The Journey, not the Destination

by Xena Avenger

An epically long fic. What happens in is? Starts with Angel fighting the dragon and Buffy helping deal with the consequences. Story begins at the end of 'Angel, Not Fade Away.' Buffy/Angel

69. All Hellmouth Breaking Loose, Pt 3

He awoke to nothing.

It was quiet and dark and completely void of any substance.

Angel felt as if he were floating, set adrift in a vast sea of nothingness.

There was no up or down, left or right, in or out.

He might have thought his body didn't exist anymore if not for the aches and pains in his muscles that reminded him, that in fact, he does exist.

His equilibrium was shot, but after an indeterminate amount of time, he began to notice a sense of motion.

Panic flooded his system as he was jarred to the left, realizing the earth beneath him was moving and alarmingly unsteady. His first conscious thought was he'd dreamed they'd made it to the exit of the cave before he collapsed from exertion, the second more alarming realization was that Buffy wasn't beside him.

With enormous effort, Angel sat up and tried to check his position.

His eyes popped open wide to evaluate the scene, except the dark orbs registered nothing save darkness.

With the ground moving as much as it was, Angel expected to hear the rocks bucking and shifting under him, but he heard only silence.

He inhaled deeply but there were no scents in the air, not the sharp sting of sulfur, not the dank smell of earth, not even the scent of his own body.

Fear washed over him, he didn't know where he was or what had happened, only that this strange world of nothingness was horrifying.

There was nothing to grasp for, not even light and dark, just a deafening silence and no way to orientate himself.

When something suddenly grabbed his arm, he reacted on instinct.

...

Willow had been watching over Angel in the back of the bus while Buffy was speaking to Giles about the recent events in the Hellmouth. The Wicca noticed him twitch then sit up with a panicked look on his face, she called his name a few times so he would know she was there before she gently laid her hand on his arm.

He flinched back as if her fingers were made of flame and took a wild swing towards her.

She yelped and jumped back, easily dodging the sloppy blow. It took her a moment to realize he only missed her because he wasn't actually looking at her.

'He's blind.' Willow thought with a pang of sorrow, watching his sightless eyes wildly scanning his surroundings. Then another thought struck her, 'He hadn't heard me either.' Her wide green eyes glanced at his ears, Buffy had clean the blood from his face and chest but she'd remembered how he'd looked when the slayers carried him onto the bus, Buffy cradling his red soaked head and upper body.

"What happened?" Buffy demanded a second later, materializing beside her friend and watching her husband worriedly as he fought unsuccessfully to gain his bearings.

Buffy noticed what Willow had a moment beforehand, her gut clenching in sorrow. 'No...please no.'

Quickly, the slayer moved forwards, being especially careful as she could tell Angel was highly strung. She barely acknowledged his game face was missing, but she could plainly see he was agitated and scared.

Neither were a good mental state when one had super strength.

"Angel." She spoke to him but instantly realized it was a useless breathe, he was currently deaf to her voice, and everything else.

Gently she touched his shoulder and correctly anticipated the fist that came at her. Having the advantage of sight over him, she easily caught his fist in a tight grip to keep him from lashing out with that arm again and simultaneously cupped his cheek in her the hand.

She felt his fight tensed muscles release instantly, alerting her that he recognized her touch.

"Whoa!" She yelped out as his other arm lashed around her waist and crushed her up against him, his face burying itself in her neck and shoulder.

She released his fist and she wrapped her arms around him, running her fingers soothingly along the back of his neck and back.

Even though she knew the words would be lost on him, she spoke quietly to him as he held her tight, listening to his adrenaline accelerated heart rate and fear ragged breaths slowly easing back to normal.

As she felt him calming, she eased him down into her lap and placed a kiss atop his head.

From the comfort of his wife's lap, the terror of the last few moments was drifting and Angel was feeling his weariness steadily overtaking his body again. Despite the cold horror of finding himself blind and deaf and unable to speak, Buffy's touch made everything seem alright again, at least for a little while.

Buffy sat quietly running her fingers though her husband's dark hair as he drifted back to a semiconscious state of sleep.

Despite the relief she felt knowing he'd regained consciousness, she couldn't help but worry over his injuries. Would he recover his vision and hearing? Or had the escape from the cavern been too much for even his demon to heal? With worry in her heart, she sat back and sent an pleading look to Willow.

The redhead sent her back a apologetic shrug, not knowing how to help her friends. "Cass will know what to do." She offered the best she could.

Buffy nodded but looked down sadly at her lover sleeping in her embrace, somehow she didn't think the doctor would be able to do much for Angel.

...

Of the 10 buss that entered LA for the battle, only three were making the journey back to Ohio. The slayer casualty count was surprisingly low, but four of the big yellow vehicles were lost during the fighting, mostly as being used as weapons. The occupants of those lost and the remaining three buses were setting up a parameter around the newborn 'Boca del Inferno'. Since Spike and Faith didn't have two young children waiting for them back in Ohio, they stayed opted in LA to oversee the slayers and keep an eye on the steady demon activity.

The buses heading back across country were avoiding the highways, there were a number of reports of some extremely unhappy demons wanting payback on Buffy and Angel for not allowing Los Angeles to turn into Hell-A. Thus the trip was slow going and each bus was taking a different route. Cassidy and her team had arrived with the original batch of slayers, but had been stationed just outside the battle lines, she was on the first bus to have departed, taking the brunt of the injured slayers with her and one of the three medical assistants.

So far, three days, three long days had been spent on the bus as it sped across country back towards Ohio. Buffy never even noticed the time though; her whole world was focused on the pale broken man lying listless in her lap.

After the tenth call in a row in half as many hours, Cassidy had promised Angel wasn't in any immediate danger and to keep him hydrated and let him rest. Buffy would have preferred if the medic had seen Angel in person to make the diagnosis instead of a trainee, but she was swamped treating the more serious injuries incurred by the influx of demons battling slayers during the Hellmouth birth. Not to mention her bus was about 150 miles ahead of them.

