Sins of the Father
Chapter Nineteen

"… But you can get one here by sometime tomorrow?" Wes pressed.

"Sure," Rick nodded. "Just gimme your number and I'll call you as soon as I get it."

Wes sighed and scrawled the hotel's number below his name and handed it to Rick. Rick smiled at him, but Wes felt too drained to return it. To think only a couple of hours ago, he could practically see Lottie; so close he thought he was to getting her back.

He should feel happy; Willow and Tara would be performing the spell tomorrow as soon as they got the Thesulan Orb. That meant that tomorrow, his daughter would be safe at home.

But there was a nagging voice at the back of his mind, hissing about the paper he had torn from the book. It whispered of betrayal - Are you really just a traitor? You keep betraying your friend! That spell could stop this ever happening again!

The point was, he knew it was in some way a betrayal. He had been looking for a cure for the curse back when Angel first got together with Cordelia and now here he was taking that away. All for revenge.

Part of him wanted nothing more than for the vampire never to find redemption, to never have it easy. Yet the other half, the part that still called Angel "friend" despite all this, wanted to hand it over and let bygones be bygones.

But still the paper remained in his pocket and Wes left the bright shop and stepped out into the street. In truth, the biggest part of him didn't care. Angel had survived this long with his quest for redemption, his brooding and his wallowing. Wes didn't see any point in fixing what wasn't broken, so to speak.

He strode across the street, away from the glaring lights and laughter. He wanted no part of it, not when it was all just a pitiful reminder of the fact his life was a mockery of normality and happiness. And the truth was, it always had been, save just over two years when he first came to LA and a handful of days under a week ago.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and carried on walking, alone with his thoughts. He had gotton used to that, but it didn't mean he had to like - Oh, for God's sake!

He caught sight of Faith - at least, that's who he thought it was - out of the corner of his eye. She was turning the corner to the back of the large warehouse, followed by a couple of vampires. He pulled out a stake and followed. He didn't plan on doing anything unless he needed to. These days he didn't seem to have energy for much else besides worrying and focusing on getting Lottie back. He leaned against the wall and peered round at her.

She was enjoying herself. But then, this was Faith; she enjoyed this kind of thing. She was grinning as she pummelled the first vampire, knocking him to the ground before turning to dust the second. The other stood and came at her again, launching with his right hand which she knocked off course with a high kick.

Wes had to admit she had style, a life about her that most people he knew didn't have. She staked the second vampire, but not before he got in a cruel punch that bruised her cheek and split her lip.

"Dammit," she muttered, pressing her hand to her lip as she kicked at the dust with a slight grin.

"Let me," Wes said. She looked up, dropping into a defensive posture before relaxing when she realised who it was. She tensed a little as he pressed a tissue gently to her bloody lip, but didn't say anything. He frowned at the already darkening bruise on her face and said, "Come on, let's fix that up. We'll go to my place, it's nearer than the hotel," he offered her a ghost of a smile and added, "Besides, Cordy and Willow are reminiscing, I'd rather not."

She smiled and followed him out from around the building and onto the street.

He hadn't been at the apartment in days; he flicked the switch and motioned her inside.

"The bathroom's through there," he told her. "I'll get the First Aid kit."

"Wes, I'm fine," she shrugged. "Nothing a shower won't fix."

"Be my guest," he replied and went into the living room.

She was quick in the shower, she didn't much like using other people's stuff, she always figured she'd break it and right now, she didn't want Wes hassling her if he pulled the towel bar off the wall.

But that's exactly what she felt like doing. She was frustrated. She was the Slayer and yet she hadn't found a thing. Now - according to Wes who had filled her in on their way here - Willow was here and everything was fine. Tomorrow, a locator spell and re-ensoulment, and Willow and her girlfriend would be back in Sunnydale by the next day.

Faith might as well go back to rotting in a cell, for all the good she was doing here. She left the bathroom, fully dressed, her hair damp and found Wes frozen by the couch.

"Wes?" she said. "Wes, you ok?"

He turned and she saw the sweater he clutched in his hands. Oh.

"I'm fine," he replied unsteadily. "I - er, this was… We can use it for the locator spell."

Faith nodded and he left abruptly to go into the kitchen. Part of her wished for the old Wesley. The one that believed she could be helped - before she tortured him, anyway. This Wesley seemed barely alive and it was all she could do not to attempt to shake that life back into him. She'd have pompous Wesley over this one any day; at least his eyes weren't dull.

