Author's note: Changed the title and making that the chapter 1 title. My sis says that chapter 1 is such a climax that everything I write afterwards would just bland up the story and I agree; I don't think I can top it after that. But I can't keep myself from writing more. So if you don't want to ruin it for yourself, don't read any further. Think of it like Angel's last episode when the screen just blacked out - no conclusion, and the rest is up to your imagination. But for those who would like to see where I go with this, I give you…
Chapter 2: No EvilTwo days have past. Two long hard draining days.
And it's two days too long, Angel thought. As soon as Angel saw the photograph, he did everything he could to find the bastards who did it. He called Gunn and Lorne to find out anything they could with their contacts. This is Wesley, he remembered saying.
He found out that the delivery service that sent the package didn't exist and Cordelia unfortunately never saw the guy's face clearly. Wesley's packed suitcase was still in his apartment along with his passport so he never made it to England. He never even made it home before those worms snatched him.
The others were still out doing the best they can, but it wasn't good enough. Nobody's seen or heard anything suspicious or out of the ordinary. Angel didn't want to give up but all his leads led to dead ends. He hadn't slept ever since that night but he couldn't give up now. Not while Wesley was still out there god knows in what condition.
Angel fisted his hands tighter in the empty office room. He sat solitarily in the dark, not wanting to go out. He couldn't trust himself enough not to hurt the first person he saw. Then he heard someone carefully open the door.
"Angel?" Cordelia said softly as she leaned against the doorframe. Angel tilted his head and looked at her from the dark, taking in her tired and disheveled appearance. She also had been looking non-stop for any information they could get, but it in the end amounted to nothing.
"Angel, are you ok?" she asked gently. Angel looked at her with sadness. He knew she was exhausted to the point where it would break her soul.
"Cordy, go home." he said.
"What?" She said as she entered the room. She still spoke softly, evident of how close she was to the brink. But still her voice held strength. "Angel, Wesley is still out there. I can't-"
"Yes, you can." Angel stood up. "Yes, I need you, Cordy. But I can't have you walking around here half-dead. Go home, get some sleep, and come back tomorrow. I need you alert."
It was a while before Cordelia spoke and it looked like she was about to protest as she puffed up her chest but suddenly she said, "Fine." She looked like she was holding back tears but she continued, "But I'm coming back first thing tomorrow, and you bet your ass I won't stop until we find him." It seemed like she was about the say more but decided not to as she tersely turned around and walked out the front door, leaving her things behind.
Angel watched her go and after she left, went back into the office. He sat back down and put his head in his hands. All his people - they were suffering, because they were with him. He knew what was happening to Wesley was his fault. Because Wesley believed in his mission and fought by his side when he could have just walked away.
In the dark Hyperion hotel, an isolated sound was later heard, coming from the office. Hiccups of tears as Angel cried softly into his hands. He laid his head on the table and closed his eyes, and he slept into a dream of nightmares.
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"They were following me
They were following everyone
They had visions of me
Holding hands, walking into the sun"
Angel woke up to the sound of music resonating into his ears. Shaking off his drugged state, he got up and moved cautiously from behind the desk.
"Take a picture of me
And show it to everyone"
He walked slowly out the office and towards the source of the music.
"No more pictures of you
No more love, no more setting sun
Now people get down, people get down
People get hurt"
In the middle of the lobby floor was a cassette player, playing the song softly. He walked up to it and picked it up.
"When you did it to me
I was already in the dirt"
Angel pressed the stop button and the silence echoed mockingly.
His eyes looked around the lobby and then they fell upon an item waiting by the front doors. It was another package.
Angel never knew his soul could feel as heavy as it did that moment.
He slowly moved forwards, up the small steps that seemed to go on forever and yet not far enough before he was suddenly in front of it. It was bigger than the first one, bulkier, but with the same familiar brown wrapping. And on top of it all, was an envelope.
Angel picked the envelope up first. He turned it around it his hands and opened the loose flap, taking out the folded piece of paper inside. Dropping the envelope, he held the paper opened in both his hands, and slowly, read what was written:
"The ghosts of Christmas spirits visit you."
By this time, Angel knew that the innocent words were not to be taken lightly, and he was afraid of what the real message behind it was. Pocketing the letter, Angel got on his knees to open the package. He tore at the brown wrapping, the sound loud in the empty hotel. When that was done, a simple box was left before him.
Angel opened the top lid of the box and the first thing he saw was another written message, this time more like a poem, with something else silk-covered under it. The words of it stared right at him:
"The night before Christmas,
They wander your home.
One by one,
They come alone.
To the greedy and the wicked,
They bring along a moral -
Give to the needy,
Be generous to all.
Two days ago,
That's when it happened last.
You've been visited
By the ghost of Christmas past.
Don't be so sad,
You knew it will come.
Your life will be haunted
As penance of what you have done.
The clock is ticking,
It's the now that you resent.
There's been a visit
By the ghost of Christmas present…
Now isn't that nice?"
Angel crumpled the paper as soon as he reached that last line and threw it as far away from him as possible. He calmed his ragged breathing to a stop and resumed his attention to the box. There was still something else in there.
Angel took hold of the sheet of silk and lightly revealed what was shielded beneath.
It was a figurine. Three, actually, but attached as one. They were monkeys. It would've been humorous, if it wasn't for the fact that he knew what it symbolised. One covered its eyes, another covered its ears, and the last covered its mouth.
I see no evil.
I hear no evil.
I speak no evil.
The first two were drenched in red paint.
Suddenly the cassette player switched on automatically on full blast and the phone started ringing. Angel cursed and covered his ears in momentary surprise, got up to where he left the player and switched it off. He threw it against a far wall and it broke into several useless pieces. The insistent ringing of the phone brought Angel back and he almost rushed to pick it up.
"Who is this?" Angel growled.
There was a slight pause before the person on the other side said, "Mr. Angel?"
Angel allowed himself to calm down before answering. "Yeah?"
"Hello, we're from the Mary Jane's Hospital." The man said more confidently. "We have a man here named Mr. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and he has you as his emergency number. We'd -"
As soon as Angel heard Wesley's name, his guts felt like it was tied in knots. "How is he? Is he ok?" Angel asked quickly.
The man was quite for a moment before he answered. "He's… alive." He said after a slight hesitation. Then more softly "I'm sorry, sir. We need you to fill out some forms. Can you come right away?"
Angel looked around the empty hotel and his eyes rest upon the box, the figurine still inside. He took a small breath.
"I'm coming."