Angel spent the majority of the time balancing the fine line between unconsciousness and asleep, his body in severe need of downtime after exerting so much energy escaping the collapsing Hellmouth.

Buffy's worry had grown steadily as her husband remained unresponsive to most of her attempts to wake him to eat and drink. She knew he needed to eat in order to regain his strength after the burnout he'd experienced, but stubbornness was thick in his blood.

They were still a half day drive from Ohio and home when he finally stirred and abruptly sat up, Buffy was thrilled but disheartened at the same time as she realized that even awake she had no means to communicate with him. His eyes were still red and raw from the dust and sulpher, his ears and nose had stopped bleeding, but were still unable to function. The bruises around his throat from the rock demon's grip had dulled to yellow but she could tell just from the way he moved stiffly and slowly meant his neck was still too tender to allow for speech.

His healing was at an all time low.

Gently, she laid her hand on his forearm, watching him carefully for signs of impending backlash. He stiffened for a moment at the initial contact, but relaxed as he acknowledged her touch.

Food was her top priority for him at the moment, she really needed him to eat something, and from the cracking of his lips she knew a gallon on water wouldn't hurt either. Three days without food after the ordeal they'd been though in the Hellmouth was pushing the limits for even his demon to overcome, she could see the toll just sitting upright was putting on him.

Grabbing an offered water from Willow, Buffy pressed the bottle into her husband's right hand, knowing he'd be thirsty. Instead of taking it, Angel felt it for a moment to feel out what it was and pushed it back towards her, refusing it with a slight shake of his head, before the action made him grimace.

"No?" Buffy spoke automatically, shocked and confused. "But…you have to be thirsty; you've barely drank or eaten in days." The only fluids were what she'd managed to drip into his mouth while half conscious, which wasn't much.

When he made no response she remembered he couldn't actually hear her. Reaching her hand out, she gripped his and ran her thumb along his knuckles, avoiding the rough semi-healing patches where he'd found out the hard way not to punch a demon made of stone. She studied his face and tried to figure out how to talk to him when all conventional means were currently unavailable.

After a few seconds, he shifted a bit, a constant restlessness washing over him as they sat on the floor in the back of the bus. A seat would have been comfier, but Angel was too long to lie in one comfortably and she didn't want to risk him near anyone, not when he was barely conscious and unpredictable when injured.

Buffy noticed his near constant adjustments weren't helped by the motion of the bus as it skipped over a well worn road. 'He must be having trouble gaining his equilibrium with all the moving and with pretty much no ability to orient himself.' She couldn't imagine how he must be feeling right now, unable to tell night from day, where he was, what was going on, who was around him.

After a few moments, Angel slipped his hand out of hers, his jaw tensing as a general uncomfortable look crossed his face. His cheeks and forehead were flushing red, his leg muscles twitching as he shifted again.

She realized something else was bothering him besides his injures. "Willow." Buffy addressed her friend as the redhead sat in a bench seat a few feet away, "Can you have Jenny pull over at the closest rest stop?"

Willow nodded went to give the command to the young Slayer taking her turn behind the wheel of the bus.

After a few minutes, the vehicle slid to a stop in the parking lot of a gas station, one with a mini-convenience store.

Angel seemed to notice when the motion beneath him ceased, his body language practically screaming to get off the bus.

Buffy took his hand again and quickly guided him down the narrow isle towards the front, understanding what had woken him from his three day sleep and why he couldn't sit still.

As she stepped down the first step and tapped his leg to warn him of the drop, she heard a thump from behind her.

Instantly she spun around to find she'd completely spaced about warning Angel to duck when exiting the lower overhang on the stairs of the bus, and the bang had been his head off the metal ceiling.

"Angel, shit, I'm sorry!" She spoke quickly, feeling stupid.

He pulled his hand out of hers to rub the ache blooming in his skull, the pain itself was nothing compared to the helpless and embarrassed feelings washing up inside of him. It was bad enough being completely in the dark, speechless, scentless and deaf to the world, but nothing made him feel more useless than being a burden. For someone so used to independence, being led around like a dog on a leash was a real slap in the face, or in this situation, a crack on the head.

Guilt flooded her face as she helped him down the last steps, not that he could see it though. She pulled his head down low enough for her to give him an apologetic kiss over the bump, and to inspect him for any damage. Other than a red mark, he seemed fit enough and quickly stood back up and waved away her prying hands.

An 'I'm fine' gesture if there ever was one.

Tentatively, she took his arm again to lead him to the gas station's store entrance.

Once Angel and Buffy were off the vehicle, the other slayers quickly dispersed, all needing to stretch their legs and get some fresh air after being stuck of a bus for days with barely enough stops for food and hygiene calls.

Angel felt the warm sunlight vanish from his skin as he assumed they walked thought an automatic doorway, the feel of pavement under his shoed feet gave way to a thick rubbery mat followed by linoleum.

He had no idea where he was, but off what he assumed was one of their buses and inside of a building was his first conclusion. For the hundredth time since he'd woken, he wished he could simply open his eyes and see where he was and what was going on, but the same as all the other times he wished it, nothing registered in his vision when he opened his eyes to the world around him.

Squeezing them shut again, he tried to think about anything except the pressure in his bladder. As far as he was concerned, his kidneys could explode inside of him before he wet himself. He would go back to Hell before he pissed his pants.

'Much longer and I really am going to rupture something.' He thought as he cautiously walked with his wife, wondering where she was leading him and consciously clenching his hands into fists to keep from grabbing his groin.

His elbow brushed a hard surface and his hand came up to feel a doorframe, Buffy paused beside him, he felt her twisting something in her other hand before she led him into what must be another room. Beneath his feet, he thought he could feel something similar to tile.

