"Buffy the Vampire Slayer," "Angel the Series" and such related television persona/themes are the creative property of Joss Whedon and co (disclaimer). Any attempt to steal said property would lead to a sticky rash, uncontrollable itching and exploding on Tuesdays…

This story contains child abuse, drug use, self-mutilation and all those other things my mother would frown upon if she knew I was putting it on the net. If you're one of those hippies, what the heck are you doing here?

Setting: Angel season one, episode "Five by Five."

Behind Trust and Loyalty or Behind Closed Eyes

by

Angel of the Lord

If I hired you out and put your soul on a shelf
Would it be yourself or would it be someone else?
Would it be the person that you try to be?
Or would it be a black soul painted so effortlessly?

Watch who you curse...

And if I hung your soul out to dry
Would the foul stench of selfish pride burn my eyes?
Be that place where you reside
Behind trust and loyalty or behind closed eyes

-Plastic Shadow by Blindspott.

The apartment door clicked shut.

"Don't worry, hell will freeze over before I have sex with him," Cordelia called out to Dennis, reassuring the often jealous ghost. Wesley closed his folder in a huff.

"Thank goodness for small favors. I'm going to try calling Angel again," the British man announced as he dropped his satchel and reached for the phone.

"'Kay. I'm going to pack a bag."

"Cordelia, please. Just a few things," Wesley told her in a parental tone while he began to dial. "We're not going on safari."

Nope, just into hiding, Cordy thought with a smirk. Although ever since the A.I. team had found out about the rogue Slayer's return to the world of the conscious the brunette had maintained that she liked the plan where she was scarce. She headed into the darkened bedroom and gasped as a figure stepped out of the shadows.

"I got a little problem." Faith. The Slayer in question paused to give Wesley a disdainful look before returning her attention to Cordelia. "I don't feel Angel's in the game. But somehow I think you guys are the key." Faith advanced on Cordy and the young woman found herself backing away from the psychotic and into the kitchen. "Now, what could I do to really make him hate me? Hmmmm..."

"Faith."

"Shut up Wesley." The sheer rancor that filled her voice made Cordelia twitch.

Wesley was not deterred. "Listen to me. It's not to late."

"For cappuccino? 'Cause it just keeps me up."

"It's not too late to let me help you."

He sounded sincere, and Cordelia followed his lead. "Yes," she said in a shaky voice. "We want to help you." Faith just stared at her and for a fleeting moment Cordelia thought she saw a hint of uncertainty pass through her dark eyes. Faith blinked and looked away and whatever emotion Cordy had seen there was gone.

"I realize there has been failures. On both sides." The Watcher persisted, trying to get through to his Slayer.

Faith smirked. "You're a pretty obvious one, aren't you Wes?" She chuckled a little. "God, what where they thinkin'?"

Wesley ignored the comment. "Faith, we can still work through this. It will require effort and trust but-"

"Trust? Trust you? Yeah, because that worked so well the first time."

"Please, just let us try."

The pleading tone of Cordelia's voice made the woman pause. Facing her Faith laughed bitterly. "You too, C? What is this? "Make Nice with the Psychos Week"?" She shook her head. "You can't help me."

Cordelia took a tentative step forward. She reached out a trembling hand. "Faith-"

"Don't touch me!" The Slayer jumped back.

"Faith." Wesley edged closer to this girl. With Cordelia on one side, Wesley on another and two walls blocking Faith in the effect was akin to cornering a wild animal.

The Slayer raised her fists into an attacking position and Wesley stopped moving. Cordelia stopped breathing. Neither one was raring to take on a Slayer in direct combat, but fighting seemed to be, for once, the last thing on the rogue's mind. "This was a mistake," Faith muttered under her breath. Her eyes darted frantically as she searched for an exit.

"No, it wasn't. You came here because you thought we could help..."

"Shut up Wesley!"

She dashed forward and shoved Wesley as hard as she could. He flew over the counter and landed, hard, on the couch's backboard. The wood cracked.

At least Cordy hoped that was the wood. "Wes!"

