Chapter Ten – Prison Break

Darkness. Nothing like it. To be seeped in blessed darkness forever. Angel hadn't even turned a light on the past couple of weeks, just wanted his mind to go blank, his body to forget the battle that had been lost. Spike would come and go, snark a comment his way, then leave the blood on the table. Illyria had visited him on several occasions, just to sit, never speaking. Then Faith. Oh, Faith, with her optimism, her we have to save the world spiel. She could shove it up her ass for all her cared.

He'd lost weight, not drinking as much as he should have. Maybe he should shave his head like Spike had done. They'd be twins then. He chuckled at the thought. With the way his mind was working at the moment, he wouldn't put it past Spike to stake him for just suggesting the twins thing.

As he laid his head back on the bed, he wished for good dreams. Soft dreams, dreams where his friends were all alive, all well, all happy. Happiness had happened, a few times that they'd all been together. They had been good together. The time after his first office had blown up and they all huddled in Cordelia's apartment. Cordy and Wes. The times after Darla had finally left, but before Pylea. They had returned to some kind of happiness, with the addition of Gunn. Right after Pylea, after he had grieved Buffy's death, but before Connor arrived. They had been happy again, with the addition of Fred. He could probably count up the days on his fingers though.

His mind wandered some more, until he fell under, wanting to dream of happiness again. Maybe that was the key, he thought. If you think happy thoughts right before you fell asleep, you had happy dreams.

He sat up in bed, wondering why he had woken up so quickly after falling asleep. Since all he did was sleep and brood, it didn't make any sense. Something wasn't right. The edges of the room softened. The light coming from the bedside wasn't on before. Was he now dreaming?

"Hey," a soft voice floated from the other side of the room.

No, no nightmares tonight, he begged. He tried to wake himself up.

"It's OK. Not a nightmare, unless you sass me, then who knows."

Cordelia came into full view now, just as beautiful as ever. Oh God, he missed her. She and Wes were the only ones who knew him, really knew him. Yeah, Spike knew him, but not in that sense of a real family. Kind of like that uncle or annoying nephew that is related by blood, but that's it.

"Not a nightmare? You sure? Cause I've had just about as much of those as I can stand," Angel said truthfully.

"I know. I saw them. Listen, I'm not going to lecture you. It's just," Cordelia talked as she walked over to the bed to sit beside him. "You need to pull it together or so help me I'm coming down there and beating the crap out of you," she finished with yelling.

Angel shrank back away from the now yelling Cordelia. When she was in a mood, there was no stopping her. Only buying her clothes would ever get her out of that mood. She was dead, so that wouldn't work.

"Why are you yelling?" he asked patiently.

"Oh God, do I have to list all the fuck ups?"

Angel winced, knowing quite well all of the fuck ups. And Cordelia was here to remind him of every single one of them.

"And no, I'm not going over them in detail. You've already flogged yourself over them in typical Angel fashion. No use in that department. You need to get out of this funk and help. Remember, that's what we do."

She wanted him to get back to the mission? The mission that he sacrificed most of his friends for? What, was she crazy?

"Just a little crazy, and yes, the mission. Hey, I didn't take on those visions for nothing, buddy. Besides, you can do it. And the others need you."

A souled vampire, an ex-god, a comatose fighter, and a depressed slayer. Wow, he thought, like he'd really add to the mix.

"Yeah, and I can hear every conversation that goes on in that little brain of yours buster. They all need you. Just like Doyle and I needed you. Just like Wes needed you. And Fred. Just like Connor needs you."

Connor. He was still out there somewhere. Happy, going to college. That should have sustained him through all of this. Maybe Connor was why he hadn't ended it all yet.

"There's so much happening now. I need you back. Please?"

Cordelia, Ms. I-never-beg-for-anything, just said please. Whatever she wanted him to do, it must be bad.

"What makes you think that I won't mess it up again?"

"Well, maybe you will. You're just a man, um, pire. So it's possible. They all need you. Don't give up that easily."

He had given up this time. Right after Holtz had taken Connor, he had given up, just for a short while. But he tried things to bring his son back, so he hadn't totally given up.

"I don't know what to do. Everything is different. Where do I start?"

"You can start by leaving this prison and going downstairs. OK? For me."

For Cordelia. The woman he would still do anything for, even if she was dead and asking in his dreams.

"OK. Say I go downstairs. Then what? Do I go on like nothing has happened?"

"No. You remember. You go on."

"And you know that it will work because?"