His shoulder brushed another wall and automatically he reached out to feel it, it was smooth as most walls are, but didn't feel solid enough to be a real wall.

Buffy moved behind him and encouraged him to move forwards, another wall appeared before him, but swung out of the way. When he reached his hands out, he found he could touch both right and left walls at the same time. This was the narrowest room he'd even been inside.

After a second, he realized is wasn't a room at all, but a toilet stall, especially as he felt his wife's arms slide from behind him around his waist to unzip his pants.

'Yeah, not happening.' Unwilling to be so helpless he couldn't even take a piss on his own, he gently removed her hands from his pants and nudged her away.

Buffy frowned as he urged her out from the stall and latched it behind her, feeling rejected but understanding his fierce need for independence. After a moment, she decided he should have a few minutes to himself, she could always check on him if he took too long. Giving him some privacy, she exited the bathroom and stood outside the door, waiting to hear the sound of a flush to indicate he was done.

Angel stood practically dancing for release in front of the toilet, his body so tense he could almost taste urine. He kicked his foot out to test where the basin was, but quickly realized he couldn't actually see where his aim would go. Biting his lip, he quickly dropped his pants and sat down, holding his nearly erect from pressure member down as he finally released.

Peeing while sitting wasn't a customary feeling, but the sensation from the immediate release of pressure soon negated the idea. It felt like hours before he finished, and while in the seated position, he realized he might as well stay a little longer as his bowels decided being ignored for days was also at an end.

When he was finished, he wiped and flushed, feeling far lighter now that his body wasn't in a vise. Before regaining his humanity, he never would have guessed that finally relieving your bladder could be almost as much of a high as an orgasm.

He felt around for the lock on the stall door then eased out into the rest of the bathroom, hands spread out as he felt around for the sink. Empty space surrounded him as he slowly inched around, trying to locate a wall or something tangible. Finally his fingers brushed something and he realized it was the paper towel dispenser. After a few more long seconds, he managed to locate the sink.

No matter which way he turned the knobs, ice cold water sprayed over his hands, effectively rinsing off the soap he'd rubbed on, but not as comfortable as warm water would have been. An eternity later, he re-located the paper towels and was thinking of rewashing his hands after touching everything to find it again, but he felt Buffy as she took his arm to be his guide.

He wanted to pull away, not so much because he didn't want her touching him, but because he didn't want to feel like a dog on a leash again. However, he knew if he did, not knowing where he was would only lead into walking into something and making a bigger fool of himself.

Swallowing his bruised and battered pride, he followed.

They walked for a few seconds before Buffy stopped and remained still a few minutes, Angel though perhaps she was talking to someone. He was beginning to feel the weariness sneaking back into his muscles when Buffy took his hand and wrapped it around something, a plastic handle of some kind of bag, and she led him back into the warmth of the sun.

Angel took a few steps back when Buffy gently pushed him, he felt something press the back of his legs and he sat down wearily.

He knew he hadn't been standing long, but already his legs were grateful to have his weight off them. Now that is body was no longer over tense by the extreme pressure that had resonated from his bladder and overpowered nearly ever other thought, he was really feeling the ache in his muscles. He felt as if he hadn't slept in days.

Buffy moved them over to a grassy area beside the parking lot and deposited onto the picnic table a plastic shopping bag full of snacks and waters she'd purchased while Angel was relieving himself in the restroom. She carefully took the bag of medical supplies she'd had Angel carry from him and pulled out the eye drops she'd bought in the convenience store.

She didn't like the paleness in his cheeks, nor the still red and raw lining of his eyes, which was more prominent via the dark bags that made his face look hollow and skeletal. The sunlight made it even more prominent. His eyes themselves hadn't been brown in days, but stained red from the bleeding the debris from the cavern had wrought. The worst was the blank stare he gave, a constant reminder that blindness had taken root in those once dark chocolate pools and robbed him of his ability to see.

Gently, she cupped his chin and brought his head back so she could drip the solution into his eyes and hopefully ease the redness. He didn't resister her, so she figured he knew what she was planning. However, the moment to droplet hit his pupil, he jerked away from her, falling off the picnic bench in response to pain and shock and bringing his hand up to rub his now closed eye.

"Angel!" She automatically called, dropping down beside him and reaching out to help him.

At her touch he pulled back again, she could see the confusion and borderline panic in his rapidly blinking scarlet rimmed eyes. Blood was once again flowing down his nose from the startled movement.

'Ok, no more eye drops.' She thought, feeling like crap now for startling him when he obviously wasn't doing as well as she'd thought. Not being able to communicate with him was getting harder each moment.

Her hand touched his leg lightly, keeping gentle pressure to let him know she was there and wasn't leaving. She slipped a napkin out of her pocket and tentatively dabbed at the wetness under his nose. To her relief, he allowed her to wipe the blood away and to pinch it shut to help it clot faster. After a few minutes, when the nosebleed was over, he had calmed down enough for her to get him back to his feet.

With effort, Angel stood, but his balance was tedious at best. The shock to his system the cold liquid in his eyes had wrought seemed to have drained what little energy he'd had left, leaving him exhausted. His eyes was burning now, the drops bringing more irritation rather than relief.

He'd swallowed some of his blood as it leaked down the back of his throat; the taste was sending waves of revulsion though his guts. Deep down, he felt a cramp starting from the coppery intrusion, he realized his lack of appetite was a misconception, he was actually starving, but not for blood.

'Blood.' A chill run down his spine, the memory of sucking down the hot life fluid made him want to gag. When his demonic side was more prevalent, the idea of blood never bothered him, but right now, the vampire felt very far away, and his mortal taste buds rejected the iron flavor with extreme prodigious.

'Later' He thought, 'I'll eat after I sleep…and I stop thinking about blood.' He really hoped Buffy was leading him someplace he could lie down, because he felt about ready to drop.

