Disclaimer: Let's see. Broke. Still working for a living. Not famous. Name not Joss Whedon. So that must mean that I don't own any of the characters that people recognise. More's the pity. Ahh well.
Spoilers: This was written about half way through season one ATS, so anything prior to that.
Authors Note: No malice is intended towards those that are mentally and physically disabled. I'd been watching 12 Monkeys and Patch Adams when this idea came to me. I know that these illnesses are debilitating and serious. Okay, now that I've got that understood (I hope) please R&R.
Rating: And those under 17 can still read without fear (PG)
Chapter 4
Whether it was Buffy's commandment or the trick of luck Angel didn't know, but his dreams were much nicer. Softer. Most importantly, there was no blood. Just images of sunlight, a younger Buffy and a thin woman with long brown hair. And most importantly, there was laughter and kindness. Not just towards him, but from him, given to the two women. And several others, none of which he recognised. He woke up the next morning feeling relaxed and excited.
They were waiting for him after he'd had breakfast. Cereal and milk, as always. He wondered if normal people ate breakfasts like they do on TV. Fruit and bacon and eggs and toast. He'd find out soon enough. Mr D came up to him, while he was still sitting down, sipping his orange juice.
"It's time, John." He was told. He stood up and looked at Mr D.
"What is your name?" He asked, having not heard it once in the six months he'd been in the ward.
"Daniel." The nurse replied.
"Daniel, my name is Angel. Not John." Daniel stopped for a second, then nodded.
"Good luck then, Angel. This way." Angel followed, waving quietly to the others. Daniel led him towards the door, then opened it and took him outside. Miss Bronson waved, busy talking on the phone. It felt cold and stark outside the ward. Daniel led him down the same corridor that Buffy had used before, turning right at the end. Another set of doors were just beyond the turn, and Daniel punched in some numbers and swiped his card, opening the door and stepping back. Angel hesitated, unsure.
"Go on, Angel. They're on the otherside waiting for you." He walked through and almost jumped when the door shut behind him. He saw what he thought was a waiting room just up a head. The chairs were placed in well ordered rows, and there was Buffy and Giles sitting in two of them. He walked forward, his heart beating strongly in his chest. He was happy to be out of the ward, but scared at the same time. It was all he knew. All he remembered. Buffy looked up as he walked in, and then stood up quickly. Giles stood up after her, and stared. Angel had been given some different clothes to wear this morning. Black slacks and a sloppy dark grey jumper. No shirt. It felt...right. Buffy smiled at him.
"What?" He asked her, feeling uncomfortable. He'd gotten used to the clothes he'd been given in the ward. Grey sweat pants and jumper, with a white top underneath.
"You just look like....you. Now. I brought those in yesterday, so that you could wear them when you left. They're your clothes, Angel. All we need to do is cut your hair again."
"It's bad?" He asked, hand going up to it.
"No, it's just not how you wear it, normally. But we'll do that later. Let's get you back home."
"Home?" He felt like he should go back inside. He'd not said anything remotely intelligent since he walked out of that door.
"Yes, home." Giles spoke for the first time. "Let's go." He walked ahead, giving Angel and Buffy time to follow. The car park downstairs was very quiet. It was still early in the morning, and the usual visiting crowd had not come yet. Angel looked back up towards the fifth floor. His floor. He saw a face peering out of one of the windows, and waved up. Whoever it was waved back. The car was parked on the other side of the car park. Out of the shadow of the building. Angel followed Buffy and Giles towards the car, then stopped suddenly, just before the sunlight touched the tarmac. Buffy noticed he wasn't following after a few steps and turned back.
"Angel?" Then she saw where he'd stopped. "Oh." He looked up at her, confused.
"I....I don't want to step forward. I'm scared. Why am I so scared of the sunlight?" He was worried that he really would have to go back into the ward. Buffy walked towards him, Giles standing just beside the car.
