I can see it in your eyes you're hurting
But pain is part of learning who you are
All these truths can sometimes be deceiving
When your whole world comes crashing to the ground
Tell me everything you need now anything at all
And I will be the one who's waiting anytime you fall
Yeah, when you come undone
When you come undone
You know I can't be like everybody
Cause I can't tell you what you want to hear
I don't know if I can make it better
All I know is I will be around
Tell me everything you need now anything at all
And I will be the one who's waiting anytime you fall
Yeah, when you come undone
When you come undone
When all your plans are made out lying on the floor
And all your dreams are turning into nothing more
When all your hope has left you know you're not alone
Just hold on
Hold on
Tell me everything you need now anything at all
And I will be the one who's waiting anytime you fall
Yeah, when you come undone
When you come undone

"Undone"
Lifehouse

Chapter Two
Undone

"I hate you."

"Oh, get over yourself," Spike huffed as he and Angel walked through the dark sewers in search of a single Pargo demon they had found. Spike was stalking along as quietly as he could, sniffing the air every few seconds to make sure he had not lost the scent of the creature amongst the multitude of other odors that came along with these cesspits. Angel was limping behind him, blood trailing down his left leg as he stumbled along.

"Spike, I'm still bleeding over here," Angel hissed, grabbing his grand child's shoulder. Spike jerked loose easily and turned to frown at Angel.

"And what do you want me to do about it?" he asked. "The Pargo's gettin' away – if we don't keep after it now, we'll lose it for good – our trackin's only so good in this filth, you know that!"

"So go after it yourself," Angel said angrily, shoving Spike away one handed. Spike stepped back a little, staring in disbelief at Angel's mood.

"You know, if it weren't for the fact that it's a complete impossibility, I'd say you were pregnant, the way your moods shift."

"Shut up, Spike."

"Sod off, Angel."

Angel leaned back against the stone and concrete wall, sliding down until he was sitting. He looked at his leg – there was a gash at least four inches long and easily three inches deep. Blood was soaked into the jeans, which were now ruined beyond repair.

"Why did I agree to this?" Angel asked. Spike scoffed.

"Because you were going all Sixth Sense on me, walkin' 'round talkin' 'bout you see dead people. So don't get in a snit with me, I ain't the one what's haunted." Spike sighed harshly and walked to Angel, crouching down next to him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Angel looked up at him, a mixture of anger and confusion in his eyes. "I just… I shouldn't have said that. I know it's not easy, dealing with all that's happened. Just don't take out your frustrations on me, mate."

Angel nodded. "You just make me so… crazy at times," he said through gritted teeth, looking back at his wound. The bleeding was slowing – within the next twelve hours it would be healed, without any scarring, no medication. One of the fringe benefits to being a vampire. "I want to wring your neck most of the time," he looked back at Spike. "But I know, every time you annoy me it's just because you want a – Pargo demon!"

Spike looked back in time to get hit with a large, red fist. He fell over onto Angel's lap, bringing forth howls of pain from the elder vampire. Quickly, Spike rolled out of the way and retaliated with several well placed blows to the Pargo's head and abdomen. Angel stood up, leaning heavily against the wall, looking frantically for something – anything – that he could use to help Spike. He limped carefully, watching Spike as he fought, trying to find something.

"Little help would be nice, Angel!" Spike shouted before he was thrown into the opposite wall face first. He fell to the ground, coughing and sputtering small drops of blood.

"Maybe you shouldn't have fallen on me, Spike!" Angel roared as the Pargo turned to him, swinging awkwardly while Angel dodged the punches.

"You could have been faster about bloody well warnin' me it was there!" Spike labored, now up on his hands and knees. He continued pushing himself up when his hands brushed against something – he looked to his right, at the base of the wall. There were a few large, loose stones.

"Spike!" Angel choked out, as the Pargo was now holding him off the floor and against the wall by his throat. He was trying to break free when a loud, dull thud resounded in the tunnel. The Pargo cocked its head to the side, its grip slackening a bit. Another thud sounded, and the Pargo dropped Angel to the ground.