They'd been walking less than a minute when the cramp in his stomach flared, bringing a sharp spike of pain that felt like a hard punch. Angel gasped and doubled over, his knees impacting the ground as he lost balance again, his hand tearing from Buffy's to catch himself from face-planting. Nausea rushed up his throat; bring a collection of dry heaves as his body fought to expel the lingering swallows of blood.

Luckily with his stomach empty, even the blood that had run down his throat was too little to regurgitate, so nothing came from his mouth save for retching sounds.

He could feel Buffy's hands on his shoulders; supporting him and trying to pull him back to his feet. He tried to help, but he couldn't tell which direction was up, the blackness surrounded him like an oppressive heavy wet cloak, blocking sounds and smells as well. His world couldn't get any darker, yet somehow the darkness managed to claim him again.

Buffy had almost gotten Angel to his feet again when he suddenly sagged like a wet towel in her arms.

…

"Buffy, what happened?" Giles and Willow rushed over to help when they'd heard the slayer call Angel's name in an obviously panicked manor. They had been leaving the two alone as Buffy had requested, to give her some time to attend her husband without prying eyes, but when they heard her yell they knew something had gone wrong and they rushed to help.

Angel was slouched over in her lap, both pale and limp while the blond was repeatedly patting his cheek as she tried to rouse him.

"Is he breathing?" Willow asked in alarm as she hurried to kneel by her friends.

"He passed out." Buffy replied, her eyes not leaving her husband's drawn face, "I don't know why, he was fine a few minutes ago."

Giles looked over the living vampire, a suspicion wandering though his mind, "Buffy, can you sense Angel's demon?" He asked, curious if his hunch was true.

The eldest slayer made a face as if the question was absurd, then suddenly her faced paled. "I…I thought so, but now…it's weak, really weak."

"As I suspected." Giles address, kneeing down level with the other three people before him, "Let's get him back to the bus."

"Suspected what?" Buffy demanded, looking up at her watcher with unhidden fear in her eyes.

Giles hooked an arm under Angel's left shoulder and helped Buffy draw him up, the unconscious man hanging between them as they each took an arm. Since Giles was far taller than Buffy, it left Angel at a noticeable angel dipping down to the right between the two.

"Let's get him comfortable first." The watcher suggested, helping Buffy haul him back to the bus as Willow hurried ahead of them to get the blankets at the back of the vehicle ready for the injured man to lay on.

After a few minutes, Buffy was seated on the floor where she'd spent the majority of the last three days, Angel's head and shoulders in her lap while Willow spread a blanket over him. As soon as Angel was settled, her eyes shot to her watcher, "Suspected what?" She repeated, her tone harboring no more delays for an answer.

Giles squatted down to be more evenly eye level with his daughter of the heart, "Basically, Angel was weakened from the escape from the Hellmouth, and now that he's has been unconscious for days without food or water…"

"Which he refused." Buffy cut him off in automatic self defense.

"Yes, I understand that Buffy, I wasn't issuing blame." The former librarian continued, "I only mean his body is weakening further without nourishment, his demon is currently too weak to act as his immune system and now he's…worsening."

"He's getting a fever." Buffy spoke in a small voice, eyes glancing down at her husband's flushed face. Already his skin was growing warmer as the demon within was losing strength. "Angel doesn't get a fever unless it's serious, like dying serious."

"He's not dying Buffy." Giles assured with more confidence than he felt, 'Not yet at least.' He added mentally before he continued out loud, "Let me procure a few items. I'll be back momentarily." With that said, he walked quickly off the bus.

Buffy nodded slowly at his words, keeping calm by listening to her husband's slow and steady breaths. His lungs sounded much better than a few days ago, when the dust caught in his lungs had left him with a rasp and coughing fits.

She really hadn't thought a lack of food would debilitate him so greatly, especially not with all the rest he'd been getting. However, she knew she was kidding herself if she thought laying in a semi-conscious state was considered restful. Wishful thinking had overruled her sense, now Angel was suffering the consequences.

With her palm placed over his heart, she could feel the rhythmic taps beneath his skin, a constant reminder he was still very much one of the living. She would prefer to keep it that way.

The young woman was still watching her husband when Giles reappeared, a juice box and a bag with some sort of canned beverage in his hands.

"I already tried to get him to drink something." Buffy spoke while Giles ripped the straw off the carton and plunged it into the thin foil opening. "He turns away."

"Let's just give this a go, shall we?" He answered as he slipped the straw in the living vampire's mouth and gently squeezed the box to spill a bit of the sweet liquid on his tongue.

At first, Angel barely responded save to automatically swallow and then unconsciously grimace from the pain it caused his bruised throat. When Buffy saw the frown, she then realized why Angel had been refusing eating and drinking, his throat was still overly sore from being strangled by the stone demon. Not to mention his over pressurized bladder had likely played a role in not wanting to consume more liquid earlier.

However, as Giles continued to drip the juice in little by little, the prone man began to respond as his thirst grew steadily stronger than the pain reflex. Angel's lips pressed onto the straw and began to suck greedily at it, quickly empting the little box.

"Do you have more of those?" Buffy asked, looking hopeful for the first time in days now that her lover was getting the fluid he desperately needed.

"Something better." Giles answered, fishing a can of Boost from the bag beside him.

Buffy scanned her eyes over the label, wondering why she hadn't though of using nutritional shakes before. It wasn't like Angel was a stranger to injury, a quick liquid meal would be far more beneficial than the usual chicken broth or water.

Angel seemed to have regained at least semi-awake status from the juice box, so she sat him up in her lap and held him still while Giles slipped a straw into the bottle of Boost and slid it between Angel's lips.