"Angel, it's okay. There is a reason why you're scared of the sunlight. But you don't need to be anymore. Look, put your hand on my shoulder." She stepped forward, just into the shadow of the building. Angel did as he was told, putting his hand on her shoulder. She stepped back, extending his arm. His hand was now in the sunlight. He felt the warmth wash over his palm. She stepped back again, and he stepped forward with her. Now his arm was in sunlight. Once more she stepped back, and once more he followed. He was now standing in direct light. His whole body bathed in the natural warming globe. He held his breath, waiting for something. What ever it was it never happened, and he breathed a very deep, relieved breath.
"Okay?" She asked him after a moment. He nodded. "I'll tell you why-"
"Later?" He asked, a small smile on his face.
"Later." She agreed.
Giles pulled up at a small apartment block about an hour later. The drive had been interesting, familiar. Angel knew that he'd been here before.
"My home?" He asked.
"Not quite. This is where Cordelia lives." Buffy told him, unbuckling and opening the door at the same time. The name Cordelia brought a flash of memory. She was sitting down, laughing with him, with a window full of lights behind her.
"Angel? Shall we go in now?" Buffy asked him, standing with Giles. Angel nodded and walked with them up the stairs. Giles knocked on one of the doors, which opened almost immediately.
"Thank you, Dennis." Giles said, entering the house. Buffy followed, with Angel a step behind. His heart had sped up, and he was breathing in short gasps. Giles noticed.
"It's okay, Angel." Giles said, coming forward. "Try not to get worked up. Have a seat, we'll bring you some tea." Angel sat down on one of the couches, then noticed that there were a couple of other people with him. Willow, he'd met a few days ago. The others must be his friends. The brunette was familiar, he'd seen her in the flashes he was getting. The two men, he didn't recognise.
"You're Cordelia." He said, pointing at the brunette. She smiled, delighted that he'd recognised her. "You're Willow. But I don't....I can't...."
"My name is Wesley Windam-Price, Angel. This is Alexander Harris. We both knew you before you lost your memory."
"Wes and Xander." Angel said, looking at the both.
"Yes, you called me Wes. Do you remember?" Wesley asked, leaning forward.
"No. Just the name Wes." He looked at Buffy, a little worried. She'd sat down beside him.
"It's okay, Angel. You'll remember, just give it time." Giles walked in with a tray of tea, and handed him a cup. He sipped, letting the hot drink calm him.
"Is it later yet?" He asked, looking at the others watching him. He felt that they were restraining themselves, had been told to hold back because he couldn't remember them.
"Later?" Cordelia asked.
"Well, we haven't told him his history yet, we thought we'd leave that for today - when we didn't have the other people surrounding him." Buffy explained quickly.
"Good idea." Wesley approved.
"Thanks." Giles said dryly. "I suppose it is later." There was a long silence as they all thought how to explain to Angel his life.
"Um....Angel." Willow caught his attention. "Do you believe in the supernatural. Like witches. Demons. Vampires. Things like that?"
"Why?" He saw her about to get annoyed with him and held up his hands. "Okay, I'll answer it." He thought for a few seconds. "I suppose. I don't disbelieve, anyway. Hell, how am I supposed to know? It seems to me, I'd be that last person you'd ask that question."
"There is a reason." Buffy told him, sitting forward. "They do exist, Angel. Demons, witches, vampires. They all are very real, and some of them are very dangerous. My job. Our job was to fight them. I'm known as the Slayer." A flash of bright memory flickered through his mind. Buffy fighting with some grossly figured man. At that point, Buffy held up the crayon picture he'd drawn the day before.
"Angel, this is a vampire. You drew it yesterday, remember? Your subconscious was trying to tell you something."
"You fight vampires?" He asked, making sure he understood.
"We both do. And anything else of the evil variety that may pop up. Generally it's vampires for me. You used to take care of a lot of the demons that live in LA. You, Wes and Cordelia."