"Hey, I'm Cordelia. Higher being, buddy. Doesn't get any better than that."

Cordelia took his hands in hers. They were so warm and soft. He hadn't felt her warmth in so long. He missed it so much.

"Downstairs?"

"Try it." Cordelia got up and started to move away.

"Do you know what happened to . . . ?" Angel asked Cordelia, very slowly, like he didn't want to know the answer to the question.

"He's alright. He's with me."

Angel swallowed tightly. He somehow knew that this was how Cordelia would end up. She would go to heaven and help the helpless still. But he wasn't sure until now how Wesley would end up. And it scared him that he would be the cause of more strife for Wes.

"Thank you, for that. I . . . ."

"I'll take good care of him," Cordelia told him, trying not to cry, but not succeeding. "He and Doyle are getting along great."

"Driving you crazy, right?"

"Yeah, but it's the way it should be."

"There's so much I want to say to you."

"Shh, I know. Just know that I'm always here. Always."

Angel woke up, shooting up in bed, looking around the gloomy interior. He flipped the light on, trying to figure out if any essence of Cordy was left for him to see. If he concentrated, he could smell her scent. It could have been left over from long ago. That didn't matter. She was still there, somewhere, if just in his dreams. And it made him feel a little more at peace.

"Tell you what, pet. The next time you follow me somewhere, just come along. No stalking."

Spike and Illyria made it back to the hotel in one piece, no thanks to Illyria's wanting to take out the other demons. He had to pull her back from taking on the rest of the little gang that had followed them.

"I would not have been able to snap the demon's neck."

"We need to talk about that little trick. You see, I was on it."

"And I took the kill away from you."

Man, could she get inside of his head sometimes. It was spooky how she knew what he might be thinking.

"Yeah. Don't concern yourself. No matter."

Spike walked to the kitchen in the back, opening the refrigerator, pulling blood out and pouring it in a mug. He put it in the microwave and set it for a minute. As he turned, he bumped right into Illyria. She must not be finished with the conversation, he thought.

"We must have a battle plan."

"Could have been random. Let's just keep our eyes and ears open, shall we."

Illyria touched her ears to see if they had indeed closed when she wasn't looking. "I do not understand your idioms."

"We need to be cautious."

Illyria shook her head in acknowledgment. Spike reached for the microwave as it pinged. Before he retrieved it, he decided that it needed something a bit more to spice it up, so he rummaged through the cabinets.

Turning around, he watched as Illyria opened the microwave door and grasped the mug. She immediately dropped it, splattering blood all over the floor and their clothes. He glared at her as she looked down in wonder at the mess she had just created.

"Illyria, you need to be careful. You could have burned yourself," Spike said as he bent down to clean up the shards of pottery. Illyria joined him, but quickly straightened herself.

A drop of red blood hit his hand as he picked up the broken pieces. Must have gotten it everywhere, he thought as he picked up the largest pieces. Until he looked up at Illyria holding her hand. She had cut her small hand on the palm.

"I do not understand," she slowly managed to say.

"You're just bleeding a little. Must have cut yourself on the cup is all," he tried to reassure her.

"It is red."

"It's blood. It's supposed to be red," Spike slowly told her, then realizing that should not be the case.

Spike took her hand in his, raising it to smell it. It smelled human. Spike took a napkin to stop the bleeding. Illyria looked into his eyes, asking for an answer to what might all of a sudden make her blood that shade of red. Not just red, he realized, but human red.

Faith woke up to birds chirping, sun brightly showing through the windows. She had actually gotten enough sleep the night before. Getting up out of bed, she decided that she needed to visit Gunn today, since she hadn't been there in a couple of days. The world just looked a little brighter with a good night's sleep.

She had her routine down for the last four weeks. Get up, shower, eat breakfast, look in on Gunn, come back for lunch, maybe visit Spike, then read until she tired. One month, which meant she still had two to go before the rent was due. By then, she would figure out what in the hell to do.

Dressing, she chose a pair of jeans and a striped oxford shirt. No one had noticed how she had taken to wearing an item of Wes's clothing. Might as well get some use out of them, she thought. Besides, she hadn't brought that many items of clothing from Cleveland.

Arriving at the hospital, she waved to the on-duty nurse as she walked by. The staff knew she came every day or so to sit with Gunn. With a diary in her hand, she pushed Gunn's door open, only to be greeted by a nurse. No Gunn.

"Hey, where's Charles Gunn?" A feeling of dread crept over her.

