A/N: Thanks to my lovely reviewers and good luck to everyone else who had finals as well: ka-mia2286 (Damn! I didn't even have that much due…good luck with that), mysticallove, s.. (I completely agree), MysticWolf1 (I'll do my best, try and keep me in check, let me know if I go overboard), CF, SomethingsWicked (thanks!), onlimain (don't worry about it, and you are right on with all your comments…including the Spuffy ones), Nina, Miracle Angel Summers, ShalBrenfan, and goddessa39 (you're a B/A shipper…no, I never would have guessed :) and I hadn't actually thought of making it Gunn/Anne).

Chapter 9

Darkness.

Nothingness.

Where was she?

Who was she?

She couldn't see anything around her. It was like swimming in inky pools of darkness. There was no pain. She didn't know who she was, or where she was. But there was a voice. It kept calling out to her.

It tickled something on the fringes of her memory. But the feeling was fleeting and bothersome. Why did she need to leave? There was nothing wrong with this place. Nothing was bothering her.

Except for that almost-memory. But what was one passing emotion that she couldn't identify?

Nothing.

If only that troublesome voice would go away and leave her alone. But she didn't really want that. It was soothing.

If she could just remember.

But it caused discomfort when she tried.

Better to leave things as they were.

In the darkness.

Alone.

xoxox

Angel was disheartened after a day of luckless searching for her. If he didn't know any better he would have thought she had gone back to Sunnydale, but he was sure she was still in town. It wasn't in her nature to leave things as he had left them. She was one to face trouble head on. It was one of the things he loved about her.

He just couldn't figure out where she was.

On top of that no one was talking. He had hit all the regular demon joints and even called several of his contacts, searching for any word about her. But things were eerily quiet. The news of the Slayer was something that should have been talked about. But he heard nothing.

He was exhausted and disheartened when he realized he was standing in front of the police department that Kate worked at. He figured he might as well inform her of the situation with the zombie cops so he gave a small shrug at the situation and went inside.

She didn't seem surprised to see him when he sat down in front of her desk. Her blank face revealed none of the thoughts that were lurking beneath the surface. After a few moments when she gave no response he conceded, "Hey. I thought you might want to know I took care of our little cop problem."

She looked at him evenly across her desk before sliding a file across it to him. "Crime reports from that precinct. Up until three months ago there was a murder every two weeks, a rape every two days, a robbery every hour and a half." She leaned back in her chair and raised an eyebrow, "And that's what we just gave back to the people of that community."

He opened the file and briefly glanced at the contents before shutting it and tossing it on the desk. He shrugged, "I can live with that."

"You learn to live with a lot of things, don't you?" She made no effort to hide the disgust she felt for him. There was no reason to in her mind. He was nothing to her now that she knew what he was.

He slumped in his chair, the defensive posture gone, only feeling the weight of his actions of the past day. "Yeah."

She just shook her head, "This job is making me crazy."

"I know the feeling," he said, thinking about what he had said to a different blonde so that he could get the 'job' done.

They were both left to their thoughts, Kate thinking about the compromises she had been making on the job for the sake of an entire underworld that she hadn't known existed until recently, and Angel was feeling every one of his 243 years. They were interrupted by a female officer carrying another file, "For you, detective."

"Thanks." She opened the file once the woman had left and looked it over shaking her head. She couldn't help but release a small chuckle to relieve tension.

"What is it?" Angel asked. She looked up, surprised. She had been so lost in her own memory that she had forgotten he was still there.

"Oh, nothing," she said and looked back down at the file, "just, some of the things that people name their kids these days, 'Buffy,' what kind of- Angel?"

She broke off her question when she saw him still across from her, and for the second time that night, she felt true fear. She felt like prey. Then she saw the look in his eye. "Angel, you alright?"

"Where is she?"

xoxox

Light.

There was light.

And joy.

And peace.

And emptiness.

It echoed.

Loudly.

And suddenly it she wasn't so alone. The voice was reverberating against her bright prison. But she didn't understand it.

There was comfort from it.

And an almost-memory.

But nothing else.

Something was calling to her.

She knew that if she could only remember the voice and who it belonged to, she would know who she was. She would remember.

Was that a good thing?

xoxox

Angel looked up at the entrance to the hospital in trepidation. He knew that there was a confrontation coming, but he had to be there. She needed him. He had to stay strong long enough so that he could explain things to her. It was all that mattered. And his friends, well they would have to deal with his presence.

Building his resolve, he stepped through the doors of the hospital. He moved down the hall slowly and cursed his vampiric senses. He could smell the stench of death on the air. Blood was everywhere and it was making it difficult to concentrate. He briefly paused at the front desk, and the nurse told him that she was still in critical condition.

Critical condition.

The words practically reverberated in the room.

That one statement pushed everything to the background, and his worry to the fore. She shouldn't be critical. She was the Slayer, a gunshot shouldn't slow her down.

His pace quickened and he was to the entrance of the ER before he saw anyone he knew. He could see her through a window of her room. Gunn and Wesley were in the room with her, Gunn holding her hand, and Wesley standing in a corner, but his eyes were focused on her. She looked so pale and bloodless. The only other time he had seen her that was after he had drained her. The memory sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. He had almost killed her that day. It had convinced him that leaving was the right thing to do. He had barely been able to restrain his demonic impulses and wasn't able to resist drinking her. What kind of life could she have had with him?

"What are you doing here?" He turned to see Cordelia standing behind him, her hands on her hips, and angry scowl on her face.

"I heard about Buffy," he answered.

She snorted, "Well, that's great. Too bad it takes a bullet wound to make you give a crap." She gave him a hard look, "Buffy doesn't need you right now. We don't need you. You walked away. Do us a favor and just stay away."

She waited a beat, then moved past him to go to Buffy's room. The sound of his voice stopped her, "You can't keep me from her forever."

She turned to give him one last look, "No. You'll just see her, and then leave, breaking her heart once again." Her tone was scathing, "Don't you think you've caused her enough pain for one lifetime." Then she turned and walked away without a backwards glance, leaving him to his thoughts.

Alone.

Tbc…