Title: We Close Our Eyes (1/1)

Author: Airawyn {http://www.fanfiction.net/~airawyn}

Email: airawyn(@)san(.)rr(.)com

Feedback: Yes, please.

Distribution: Ask

Disclaimer: All characters in the Jossverse belong to Mutant Enemy.

Rating: G

Characters: Andrew, Angel

Notes: Spoilers through Buffy's "Chosen" and Angel's "Home". Thanks to Doyle, Zgirl and Laurithrie for beta reading this.

* * * * *

"I looked Death in the face last night.

I saw him in the mirror, and he simply smiled.

He told me not to worry.

He told me just to take my time.

We close our eyes

And the world has turned around again."

- We Close Our Eyes, Oingo Boingo

* * * * *

Packing was the worst part of moving. He hadn't had to pack for years. His last office had blown up, which conveniently eliminated the need for boxes and tape. Before that, he'd moved from place to place with nothing more than some clothes and a few books. But now that Angel Investigations was moving to the sunny-yet-safe offices of the new Wolfram and Hart, there was no need to keep the old Hyperion Hotel. So Angel was busy packing up the books and files they'd acquired over the last few years. He could have sent over some of his new staff to move everything, but he preferred to do it himself. Besides, it kept his hands busy while he thought over the events of the last few days.

It was strange how much things had changed in the last week. He supposed that after over two centuries he shouldn't be shocked by the twists and turns of life, but there was always something new waiting around the corner. Suddenly his son was gone from his life, his greatest adversaries had turned their operations over to him, and he had a hotel full of new Slayers staying with him. And Cordelia was in a coma.

He started emptying a bookshelf of reference books into boxes. The hotel was finally quiet now. The bus from Sunnydale had arrived early that evening, and the passengers were hyper and talkative after the battle they had fought. But now it was nearly five in the morning. The adrenaline had worn off and fatigue had set in. Everyone in the household was fast asleep upstairs.



"Um, excuse me, Mr. Angel?" Everyone except this boy. Angel vaguely remembered the blond kid arriving on the bus with the Slayers, but he hadn't paid much attention to him at the time.

"Can I help you, ...?" Had the kid been introduced to him?

"I'm Andrew. I couldn't sleep, and I was wondering if you have a TV or maybe a Playstation 2? Or a Gamecube or an X-Box, I mean, I'm not picky."

"The TV was broken in a fight a few weeks ago. I don't know about any of the other things. We got a Ethros box recently..." Angel said, puzzled.

Andrew looked confused.

"Can you play 'Enter the Matrix' on it?" he asked.

"I don't think so. It's for exorcisms."

"Oh." The boy watched in silence for a few minutes while Angel taped a box closed.

"Is there anything else?" Angel asked finally.

"No, I guess not." Andrew paused, then added shyly, "I could help you pack, if you want."

Angel opened his mouth to refuse, then saw the look in the boy's eyes. He gave in.

"Sure." He handed Andrew a box. "Start on the files in there." The boy nodded and opened the bottom drawer of the file cabinet.

"So, how come you're moving?" he asked as he transferred files from the drawer to the box.

"New offices," Angel replied shortly,. He didn't feel like going into details with this kid. He still had a lot of doubts about the whole deal, and he didn't want to think about it right now.

"Oh," Andrew said, when Angel didn't continue. They worked in silence for a few moments. "So, have you seen the new Matrix movie yet? I wanted to but we were so busy getting ready for the big fight against evil that they wouldn't let - I mean, they couldn't spare me for the few hours that I'd be gone."

"I don't really go to a lot of movies,"

"The first Matrix movie was awesome. I saw it five times in the theater with Jo- with my friends and we- I've been waiting ages for the next one and now it's out. I really need to go see it. D'you think there's any theaters that are still playing it? The third one comes out this fall and I wanna see the Animatrix, too. I guess if you don't have a TV you probably don't have a DVD player either, but you really should get one. Maybe one of the new HDTVs, although -"

"Andrew," Angel interrupted. "You should probably go try to get some sleep. You must be exhausted after that battle."