After a moment of provoking, Angel finally began to suck down the liquid meal, barely acknowledging the vanilla taste as his body greedily devoured the offered food. When the bottle was empty, Giles switched it for another, that one soon disappearing too. After a third Boost shake, Angel spit the straw from his mouth and turned away when Giles tried to slip it back in.

A smile washed over Buffy's previously tense face, letting a slight laugh escape her mouth when Angel growled and pressed his face into her shoulder to avoid the probing straw. "I guess that means no more." She spoke to her watcher as she ran her fingers calmingly down her lover's neck, feeling him nuzzling sleepily against her.

By then, the bus was in motion again, the other slayers having resumed talking, devouring purchased snacks, sleeping or otherwise occupying themselves as they had over the long ride from California thus far.

Seeing his daughter-of-the-heart's husband was presently better than he'd been a few minutes before and feeling the hard floor on his aging knees, Giles stood with the help of the nearby seat, "Yes, well I'll put the rest of these in the cooler." He indicated the remaining three drinks in the bag.

"Giles." Buffy called after him before he'd moved a few steps.

When he turned to look down at her she gave him a warm smile, "Thank you."

He returned the gesture, "No thanks are required for family."

As Giles went to sit down towards the front of the bus and give driving recommendations to the slayer behind the wheel, Buffy felt herself relaxing as Angel snuggled against her. As his arms wrapped around her waist, she knew for certain he was sleeping and no longer unconscious.

…

Buffy took a deep breath and opened her eyes, wondering when it was exactly she had closed them.

Sleep hadn't been on the schedule.

She noticed her view of the world had a strange tilt to it, until she realized it was because she was looking at the floor of the bus from a horizontal position from the ground instead of vertical while sitting.

It didn't take her long to recognize the warmth and movement under her cheek was the rhythmic rising and falling of a chest beneath her. 'Shit.' She thought, pushing herself up and looking down at the man she'd been lying on.

A smile tugged at her lips, momentarily forgetting she'd been using her injured husband as a sofa as she watched him sleep. If Angel had been bothered being used as a lounger, he gave no sign of it. He was snoring softly, the passing streetlights lighting the darkness outside reflected off his face every few moments, letting her see the tranquility on his resting features. Even in the poor lighting, she could tell the flush from his fever was already gone, her hand on his cheek confirmed his temperature was back to normal human warmth.

She could feel his demon now, not yet at full strength, but eating had strengthened Angel's mortal form and thus had also fed the vampire within. Now that the demon was regaining strength, his immune system was as well.

'When he wakes next, his hearing and eyesight should be back.' Buffy thought confidently, assuming his demonic healing would quickly heal the damage now that he was fed and hydrated.

Tearing her gaze from his face, she looked up and around at the row of bench seats lining the walls, a few of the slayers were awake and silently occupying themselves, but most were not. It was early yet, and sitting on a bus didn't generate much need for wakefulness.

Figuring the bus floor couldn't be too comfortable for her husband, Buffy slowly lifted herself off him to try and find an empty seat to occupy, or she would had if his arms hadn't tightened around her and pulled her back against him. 'Ok, I guess that means, don't move.' She thought as he growled softly and nuzzled his face into her hair.

With a grin, she rested her head back down on his shoulder, 'Let me see, he's warm, comfy and snuggly. Yeah, I suppose I can stay like this for a little while longer.' Feeling his warm body stretched out beneath her, she quickly figured out how she ended up laying on him to begin with. Since the floor didn't seem to be bothering him in the slightest, Buffy decided to abort the mission to locate a bench seat on the bus. In her personal opinion, she already had the comfiest spot.

It only felt like minutes later as she rested against his chest, but Buffy knew hours had passed as she opened her eyes again to morning sunlight and the sounds of the other slayers rousing. Looking out the numerous windows lining the walls, Buffy realized they had entered back into Ohio, and their destination of Angel Investigations was only a few blocks away.

Excitement washed over her, a bomb of relieve that the trip was finally at an end and she could have Cassidy treat Angel's wounds. Looking down at her still sleeping lover, Buffy noticed immediately his color was far better than yesterday, not perfect, but he no longer had that 'walking dead' appearance.

When she touched his cheek with her fingers, he shifted slightly towards her hand but didn't awaken. Encouraged, she used her thumb to caress his cheek this time, pushing a little harder. The effort brought movement from below her as he shifted and roused, she rose up a little as his chest lifted with a deep breath of air and exhaled a groan.

"Rise and shine sleepy head." She spoke softly, wondering if his hearing had returned yet. When he looked like he was about ready to fall back to sleep, she figured the sound was still off. "Hey, time to wake up." She said again, softer as she figured her words were lost on him as she ran her fingers though his hair to stimulate him with touch instead of words.

His eyes squeezed shut before slowly opening, those red tinted deep brown orbs remaining unfocused as he blinked the sleep from his lids.

'Still blind.' Buffy noticed a little disheartened, having hoped Angel's naturally high healing abilities would have cured his vision and hearing loss by now. Angel wasn't usually incapacitated for long.

When Angel opened his eyes, there was no change from when they were closed. For a moment he thought he was just in a dark room, but when he felt sunlight on his arm, he knew it wasn't dark outside, it was dark inside. Despite feeling his wife's hands on his body, he felt his heart rate increasing as panic assaulted his half awake mind. 'Blind, I'm really blind. Can't see, can't hear, can't even smell.'

The darkness, the silence, the complete isolation was threatening to drown him again.

Having died several times, been to Hell and spending over two centuries as a demon prowling the shadows, Angel wasn't afraid of 'the dark', but the inherent fear of being helpless rushed over him nevertheless. That primal terror that always encroached on the mind when it was most vulnerable, like when that deeply ingrained sense of reason was buried under a black and silent world and your brain suddenly has trouble deciphering between the real and imaginary.

It's what most childhood nightmares were made of, that ingrained fear of what could happen to you in the dark.