"Okay." Angel said slowly. "What happens if I say, you're mad!?" He asked, getting up and looking at them all. They were all very serious, and looked at him with pity and understanding.
"I'd say, we're not. It's just a part of the world that most people try not to see. How about we give you some proof of witchcraft, at least? Would that help you?" Buffy asked, still sitting down.
"Sure! Why not! Go on, turn me into a frog!" He stood still, waiting.
"This is different." Xander commented.
"What?" Angel asked him, glaring.
"Well, before, it used to be you, telling us about the demons that were coming. You knew they existed because you were a vamp-"
"Xander!" Buffy, Willow and Giles cried out at once.
"What?" Angel demanded, getting a cold shiver down his spine. He heard Buffy growl low in her throat, then she turned to face him.
"Not that way I wanted to get you to remember, but here it is. You were born around the year 1750 - over two hundred years ago. You were made into a vampire by your sire, Darla. You were cursed over 80 years ago by a gypsy troupe after you'd killed one of their daughters. You got a soul. That's when you started to help people, and fight evil."
"I'm a vampire? And I'm two hundred and change years old?" He started to smile, then laugh. He noticed that on one was laughing with him. He stopped, suddenly cold.
"This isn't funny, is it?" He asked them all. They shook their heads. "You really believe this, don't you?" They nodded. "Shit." He sat down again, thinking that he wasn't the only one who needed to see a shrink.
"Angel, think about the dreams you were having. The picture you drew. Your fear of sunlight this morning." Giles told him quietly.
"But I can walk in the sunlight! From what I can remember of vampire folk-lore, they can't. So how can I be one?"
"You were one up until about 8 months ago. The PTB gave you back your humanity as a reward for services rendered." Wesley told him.
"Convenient." He said shortly.
"How about some proof?" Willow asked him. "Not about the vampire, but about the other stuff?" He gestured, as if to say, go ahead. She did so, chanting softly. After a few seconds, she held out her hand and a blue flame appeared in the middle of her palm. She closed her hand, the flame disappeared. She then opened her eyes and started another chant. She pointed at the lamp on the table beside him. He watched as it melted slowly, and formed a pool of melted ceramic and plastic. It then reformed slowly, reversing the melting process.
"Oh." He mutters softly. A book flew through the air towards him suddenly, and he jumped back, stunned. It landed gently on his lap and the pages started flicking over, quickly.
"Willow? You can stop now." Angel told her, believing.
"That's not me. It's Phantom Dennis." The pages stopped turning
"Phantom Dennis. Let me guess, a ghost?" The others nodded. "Right."
"Read what he's put in front of you." Buffy suggested. Angel looked down at the book on his lap, and started reading.
"Watcher Diary, July 1857. Angelus and Darla were seen in Bombay earlier this month. After following several leads, I found proof of their occupation of the city in a small underground apartment. They had been there for some time, if the bodies buried in the area behind the apartment were any indication. However, this nest appeared to be extremely old, and it is possible that it has been used by several vampires throughout the last fifty years. My Slayer, Charlotte is keen to follow the two, however, I would like to study their habits first. It should give us insight into their behaviour. These two in particular seem to enjoy death. I fear for Charlotte, I must admit. Angelus has a reputation." He looked up at the others, after reading this entry.
"Angelus? Why does that feel familiar."
"It's you. Or rather, you when you were a vampire. You shortened your name when you gained a soul. You are now Angel. Keep reading."
"Watcher Diary, March 1900. We have followed Angelus to Los Angeles. I have been following him for several months now. I have been trying to complete what Watcher Anthony started fifty years ago, but this creature is illusive and dangerous. I have already lost both of my assistants to him. Marissa is with me again, after leaving to destroy the nest of vampires in Mexico. She is watching, studying the creature they call Angelus. He truly does have the face of an Angel. I am afraid for her. Angelus killed Charlotte, Anthony's slayer. What will he do with Marissa?