"Fuck." The Slayer was staring at Wesley's prone form in disbelief, like she couldn't quite accept the fact that she had just thrown the man halfway across the apartment. She took a step back into the fridge and closed her eyes tightly. "Fuck."

Cordelia moved forward cautiously. "Faith," she practically whispered. The Slayer's eyes flew open at the sound of her name. "Faith, I need to see if Wes is okay. Please."

Faith's voice was small when she answered. "Okay."

"Good." Without turning her back on the obviously unstable woman Cordelia made her way over to the fallen Watcher. Keeping her eyes on Faith, who was still pressed up against the refrigerator, Cordy crouched down beside Wesley and hesitated for a moment before reaching over and shaking his shoulder gently. "Wes?"

Taking the opportunity Cordelia's distraction gave her Faith did what she does best. She bolted.

Angel sniffed the air as he walked up to Cordy's apartment. The tangy scent of leather and soap still lingered, mixed with the almost intoxicating smell of Slayer energy. Dammit. Faith was here. The vampire sprinted up the remaining stairs and if he had a pulse his undead heart would have surely stopped beating at the sight of Cordy's door dangling from it's hinges. The wood made a forlorn creaking sound as he tore it completely free from the doorframe.

"Hey, we could have fixed that you know."

"Cordy." The brunette was seated on the floor next to a woozy Wesley. She had propped him up against the salvaged couch cushions and was attempting to attend to his wounds. The damp cloth she held in her hand left small trails of water dribbling down the side of his face when she squeezed it too hard. The excess liquid turned the streaks of blood pink. "Is Wes okay?" Angel asked in alarm.

"I'm fine," the Brit muttered as he tried, and failed, to stand for the ninth time. Cordelia kept pushing him down.

Cordy sighed in annoyance. "Wes, you have a head injury. People with head injuries aren't supposed to move. Or be moved, or something. Besides, I don't care how many times you've been knocked unconscious before, you're not getting up to bleed all over my apartment." Wesley spluttered in a very English manner and Angel offered him a hand. He accepted it gratefully and let the vampire pull him to his feet.

"Thank you, Angel."

"No problem."

"Oh, fine," Cordelia sulked. "If you start walking around and sever your spine or something don't come running to me."

"What happened here?"

"Faith happened."

"She busted in?"

"No. Out." Angel looked to Wesley for verification but he just shrugged and touched lightly the scrape near his temple.

"I was unconscious by this point."

"She attacked you." Angel didn't ask, he stated the three words as if they were fact.

Wesley nodded in confirmation but Cordelia disagreed. "No," Cordy looked to her friends. "It wasn't like that. It was more... She was trying to get away."

"Regardless, we need to find her."

Angel nodded in agreement.

Faith kicked in the loft's door, not even bothering to use the keys she had "liberated" from the previous owner. God, what is wrong with me? She had them right where she wanted them. Wesley was practically begging to be smacked around! It wasn't as if he didn't deserve it.

"You deserve everything you get!"

"You deserve it," Faith whispered.

"On Monday a guy was beaten up here. His wallet and car were stolen." Cordelia pointed to a location in Los Angeles's downtown district on the map they had spread out on her coffee table. Angel sat next to her listening intently while Wesley hovered over them near the remains of the other sofa. "He's still in the hospital." Her hand shifted. "Four blocks over is a restaurant where they had a major knockdown-drag out on Tuesday. Then here another guy ran into something he referred to as "The Bitch from Hell" who sent him home with the paramedics. That was on Wednesday." Her hand came to rest at a third spot near the other two.

Faith's been a busy girl, Angel thought angrily. It was bad enough he wasn't able to protect Buffy from the rogue in Sunnydale but now he couldn't even defend L.A. from the rampant Slayer. Angel gestured to the site of Monday's attack. "This was the first. Took his wallet and keys. Is he still in the hospital?"

"Yes, we were planning to go down and talk to him." Wesley leaned forward a little to get a better look at the map. "What are you thinking?"

"Where's he live?" Cordelia pointed to the home of the first assault victim. Angel nodded and stood up.