Buffy saw the signs of a panic attack building in Angel the moment he awoke to find his world awash in blackness. She felt his muscles tense as his face paled, his dark eyes widening as he fought for sight.

Honestly, she couldn't blame him for freaking, because being blind would have terrified her too, but she really didn't need for her husband to suffer a heart attack at the moment. Since her touch alone obviously wasn't enough to chase off the anxiety growing in her lover's heart, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his, hoping a kiss would distract him enough to negate the fear.

Angel's first instinct was to get away, not that he was consciously trying to 'outrun' blindness, but the impulse to flee was an ingrained auto-response shared by human and demon both. Fight or flight was in all the world's creatures, whether man or beast. And this particular man tended to have quite a bit of beast within.

Angel's world had never been so dark before, his eyes had centuries to adjust to a nocturnal nature, his night vision giving him day-like sight in even the blackest of nights. Much of his existence in this world had been as a predator; either stalking his prey or avoiding detection. In general, eyesight was crucial, and a blind predator doesn't last very long in the food chain.

Buffy's lips held tightly to her husband's hoping he'd respond to her love and not the growing tension in his head. She fought hard to counter act his fears, pressing harder against him as he tried to push her off, but since the flight mechanism wasn't working, he auto-switched to fight.

Instead of pushing away, he suddenly yanked her closer, his mouth attacking hers, devouring her offered kisses with his own desperate tongue. He fed off her nearness, her solid form centering him, give his soundless, dark and scentless world a physical tangible existence.

He had something to hold on to.

The nothingness solidified around him, cementing him back into the world. Despite not being able to see her, Angel could feel his wife's body against his, now could even feel the thumping of her heart as she leaned in closer. Her hot breath exhaled out her nose and against the stubble under his as she pushed her tongue deeper into his mouth.

Buffy sank into him further as she felt him responding to her touch. She could feel his focus switching away from the dark and completely towards her, allowing her body to be the distraction he needed to regain his control.

As his sense of balance in the world returned, he parted his lips from hers and sank his face into his mark on her throat. He could feel her heart thumping strong against his mouth, could almost taste her bold slayer blood just under the skin. Her heartbeat was missing from his world still, but the sound of the precious organ in his ears was nothing compared to the feel of it upon his skin. The thump, thump, thump beat steadily under his cheek.

As his own racing heart rate returned to normal, he sat quietly feeling his wife's body wrapped in his arms, just absorbing her warmth and presence, letting her solid form center him.

He let go reluctantly as she slipped out of his embrace, her hand brushing down his cheek and caressing his brow as a sign of affection and support. He also figured she was checking his temperature to validate his fever was gone.

Her lips pressed against his temple, then came the steady motion of her thumb rubbing along the back of his neck.

He knew she worried that spot to calm herself almost as often as she did it for his sake, if not more. Had he been a dog, his leg might have started twitching as one often does when patted the right way.

Instead, a low growl escaped from deep within his chest, the kind Buffy always thought kinda sounded like a purr. She'd learned over time to not tell him that, as it tended to piss him off. Being deaf to sound, she knew he didn't hear it and was more than likely unaware of it, so she bit her lip to keep from smiling and leaned in closer to him, feeling the vibrations from resonating growl more than hearing it anyways.

As she sat there hugging her rumbly honey, a funny thought cross her mind. 'Since marrying a living vampire, I seemed to have become fluent in growl.' Before meeting Angel, all vampric growling had sounded the same to her. Now however, she could easily pick out the differences between the deep threatening roars and the low pleasurable rumbles.

From underneath him, Angel felt the forward motion of what he assumed was the bus stopping, then the feel of thumping as many feet suddenly began to impact the floor, likely the other slayers getting off the vehicle. 'Where are we now?' He wondered, having no sense of location. For all he knew, they could still be in LA.

When he felt no more vibrations in the floor, Buffy stood and helped him up, taking his hand and leading him off the bus as well. He was glad the others were gone, being a spectacle wasn't exactly something he strove for, much less when he couldn't even see who saw what. He could easily imagine how ridiculous he looked being led around, especially since he knew how it felt.

He hated being weak.

This time, Buffy made sure he ducked as they descended the few steps and onto what felt like pavement. Sunlight washed over him and she stopped, he figured she must be talking to someone.

It bothered him intensely that he had no idea what was going on. His wife could be talking to another slayer, Willow, a stranger, or a demon about to devour her…and he was just standing there doing nothing, clueless and useless.

'Useless.' The word echoed in him mind.

Buffy's relief at reaching Angel Investigations was only dulled by the eagerness to see her children. She was thinking of what would be the best time to call home and inform her sister and step-son they were back. She was planning to wait until Cassidy had the chance to look over Angel first and get a prognosis, and then worry crept into her mind on how the kids would take their father being blind.

Her thoughts were slashed to piece as Connor stood grinning at the entrance of the building, watching them exit the bus. A smile that faded as he watched his father moving blindly at Buffy side and realized although he was walking under his own power, his sire hadn't returned unscathed from the battle.

With alarm flashing in the young man's blue eyes, he quickly ran the few hundred feet from the doorway to the parking spot, "Dad?" He called out, worry crossing his face as he reached out to help.

Immediately Connor noticed Angel's lack of response to his voice, his gaze quickly turning to the woman he loved as a mother, "Mom, what happened? Is dad…" He couldn't complete the sentence.

Buffy pressed her lips together and nodded before finishing the sentence for him, "Yeah Connor, he's…he's blind. He used his senses to navigate the collapsing tunnels, he got us out but…the noise and dust were too much for him…he lost his hearing and sense of smell too."

Connor didn't know what to say or to do. It was true he hadn't had grown up with Angel due to Holtz kidnapping him, but in all the time he had known his father he had always been 'larger than life', a hero undefeated. To see the once proud man standing so broken, with a lost and vacant look in his eyes, it was heart wrenching.

