Author's Note: Chapter Two is up! I know the chapters are really short, that's just how they're going to be until I get around to writing a proper ficJ
As Angel strode down the corridors of Wolfram and Hart, his thoughts turned to Illyria. His recent confrontation with her had scarred him in more ways than one. She was a constant reminder of all the people he had failed - Doyle, Cordelia, Connor…and Fred. He'd gambled, lost, and paid - with her life. Third soldier down. Angel dragged himself out of his sombre reflection and looked up to see Spike approaching. "Brilliant…" he thought. "Come to kick me while I'm down?" he asked sarcastically. The younger vampire frowned. "I know you don't like me, and I don't particularly like you, but do you have to be so bloody flippant?" Spike glanced quickly at Angel. "Can't hide behind that sarcastic tone of yours forever, mate. I know you feel it. You'd do better to follow my example, and hide behind a bottle of Jack instead." "I never want to be like you, Spike" replied Angel. He walked away, leaving Spike standing alone in the hallway. Just another reminder of all he'd lost.