifting heavily towards the work more than play ratio and she was decidedly not enjoying it. Something had to change. Something would change. She and Liam would blow this joint, jump on a boat and be gone. Then there would be no more vampires, no more hunting, just them going all Bonny and Clyde on the world.

With a less tragic ending.

Just a little longer.

She could stick it a little longer.

"I have to say though, your craft is well-honed. Inventive also, where did you conceal that stake?"

"A lady never tells." Faith quipped, "now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to do very unladylike things with your son."

"This isn't some kind of hobby Faith." Thomas dropped his tone, he only used her real name when he was trying to impress seriousness on her.

"I know, it never is." And nobody knew that better than her. She lived in a state of constant worry, wondering how close they were to Liam's life being snuffed out. Terrified she was leaving it too late. The wedding was only a few weeks away now, everything was falling into place. Even that seemed like a lifetime. She wanted to leave now. But Liam was adamant they should be married first and so she did what she could to curb her desperation to run.

She was distracted as she wandered into the house and up the stairs, giving the shadows no regard, lost in her thoughts as she so often was these days. When he grabbed her, she didn't even flinch. Merely smiled against the wall where he pinned her from behind, her cheek hot against the cold stone. She felt his lips on her neck before she felt his breath. Her body relaxed in spite of itself, something about him never failed to comfort her. As long as they were together, everything was okay. His fingers were edging up her skirt, fingers digging almost painfully into the bare flesh off her ass. She pushed back against him. More than used to his exhibitionist tendencies. They were in the corridor, anybody could see them, his parents, the servants. Faith groaned as his wandering fingers pressed between her legs.

"Are you mine again now?" He asked. She could hear it in his voice – the possession, slowly escalating with each passing day. Faith might pretend she didn't like it, or his newfound impulses to take her wherever he saw fit. Liam was getting more and more frustrated, just as she was. His fingers disappeared for a moment, and she almost protested their loss until she felt his cock press against her, sliding inside her easily, she had been ready for him the second he pinned her to the wall.

Not long now and they'd be gone. Together. No distractions. It was a promise she recited to him constantly. As much for her sanity as his reassurance. Faith moaned against the wall softly as he pounded into her, gripping her hips filmy her face pressed against the wallpaper.

"Can I not just be my own?" Faith asked but even to her own ears, it didn't feel like a genuine question. There was no room for speaking then, she dropped her own hand between her legs, the other bracing against the wall so that she could bend forward and he could get deeper. Their moans grew until she came, loudly, clenching around him and triggering his own orgasm. He emptied himself into her, the thrusts becoming less frantic, deeper until he collapsed against her back, chin resting on her head as he panted heavily, getting his breath back. Faith was beginning to feel like a rag doll being pulled in too many directions. She hated this. Hated not knowing how much time they had left. "Let's just leave," she sighed, "now. Tonight."

"But the wedding..."

"I hate weddings. They're boring and nobody enjoys them. Everybody just wants the booze and the chance to dance and maybe get laid. Why do there need to be people? Can't we just do it ourselves? 'I do', 'I do too', and all that crap."

"Faye."

"I know, I know." No matter how she tried, she'd not found a way to sway him. Who'd have thought he'd end up being so proper. "Want to go and see how much rum we can con from the trading merchants?" Faith changed the subject, the last thing she wanted to do after a long night slaying was fight with Liam. She'd be quite content if she never had to fight with Liam ever again.

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Can I clean up first?"

"No, I like you filthy, walking around town with me dribbling down your legs. My own little whore." Liam bit his lip, desire already building up in his eyes again. Faith grinned.

God how she loved this man.

Present

It took some time for Angel to pull himself together and face Kathy properly. He couldn't explain how he was feeling to anybody, how wrought and guilty. Kathy wanted him, he was the only one who understood her, he owed her his time at least. So, he forced himself back downstairs.

"Angel?" The vampire looked up from the scene in front of him, it was hard not to find the sight of Wesley trying to translate what Kathy was saying amusing. Kathy looked up and Angel shook his head, people not calling him Liam was confusing her and though he'd already explained it a couple of times, it wasn't really sinking in. Angel didn't really have the heart to keep explaining it. She was a quick little thing and had cottoned on immediately to what Wesley was doing. He'd forgotten how sharp her humour had been. Quickly losing him with colloquiums and abbreviations. Every now and again she'd throw some Celtish in to really confuse him. Or some French. Angel was trying hard not to laugh.

It was the most fun he'd had in days.

Between watching the floor show he'd also been reading more through his father's diary and was beginning to think he might just stop altogether. The dreams reached a fever pitch, night after night, flooding his consciousness. Logic told him there was no chance the mystery woman he was remembering wasn't Faith.

His first love had been Faith?

It was taking some getting used to.

