Chapter 12

Fall Back and Regroup

            "We don't have a lot of time," Angel said sharply.

            "We're all aware of that," Wesley replied through a yawn. "You don't need to snap at us."

            "Sorry," Angel mumbled, clearly not actually sorry, but wanting to keep the peace. It had been a long night. Everyone had been going for twenty-four hours straight. They were losing the ability to think straight. Actually, he and MacKenzie had been going for nearly forty-eight hours. MacKenzie was, quite literally, soldiering on through it. Angel was running on his reserves of supernatural strength. But it was clear that soon all of them would collapse.

            In other circumstances, Angel would have sent them all to bed. There was no trail from the clinic for them to follow. They were no closer to figuring out where Sheffield and his team were. And they were all losing the ability to function.

            But other circumstances didn't include Kate and Cordelia being attacked, and Kate kidnapped by Lilah and some unknown demon. That was a different set of circumstances – ones that called for them to take some immediate action. Unfortunately, no one could think of anything to do.

            They had arrived back at the hotel at nearly four in the morning. Kate was missing and Cordelia still unconscious. With some effort they managed to rouse her, to ask what had happened. She had, of course, been unconscious for the whole thing. But the impressions of the demon Mr. Gray had been strong – strong enough to penetrate into her sleep. With a few halting words, she managed to reconstruct what had happened.

            Angel was at the boiling point. Exhaustion, worry, and a looming sense of failure were taking their toll on him. He was ready to lash out at anyone, and that was dangerous. He had only recently come away from the edge of evil, and its lure was still tempting. He wanted to hurt Wolfram and Hart more than anything, but he couldn't act if he didn't know what he was up against.

            MacKenzie cleared his throat. "May I make a suggestion?" No one openly objected, so he continued on. "We all need rest. We need it desperately. If either Faith or Kate is going to have a chance, we need to be at our best. It's five a.m. now. I say we get four hours, right here. If anything changes, we'll all be in the same place and can move out quickly."

            "I'm not going to sleep while Kate might be dying," Angel growled.

            "Kate's fine," MacKenzie replied soothingly.

            "You don't know that!" Angel shot back. "You don't know anything. How do we even know that you're on our side?"

            "Hold on here," Gunn started, but Wesley held up his hand to stop him. Angel needed to get this out; and the rest of them needed to hear MacKenzie's answers.

            "It's a fair question," Mac responded slowly, considering his answer. "But I'll ask one first. What did Lorne say about me?"

            "What makes you think he said anything?" Angel immediately replied. Mac, in response, simply cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. Angel knew that playing dumb on that point would be useless. Only a rank amateur would not have asked Lorne about him. "He said we could trust you."

            "All right, then, trust me on this," Mac replied. " 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' In this case, it's that bunch of lawyers you all seem to hate." He waited for the thought of teaming up with Wolfram and Hart to sink in. From the unpleasant looks on everyone's faces, he could tell it had. "That mysterious demon, who's probably the same one who had a talk with your buddy Spike – "

            "Spike's not my buddy," Angel replied reflexively.

            "Right then," Mac conceded, his patience straining. "Anyway, this demon doesn't want to offend the Powers. That's significant. And from what Cordelia told us, he's the one calling the shots here. He's not going to hurt Kate – at least not until he's gotten what he wants."

            "I see," Wesley said. "He's going to hold her hostage to make sure that we don't hesitate to stop Sheffield."

            "That's right," Mac nodded.

            "And after that?" Angel asked.

            "The way I see it," Gunn chimed in, "we just need to make sure that there is no 'after that' where they're concerned."

            "Exactly," Mac nodded. "And that means …"

            "That everyone needs to get some sleep," Angel finished. "You'd better be right about this."

            "Whether I am or not, we have no choice," Mac supplied back. "I expect that they'll contact us in the morning."

            "Okay then," Wesley nodded. "We should each grab a room."

            "Um …" Angel hesitated. "The maid hasn't been through in a few decades, so that might prove a little bit of a problem."