"Yeah, that's right; ya can't keep a good vamp down!" Spike taunted, throwing another stone into the demon's face. The stone hit and bounced off, bringing a shriek of rage from the Pargo. It charged Spike, who stepped out of the way at the last second and kicked at the demon's back, slamming it hard into the wall. It slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"Quick, Spike," Angel grunted, Propping himself on his hands. "Drown him, it's the only way – "

"I know, I know," Spike dismissed Angel with a quick wave of his hand. He grabbed the Pargo and brought it to the small stream of water that ran through the middle of the tunnel, holding its face down for several minutes until he was sure it was dead – he could almost feel the life flow out of it. He left it there, and stepped to Angel.

Angel looked at the demon, then up at Spike. He shoved himself back against the wall, then pushed himself up on his good leg. Spike simply watched him, his gaze cool and distant. Angel cleared his throat.

"Uh, good… good job, Spike. You're a… a good fighter." Spike smirked.

"That's all I get?" he asked. Angel stared at him. "I save your worthless corpse and all you tell me is I'm a good fighter? You've known that!"

"Doesn't make it any less true," Angel defended, testing his left leg – it still buckled under his weight. He looked down and resigned himself to fate. "Do you, um, think you could – "

"Help you?" Spike asked, his voice deeper than usual. Angel glanced at him and nodded silently. Spike snorted, but stood next to Angel and took his arm. He placed it comfortably over his shoulders before reaching around Angel's waist to hold him up as the two made their way back to Faith and Wood's apartment.

"Jesus Angel, I told you to find something to do, but I didn't mean try to get yourself killed," Faith teased as she finished disinfecting his wound. The two were watched by Spike, who chose to observe from a safe distance. Faith was dressed in her trademark baggy leather pants, with a dark red tank top and her dark, wavy hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Angel's black tank top had been replaced with a white one, and his jeans were down in the basement – he was now dressed in black boxer shorts so that Faith could get to his wound.

"I would have been fine if Spike hadn't – "

"Hadn't what?" Spike interrupted. The two glared at each other for a moment before Angel continued.

"If Spike hadn't rushed after the thing and scared it," he finished.

"It was going to attack those people!" Spike argued, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"It was headed away from them, Spike!" Angel raged.

"It was trying to confuse us!"

"Pargo's aren't that smart!"

"Says the man with the gash in his leg," Spike countered. Angel seethed.

"I have a gash in my leg because you rushed after it!" he bellowed. Kneeling in front of him, Faith chuckled. The two vampires glowered at her in unison, which made her laugh even more.

"I'm sorry," she giggled. "I don't mean to laugh, it's just… you two are so…"

"So what?" Angel asked.

"So adorable together!" Faith told them, glancing between the two. Spike's eyes widened in shock and Angel looked as though he were going to be sick.

"We are not… 'together'…" Angel said quietly.

"Yeah," Spike mumbled. Faith grinned.

"Not yet at least," she said, gathering her supplies and standing up. She walked out of the living room, leaving the two vamps alone.

"What was that supposed to mean, anyway?" Angel asked, looking at Spike. Spike shrugged.

"Not real sure, mate." He ambled over to the couch and sat down next to Angel. "And, I am actually sorry, 'bout your leg an' all. Guess I was a bit caught up in my own wants and desires that I… I got a bit reckless, ay?"

Angel snorted. "Spike, you've always been reckless. You were half the reason we couldn't stay in one place for more than a few weeks back when you were first turned." Spike sniggered.

"Right," he said, thinking back. "Dru used to call me Willy." He shook his head. "Simpler times, eh?" Angel nodded. The two sat in silence for a few moments before Spike reached over to grab the remote from the arm of the couch, flicking it in the direction of the television. He began carelessly flipping through channels until he found one he liked. He set the remote down again, watching the show intently. Angel stared at the screen, trying to figure out what was going on. There were far too many people, and far too many story lines…

"What the hell is this?" Angel asked. Spike shushed him and kept watching. Angel frowned. "I can be just as annoying as you, Spike. What are we watching?"

"The best bloody show on the telly," Spike muttered, grabbing the remote and turning the volume up. "Now shut up."

Angel huffed but continued watching. He was still very confused, but he was starting to get an idea of what was happening. It looked like one of those mindless soap operas that came on during the daytime. As he continued watching (a woman named Theresa and a man named Ethan were arguing over children right then) the thought hit him.

"Oh God," he moaned. "This is Passions, isn't it?"