Watcher Diary, August 1900. The earthquake has destroyed Los Angeles. What was left of the city is now a battlefield for the living. Angelus and his sire, Darla, are rampaging through the city. From what I can see, when I do manage to follow them, they are killing indiscriminately, not even hiding their demon visage from the populous. Marissa has gone now. Not as I feared, but by her own hand. She was crippled in the quake, after a building fell on her. She told me that the world needed the next Slayer, and while she lay crippled, the next one would not come. She died bravely. The new Slayer has not arrived yet, and I fear it may be too late for us to stop Angelus. He's looking ready to leave again. My contacts tell me it's likely to be Prussia, or Romania. I will continue to watch until then.
Watcher Diary, May 1920. Continued searching has failed to come up with any leads on Angelus. He was last seen in Romania with his sire, Darla. Since that time, he has disappeared from view, and the Council resources have failed to come up with a location for the vampire."
"That was when you were cursed with a soul again." Buffy told him when he stopped reading. "You used the name Angelus because when you first rose, you visited your house, and your sister called you an Angel, and invited you in."
"I remember her." He said softly, seeing a young girl looking up at him, her eyes bright with wonder. Then her eyes dimming as he....killed her. His heart turned over and then started aching with remembered pain. He looked up at Buffy, tears of pain in his eyes. "I remember killing her. Enjoying it. And my mother. And father. Oh GOD!" He shoved up from the chair and started pacing, trying to get away from the memories. If this was what he was like, he didn't want to remember. Without warning, he was seeing hundreds of people, all of them dying or dead, and knew he'd killed them. He lashed out at the wall closest to him, punching it as hard as he could. Then he stopped, stunned, looking at his hand. It had penetrated the wall and the brick behind it, and was embedded up to his elbow. Buffy came up to him and helped him remove his arm.
"That was the other thing that we forgot to tell you. When you were made human by the Powers That Be, they left your strength. You're now much stronger than a normal human. Like me." He was studying his hand, flexing it, noticing that it didn't hurt. Then he processed what she'd just said.
"Like you? What do you mean?"
"I'm the slayer, Angel. I am preternaturally strong. Like Superman. But not an alien. And I don't have an ice palace."
"Oh.... Huh?" He was frowning. Buffy shook her head, annoyed with herself.
"I keep forgetting that you don't remember anything. The Slayer is a girl born in every generation. Chosen to protect the public from vampires and demons etcetera etcetera. To help with this, we're extremely strong, and we heal fast."
"Slayer. The diaries mentioned a slayer."
"That's right. We've been around since before time began. Every time one of us dies, another is called."
"And you fight?"
"Demons. Vampires. Bad guys. Basically we fight evil."
"We?"
"We. When I'd just started out, you helped me. For three years, we fought together, learning from each other."
"We fought each other?"
"Just for a while. About 6 months, when you turned bad again."
"I turned....No, I don't want to know." He paused for a few moments, gathering himself. "If what you say is true." He looked at the hole in the wall. "And it seems to me that I can't really argue with what you've shown me, then what happened to me? Why did I loose my memory?" He looked around the room, staring at each one of them. "What happened?"
"That's what we're going to find out." Wesley said, getting up off the couch.
"How?" Xander asked.
"We have an idea." Cordelia admitted. "Wesley was sort of hoping that Willow would be able to help."
"Me?" Willow was stunned. "Why would you need my help?"
"To perform a spell to help him remember." Wesley told her. "We've researched, and we think we've found one, but it takes three with the power to perform it. That's you, Giles and myself."
"Oh. That sounds like a plan." Willow jumped up, ready to help.
"Now? I didn't think we'd be performing it now!" Giles exclaimed, standing up.
"Why not now?" Wesley asked. "He's here, we've got the spell ready. Better now than later."
"Has anyone asked me if I want this done?" Angel asked petulantly.
"No." Cordelia told him. "But you're getting it done. I want my boss back." Angel's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing.