            "We just need a soft place to sleep for a bit," Wesley replied. "Then we take turns in your room for showers."

            "I'll put Cordelia up in my bed," Angel said. A couple pairs of eyes turned on him. "Guys," he said, defensively. "I'll sleep on the couch." He thought for a minute. "There's a couple of good beds in the next room, I'll show you."

            "That just leaves Mac," Cordelia said. "I could always share …" Her attraction to the muscular Scotsman was thoroughly undisguised.

            "I don't think that will be necessary," Wesley said, pointing. MacKenzie had lain down on the lobby sofa and was, to all appearances, already asleep.

            Cordelia sighed. "This girl just has no luck," she muttered to herself, as they all walked off. On the lobby couch, Mac smiled, and then allowed slumber to fully claim him.

* * *

            Angel shot out of the couch, awareness flooding over him in a tidal wave. He looked around franticly. Cordelia wasn't in the bed. Panic began to rise in him. The memories of his dream came flooding back.

            He hadn't intended to go to sleep at all, but the early dawn had claimed him. It was, to some extent, the siren song of his species. Dawn called him to sleep and took him captive with iron bands. Before he could compose himself to resist, slumber had caught him and dragged him into oblivion.

            The embrace of sleep was different for a vampire than for a human. As one who'd once been dead, but was now undead, sleep was a memory of death. The eternal slumber, safe and secure in the confines of the earth, was echoed each day in the vampire's sleep. The eternal sleep was both temptation and terror for the undead; sleep was both pleasure and pain.

            Every vampire remembered the peace of death; the gentle security of the eternal night. They remembered it and longed for it. But to give in to it would mean an end to their existence. Every day, sleep reminded them of that.

            Some, it was said, had simply chosen to go to sleep and never wake. Having grown weary of their unlife, they had simply slipped back into the eternal slumber, at peace once again. Angel couldn't imagine that. The terror that waited for him just below consciousness – the thought that he might truly not wake up again – was too much. It kept him from ever sleeping too deeply. Usually, it kept him from dreaming too much.

            Tonight, though, not even the terror of sleep was enough. His exhaustion had betrayed him, and he slipped right past all the reluctance and straight into the dreamscape of his mind. All his fears were made manifest there.

            The dreams which caught him up that night were not ones of death, so much. He had simply found himself alone in the world. Completely, utterly alone. No one else existed on the entire planet. It was disconcerting, but not terrifying. But then he began to find his friends.

            One by one he'd run into them. He'd walk around a corner and there they'd be. Surprise would flood over him; they would embrace. They would turn to walk and then, as soon as he looked away for even a moment, they'd be gone.

            He ran into Faith first, and she disappeared. Then Kate. Then Cordelia. Then Wes and Gunn. And then Buffy. Each encounter was driving him to panic. That's when things turned ugly.

            He ran into Faith again. This time, though, she was terrified. "Don't take your eyes off me," she had begged. "Don't let them take me again." He hadn't. He'd kept his eye on her without even blinking – until they ran into Kate. She too begged him to watch her, and when turned towards Kate, Faith disappeared again. And in his panic to find Faith, Kate disappeared.

            Then he woke – and Cordelia wasn't there.

            He leapt from the couch and ran to the door. He jerked it open, ready to yell for Gunn and Wesley in the next room. The words died on his lips. Cordelia was standing in the doorway, her hand raised to knock. "Cordelia!" Angel exclaimed. He bent and hugged her. "I'm so glad to see you." He held her tightly.

            "Okay," she said slowly. "Um, no offense, because I know it's been like four house since I saw you, too – but, uh, linen here."

Angel pulled away, realizing that he was taking it much more seriously than she was. Of course, she hadn't had the dream. He took a long look at her and watched as she tried to smooth any wrinkles out of her fresh linen outfit. "You changed," he blurted.

"Like I was going to go another day in the sewer clothes. Right!" She waved him away. "Gunn ran me over to my apartment, and we stopped at the bakery on the way back."