Spike said nothing; he merely turned the volume up again to drown out Angel's voice. Angel eyed the remote, which was now resting high up on Spike's thigh. He looked back to the television, thinking up a plan to get the remote and keep it away from Spike. The first part would be easy – he could reach out and snatch it without Spike knowing it was gone until the channel changed, of that he was sure. It was keeping it away from Spike that would prove harder than usual – his injured leg (while mostly scabbed over at this point) was still a weak spot that would hinder him. But it was now or never.

As quickly as he could, he reached out and grabbed for the remote.

"ANGEL!" Spike roared. "WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOUR HAND GOES!" Angel pulled back, realizing he had not quite reached far enough. The remote now lay on the floor next to Spike's feet, while Spike's hands were cupping his groin, and he was bent over slightly, his eyes squeezed tight shut. "Mate, if you're really that hard up for some action, you should have just asked," Spike said evenly, his eyes still shut. Angel rolled his eyes.

"I was trying to get the remote," Angel told him glumly.

"Sure you were," Spike said, looking over at him. He sat back, making a large show of carefully rubbing himself. "Gotta make sure you didn't break anything," he said matter-of-factly.

"Shut up, Spike."

"Sod off, Angel."

Yielding to his bad luck, Angel dejectedly sat and watched the show with Spike until the commercials hit.

"We have to watch the rest of that?" Angel asked, sounding as innocent as possible. Spike glared out of the corner of his eyes. "I'm just asking – I mean, I'm sure there are some…"

"Bloody… Hell… No…" Spike told him, reaching down to pick up the remote. "You can't use guilt on me this time – your legs already healing. Anyone can see that. But what about me? I may never be able to tickle a girl's fancy again – thanks to you. So you can just wank off, ya git. My injury is far more serious than yours; I get to pick what we watch."

"That's right, Angel." Angel looked to his right – there, kneeling in the coffee table, was Doyle. His eyes widened as he looked at the ghost in front of him.

"You're… you're not real," he mumbled, feeling his throat seize up.

"Oh what are you on about now?" Spike asked, irritated. He looked over to Angel. The look of pure terror on his grand sire's face was enough to stop him worrying about his frustrations with the older vampire. "Angel?"

"Spike, please – tell me you see him."

"See who, Angel?"

"Doyle – the real Doyle… he's here, in the coffee table."

"Angel, no one's there," Spike told him gently.

"Forget it, Angel," Doyle's Irish brogue rolled out. "He can't see me. I'm here just for you."

"I didn't kill you," Angel said quickly, shaking his head. Spike's eyes looked at him in surprise, but the blonde vamp kept silent.

"No, of course you didn't kill me," Doyle chuckled. He smiled at Angel, shaking his head slightly. "But you didn't try to save me, either."

"I did try to save you!" Angel said hurriedly, pushing away from the armrest and into Spike's side. "I tried, I tried! Don't you remember?"

"Angel, come back to this world," Spike said uncertainly. "Come back – we don't have to watch Passions, I swear – "

"Listen to him, yammerin' on about a bloody television show!" Doyle laughed outright, leaning onto the armrest. "Look, Angel, here's the thick of it. You only think you tried to save me."

"No, no, no, I really did try, Doyle, I never wanted you to die," Angel murmured, his eyes filling with tears. He could not do this – the visions of his friends were happening more and more frequently. They were sure to drive him mad.

"Angel, come back to me," Spike said loudly, grabbing Angel's arm. But Angel made no move to show he recognized that Spike was there.

"Doyle, I tried, I really did…"

"Not hard enough, though, eh? You were always so worried about the rest of the world, the people you never knew and who would never care about you. Always too worried about the ones who didn't matter to see that the only friends you'd ever have were slipping away from you, begging for your help."

"NO!" Angel shrieked, scrambling back from the armrest. He turned and latched onto Spike, causing the younger vampire to jump at his sudden movement. "Spike, please, help me," he begged, a few tears falling down his face. Spike stared at Angel, feeling helpless. "Please, I tried to help them, I really did – "

"I know, mate, I know," Spike said, reassuring him.

"And now you're finding comfort in the arms of him?" Doyle asked, standing up and walking to the front of the couch. He shook his head. "Angel, man, you can do so much better. Whatever happened with that cute little blonde girl you gave up your humanity for? Buffy, wasn't it?"

"Spike," Angel sobbed, clinging to him like a newborn to it's mother. "Spike, make it stop. I can't do this."

"What the hell happened?" Faith and Wood ran into the room to find Angel crying into Spike's chest like a child, and Spike looking completely bewildered.

