Disclaimer: They belong to the WB etc.

Summary: Okay this is the second chapter, we're still taking a little look see at Angel's relationships with his father and sister back in the day, and seeing how everyone is dealing now that Angel has been back on land for two months.

Cordy's still missing, Lorne is still in Vegas, Connor has learned the truth, and Angel and Wesley have started to patch things up. To learn more, read the damn story. Enjoy!



Chapter 3

Galway, 1753.

Jim had found Liam unconscious in the gutter, and had very nearly decided to leave him there. The sight of his own son passed out in the street after a night of God only knew what had made him sick to the stomach.

He'd picked the boy up off the street and driven home with him, trying to decide how to deal with him when he woke. In a state of sleep Liam looked young and vulnerable, but it could not be denied that Liam had gone out looking for trouble, and to judge from the empty purse and the bruise forming around the boy's left eye, he had found it.

When Jim arrived at the house with Liam in his arms, his mother had fussed over him, tucking him into bed and looking closely at his eye, which was turning purple. She'd stroked his hair as if he were still a child before telling Jim they didn't need to call a healer in. Liam would wake with aches and pains, but he would heal without aid.

Liam had woken an hour later in obvious discomfort, vaguely complaining about John Ackerby's left hook, and effectively dispelling any notion that he might have been attacked. Jim knew Ackerby. He was one of Liam's more irritating drinking companions. The black eye had been obtained in a bar fight. The money wasted of ale and woman.

Jim had told Liam to get himself cleaned up and meet him in the dining room. Liam's head had snapped up, his gaze suddenly clear. Something in Jim's tone had made the boy afraid.

Now they sat across from one another at the dining table.

The sound of Anna humming to herself in the laundry intruded a little on the silence.

Jim had opened all the windows, and felt a perverted sort of satisfaction when he noticed Liam squinting. The light was hurting the boy's eyes.

Jim had also noticed that while most of the dishes had been cleared after breakfast, Liam's perfectly made place at the table had not been touched.

Liam had noticed it too. He was looking at it with an odd expression.

"So," Jim began. "Another night of drinkin', and whorin'!" His disgust was apparent, as was his frustration.

It was the way many arguments between father and son had begun. Jim would let Liam know exactly what he thought of the boy's habits, and Liam would act as though his father were a tyrant, taking the defensive and playing the victim. It made Jim insane.

Liam continued to look at the clean plate. "Father," he began in a low quavering voice.

"No excuses Liam." said Jim, in a voice just as low. "We're not here to listen to your excuses. We're here so that I can set down a punishment."

This took a moment to register with Liam, but when it did he looked at his father in surprise. He hadn't expected that. He was twenty six years old. Set punishments were a thing of the past.

"You don't think I'm a little old to be slapped across the wrist with a ruler father?"

The sarcastic tone fuelled Jims anger even further, and his voice rose as his emotions began to get the better of him.

"I think that you live in my house. I think that as long as you're livin' off funds that I earn honestly while you spend your days sleepin' and nights drinkin' that you will accept any punishment I see fit!"

"Is that so Father?" the question was almost a threat.

"Oh it's so Liam. Beginning this moment! I want you out in the stables! I expect them to be mucked out and swept by the time I return this evenin'."

Jim watched his son, awaiting a response.

Liam was apparently lost for words though, because he was simply staring at the table and seething in his chair.

"Where are you going?" he finally asked in a nasty fashion.

"Business meeting."

And Jim rose from the table in disgust, walking from the room with a straight back and squared shoulders, leaving Liam to seeth, and gingerly touch his swelling eye.

The talk had been shorter than Liam had expected it to be. Some days the shouting could go on for hours.

The punishment was unexpected though. Usually the berating was punishment enough.

He leaned back in his chair, letting his head spin slowly with the movement and groaning in pain. He wasn't sure which was worse. The hangover or the black eye. He decided to close all the curtains, and stood up to do so.

"I'll help you Liam," came a quite voice from the hall. So quiet that the words did not hurt his ears the way his father's had. Liam smiled and laughed slightly as the tension in him began to fade. She really was an angel.

"You were listenin' to all that then?" he asked.