"Right, then. Shall we?" Giles suggested.
Shall I continue? Or should I just give up?
Please review.
Spoilers: This was written about half way through season one ATS, so anything prior to that.
Authors Note: No malice is intended towards those that are mentally and physically disabled. I'd been watching 12 Monkeys and Patch Adams when this idea came to me. I know that these illnesses are debilitating and serious. Okay, now that I've got that understood (I hope) please R&R.
Rating: And those under 17 can still read without fear (PG)
Chapter 4
Whether it was Buffy's commandment or the trick of luck Angel didn't know, but his dreams were much nicer. Softer. Most importantly, there was no blood. Just images of sunlight, a younger Buffy and a thin woman with long brown hair. And most importantly, there was laughter and kindness. Not just towards him, but from him, given to the two women. And several others, none of which he recognised. He woke up the next morning feeling relaxed and excited.
They were waiting for him after he'd had breakfast. Cereal and milk, as always. He wondered if normal people ate breakfasts like they do on TV. Fruit and bacon and eggs and toast. He'd find out soon enough. Mr D came up to him, while he was still sitting down, sipping his orange juice.
"It's time, John." He was told. He stood up and looked at Mr D.
"What is your name?" He asked, having not heard it once in the six months he'd been in the ward.
"Daniel." The nurse replied.
"Daniel, my name is Angel. Not John." Daniel stopped for a second, then nodded.
"Good luck then, Angel. This way." Angel followed, waving quietly to the others. Daniel led him towards the door, then opened it and took him outside. Miss Bronson waved, busy talking on the phone. It felt cold and stark outside the ward. Daniel led him down the same corridor that Buffy had used before, turning right at the end. Another set of doors were just beyond the turn, and Daniel punched in some numbers and swiped his card, opening the door and stepping back. Angel hesitated, unsure.
"Go on, Angel. They're on the otherside waiting for you." He walked through and almost jumped when the door shut behind him. He saw what he thought was a waiting room just up a head. The chairs were placed in well ordered rows, and there was Buffy and Giles sitting in two of them. He walked forward, his heart beating strongly in his chest. He was happy to be out of the ward, but scared at the same time. It was all he knew. All he remembered. Buffy looked up as he walked in, and then stood up quickly. Giles stood up after her, and stared. Angel had been given some different clothes to wear this morning. Black slacks and a sloppy dark grey jumper. No shirt. It felt...right. Buffy smiled at him.
"What?" He asked her, feeling uncomfortable. He'd gotten used to the clothes he'd been given in the ward. Grey sweat pants and jumper, with a white top underneath.
"You just look like....you. Now. I brought those in yesterday, so that you could wear them when you left. They're your clothes, Angel. All we need to do is cut your hair again."
"It's bad?" He asked, hand going up to it.
"No, it's just not how you wear it, normally. But we'll do that later. Let's get you back home."
"Home?" He felt like he should go back inside. He'd not said anything remotely intelligent since he walked out of that door.
"Yes, home." Giles spoke for the first time. "Let's go." He walked ahead, giving Angel and Buffy time to follow. The car park downstairs was very quiet. It was still early in the morning, and the usual visiting crowd had not come yet. Angel looked back up towards the fifth floor. His floor. He saw a face peering out of one of the windows, and waved up. Whoever it was waved back. The car was parked on the other side of the car park. Out of the shadow of the building. Angel followed Buffy and Giles towards the car, then stopped suddenly, just before the sunlight touched the tarmac. Buffy noticed he wasn't following after a few steps and turned back.
"Angel?" Then she saw where he'd stopped. "Oh." He looked up at her, confused.
"I....I don't want to step forward. I'm scared. Why am I so scared of the sunlight?" He was worried that he really would have to go back into the ward. Buffy walked towards him, Giles standing just beside the car.