"I – I dunno," he shrugged gently. "Says he was seein' another ghosty; Doyle this time."

"Make it stop, please, make it stop," Angel whimpered against Spike's chest. Faith walked cautiously towards the two vampires and knelt in front of them.

"Angel, what happened?" she asked softly.

"I can't," he whispered through his sobs. "I just can't."

"You can," she told him, placing a hand on his back and rubbing soothing circles around and around. "What did he say?"

"Said I didn't try to save him. They all tell me that," he choked out. "Cordy did it this morning, now Doyle…"

"Wait, you saw Cordelia this morning?" Faith asked, concern deepening in her face. She looked to Wood. "It's getting worse, isn't it?" Wood only nodded.

"What?" Spike asked. "What's getting worse?"

"We're not sure," Faith shrugged feebly. "We've been researching different things, but the only thing we know that could do this is The First."

"But Buffy and you – "

"Defeated it, yeah, for the time being," Faith said. "The First is never going to be gone – it will always be there. But we weakened it."

"Well, if it's The First, why isn't it messin' with all of us?" Spike asked. "You know, try an' turn us all against one another?" Faith shrugged again.

"No idea," she said, stroking up and down Angel's back. His crying had calmed a bit – Spike noticed he was no longer shaking as violently, but there was definitely a wet spot on the front of his shirt that was still getting bigger. "But one thing's for sure – Angel is coming undone, and so far, there's nothing we can do about it."

Spike paced in the small kitchen, a cleaning rag in his hand. He was supposed to be wiping down the counters and the table – instead, he was pacing the freshly swept floor, trying his hardest to figure out a cure for Angel's… condition. After Angel's latest round with the spirit of demons past, he had gone into a stoic state – he didn't move, didn't blink, didn't even react when Spike had slapped him… repeatedly. It was as though he had lost all will to carry on…

WILL! That was it! Spike couldn't believe it had taken him so long to figure it out. When Dawn had been captured by Glory the Hell God, Buffy had sunk into a catatonic state much like Angel had now. And Willow had been the one to go in and find her again, bring her back to the real world. Maybe she could do the same for Angel? Spike threw his rag into the sink and raced into the hall, towards Faith and Wood's bedroom.

He found the door closed, and knocked soundly, not wanting to barge in on them. He heard Wood invite him in from the other side of the door. His resolve set, he opened the door and stepped bravely in.

"I know how to bring Angel back," he stated confidently. Faith looked up from the book she was reading. She lay on her stomach, sprawled comfortably over the bed, propped on her elbows. Wood was sitting up, leaning against the headboard, another book in his hands.

"Thank God," Faith said, closing her book and sitting up. "I was ready to say forget it! Whatcha got?"

"Willow."

"Willow?"

"Yes Faith, Willow." Spike beamed. "She did the same thing for Buffy few years back. Buffy sank into this catatonic condition and Willow went into her mind and brought her out of it. She can do the same for Angel – I know she can. She's the best there is."

Faith nodded, looking impressed. Even Wood could not hide the smile that crept into his features. "Well then, let's get Willow here," he said.

Spike sat up, watching Angel as he lay in his own cot – for lack of a better word – lifeless. Spike knew he could not sleep – not yet, at least. Willow would be arriving tomorrow afternoon. Faith had made the call to Giles, asking for Willow to come out for a few days. A week at most. Spike shuddered at the thought that it might take her an entire week to bring Angel back into this realm of consciousness. Thankfully, Giles hadn't asked much about why she was needed – one of the advantages of being one of the original Chosen One's – The Newly Reformed Watcher's Council would damn near bend over backwards for you. Spike could imagine his reaction if he knew that Willow was on her way to help the vampires who Giles hated more than any other demons around.

"You're insufferable, you know," he muttered, gazing at Angel. He was greeted with silence; but he had expected that. He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. "But I don't think I could stand to be away from you again," he continued. "I've known you for so long – you're the only thing that's real to me anymore. And I wanna be real for you, too. I want us to be able to talk – really talk. I want us to be there to catch the other one when we fall." He felt a single tear roll down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. "I just want us to be happy," he whispered finally. "I want us to make it through all these hard times, so that in the end, we can say we weren't alone. Because I can't be alone anymore, Angel. I just can't be alone. Please don't leave me alone." Spike curled into a ball, crying into his knees, until finally sleep overcame him.