"You're going after her then?"

"Yeah."

"I'm coming with you."

Angel turned to the Watcher ready to protest. The homicidal Slayer had already knocked Wesley down once and Angel didn't want to see him hurt again. Wes shook his head. "You're not leaving me behind, Angel. The girl is obviously unstable, you don't know what she's capable of."

"Neither do you."

Wesley's eyes blazed. "I'm coming with you."

Angel sighed. "Fine. But if it comes down to a fight don't get in my way."

"What do you want me to do?" Cordy asked. She was looking around her apartment with a small frown on her face and Angel recognized that she was afraid. Faith had broken into her home, violated what was supposed to be her sanctuary from the world, and she was worried that it could easily happen again.

"Go back to my place and lock yourself in. There's a gun in the weapons cabinet if you need it."

"Okay."

"Would you like an escort, Cordelia?"

"No, it's all right Wes. I think I'd be happier if you both went and got her as soon as you can. As in now."

The knife bit into her skin and she dragged it slowly down her arm, watching in wonder as the flesh separated to leave a pure river of red gouged into her arm. The wound ached when the cool breeze from the open window tickled it. "You deserve it." She raised the blade again and brought it down sudden swiftness.

Angel jumped over the closed door in the convertible and ran around to the curb. He was halfway inside the building when he realized Wesley wasn't behind him. The Watcher slammed his door shut and walked quickly up to the vampire. "What are you planning to do?"

Angel growled. "Now isn't the time for this, Wes."

"I need to know. I won't let you just charge in there if you're planning on hurting her!"

"Wesley, she just threw you into-"

"She's a sick girl Angel. She's confused. If you charge in there and attack her you'll only make things worse."

A silence stretched between the two before Angel spoke again. "I won't attack first," he vowed. Wesley nodded, aware that that was probably the best answer he would receive from the vampire. The pair made their way up to the third floor and into the apartment of Dick Loew.

Angel heard it first. A hushed mantra concealed within quiet sobbing.

"You deserve it. Everything. Everything you get. Stupid bitch. Everything..."

The coppery taste of blood was swathed throughout the air. The beast inside Angel thrashed at the bindings of his soul as it recognized the blood for what it was. Or rather who it was. Slayer's blood.

Faith's blood.

"Oh God." Wesley caught sight of her first. She was crouched in the corner by the sink, her face tear stained, huddled in an almost fetal position and scratching at the flesh of her arm with a kitchen knife. Soft tissue was scraped raw and bleeding heavily. The wooden floor panels were stained red. Wesley took a cautious step forward; his hands open in a show of peace. "Faith..."

"Don't!" she cried out suddenly, startling both men. Faith scrambled away and held the knife out in front of her, waving it madly. "Don't!" Crimson liquid flicked from the wounds on her arms and left a dappled pattern on Wesley's pants. He felt sick just looking at it. "Don't touch me..."

A streak of black flashed in Wesley's peripheral vision and suddenly Angel was beside the wounded Slayer. The vampire wrapped one arm around her shoulders and gripped the knife-wielding arm with his other hand. "Wesley, take the knife!" Faith thrashed against him and he tightened his grip to the point of cutting of her air supply. "Wes! The knife!"

The Watcher reached out to take the blade and Faith jerked again. Blood that had dripped down her arm made Angel's grip weak enough for Faith to slash at Wes and the edge sliced through the webbing in his right hand. He recoiled with a hiss. "Wes, take it!" Wesley grabbed at the knife again and managed to dislodge it from Faith's hand. By now the Slayer couldn't have cared less. She was near hysterical from blood loss and the tears that were cascading down her face had blinded her. Faith trembled softly against Angel's chest as he held her close. "We need to get her out of here."

Wes dropped the bloodied blade into the sink and handed Angel a washcloth. "See if you can stop the bleeding. I'll start the car." Angel nodded and wrapped the material tightly around Faith's arm. She whimpered and tried to pull away.

"Shhh... It'll be okay, Faith... It'll be okay..."