Author's Notes:
Hey all, sorry it's taken so long, I got a litlte writers block. Anyways, hope you like and I'd like to say thank you to all my reviewers, you guys are what keep me writing so review me some more if u like this :)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"So, looks like I've missed a few changes while I was gone." Doyle said, leaning against the doorway to Angel's room. Angel sighed out a breath he didn't need, closing his eyes briefly before raising his gaze to meet Doyle's. The vampire's dark stare was even broodier than Doyle remembered and more pain filled than ever.
"He took my son Doyle. I wish he would die. I wish he would die and suffer a million years of torment in a worse dimension of hell than I was in. I wish I could send him there myself." Angel stated, in such a calm, matter of fact tone that it sent a frisson of fear up Doyle's spine.
"What happened man?" The ex-seer asked, stepping into the room. " How did Connor get to be in Quor-toth? Why did this Wesley fella take him to Holtz? When Skip told me you had a son, I thought he was a complication of that day you were human, then he told me Connor was your sire's. But Darla's dead man, you told me you staked her yourself." Doyle paused in his uncharacteristic ramblings to watch as Connor shifted in his daddy's arms and let out a small burp, drawing a rare full fledged smile from the dark vampire. Angel shifted his son a little before taking an unneeded breath.
"It's a long story Doyle." He murmured. "A very long story."
"Hi, we're looking for a patient who was admitted recently," Fred drawled, nervously twining a lock of hair around her index finger.
The nurse at the check in desk glanced up lazily. "Name?" She asked in a monotone.
"Wesley Wyndham Pryce." Gunn answered, stepping up next to her.
Cordelia stood a few feet away, arms wrapped around her middle chewing her lower lip anxiously. God she was cold, the dash from the truck to the hospital doors had all but soaked her and the near freezing air conditioning of the hospital wasn't helping any.
"You'd think they wouldn't want to give their patients hypothermia on top of everything else." She grumbled to herself, pacing anxiously back and forth across the gross linoleum while Gunn and Fred got the information they needed.
"He's in 452." Gunn's hand on her shoulder halting her pacing. Cordelia jumped at the contact and seemed about to launch into a tirade before she got ahold of herself and flashed him a weak smile.
"Three doors down from his last room." Fred murmured as they all got into the elevator.
Gunn slipped an arm around her waist and drew her against him. "It'll be okay baby." He murmured into her ear.
Cordy almost choked on the surge of jealousy that shot up when she looked at them, how come she was always the one in charge. No one ever took care of her and called her baby.
The elevator doors dinged open and they were almost immediately met by a man in blue scrubs.
"Dr. Peter Benton?" Gunn asked.
"Mr. Angel." He replied tersely.
"Uh, no. Angel...he couldn't be here. I'm Cordelia Chase." Cordy stepped forward and shook hands with him.
"Do you want to sit down?" The doctor asked, gesturing at a row of plastic chairs that Fred was really beginning to hate. Cordy nodded and sank gratefully into one while Gunn and Fred stood a few feet away as the doctor began to explain Wesley's condition.
"Do you happen to know if he's a drug user?"
"What?!" Cordy's voice was outraged. "No, of course not. Why?"
"There was a substantial amount of quacylinochloride in his blood stream. It's a drug commonly found in PCP, and can cause mania, paranoia and depression without the backup of the other drugs found in PCP." Peter explained while Fred's eyes began to widen. Leaning up she whispered hastily into Charles' ear.
Cordy eyed the two while listening to what Dr. Benton was saying, feeling her heart sink. Wesley was in pretty bad shape, if he lived through the morning then there was hope but the next six hours were critical there was some internal bleeding and his spleen needed to be removed before it burst.
She signed form after form blankly, barely glancing at the type, Gunn sitting solemnly next to her, Fred having disappeared a little while after Dr. Benton had left them. She handed the nurse the last one and slumped into her chair, leaning her head against the wall behind her.
"Where's Fred?" She finally asked Gunn some time later.
"Said she had an idea, that she'd be back soon."
"Oh." Was Cordy's monosyllabic reply.
"So here we are again." Charles noted.
"Huh?"
"Sitting in the waiting room, hoping Wes doesn't die. Actually I'm not sure if I am hoping that this time."
"Don't you start too Charles Gunn!" Cordelia exclaimed, sitting up, eyes flashing.
"Tell me you're not at least twice as mad as I am at him for taking Connor, Cordelia." Gunn challenged.
Cordy remained silent, head lolling forward, chin coming to rest on her chest.
"I don't want him to die." She whispered after a few minutes had gone by.
