Chapter Nineteen – Anger Management Issues

"You have a plan, man?" Gunn asked from his hospital bed.

"Sword, neck. Problem taken care of," Angel answered, rubbing the back of his sore head.

"OK, now explain to me why you think that Wesley is a zombie, because zombies usually don't kick the shit out of vampires, and then pull them out of harm's way."

Angel leaned back in the chair he was sitting in next to Gunn's bed. That had to be the only explanation for what Vail had done to Wes's body. What else could he be?

"He didn't smell right," was Angel's only explanation.

"He didn't smell right? What?"

"You heard me. It wasn't Wes. At least I don't think it was. It just wasn't right, OK?"

Angel couldn't explain it to a human. Maybe Spike would understand, a little at least. Humans gave off unique scents. And Angel was an expert at identifying those scents. He knew Wesley's scent probably better than anyone, having spent so much time with the man. That man, body, was not Wesley. Something was off about it.

"Could it have changed if someone brought him back to life? Didn't that girl Buffy come back to life?"

Angel knew that it was possible. But Buffy had died a mystical death. Wes's death was from natural causes. Reanimating a body that had died from natural causes would be next to impossible unless you made it a zombie.

"Yeah, she did. We have to find Faith. That thing has her believing the story."

"Which puts her in a heap load of danger. So why are you sittin' here?"

"I had to make sure you're OK. The guys will be here to protect you, just in case."

Angel had called Gunn's old buddies from his neighborhood. They were more than willing to guard him until it was unnecessary. Their workload had gone down considerably in the last month too. And they seemed to know that Angel was the cause of their decreased workload. Angel got up to leave, convinced that Gunn would be alright in the short term.

"What if it is him, Angel?"

Angel couldn't think like that. Wesley was dead. It was like he could feel it happening. Just like when Cordelia had finally died. He knew when Illyria dropped into the alley what the answer was even before it was asked. Not only had the battle with Hamilton taken a lot out of him, Wes's death had also. Hamilton's blood may have helped him win the battle, but the idea of his friends' sacrifices made him not stand in the morning sun and let himself go up in a puff of smoke and ash.

"I don't know. But wanting it to happen didn't make it happen."

"No one's here," Faith started as they entered the hotel.

"Which is a good thing considering Angel is out for my head."

It felt different being in the lobby of the Hyperion again. It had been a little over a year since the group had moved to Wolfram and Hart. A move that none of them should have ever made. They had been seduced by the dark side. And had paid dearly.

"Spike will understand that," Faith added.

"It doesn't mean that he'll believe us though."

Wesley sighed as he sat down on the round couch. His head still hurt from Faith's punches. They had nearly knocked him out. Even though she didn't have the strength, she still had the knowledge. But up against something significantly larger, she would be overwhelmed. Or up against him if she tried that trick again.

Faith winced as she sat beside him on the couch. Her neck had turned black and blue from the hold he had put on her earlier. If he looked close enough he could see the faint outline of his fingers.

"We need to discuss what exactly happened, Faith."

Faith took a deep breath like she knew that it was coming. "You didn't snap my neck."

"But I could have, very easily. Is that what I did to those demons?"

"You don't remember?"

No, he vaguely remembered starting to take them on. Then it all became fuzzy.

"I don't remember much."

"The first two demons went down quickly. You snapped the first one's neck then took the other one down with a well-placed kick to its knee. Then you and Angel took out the other two. You were fast, efficient, and a little scary if you ask me."

He felt a little scared himself. Blacking out and taking on massive demons was not too smart. At least he got the job done.

Looking down to his feet, he glanced Faith's way, noticing that she was holding her hands in front of her gingerly. The knuckles were swollen and battered. Reaching over, he gently touched the wounds, which made her pull them back sharply.

"We should get you some ice."

"You know, it used to be, I could hit things for hours and not feel it. Now, I can barely move my hands they hurt so fucking much. I don't like being helpless, Wes."

"I don't like seeing you helpless."

Leading her into the kitchen, he pulled out the ice tray and dumped a few pieces of ice in a rag. He placed it over one of her knuckles, making her wince.

"Thanks. Sorry I had to sock you."

"I'm just glad you had the strength. I hated seeing you lose the slayer strength in the first place."

"Yeah, well it pisses me off when someone bites my lip."

He wasn't even sure why he had done that. Of course, he didn't remember doing that.

Faith turned to lay the ice down on the counter, only before she could, it dropped to the floor.

"Are you OK?" he asked.

"How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I had lost my slayer strength? How?" she implored, still not looking at him.

"Well, that's a long story."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned around. The look of fury on her face said it all. He backed away a little to avoid her battered fists battering his head more.

"Seems that I have some time on my hands," she said tightly.

"I was dead."

"Ghost?"

"Sort of. I don't think that it would be a good idea to let you know," Wesley said quickly as he started to walk out of the room.

Faith quickly put her arm across the threshold to block his path. If her hands were still hurting her, she didn't let it show. "Try me."

"I can't."