"Angel, it's okay. There is a reason why you're scared of the sunlight. But you don't need to be anymore. Look, put your hand on my shoulder." She stepped forward, just into the shadow of the building. Angel did as he was told, putting his hand on her shoulder. She stepped back, extending his arm. His hand was now in the sunlight. He felt the warmth wash over his palm. She stepped back again, and he stepped forward with her. Now his arm was in sunlight. Once more she stepped back, and once more he followed. He was now standing in direct light. His whole body bathed in the natural warming globe. He held his breath, waiting for something. What ever it was it never happened, and he breathed a very deep, relieved breath.
"Okay?" She asked him after a moment. He nodded. "I'll tell you why-"
"Later?" He asked, a small smile on his face.
"Later." She agreed.
Giles pulled up at a small apartment block about an hour later. The drive had been interesting, familiar. Angel knew that he'd been here before.
"My home?" He asked.
"Not quite. This is where Cordelia lives." Buffy told him, unbuckling and opening the door at the same time. The name Cordelia brought a flash of memory. She was sitting down, laughing with him, with a window full of lights behind her.
"Angel? Shall we go in now?" Buffy asked him, standing with Giles. Angel nodded and walked with them up the stairs. Giles knocked on one of the doors, which opened almost immediately.
"Thank you, Dennis." Giles said, entering the house. Buffy followed, with Angel a step behind. His heart had sped up, and he was breathing in short gasps. Giles noticed.
"It's okay, Angel." Giles said, coming forward. "Try not to get worked up. Have a seat, we'll bring you some tea." Angel sat down on one of the couches, then noticed that there were a couple of other people with him. Willow, he'd met a few days ago. The others must be his friends. The brunette was familiar, he'd seen her in the flashes he was getting. The two men, he didn't recognise.
"You're Cordelia." He said, pointing at the brunette. She smiled, delighted that he'd recognised her. "You're Willow. But I don't....I can't...."
"My name is Wesley Windam-Price, Angel. This is Alexander Harris. We both knew you before you lost your memory."
"Wes and Xander." Angel said, looking at the both.
"Yes, you called me Wes. Do you remember?" Wesley asked, leaning forward.
"No. Just the name Wes." He looked at Buffy, a little worried. She'd sat down beside him.
"It's okay, Angel. You'll remember, just give it time." Giles walked in with a tray of tea, and handed him a cup. He sipped, letting the hot drink calm him.
"Is it later yet?" He asked, looking at the others watching him. He felt that they were restraining themselves, had been told to hold back because he couldn't remember them.
"Later?" Cordelia asked.
"Well, we haven't told him his history yet, we thought we'd leave that for today - when we didn't have the other people surrounding him." Buffy explained quickly.
"Good idea." Wesley approved.
"Thanks." Giles said dryly. "I suppose it is later." There was a long silence as they all thought how to explain to Angel his life.
"Um....Angel." Willow caught his attention. "Do you believe in the supernatural. Like witches. Demons. Vampires. Things like that?"
"Why?" He saw her about to get annoyed with him and held up his hands. "Okay, I'll answer it." He thought for a few seconds. "I suppose. I don't disbelieve, anyway. Hell, how am I supposed to know? It seems to me, I'd be that last person you'd ask that question."
"There is a reason." Buffy told him, sitting forward. "They do exist, Angel. Demons, witches, vampires. They all are very real, and some of them are very dangerous. My job. Our job was to fight them. I'm known as the Slayer." A flash of bright memory flickered through his mind. Buffy fighting with some grossly figured man. At that point, Buffy held up the crayon picture he'd drawn the day before.
"Angel, this is a vampire. You drew it yesterday, remember? Your subconscious was trying to tell you something."
"You fight vampires?" He asked, making sure he understood.
"We both do. And anything else of the evil variety that may pop up. Generally it's vampires for me. You used to take care of a lot of the demons that live in LA. You, Wes and Cordelia."
"Okay." Angel said slowly. "What happens if I say, you're mad!?" He asked, getting up and looking at them all. They were all very serious, and looked at him with pity and understanding.