He'd not mentioned it to the others, it felt strange, to confess that hundreds of years ago he and Faith had hooked up, maybe. They didn't need to know the intimacies of Angel's human sex life. Besides, how could he tell them? 'Oh, Faith, yeah, possibly love of Liam's life. How about that.'

He continued reading Faith's present, centuries after it was transpiring, not translating any parts which alluded to the two being in a relationship. It was strange, he was still remembering bits and pieces, feelings, emotions, events, but in no particular order and they were all disorientated and confused. It was beginning to frustrate him.

Angel rested his head against the cold wood of the desk, he was a vampire and yet his skin felt like it was permanently on fire. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head to see a flash of green.

"Come with me." So rarely did the demon give orders or sound stern, Angel frowned but obeyed and followed Lorne up the stairs and to his room. When he closed the door, Lorne fixed him with a sympathetic look "Have a seat."

"I'm not one of your clients Lorne."

"No Angel-Cakes you're my friend. These headaches aren't good for you, and neither are all your locked up memories. You've been in a dream state for weeks. And I've held my tongue and minded my own business but it's eating you up. We need you in the now, not the then. Please, let me try and help?"

"Help how? Singing isn't going to work, this isn't-"

"Singing isn't the only trick I have up my sleeves Big Fella,'" he spoke enthusiastically. Angel blinked. Then sighed. Then conceded.

"Fine. It won't do any good though." The vampire sounded sulky to his own ears. He straightened up and vowed to be less churlish. Lorne stepped up in front of Angel and placed two fingers on each of his temples.

"This might sting a bit."

Angel sat there for what seemed like an age. Nothing was happening. He wasn't sure what to expect, or if he was supposed to know if it was working. He was about to pull away when suddenly it felt like his head was being stuck in a vice. He tried to move but couldn't, he felt his face contort into the familiar vampire visage as his demon pushed its way out in reaction to the pain. He tried to speak and couldn't. It was beyond pain, white-hot agony, Angel felt like he was going to die.

And then suddenly, it was gone.

Headache included. Pushing Lorne away roughly he growled,

"What the Hell did you do?"

Lorne looked at him for a long moment, almost stupefied, he opened his mouth to ask if it worked but Angel's face was suddenly awash with emotion. The vampire fell to his knees and the empathic demon slowly walked out of the room. Lorne had the mother of all headaches now, but he he'd done a good thing. Even if Angel probably wouldn't be thanking him for a long while.

"Are you okay?" Fred stopped him mid-way down the corridor "did I hear Angel yelling?"

"He'll be fine," Lorne glanced back "I just gave him back his memories."

"You-"

"Fancy joining me for a Sea-Breeze or six?" Lorne asked through gritted teeth, somehow maintaining his chipper demeanour.

"Do you think I should-"

"I think we should give him some time to come to terms with his thoughts." And with a hand firmly in the small of her back, Lorne guided Fred back downstairs in order to let Angel have some privacy.

Angel remembered everything.

No longer were the memories dream-like.

Liam didn't feel like a stranger, he remembered being him, remembered being human.

He remembered everything.

He remembered Faith. Faye.

He remembered loving her.

He remembered those months before he turned with such painful accuracy that he almost wished he couldn't.

For the first time, he longed for Faith, not because of guilt, but because he'd already lived centuries without her and it was enough.

His headache had gone completely, as had the fuzziness. Angel felt for the first time like he could focus on the here and now. Firstly, he needed to know exactly what had stripped him of the memories. Confronting Lorne downstairs was his first point of call.

"You're looking better!" Fred observed, relieved. She was right, he was, he was feeling better too. But he needed answers, it might be a lead on how to get Faith back!

"I do feel better."

"Glad to be of service," Lorne smiled behind his cocktail glass, taking a long sip, "I think we've done a straight swap for that headache though."

"I didn't know Empath demons could lift magical amnesia," Wesley pondered, entering the foyer, it's all they had been talking about.

"We can't," Lorne said simply, obviously enjoying the confused looks between the rest of the group. Angel supposed it wasn't often he got to feel like the one with all the answers.

"So how did you-"

"Boy you guys really can't let a man bask in his triumphant smugness for even a moment, can you? Fine, fine, I'll spill. My first clue was the headaches, I've seen amnesia before, stripped memories, the amount of traffic I had showing up in Caritas begging for help," his hand gesture emphasised that it was a lot "but I've never known memories slip back. Headaches. Dreams. Disorientation. That's all different. It means the memories are still there, just buried. This is what made me think that with a bit of this and that I'd be able to bring them from your subconscious. I didn't want to say anything straight away, I wasn't sure it could be done, but I've been talking to a few of my friends and decided it was worth a go."

"So, who suppressed my memories?" Angel asked, not being any the wiser after Lorne's explanation.

"I'm afraid you did my lost little lamb." Lorne sighed, anti-climactically.