She advanced on him slowly. He didn't know why he thought she could do any damage to him. She had taken him down not once, but twice in the last couple of hours. Because she had surprised him, but she had done it. And he hadn't fought back against her. He didn't consider her a threat. But maybe he should think that she was a threat by the look she was giving him right then.

His hip bumped up against the counter, stopping his backward motion. He really didn't want to lie to her. She would catch him in one easily.

"Don't lie to me, Wes."

And she could read minds too. Maybe it was because their minds were quite a bit alike.

"It's a bit delicate, you see."

"Quit sounding like you have a stick up your ass and tell me."

Wesley took a deep breath and dove in headfirst. "Well, I died. I told you about going to another dimension. At least that's what I think it was. I was given an assignment. And you . . . ."

"Holy fuck, why didn't you just say so. So you've been following me around, helpin' me out. Guardian angel? Am I right?"

Faith was sometimes too smart for her own good. The cat was out of the bag, and he hadn't even told her that part. "Yes. You are."

"Why me? Other than I tend to screw stuff up royally."

"You must be important enough to warrant one. And I just probably broke every rule in the book confirming your hypothesis. Cordy is going to kill me."

"Hey, already been dead. Cordy's there too?"

"Yes. I keep expecting her to swoop down and jerk me back."

"Is there spanking involved?"

"Faith," he sputtered.

"Gotcha. I knew there was some of that prissy watcher still in there somewhere."

Faith looked at him with mirth in her eyes. Years ago, that prissy watcher in him would have almost died on the spot by her suggestions. Now he just shrugged.

"With Cordelia, you never know."

"Oh, I so don't need that image in my head."

Both laughed at her comment. "I couldn't even do the guardian angel thing right, Faith. And now, who knows."

"Hey. It's not bash the dead watcher day here. We will figure this out. I got a lot riding on this too."

Faith looked up at him like he had all the answers, or knew where to find all the answers. He didn't understand any of it. All that he knew was that he was alive once again. But for how long? And by whose hands?

"They have to be interconnected somehow. Which means we need to research. Only my books aren't here."

"Angel has some. I could help."

He and Faith had never sat down and researched together. He didn't know what kind of skill set she possessed.

"Thank you for the offer."

"Anytime," she told him, still smiling like she knew of some inside joke that he didn't.

"Shouldn't we get started?" he asked carefully.

"Yep," she said as she motioned for him to lead the way.

Bending down, he picked up the ice she had dropped and handed it to her. The shit-eating grin was still in place. For the life of him, he still couldn't see why she was so amused. It was when he arrived in the lobby that it hit him. He stopped short and froze.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled.

"I just love those books. Keep you up at night if they're interesting enough."

Faith walked around him to go to Angel's inner office. Wesley hung his head slightly.

"Pun thoroughly intended, I suppose."

"Oh, yeah. You have some issues we need to discuss, Wesley," she told him, with the emphasis on the last part of his name.

"Fuck," he answered, realizing what issues she was referring to.

"Dying really does change a man, now doesn't it?"

"You wouldn't believe how much," he told her, turning his head to look at her, the amusement that he was now feeling still mirrored in her eyes.

"I thought that I was the only one to die and come back in dramatic fashion. Stole my thunder, mate," Spike said from behind him.

Wesley also heard Illyria's gasp of surprise too. Faith grabbed the sword they had taken from Angel and deftly threw it his way, just in case. Wesley turned with the sword raised, to show Spike that he meant business.

"Hello, Spike," he said as he held the sword ready.

"You're not a zombie. Angel has his head up his ass again. Figures."

Illyria didn't move from the spot at the door. Wesley didn't like it one bit that she had taken on Fred's persona. He had told her at one time not to take that shape again to only ask her for it when he was dying. Had she kept the form after he died?

"You figured that out quickly," Faith announced. But Wesley still didn't put down the sword.

"His heart is beating. Curious though. You smell different. Buffy smelled different when she came back too."

Now that was interesting, Wesley thought. Maybe he could pick Spike's brain about Buffy and her resurrection. And he would just ignore the fact that Illyria was even in the room.

"Well, Angel isn't so believing. He tried to slice off my watcher's head."

"Chop first, ask questions later. I assume Percy, you have an explanation all ready worked up?"

"I wish."

"Now that's a first. The brain doesn't know squat. Come on, Blue. He won't bite." Spike motioned for Illyria to follow him. She did not comply.

"He is dead. I watched him die. This is an imposter."

"Hey, vote's two to two now, Wes. We need a tie-breaker," Faith quipped.

"Illyria, I don't believe I give a rat's ass what you think," Wesley replied to her, glaring her way.

The crass comment made Illyria wince in pain. Wesley saw her withdraw like she had been hit with something solid. He then realized that he had made a mistake replying to her statement. From now on, he'd keep his comments to himself around her.

"Wes, there's more going on here than just you bein' human again," Spike announced, a little angry.

"I am sure that you can enlighten us Spike, but we don't have the time right at the moment. We have demons after us, and I would prefer to keep this head a top my shoulders for the long term."