"I'd say, we're not. It's just a part of the world that most people try not to see. How about we give you some proof of witchcraft, at least? Would that help you?" Buffy asked, still sitting down.
"Sure! Why not! Go on, turn me into a frog!" He stood still, waiting.
"This is different." Xander commented.
"What?" Angel asked him, glaring.
"Well, before, it used to be you, telling us about the demons that were coming. You knew they existed because you were a vamp-"
"Xander!" Buffy, Willow and Giles cried out at once.
"What?" Angel demanded, getting a cold shiver down his spine. He heard Buffy growl low in her throat, then she turned to face him.
"Not that way I wanted to get you to remember, but here it is. You were born around the year 1750 - over two hundred years ago. You were made into a vampire by your sire, Darla. You were cursed over 80 years ago by a gypsy troupe after you'd killed one of their daughters. You got a soul. That's when you started to help people, and fight evil."
"I'm a vampire? And I'm two hundred and change years old?" He started to smile, then laugh. He noticed that on one was laughing with him. He stopped, suddenly cold.
"This isn't funny, is it?" He asked them all. They shook their heads. "You really believe this, don't you?" They nodded. "Shit." He sat down again, thinking that he wasn't the only one who needed to see a shrink.
"Angel, think about the dreams you were having. The picture you drew. Your fear of sunlight this morning." Giles told him quietly.
"But I can walk in the sunlight! From what I can remember of vampire folk-lore, they can't. So how can I be one?"
"You were one up until about 8 months ago. The PTB gave you back your humanity as a reward for services rendered." Wesley told him.
"Convenient." He said shortly.
"How about some proof?" Willow asked him. "Not about the vampire, but about the other stuff?" He gestured, as if to say, go ahead. She did so, chanting softly. After a few seconds, she held out her hand and a blue flame appeared in the middle of her palm. She closed her hand, the flame disappeared. She then opened her eyes and started another chant. She pointed at the lamp on the table beside him. He watched as it melted slowly, and formed a pool of melted ceramic and plastic. It then reformed slowly, reversing the melting process.
"Oh." He mutters softly. A book flew through the air towards him suddenly, and he jumped back, stunned. It landed gently on his lap and the pages started flicking over, quickly.
"Willow? You can stop now." Angel told her, believing.
"That's not me. It's Phantom Dennis." The pages stopped turning
"Phantom Dennis. Let me guess, a ghost?" The others nodded. "Right."
"Read what he's put in front of you." Buffy suggested. Angel looked down at the book on his lap, and started reading.
"Watcher Diary, July 1857. Angelus and Darla were seen in Bombay earlier this month. After following several leads, I found proof of their occupation of the city in a small underground apartment. They had been there for some time, if the bodies buried in the area behind the apartment were any indication. However, this nest appeared to be extremely old, and it is possible that it has been used by several vampires throughout the last fifty years. My Slayer, Charlotte is keen to follow the two, however, I would like to study their habits first. It should give us insight into their behaviour. These two in particular seem to enjoy death. I fear for Charlotte, I must admit. Angelus has a reputation." He looked up at the others, after reading this entry.
"Angelus? Why does that feel familiar."
"It's you. Or rather, you when you were a vampire. You shortened your name when you gained a soul. You are now Angel. Keep reading."
"Watcher Diary, March 1900. We have followed Angelus to Los Angeles. I have been following him for several months now. I have been trying to complete what Watcher Anthony started fifty years ago, but this creature is illusive and dangerous. I have already lost both of my assistants to him. Marissa is with me again, after leaving to destroy the nest of vampires in Mexico. She is watching, studying the creature they call Angelus. He truly does have the face of an Angel. I am afraid for her. Angelus killed Charlotte, Anthony's slayer. What will he do with Marissa?