Katherine padded into the room and took her father's chair. "Yes." She looked at him with wide eyes. "And I'll help you with the stables. We can be like captives of an evil army. We can be forced to work live slaves, and plot our escape! Then we can fight our way across the world to return to our homeland. Live happily ever after."

She looked at her brother hopefully. It was a scenario from a tale Liam had invented for her three years ago. He was impressed with her memory. His smile turned sad.

"What if it's home you wish to escape from?" he asked.



L.A. 2002.

"You hear that?"

"They're trainin' again."

"This is good huh. Angel's loosening up. I thought he'd never stop with all them rules he was settin' down."

Gunn glanced at his girlfriend for conformation.

"They're making friends," she said, eyes sparkling. "They've got hylufsion."

Gunn's brows shot up.

"Hylufsion?"

"Pylean word for male bonding between relatives and soldiers."

"Oh," he said, shaking his head in amusement. Pyleans had words for everything.

"They're coming!" she cried suddenly.

"Quick! Act like we weren't talkin' about 'em!"

"Charles, we were talking about them."

"So?"

He dragged her over to the couch.

Angel came up the basement stairs, looking tired and sweating slightly. Fred and Gunn quickly switched the TV on and snuggled together. Angel stopped and looked at them suspiciously.

"Why are you guys watching Sesame Street?"

Gunn looked horrified as he realized that he was watching Supergrover. Fred laughed and gave Angel a guilty look.

"We were tryin' to cover up that we were talkin' about ya," she said honestly. She looked so adorable that Angel couldn't help but be amused. Sounds of Connor beating the crap out of the punching bag floated up from downstairs. Angel smiled.

"About me and Connor?"

"Yeah." Fred replied. "We were kinda worried for a bit. I mean we were so glad to have you back an' all when you turned up here lookin' all thin and scary, and we thought you and Connor would, you know, pick up from where ya left off, and then you put all these rules on him, and we didn't get why, but now your all hylufsiony, and we were sayin' that . . . well, you're good now. You're training him!"

Angel stared at her, then turned to look at Gunn.

"We're happy you guys are bonding," Gunn translated.

Angel took a moment to absorb that, then he smiled.

"Yeah, well I'm happy about it too," he said seriously. He sat down on the couch next to Fred, picked up the remote and switched off Supergrover. "We're really getting along. I mean it's been hard but . . ." he trailed off, staring at the blank Tv screen. Then he noticed that Fred and Gunn were looking at him, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

"I just came up to get a snack," he said quickly. " For Connor. Well obviously for Conner. I don't eat." Gunn nodded.

Angel got up and walked in the direction of the kitchen, glancing around the lobby as he went. His gaze flicked to the phone and the stacks of business cards. He stopped and turned back to Fred and Gunn.

"So no one's called?" he asked, "No one needs saving?" Fred shook her head. Angel looked disappointed.

"Too bad," he said, "I think Connor's ready to go out. I mean we've been training a few weeks now and he's getting really good."

Fred and Gunn shared a glance,"

"I think he was ready to fight demons before you started training him," said Fred, giving Angel a funny look. Angel pointedly ignored it. Fred looked down into her lap.

Gunn looked depressed.

"No calls," he said "Funds are dryin' up man. Without our connection to the powers . . " seeing the sudden sadness on Angel's face he stopped speaking.

Awkward silence descended upon the three, and soon became oppressive. Cordelia's disappearance was something they didn't discuss much.

Fred remembered Angel's reaction when he had first heard about her disappearance. It had been almost too much for him to handle after his time in the sea. He hadn't actually said anything for a long moment, but Fred had noticed the tears forming in his eyes. Then he had asked to be left alone for a while, and while Fred and Gunn had been reluctant to leave him alone, knowing that he'd spent the last three months completely alone, they had obeyed him, not wanting to upset him further, and not knowing what they could possibly say to ease the pain. Angel had been through more in the last five months than any man should have to endure in a lifetime.

Angel shifted uncomfortably.

"We'll find her." he stated. "Wesley's on it." But it was obvious to the others that Angel was forcing himself to believe it.