"Illyria's human. At least that's what we think," Spike finished, knowing that if he didn't he wouldn't get a chance to later.

"Change back. Change back right this instant. Stop playing Spike, Illyria."

"She's not lyin', you ponce," Spike said, defending the demon.

"She's playing you Spike. Don't you see it?"

Illyria sank down to the steps, covering her face with her hands.

"All I see right now is some bloody wanker who doesn't know what the hell is going on."

"Wes, something is wrong with her. Maybe you should listen to Spike," Faith said to him.

"She killed Fred, Faith. Burned her up from the inside. Burned her soul away until there was nothing left," Wesley panted out.

Wesley's body was burning up from the inside too. He could feel the rage rise up inside of him, ready to escape at the first sign of violence. It was like no dark magick he had ever touched in his life. The thoughts of destroy raged through his mind. He could just walk over to Illyria and twist her neck until it broke. And no one could stop him.

"It wasn't her fault. You said so yourself," Spike reminded him.

Wesley could just take his fist and smash her face in. That would end all of his torment and suffering. She would be dead and he wouldn't have a reminder of what could have been.

"Spike, get her out of here now," Faith said, looking at his eyes now.

Faith was fading from view. All of his anger was focused on the small figure sitting on the stairs.

"Now," Faith yelled, putting herself in between the figure and himself.

Spike took a hold of Illyria, and led her up the stairs. Wesley's head still pounded, his breath was still short, but the pressure had eased somewhat so he could actually see a fuzzy Faith in front of him again.

"You have some serious anger management issues, Wes. Did you black out?"

Wesley could hear her talking, but her form in front of him was still a blur, like he was walking in a dream world.

"You stopped me," he spoke haltingly to her.

"Because she's not the enemy here. You just need to chill."

Wesley reached out to touch her neck, not grabbing it like he did before, but to feel her pulse underneath his fingers. "You're frightened again, of me?"

"You would be too if my eyes were black."

His knees felt weak and shaky. Closing his eyes, he started to sag down to the floor. Faith caught him before he hit the ground.

"OK, no slayer strength. Even as skinny as you are, you're still not a lightweight," she groaned as she took his arm and put it over her shoulder.

Making it back to the couch, she eased him down. Wesley put his head back, trying to bring some order to his body before he spoke again.

"So, do you remember that?"

"Remember what?"

Faith sighed. He must have done something wrong for her to sigh at him. "It looked like you wanted to rip Illyria apart limb by limb."

Fuzzy thoughts ran through his brain. Did he feel that much violence against Illyria? He could have taken her out when he reduced her powers. All he could remember telling her was to change back to being the blue color that she always was. And Faith telling him to stop.

"It's like walking through a dream, and when I wake up, I only remember bits and pieces."

"Well, you better wake up and smell the coffee, buster. Because we are gonna need some serious help to fix whatever is going on with you."

TBC

Next: Oh, boy, I really don't know what's going to happen next. Angel/Wes fight needs to come up shortly, because the team really needs Angel on their side to defeat whatever Vail has planned. Cordy becomes the general, which is pretty scary in its own right. I might also add in some familiar people to help Cordy out.

Author notes: OK, I know where I want to end up. I just don't know how to get there. I have about ten things that have to happen before the story ends. Someone asked me not to have a happy ending because that's the way Joss writes. I really have a hard time with that concept. Buffy got to have a sort of happy ending, even though Anya and Spike died. And Angel would not have had the ending that it did if they hadn't been cancelled the way they were. How many of you out there like happy endings? Of course, with this story, it won't be an ending necessarily.

Thanks go to: Wow, I can't believe. I'm picking up new reviewers all the time. Which means I need to get this story moving so I won't lose all the loyal, great reviewers too. Thanks to: mtngrl (yay, new reviewer), Uberwicca, Imzadi, pari106, clcountry (another one, yay), qkith, futurelyfamous (another new one), and all the others who have been reading this fic and have actually liked it.

Answers to questions:

Imzadi—sorry about Lindsey, but he doesn't hit girls in general, especially now since he's trying to be good. Besides, Cordy hits everyone. He's a gentleman from the south.

Clcountry—I hope this is different.

Qkith—I do write fast most of the time, which isn't necessarily the best way to do it. Sometimes I write myself into a hole.

Futurelyfamous—There will be an Angel/Wes fight because it is so long overdue, like two years overdue. I hadn't planned on an Angel/Spike fight in this fic, sorry. I still haven't decided about Wes. And I don't usually bend to the wills of the audience (unless you're Imzadi). I take lots of suggestions, then use some of them if they're good. That's not like stealing or anything is it? Like I've said before, I really don't think that Joss intended for Wes to die. He just did it because he was so pissed off at the network for canceling it before its time. That was literally Joss dying on screen. I'm pretty sure he wrote that scene (he does that sometimes with other people's stuff). Forgive me if I'm wrong. So, we'll see what will happen. Thanks for taking so much time with the review!!

Review, review, comment, or whatever.