"Neither do I." Gunn admitted reluctantly, his fingers twining around hers, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
Hey all, sorry it's taken so long, I got a litlte writers block. Anyways, hope you like and I'd like to say thank you to all my reviewers, you guys are what keep me writing so review me some more if u like this :)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"So, looks like I've missed a few changes while I was gone." Doyle said, leaning against the doorway to Angel's room. Angel sighed out a breath he didn't need, closing his eyes briefly before raising his gaze to meet Doyle's. The vampire's dark stare was even broodier than Doyle remembered and more pain filled than ever.
"He took my son Doyle. I wish he would die. I wish he would die and suffer a million years of torment in a worse dimension of hell than I was in. I wish I could send him there myself." Angel stated, in such a calm, matter of fact tone that it sent a frisson of fear up Doyle's spine.
"What happened man?" The ex-seer asked, stepping into the room. " How did Connor get to be in Quor-toth? Why did this Wesley fella take him to Holtz? When Skip told me you had a son, I thought he was a complication of that day you were human, then he told me Connor was your sire's. But Darla's dead man, you told me you staked her yourself." Doyle paused in his uncharacteristic ramblings to watch as Connor shifted in his daddy's arms and let out a small burp, drawing a rare full fledged smile from the dark vampire. Angel shifted his son a little before taking an unneeded breath.
"It's a long story Doyle." He murmured. "A very long story."
"Hi, we're looking for a patient who was admitted recently," Fred drawled, nervously twining a lock of hair around her index finger.
The nurse at the check in desk glanced up lazily. "Name?" She asked in a monotone.
"Wesley Wyndham Pryce." Gunn answered, stepping up next to her.
Cordelia stood a few feet away, arms wrapped around her middle chewing her lower lip anxiously. God she was cold, the dash from the truck to the hospital doors had all but soaked her and the near freezing air conditioning of the hospital wasn't helping any.
"You'd think they wouldn't want to give their patients hypothermia on top of everything else." She grumbled to herself, pacing anxiously back and forth across the gross linoleum while Gunn and Fred got the information they needed.
"He's in 452." Gunn's hand on her shoulder halting her pacing. Cordelia jumped at the contact and seemed about to launch into a tirade before she got ahold of herself and flashed him a weak smile.
"Three doors down from his last room." Fred murmured as they all got into the elevator.
Gunn slipped an arm around her waist and drew her against him. "It'll be okay baby." He murmured into her ear.
Cordy almost choked on the surge of jealousy that shot up when she looked at them, how come she was always the one in charge. No one ever took care of her and called her baby.
The elevator doors dinged open and they were almost immediately met by a man in blue scrubs.
"Dr. Peter Benton?" Gunn asked.
"Mr. Angel." He replied tersely.
"Uh, no. Angel...he couldn't be here. I'm Cordelia Chase." Cordy stepped forward and shook hands with him.
"Do you want to sit down?" The doctor asked, gesturing at a row of plastic chairs that Fred was really beginning to hate. Cordy nodded and sank gratefully into one while Gunn and Fred stood a few feet away as the doctor began to explain Wesley's condition.
"Do you happen to know if he's a drug user?"
"What?!" Cordy's voice was outraged. "No, of course not. Why?"
"There was a substantial amount of quacylinochloride in his blood stream. It's a drug commonly found in PCP, and can cause mania, paranoia and depression without the backup of the other drugs found in PCP." Peter explained while Fred's eyes began to widen. Leaning up she whispered hastily into Charles' ear.
Cordy eyed the two while listening to what Dr. Benton was saying, feeling her heart sink. Wesley was in pretty bad shape, if he lived through the morning then there was hope but the next six hours were critical there was some internal bleeding and his spleen needed to be removed before it burst.
She signed form after form blankly, barely glancing at the type, Gunn sitting solemnly next to her, Fred having disappeared a little while after Dr. Benton had left them. She handed the nurse the last one and slumped into her chair, leaning her head against the wall behind her.
"Where's Fred?" She finally asked Gunn some time later.
"Said she had an idea, that she'd be back soon."
"Oh." Was Cordy's monosyllabic reply.
"So here we are again." Charles noted.
"Huh?"
"Sitting in the waiting room, hoping Wes doesn't die. Actually I'm not sure if I am hoping that this time."
"Don't you start too Charles Gunn!" Cordelia exclaimed, sitting up, eyes flashing.
"Tell me you're not at least twice as mad as I am at him for taking Connor, Cordelia." Gunn challenged.
Cordy remained silent, head lolling forward, chin coming to rest on her chest.
"I don't want him to die." She whispered after a few minutes had gone by.
"Neither do I." Gunn admitted reluctantly, his fingers twining around hers, squeezing her hand reassuringly.