"Oh, they're just performing some tests. He should be back shortly."

Faith had never seen this nurse before. She had made it a point to make friends with the nurses, so that if anything happened, they would call her first. Luckily, nothing had happened. But he still wasn't out of the coma.

They wheeled Gunn in not ten minutes later. Faith could tell that he had lost a lot of weight. Being on a liquid diet wasn't good for one keeping weight on. It was a miracle she hadn't wasted away to nothing when she was in a coma. She figured it was because she was a slayer that caused that to not happen.

The orderlies repositioned Gunn comfortably, then left. The new nurse checked to make sure everything was in order, and promptly left the two of them alone.

"Hey, Chuck. Brought another installment of 'The Life According to Wesley'. The long-winded son of a bitch. I think we were at the place where you guys had taken down some beast. Not like that wasn't always the case, but this one was oozing pus like mad. Hope it didn't get on Queen C's outfit. Man, could she pitch a fit."

So Faith read to Gunn for a while until her voice gave out. So she just sat and watched the monitors beep and the IV drip fluids into his body. She must have drifted off, because she thought she heard a voice and quickly came awake with a jolt.

"Watch where you're throwin' that thing, will ya," the stationary figure on the bed mumbled.

She was still trying to shake the cobwebs out of her mind to hear it right. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her.

"Gunn?" she tentatively asked.

"Two n's. Remember that. Stick figure Barbie and C3PO can stay out of my way." More mumbling, but Faith understood every word, but not exactly what any of it meant.

"Chuck, it's Faith," she told him.

He hadn't opened his eyes, but he obviously was making some noise now. The first he had made since Faith had been visiting him.

"Duck, English."

Faith touched his arm, shaking him a little to get his attention. "Gunn, I'm right here. Wake up. Open your eyes and look at me." She moved her hand down to his and squeezed. He squeezed back.

"Good squeeze. Now, how about the eyes. Let me know you're in there somewhere."

His eyes didn't open.

"Damn stupid ass vampire's gonna get us all killed." At least he was still mumbling.

"Dammit Gunn, open your eyes. There's a demon in here. I need help."

The monitors around him showed that his heart started beating faster. He had actually heard her. As she looked back at his face, his eyes slowly came open.

"Must have happened," he whispered.

"What? Gunn, it's Faith. You remember me?"

"He got us killed. And I'm in hell."

"Very funny. Only the hospital."

Gunn turned his head to look at Faith now. His eyes still were glazed over from all the drugs being pumped into his system, but he saw her.

"Hey, Faithy. What's shakin'?"

Those are the best words she had ever heard. He recognized her, he was awake.

"Let me call the doctor." Faith pressed the call button.

"I hate hospitals. Where's everyone?"

Not something she would answer right at the moment, since the monitors seemed to be on overload. He was working just to stay awake.

"Back at the hotel. Just stay still."

A different nurse hurried into the room to check on Gunn. Faith stepped back, glad that something had finally gone right. Gunn was awake. She needed to tell Angel. It might bring him out of his funk too. If there was a bright side, than this was it for the moment.

Gunn stayed awake for another twenty minutes, and then promptly fell asleep. The doctor assured her that he would probably wake up more and more, but his body would need to rest. So they'd take it slow. So Faith decided to tell Angel and Spike that Gunn was getting better. Good news almost made her skip to the hotel.

As she entered the lobby, a figure in a suit stood up from the circular couch. And he wasn't whom she wanted to see.

"Why are you here?" she asked, putting enough anger in her voice to scare most people away.

"Hello, Faith."

TBC

Next: OK. I love cliffhangers! Just to get y'all to come back. Next, someone makes a request that Faith does not want to fill. And more Wes, because I can't go a day without having him in a fic!

Author notes: I decided to not make them so damn depressing. Doesn't mean any of them still cannot brood, but now at least they will function.

Thanks to: Imzadi, pari106, tp96, Jess, Steph, peaches&cream, shahid, clodia, Dduck, Tariq, and any others reading. Steph—to answer your question, remember Spike? That's all I'm saying at this point. Shahid—Gunn's back. Lots of new reviewers!! And I haven't seen this type of story yet either. If anyone has, please tell. I was surprised it wasn't done yet either. Keep reviewing!!

P.S. A good fic happening right now. Check it out: It's a virtual six season of Angel. It is excellent. There's two episodes posted. The banter between Angel and Spike is soooo good. And lots of familiar faces too! It's R rated though, just to warn you.