"More bear claws?" he inquired hopefully.

"Wes got there first," she replied. Seeing him frown, she added, "But there's jelly."

"Powdered sugar?"

"There's another kind?" Cordelia was genuinely perplexed by the thought.

"Okay." Angel ran his hand through his hair. He was quickly coming to grips with reality, leaving the dream behind. He had, apparently, slept much later than any of the others. "Let me get a quick shower, and I'll join you guys downstairs. Save me a jelly."

"Uh, no time for that." Cordelia smiled up at him hopefully. "We have a problem."

"Someone else missing?" he asked, a small half-laugh escaping him.

"No," Codelia responded. "Someone else here. With blue uniforms."

"Cops?"

"No, the Maytag repair man." She slapped him in the arm. He flinched involuntarily, then quickly covered back his machismo. "Of course cops. They want to talk to you."

"Tell them I'm not here," he said.

"Too late," she replied.

He rolled his eyes. "Who was clueless enough to not cover for me? I mean …" he saw her frowning at him. "You?"

"My job description does not include lying to the police," she responded sternly. Her eyes were murderous.

"I'll be right down," he replied meekly.

"I thought so," she said. Turning on her heel, she stalked down the hall. Stalking was the only word for it. She didn't run, or really walk – it was more that every step communicated how upset she was with him.

"Go figure," he muttered and then followed.

Downstairs, two plain-clothed policeman stood in the lobby waiting. They eyed the other occupants of the lobby suspiciously. The also eyed the donuts enviously. "Can I help you?" Angel asked when he was halfway down the stairs. One part of his mind noted that the 'blue uniforms' in Cordelia's description was figurative, not literal – not that it really mattered.

One of the men, wearing a non-descript and well-worn suit, walked towards the stairs. "You Angel?" he asked brusquely.

"Who wants to know?" he responded, not slowing his descent. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he pushed past the officer and went to hunt through the donuts.

"You getting smart with me?" the officer postured.

"Me?" Angel asked through a bit of Jelly donut. "Never. But I haven't seen any ID yet."

The other officer – more rotund and less stern than the first – walked over and smiled. "I'm Morton. This is Daniels." He produced a badge for Angel's inspection. "If you're Angel, we wanted to ask you some questions."

"What about?" he responded through another mouthful.

"A girl named Faith. You know her?" Morton asked.

"That's a matter of public record," Angel responded noncommittally. "Is there a reason that you're asking?"

"She's escaped from prison. Do you have any idea where she is?" Daniels face flushed red. It was obvious that he was the 'bad cop' of this duo, but from the looks of him the role came naturally. Angel contemplated briefly whether or not he should point out that life filled with anger would only lead to health problems later. Seeing the glare from the officer, he decided it wouldn't be welcome advice.

"I haven't a clue," Angel responded.

The two cops looked at one another for a moment. Then Daniels moved closer. "You were seen with Kate yesterday asking questions about Faith." Angel shrugged and offered no reply. "Kate's missing. You wouldn't happen to know where she is, would you?"

Angel looked at the others for a moment, making sure they were all on the same page. They would do nothing to endanger Kate. That meant they need to handle this without involving the cops. He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted before he could respond.

"Don't answer that!" a voice said from the lobby door. The man standing there was wearing a silk suit and carrying an alligator briefcase. He had a broad face and a cocoa complexion, his short, black curlly hair just beginning to gray at the temples. He was wearing both cops' annual salaries on his wrist. He stepped down the lobby steps and walked towards the group. He stopped and addressed the officers. "Unless you want to charge someone here, the questioning is over."

"Who are you?" Daniels asked, moving menacingly towards the new addition to the tableau. He didn't like lawyers, and he didn't like celebrities. The fact that this guy looked a lot like Johnny Cochrane put him on the bad side of both lists.

The newcomer pulled out a business card and handed it to him. "Wilmington. I'm from the law firm of Wolfram and Hart." He paused for effect. "And I'm representing Angel Investigations."