It had been Wesley's skill with books that had been the deciding factor in hiring the ex-watcher. Angel had not forgiven his old friend for anything, but knowing that Wesley had expertise that could lead to finding Cordelia, Angel had been convinced to give him a second chance, much to Fred's relief. But while Angel's blind anger with Wesley had subsided, the two were not making leaps and bounds in the direction of reconciliation. Fred hoped that time would heal the wound. She hoped that Wesley would find Cordelia, perhaps earning redemption in Angel's eyes.

After all, Angel himself was on a quest for redemption every day.

Fred looked down at her hands. She missed Cordelia horribly. Maybe not as horribly as Angel did, but losing her only female friend was still a terrible thing. Cordelia had been something of a role model, and despite being a few years younger than Fred, like an older sister.

Fred hoped that Cordelia was okay, wherever she was, but her hopes that the seer would return were fading with each passing day. Some days would go by when she didn't even think about her lost friend. At the ends of those days she would feel guilty.

But she never gave up hoping completely. Cordelia was a survivor. And sometimes people showed up after being presumed dead for long periods of time. After all, Fred herself had come back to earth after being missing for five years. And Angel, he had returned to them after a mysterious three month absence.

Fred remembered the day he had shown up at the Hyperion. She'd recognized him immediately, and had let out a horrified scream. He had been like a shadow of himself. She had actually been able to see his bones through his skin. The well built "hansom man" who had saved her from the demons in Pylea had been replaced by a sodden skeleton, with liquid brown eyes begging for help.

She, Gunn and Connor had all been hanging out in the lobby with the hope that a client might call and need their help. When Fred had screamed Gunn had reacted before he'd recognized the frail vampire, and had moved into attack mode, threatening Angel with a crossbow he'd been absently playing with before the vampire had arrived.

It was at that point that Angel had collapsed.

"It's Angel!" Fred had cried, making Gunn throw his crossbow to the side so he could roll the vampire over to get a better look at his face. Recognition had dawned. Gunn had looked ill.

He had directed Fred to go to the butcher for some fresh blood, then carried Angel up to his room, with frighteningly little effort.

Fred had returned half an hour later with the blood to find Connor pacing outside Angel's bedroom door with shaking hands and a paper white face.

Fred had watched him for a moment in pity.

"He's gonna be okay." Fred had assured him, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. He must have heard the quaver in her voice though, because the look he'd given her had been one of fear.

Once they'd gotten a little blood into him, Angel had been able to relate the tale of how he had been captured by Justine. She'd caught him by surprise he'd said.

He had told them of his time in the ocean with no inflection, the horror of the tale reflected in Fred and Gunn's faces, rather than in his own. At least Gunn had looked how Fred had felt. Nauseous.

The search for Justine was ongoing.

But the fact was, that after all that had happened, fate had found a way to bring Angel back to them. So Fred held out a little hope that Cordy would also return. Hopefully someday soon.

"We'll find her." Angel repeated. This time with more conviction.



Chapter 4

Galway, 1753

Liam took a heroic drink of water, straight from the bucket he'd just pulled out of the well. As soon as his headache was gone he'd help Katherine out with the stables.

Katherine was having a grand time. Being eight years old and female she was never expected to do such undignified work, and the novelty had yet to wear off.

She was covered in dirt, and had hay sticking out of her hair at all angles, and Liam suspected that she would stink horribly. He wasn't standing close enough to make that judgment with certainty though.

"Help me Liam!" she called out, giggling.

"I am helpin'! I'm seein' that you're doin' it correctly," he shouted happily across the yard. Then he winced at the pain in his head.

"Liam! You monster!"

She pretended to become angry and tried to throw dirty hay at him, but the wind was blowing in the wrong direction and it hit her in the face instead.

Liam almost doubled over laughing.

"Help me! This is your punishment Liam!"

"Yes I'm helpin'," he muttered, setting the bucket down and wrinkling his nose.

He walked across the yard to the stables and picked up a shovel. Disdainfully he used it to raise a pile of manure from ground, then threw it into the barrow, narrowly missing Katherine's head..

"Don't hit me with it!"

"I'm not," he said quickly.

She looked down at her dress in a critical way.

"Mother's going to be angry when she sees me in this mess. Don't make it worse Liam."

