A Union of Souls, Chapter Twenty-Five
Angel stepped from the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind him. He felt drained, impossibly drained. Even after ingesting three bags of blood, he still had regained little of his strength and stamina. But that didn't matter to him really; it didn't change anything and it didn't stop the necessity of work that needed to be done.
"Doyle." Angel called to the half-demon, holding onto the doorknob for support while he gathered all the energy he would require for the short walk to the elevator.
"Hey, Angel, man," Doyle approached him quickly, pausing a few feet away and folding his arms across his chest. "You know, you don't look too good?"
"Yeah, you look even more dead than normal," Cordelia cheekily informed him. "How do you feel?"
"Like I've been to hell and back," Angel responded, feeling his mouth quirk into a slight smile at Cordelia's unique display of concern. His eyes made a quick circuit of the room, locating Adam and Giles, and the other teleporter — Tomorrow Person — Megabyte. The fleeting thoughts and memories that he had gathered from Ami while they were caught at the edge of the seal of the bond, filled in the blanks.
His thoughts scattered briefly, focusing almost completely on the bond and the Tomorrow Person slowly drifting to sleep on the other side of the door. She had dampened down their link — something he wished he had thought of sooner — effectively muting the buffeting and cascading of their minds and emotions against one another, and for that he was grateful. It was hard enough dealing with the constant gnawing awareness of the demon, he wasn't sure how he would adjust to living with another awareness.
He would have to, he knew that much. He had been in this game long enough to know that what The Powers That Be did was seldom to be undone. And to their way of thinking, everything They did was for some purpose or another. Why else would They have sent Whistler to pull him out of a gutter and speed him on his way to Sunnydale and Buffy Summers? Why pull him out of hell — and yes, he was convinced now that he had been freed from hell by Them. They sent him Doyle, They sent him missives, and now, for reasons he probably would never comprehend, They had sent him Ami as well.
Angel forced the random musings aside. He could worry about that later. Right now, there were more pressing issues. "How much time did we lose?"
"Lose?" Doyle looked up, and then nodded as he made the connection. "You've been out for a day and a half. I've been keepin' an ear to the ground and there's not a sign of Cordovan, Giselle or any of his forces anywhere."
"I should think not," Giles remarked. "It seems to me that his forces were badly decimated in that backlash. I'm still amazed it didn't incinerate us all as well."
"Well, we know why," Angel walked slowly across the room, sinking to the sofa. As he did so, he released an unnecessary sigh of relief to have accomplished walking that short distance. "It's also a good thing. I want to strike while his guard is down. He won't be expecting us again. We can go back in—"
"Angel, you're not seriously considering going back into the enemy camp?" Giles demanded.
"You don't leave an enemy at your back," Angel reminded the former Watcher. "You know this as well as I do. We still have a chance to take down his power base —"
"Angel," Doyle sat on the coffee table across from him, clamping him on the shoulder, "I want you to know that I say this with all due respect —"
"You're crazy," Cordelia overrode Doyle's words. "That is like complete and total suicide. I mean, you're not Batman, okay? Mr. I've-been-playing-dead-for-almost-two-days-and-I-still-think-that-I-can-go-out-and-fight-the-evil, would you like to wake up now?
"You are like so completely useless right now that Doyle could take you."
"Hey!" Doyle protested.
Giles interrupted before Cordelia and Doyle could lapse into one of their infamous quarrels. "Angel, I have to agree with Cordelia and Doyle. You truly are not in any condition to go out and face Cordovan or his forces."
"Giles, I have a responsibility—"
"Oh, yes, I've heard all about your responsibility and your mission. Help the helpless, slay evil where you find it, aid all those in Doyle's visions." Giles sank into the armchair, removing his glasses as he caught and held Angel's gaze. "But do I need to remind you that you have another responsibility now? One that you should consider before you rush off into battle and get yourself killed.
"You're weak. And the bond is much too new for us to have any idea how you going out and getting injured or worse — killed — will affect her. Is that truly a risk you want to take, Angel?"
Angel didn't know what he hated more: being lectured by Rupert Giles or being lectured by Rupert Giles when he recognized every word the man said as being true and right. He nodded, slowly and reluctantly in acquiescence.
He would stay in tonight.
"We'll get another chance at Cordovan," Doyle promised.
Angel was counting on it.