"Is it…permanent?" Connor questioned quietly, as if the words could make it so.

Buffy looked up at her husband, watching the uncertainty washing over his face as he tried to understand want was going on. "I don't know." She answered truthfully, squeezing her husband's hand reassuringly and trying not to think about the fact it had already lasted four days. "Cass will know once she examines him." She just hoped it was good news the doctor would provide.

Angel gasped in surprise as someone suddenly and rather strongly grabbed him around the waist and buried their face into his chest. He knew it hadn't been Buffy, as her hand was still in his when the assault happened.

He didn't know many people that would grab him like this, or as tightly, other than his kids. As he reached his hands up to feel the body hugging him, he felt Buffy pulling her arms around him too. 'Connor.' He thought with mixed emotions, feeling his son's shoulder length hair brushing his palm. He was glad to have his son with him, to know the boy was ok, but at the same time he knew the improve hug was more sympathy than anything else.

'He knows I'm blind…useless.'

Having had his fill of pity for the moment, Angel nudged away from his wife and son, hoping to find a place to lie down for a while. Despite resting nearly constantly for what had to have been days, he still felt like he was walking around with a ton of bricks on his shoulders.

Buffy felt Angel's impatience growing shorter and suggested she bring her husband directly to the Med-ward to have Cass check him over.

Connor nodded, wanting to help. He put his father's hand on his shoulder to help guide him without being too invasive.

When he nearly stumbled, Buffy realized Angel was still a lot weaker than she'd hoped he'd be by now. Determined even more now, she moved as quickly as he could manage to the basement where the medical center was located. When the elevator doors opened, she and Connor were nearly carrying Angel by then, the taller man's legs were starting to shake with effort.

Buffy shouldered the Med-ward doors open and helped Angel in as Connor went to get Cassidy from her office down the hall.

A few dozen slayers that had been serious wounded in the battle in LA were resting on most of the cots in the large room, most were sleeping or medically unconscious while a few looked over at Buffy and watched her leading Angel towards an empty bed.

She was just about to lower Angel onto the closest available cot when Dawn calling her name from behind her caught her attention. As she turned to address her sister, Liam dropped his aunt's hand came running into the room, yelling out a happy chorus of "Mommy!" and "Daddy!"

Before Buffy could help Angel sit, Liam latched a hold of his mother's leg when he reached her, his hazel-green eyes shinning bright and his mouth one big grim. Kneeing down to greet him, she wrapped her arms around her two year old son and kissed his cheek, "There's my big boy. I missed you so much. Mommy has to help Daddy for a few minutes, ok sweetie?"

Like a silent heat-seeking missile, Katie ran from Cassidy's office where she'd been playing nurse with a doll when she felt her parents growing near. She dove though Connor's legs as he was entering the office and flew down the hall before breezing past Dawn and charging right for her daddy.

While still kneeling with Liam, Buffy saw it right before it happened. She shouted out to Katie to stop, but it came too late. The little girl was already in motion, jumping up and expecting her daddy to catch her, completely unaware that he could neither see nor hear her coming.

Angel felt Buffy move away a moment before and was wondering what was going on when something slammed into him. He felt his heart jump into his throat as he reflexively caught whatever hit him, but the impact mixed with his weakness and total lack of perception sent him reeling backwards.

His ass hit the ground hard as he dropped, momentum bringing his back and head down to smack the floor a second later. The object wrapped in his arms had prevented him from catching himself in the fall, but despite the fact the impact had hurt like hell, he didn't mind one bit. He didn't need to see or hear or smell to know it was his daughter that had tackled him. With a grin, he sat up and pulled the squirming almost four year old laying on him in closer and kissed her cheek.

His tailbone was throbbing, as were his back and head, but knowing his little girl, and assumed his youngest son, were safe had eased the constant worry that had been gnarring at the back of his mind since he'd watched Connor, Dawn and his children disappearing as the bus towards Hemrey High drove him away. He was back in Ohio with his family; pain couldn't compete with that kind of relief.

Katie had been scared when she felt her father falling backwards, he'd never fallen before when she'd ran to him and now she was afraid he had an ouch and had hurt him worse. She turned her wide chocolate brown eyes on him in fear he'd scold her for knocking him over, but he smiled and kissed her instead.

The same smile mirrored over her face, "No kissy Daddy, yucky." She laughed out before looking up into his face and seeing his eyes. Katie had seen her father's eyes both brown and gold before, even all black once, but never red. That fear he had an ouch came back again as she questioned his eye color. When he didn't respond she turned to her mother, "Mommy? What's wrong with Daddy? Why doesn't he look at me or talk back? Is he mad?"

Buffy finally swallowed the anxiety attack that had threatened her a second ago, watching helplessly as Angel collapsed under Katie's assault. Relieved that the Katie-collision hadn't caused her spouse any visible damage, Buffy turned her eyes off her husband and towards her daughter, "No baby, Daddy's not mad. He can't see or hear you honey, he has an ouch inside."

"Daddy ouch?" Liam echoed, unwinding from Buffy's leg and rushing over to his father to see for himself.

Buffy took a deep breath and took the few steps to kneel beside her family, Angel was oblivious to the speaking, he just smiled wider as Liam hugged him and he pulled the boy into his lap with his sister.

"Daddy will be ok..." Buffy began, trying to figure out how to tell them what happened, but Angel starting tickling them, which immediately replaced their questions with laughter.

Katie and Liam were shrieking laugher as Angel grinned to himself, the children wriggling in his lap like hooked fish as they tied to free themselves of their father's ticklish fingers.

"Should I leave you guys alone?" The younger Summers asked, now standing beside her older but shorter sister. Buffy tore her eyes off her husband and kids to look up at her sister. With a well of relief, Buffy stood and faced the younger woman, "No, they seem to be occupied for the moment."