He stopped shoveling and looked at her seriously.

"Don't listen to Mother, you always look beautiful."

She beamed at him.

"Like a princess from Egypt?"

"Yes like that."

He turned to continue with the work, but stopped when she spoke again.

"Liam?" she asked in a solemn tone.

"Yes?" he asked, nervously.

He wondered what she would say. She'd never looked so sad!

"Don't go out drinkin' tonight." She blurted. "Stay with me like you used to when I was little."

Liam laughed. He thought she was still little.

"Read me the end of the book," she finished.

He considered for a moment.

"Alright then," he said. He couldn't say no to her. Such an adorable little mud covered child with eyes like those. Eyes just like his own he realized with a small shock, "I'll stay in with you tonight."

"Thank-you."


L.A 2002

Wesley was late.

Connor tapped his pen on the table.

Angel looked at his watch.

"Just go over your notes again," he said, "He'll be here soon."

Connor felt like rolling his eyes, but didn't. The last few weeks had been good. He didn't want to do anything to jeopardize this new relationship, and Angel seemed to think that these classes were important. He dutifully went back to his notes. European history. He looked closely at a diagram.

"1790," he muttered.

"What's that?" asked Angel, looking up from the pile of records he was trying to sort through. Connor had the impression that Cordelia's filing habits had been terrible. Angel had spent the last three hours trying to make sense of her notes.

Connor also had the impression that Angel had volunteered to sort out the filing cabinet because he wanted to do something that reminded him of the missing seer. It was half comfort, and half self indulgent pity. Angel was missing Cordy.

An hour earlier Connor had been fighting a mad urge to snatch the files away from his father. He had begun to understand that Angel's nature was as obsessive, as Holtz's had been. He didn't want to lose a second father to an obsession, and Angel was obsessing over Cordelia's absence.

"It's a picture of a party that happened in the seventeen hundreds," he said. "Did women really wear these clothes? I'm surprised they could move at all in dresses like these."

Angel laughed, "They could move," he said. "There are parts of Europe where the climate is very cold. That's why the gowns are so large. Also it was fashionable at the time."

"The men can move in their clothing. And they do not look so ridiculous."

Angel thought for a moment.

"Well I guess fashion has a lot to answer for." he said thoughtfully. "But don't you think the dresses look nice on them?"

"I guess."

The conversation was cut short as Wesley crashed through the front doors.

His hair was a tousled mess, his glasses were crooked, there were bags under his eyes, and he was speaking rapidly.

"I'm sorry Connor we can't have a lesson today, something's come up I'm afraid, very important. I need to speak to your father, is he about?"

He was breathing heavily, as if he'd just run from his car.

Connor just gestured toward Angel with a look. It was not surprising that Wesley had missed Angel's presence. The vampire had ceased moving when the tutor had entered the room, and his ability to blend into the wall could be astonishing.

Wesley gasped in surprise as he noticed Angel. Angel fixed the ex-watcher with an even stare. Connor squirmed. The tension between these two was intense.

Wesley just stared for a moment, very put out.

"You found something?" Angel asked at last, his tone revealing his hope, even if his expression did not.

Wesley must have noticed because he relaxed a little as he nodded.

Angel raised his eyebrows in a 'well okay get on with it' kind of way.

"I don't know for certain," he said, obviously trying to weigh Angel's hopes, which Connor thought was strange because Angel hadn't shown many.

Oh well, Wesley had known the vampire longer.

Angel nodded for him to continue.

"I began my research by looking into mysterious and sudden disappearances. The circumstances under which Cordelia disappeared, the empty car on the freeway, suggest that it was a mystical dissapearance rather than a more mundane kidnapping or some such, but as that research seemed to be leading nowhere, I turned to the Niazian scrolls."

"The same ones that predicted I would kill Connor?" Angel asked with dark skepticism.

Connor's head snapped up. "What?!" The familiar feeling of distrust for Angel flooded back.

"That prophecy was planted!" said Wesley quickly, looking alarmed.

"If Sahjahn changed that prophecy he could have altered other things on those scrolls." Angel pointed out. "We can't rely on what they say."

"Whose Sahjahn?!" Connor demanded.