Watcher Diary, August 1900. The earthquake has destroyed Los Angeles. What was left of the city is now a battlefield for the living. Angelus and his sire, Darla, are rampaging through the city. From what I can see, when I do manage to follow them, they are killing indiscriminately, not even hiding their demon visage from the populous. Marissa has gone now. Not as I feared, but by her own hand. She was crippled in the quake, after a building fell on her. She told me that the world needed the next Slayer, and while she lay crippled, the next one would not come. She died bravely. The new Slayer has not arrived yet, and I fear it may be too late for us to stop Angelus. He's looking ready to leave again. My contacts tell me it's likely to be Prussia, or Romania. I will continue to watch until then.
Watcher Diary, May 1920. Continued searching has failed to come up with any leads on Angelus. He was last seen in Romania with his sire, Darla. Since that time, he has disappeared from view, and the Council resources have failed to come up with a location for the vampire."
"That was when you were cursed with a soul again." Buffy told him when he stopped reading. "You used the name Angelus because when you first rose, you visited your house, and your sister called you an Angel, and invited you in."
"I remember her." He said softly, seeing a young girl looking up at him, her eyes bright with wonder. Then her eyes dimming as he....killed her. His heart turned over and then started aching with remembered pain. He looked up at Buffy, tears of pain in his eyes. "I remember killing her. Enjoying it. And my mother. And father. Oh GOD!" He shoved up from the chair and started pacing, trying to get away from the memories. If this was what he was like, he didn't want to remember. Without warning, he was seeing hundreds of people, all of them dying or dead, and knew he'd killed them. He lashed out at the wall closest to him, punching it as hard as he could. Then he stopped, stunned, looking at his hand. It had penetrated the wall and the brick behind it, and was embedded up to his elbow. Buffy came up to him and helped him remove his arm.
"That was the other thing that we forgot to tell you. When you were made human by the Powers That Be, they left your strength. You're now much stronger than a normal human. Like me." He was studying his hand, flexing it, noticing that it didn't hurt. Then he processed what she'd just said.
"Like you? What do you mean?"
"I'm the slayer, Angel. I am preternaturally strong. Like Superman. But not an alien. And I don't have an ice palace."
"Oh.... Huh?" He was frowning. Buffy shook her head, annoyed with herself.
"I keep forgetting that you don't remember anything. The Slayer is a girl born in every generation. Chosen to protect the public from vampires and demons etcetera etcetera. To help with this, we're extremely strong, and we heal fast."
"Slayer. The diaries mentioned a slayer."
"That's right. We've been around since before time began. Every time one of us dies, another is called."
"And you fight?"
"Demons. Vampires. Bad guys. Basically we fight evil."
"We?"
"We. When I'd just started out, you helped me. For three years, we fought together, learning from each other."
"We fought each other?"
"Just for a while. About 6 months, when you turned bad again."
"I turned....No, I don't want to know." He paused for a few moments, gathering himself. "If what you say is true." He looked at the hole in the wall. "And it seems to me that I can't really argue with what you've shown me, then what happened to me? Why did I loose my memory?" He looked around the room, staring at each one of them. "What happened?"
"That's what we're going to find out." Wesley said, getting up off the couch.
"How?" Xander asked.
"We have an idea." Cordelia admitted. "Wesley was sort of hoping that Willow would be able to help."
"Me?" Willow was stunned. "Why would you need my help?"
"To perform a spell to help him remember." Wesley told her. "We've researched, and we think we've found one, but it takes three with the power to perform it. That's you, Giles and myself."
"Oh. That sounds like a plan." Willow jumped up, ready to help.
"Now? I didn't think we'd be performing it now!" Giles exclaimed, standing up.
"Why not now?" Wesley asked. "He's here, we've got the spell ready. Better now than later."
"Has anyone asked me if I want this done?" Angel asked petulantly.
"No." Cordelia told him. "But you're getting it done. I want my boss back." Angel's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing.
"Right, then. Shall we?" Giles suggested.
Shall I continue? Or should I just give up?
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