She followed Wes into the kitchen, sat down and yawned.

"You're tired," he observed and glanced at the clock behind her. "It's late. You can stay here if you like, I'll call the others."

"It's ok, I don't mind going back to the hotel."

"Well, I do. It's a long walk and I don't make a habit of letting ladies wander off by themselves."

She was going to make a retort, really. It was just… The "lady" threw her. She had never been called one of them.

"I… Ok, whatever," she shrugged.

He stood up and went to the phone, dialling the hotel's number. She sat quietly, pulling at her fingers while she listened to him tell Fred that he was staying at his place that night with her. That of course they were all right and would she ring if Rick called about the Orb of Thesula?

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" he offered as he replaced the phone, but his voice was robotic, a knee-jerk reaction with no real concern either way.

She shook her head.

"When she comes back," Faith started. "What will you do?"

"Do?" he asked.

"Angel. I mean, what's going to happen?"

"I've no idea. I believe I'll have to cross that bridge when I come to it. You?"

"Me?"

"Yes. What are you going to do when this is all over?"

"Because I've been such a big help so far," she scoffed.

"You have, as a matter of fact," he said, but did not care to elaborate on how. "So?"

"I don't know. Guess I'll work at Angel Investigations. It's not like I can do anything else, is it?"

"Maybe not."

"Wes?"

"Yes?"

"I understand."

He looked up sharply. Understand? How could she? What a bloody stupid thing to say.

"Really?" he said crisply. "Since when did you become a mother, Faith? When did you lose your child?"

"I didn't mean it like that," she answered, trying very hard not to match his snappish tone as she had no wish for an argument. "But I get the pain. I know what it feels like to be pushed away, cling to one thing and one thing only. I get that. Nothing's ever real unless it hurts, right? I've hurt in the past and so have you. So I get the pain part of what you're going through. I understand what it feels like to have no idea how to stop what's going on or go back and change it. I know how it feels to blame yourself," she chuckled. "Except, with me, I deserved the blame, it really was my fault. But none of this is yours."

He was silent, contemplating her words. As much as he rejected the idea of understanding from her, he couldn't help but believe it. And he hated that she understood. Because that meant he was the same as her and he didn't want that. He wanted to be what his father said he never would be. And if a murderer could understand how he was feeling, maybe he had travelled too far into that goddamned grey area to be saved.

But God knew he had to agree with her. Nothing was ever real unless it hurt. Nothing. Which was the only reason he believed that all this was actually real. Because it hurt so goddamn much.

He looked at her. He had come to terms with the fact that she had changed, that she had become someone new. But he didn't think he really believed it until now. Not until she reached out and actually tried to make him feel better. The old Faith wouldn't have done that. And part of him blamed himself for that.

She smiled at him and he realised he was staring. He stood up quickly and crossed to the fridge.

"Hey," she said, grabbing his wrist as he passed. "It really will be ok. Really."

He didn't know what made him do it. He didn't know why he did it. He didn't know whether he even considered it before he did it.

But he did. He bent down and kissed her. She froze for a second, before slowly and cautiously starting to kiss him back.

He knew he shouldn't be doing this. His little girl was missing and he was kissing a Slayer. He knew that it was wrong, that he should pull away, apologise and go to bed.

But he didn't and neither did she.

Maybe nothing ever was real unless it hurt, but right now, all he wanted was for something real that didn't hurt. Something warm and soft. He wound his fingers into her hair and stood, pulling her up with him. Her hand slipped under the back of his shirt, caressing his back.

She didn't know why she was kissing Wesley. She didn't know why she wasn't slamming him into a wall and taking control. She didn't know why she was allowing this to be different. All she knew was that she'd had enough of things being real because they hurt. This felt real and for the first time in a long while, something felt real, but it felt good too.

The apartment was silent but for their desperate groans as they stumbled out of the kitchen, past the couch and fell into Wes's bedroom. His mouth left hers and slipped down to her neck where he kissed her gently before returning to her lips. Stopping him, she pulled his glasses off and peered into his blue eyes. They sparkled with lust and her heart leapt because suddenly they were alive instead of dull with fear, anxiety, guilt and lack of sleep.

They fell back on the bed and she tugged his shirt off before his hands crept under her tank top.

And for the first time in probably forever, Faith did not urge for speed, but gave herself up to the gentle hands of someone who - unbelievably - cared.

And she closed her eyes and sighed as she allowed herself to be loved.

Because both of them just wanted to feel something real that didn't hurt.