"A demon," answered Wesley.

"We'll talk about it later Connor I just need to hear what Wesley found out." said Angel urgently.

Connor leaned back in his chair, looking defiant but saying nothing.

Angel sensed the trust they had built up slipping away and vowed to talk with the boy as soon as possible, after Wesley told what he knew.

"I know the scrolls are not completely reliable," said Wesley humbly. "I learned that lesson the hard way," he continued, with a meaningful look at Angel, and a glance at Connor that Connor could not interpret. "I merely thought they could be used as a starting point. I was wondering if Cordelia's disappearance was connected with Connor's appearance."

"I had nothing to do with it!" Connor cried, looking suddenly distressed. He didn't need Wesley putting that idea in his father's head. Alone of all who worked at Angel investigations, was Angel aware of what Connor was capable of. Connor could understand how Angel might assume that Connor had done something to Cordelia to punish Angel for killing Holtz.

"I know you didn't." Angel responded firmly, meeting Connor's gaze with a look to show he meant it.

Wesley was looking at Connor in surprise.

"I just thought the two events might be connected, not that you had something to do with it. I'd assume you'd tell us if you knew something."

Connor felt embarrassed.

"Anyway," Wesley continued, looking at Angel, "I discovered that there is a reference something called a 'tefson'."

"Tefson?"

"It means an alteration of time."

"Like what Sahjhan did?"

"Perhaps,"

"Perhaps?"

"Well, there is more work to be done on the translation, and it's not clear on several points . . . "

"So how is this connected to Cordelia?"

Wesley's face became animated, despite the fact that he had just been interrupted, "I believe that it is related for two reasons," he said, and began counting on his fingers, "One, because the 'tefson' was prophesized to happen at the same time that you were supposed to be sinking into the ocean,"

"Wait, the coffin in the sea thing was mentioned in the scrolls?" Angel asked.

Connor looked alarmed again, but kept his mouth shut this time.

"Yes. I managed to translate that part last night. A little late I'm afraid." Wesley looked uncomfortable and shifted on his feet.

"So the timing of its right. What's reason number two?" Angel prompted, forgetting the coffin and focusing on Cordelia again.

"Ah, yes. Two, because everything about Cordelia's disappearance points to it being very sudden. As if some force came down and took her to another dimension, or another plane of existence, or in this case, another place in time."

"So what kind of demon would have the power to do something like that?" asked Angel, Sahjahn?"

"Who's Sahjahn?" Connor muttered quietly to himself.

"Not Sahjahn." Wesley replied, ignoring Connor. "His powers allowed him to travel through time, not to take others with him. In fact I'm not convinced it was a demon at all. The only beings I know with that kind of power . . ."

"Are the powers that be," Angel finished.

"Of course there are other possibilities but . . "

"Why would they take her away from me?" Angel asked meekly.

"I don't know." Wesley replied sympathetically. "But I think it might be time you had contact with them again. The address Lorne gave you on Cordelia's birthday last year?"

"Yeah. I'll go now."

"And I'll go home to the scrolls. See if I can find anything more specific."

"Good."

There was an awkward pause, then Wesley left in a hurry.

Connor recognized the style of exit. It was the same one Wesley had been using to escape the Hyperion before Angel woke up on a normal day.

"I'd better get going," Angel said, standing up and glancing down at Cordelia's files. Then he looked closely at his son, "Look . . . Connor I know a lot of issues have been raised here. And we need to talk. But right now I need to talk to the powers and . . "

"What else do you think is in those scrolls?" Connor interrupted.

Angel sighed, "I don't know."

"Things about me?"

Connor looked at his father nervously. What if Wesley found out what Connor had done? He didn't know if he could withstand that. Angel was looking anxious.

"What?" asked Connor.

"Why does Wesley have the scrolls?" Angel wondered out loud.

Connor looked confused, "Why wouldn't he?"

"Last I heard they were locked away in Wolfram and Hart."

Connor let this sink in, then turned to look at the door Wesley had gone through.

There was more to Wesley Windham-Price than met the eye.

TBC

Thanks for some nice reviews. Keep 'em coming. I'll try to have the next chapter up soon.