"Sorry," Andrew said quietly. He paused a moment. "Can I stay if I promise not to talk? I just - I don't want to be alone right now." He kept his eyes on the box in front of him.

Angel sighed internally. He really didn't feel like being Mr. Helpful Guy right now, but this kid clearly needed someone to talk to. And maybe if Andrew talked out whatever his problem was, he'd leave Angel alone. Too bad Lorne was at some Hollywood party. The green guy was much better at this sort of thing.

"It's okay, you can stay. Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?" Angel asked. Andrew was silent. "You don't have to."

"I was supposed to die today," Andrew said softly. "But I didn't. Anya died instead, saving me. And she shouldn't have. I was ready to die. I deserved to die. She didn't."

"Why do you think you deserved to die?" asked Angel, curious.

"I was evil. I was a supervillain." Angel raised his eyebrows. This kid, a supervillain? "I... I killed my best friend, and I awakened the Seal of Danzalthar, and all kinds of bad stuff happened. I thought I would die in the battle, you know, sort of poetic justice." Angel smiled. Andrew flinched, hurt. "I'm serious."

"I know you are." Angel forced the smile off his face. "It's just that death and redemption aren't the same thing."

"I know that!" Andrew said. "But... if one of us had to die, it should have been me."

"Would have made things simple for you, wouldn't it? No more guilt," Angel said.

"Maybe," replied Andrew. "But death is bad! And I should be punished."

"Death is easy," corrected Angel. "Living is hard. Maybe your punishment is to live with your guilt for a long time."

"That's a weird punishment."

"Actually, it's quite popular with the Gypsies," Angel said wryly. "But maybe it's more than that. When did you kill your friend?"

"Last fall," answered Andrew, avoiding Angel's gaze. He closed the box he was working on and taped it shut.

"And when did you decide you didn't want to be evil anymore?"

"Um... pretty soon after that." Andrew got another box and began moving files from the next drawer.

"So you've been not-evil for less than a year?" Angel asked.

"Well, yeah," replied Andrew.

"Maybe the Powers That Be aren't convinced that you're serious. Maybe they let you live because they want to see what you're going to do next."

"Do you think so?" asked Andrew. He looked up at the vampire. Angel shrugged.

"I don't know. I don't understand how they think. Maybe it was only chance that you survived. But it doesn't really matter why. What matters is what you do now." Andrew thought about that for a while, as they continued packing.

"But what if Buffy and her friends don't want me around anymore?" Andrew asked finally.

"It's not about them. It's about you. What are *you* going to do?"

"I don't know," Andrew said.

"Then that's what you've got to figure out," Angel said.

"D'you think - " Andrew began.

"What?" asked Angel.

"I know some demon languages, and I can summon demons, which maybe isn't a very good skill for a good guy, but I learn really fast so I could learn whatever I need to know, if you'd - would you - can I come work for you?" Andrew said.

"Well -" said Angel.

"Never mind. I should probably go to bed now." Andrew finished the box he was packing and closed the lid. "Thanks for listening." He moved toward the door.

"Yes," said Angel. Andrew stopped.

"What?"

"I'd like you to think about things for a while first. But, if you want, you can come work for me." Angel said.

"Really?" asked Andrew.

"Really." Angel smiled at him.

Andrew smiled back.

"Thanks. I'm going to go to bed now," said Andrew. He left the room.

Angel sighed. He hoped he'd said the right things. He really preferred battling demons over having serious talks. Had it been a mistake to offer the kid a job? He didn't know very much about Andrew, and the kid didn't seem to have a lot of skills. Angel remembered Wesley and Cordelia, back in the early days, when they were still in that little office over his apartment. Both of them had grown and improved so much in the last few years. But it hurt to think of Cordelia, and he pushed those thoughts away.

The kid had potential. And, while he wasn't Connor (more painful thoughts threatened to intrude, but he shoved them back) it still might be good to have a young man around to teach.

* * * * *