Dawn nodded, her lips quirking up a bit as she watched her brother-in-law playing with the two on his lap, at the moment, she wasn't sure who was winning.

"How did you know to meet us here?" Buffy asked the young woman as she eyed her sister warily. Despite it turning out well enough, her heart was still pounding from seeing Angel drop with their daughter.

Dawn looked over at her sister with a raised eyebrow in the traditional Summer's fashion, "Since when does Angel not end up in the hospital after an epic battle? Besides, Cass has been short staffed and those little monsters have been keeping morale up for the girls."

Buffy frowned at the idea of predicting Angel would be injured, but let out a sigh, "Ok, point." 'So I'm not the only one who noticed my husband likes to forget his 'this-never-used-to-be-able-to-kill-me-but-totally-can-now' human side more often than not.'

Glancing around the room at the filled beds, Buffy felt extremely thankful so many slayers had survived the battle.

The two sisters were silent a moment, the only sounds in the room in the form of laughing toddlers. Buffy looked over at her little sister again, wanting to express to her how grateful she was to the younger woman for caring for her children and bringing them out of LA before all Hell broke loose. There were a million little things to show her gratitude for, but before she could even open her mouth, Dawn laid a hand on her shoulder, "I know." She said quietly, looking into her sister's hazel-green eyes, "If she could be here, Mom would have done the same."

A sad smile tugged at the blonde's lips a moment before she replied, "No, if Mom was here I'd have to make reservations to see my kids at all."

Dawn mirrored her grin, "Probably right. She would have been the best grandma."

"Yeah." Buffy replied wishfully, then noticed it was time to stop Angel from tickling the kids as they were laughing so hard breathing was becoming an issue.

Cassidy and Connor entered into the room a moment later, Katie and Liam were still giggling as Dawn took their hands and Buffy helped Angel up to sit on one of the cots.

Buffy's hazel-green eyes scanned the back of her spouses head for a bump, she knew he'd hit the ground pretty hard. The grin on his lips didn't hide the pain she knew he was feeling.

Now that the soothing balm of his kids was gone, the living vampire was less than enjoyed at being in the Med-ward again, which he figured out after feeling the cot beneath him. Neither his home nor any hotels would have medical cots, and he knew Buffy wouldn't bring him to a real hospital, not unless his life was in immediate jeopardy. Standard hospitals weren't great for treating people who were more than human, especially if you were trying to live under the radar.

Cassidy nodded to Buffy and moved over to her medical bag, slipped her stethoscope around her neck, and then turned to look over her newest patient from afar. Connor had filled her in on the details he'd learned from Buffy.

Sharp grey eyes scanned over Angel as he sat hunched on the small bed, scowl firmly in place. 'Great, Angel isn't exactly Mr. Congeniality under normal circumstances, factor in both blind and deaf, this could be bad…for me.' The last thing she needed was Angel's demon snarling after her in a blind rage and not be able to hear Buffy yelling at him to stop. Not to mention the risk to the injured young woman around them.

Dawn used the guise of lunch as a distraction for the kids. Katie and Liam both immediately picked up on Daddy not answering questions or looking at them, but Buffy repeated to them that Daddy had an ouch and promised he'd be ok later. She just hoped she hadn't lied.

Buffy sat down on the cot beside her husband, sending Cass a worried look while the blond absently rubbed her thumb over her husband's knuckles. Connor stood off to the side, wanting to be there for his dad and hear what Cassidy's prognosis would be.

Taking a calming breath, the medic stood in front of the living vampire, trying to decide how to handle this situation. It wasn't like she could just show or tell Angel what she wanted, and he wasn't the biggest fan of touch, at least not from people outside his family.

Realizing she had no better methods, she gently touched her hand to the one Buffy wasn't holding, to let him know she was there. His face turned towards the contact, acknowledging he'd felt it, but he made no move to pull away or try and speak.

With a glance to Buffy, the blond nodded for her to continue.

Switching to a more natural rhythm, she checked Angel's vitals, using light touch to prompt him to breathe deep so she could hear his lungs. Normally, she'd skip using the pen-light to check his pupils since she usually got at best a growl and at worst a clawed hand raking for her throat. She learned very quickly not to shine a light into a vampire's eyes, even a living one. However, due to the circumstances, she thought it would be beneficial to take a look.

When the bright light flashed into those dark brown orbs, Angel gave no reaction, neither did his pupils. Cass cringed as she examined the damage within the sockets; some of the capillaries had burst, leaving the whites of his eyes bloody red, which gave him a nearly vamped appearance upon fist glance. The rims and lids were raw as well, evidence of the dust and debris that had assaulted him during the escape from the Hellmouth.

Buffy frowned at the lack of reaction from her spouse, disheartened that his vision was no better after a few days of rest. Other than stopping bleeding, she saw no signs of improvement or healing.

Cassidy moved on to examine his ears and nose, neither of which Angel seemed to enjoy but remained statue still during, abet with a tense jaw. When Cass moved her fingers up to check the too slowly fading bruise under his neck, he jerked back and caught her hand in a tight grip.

The medic froze with horror as images of him ripping her hand off flooded her mind, but instead of intense pain and agony, he simply moved her hand away from him before releasing her unharmed.

"Ok." Cass spoke tensely to the blond beside her, "I'm going to take that as a 'Don't touch my neck, it hurts.'"

"I think that would be a fair guess." Buffy answered distractedly. She had been ready to subdue her husband when he had grabbed Cass, but she hadn't felt his demon reacting negatively towards the medic so hadn't interfered. In fact, she was now focusing more on how quiet the vampire within had been for the last few days, too quiet.

"Cass." The slayer spoke quietly, "Angel's demon was fading out during the ride here, I think it's too weak to present." She updated Cass on how he'd collapsed and Giles's suggestion to force down a few liquid meals.

The good doctor looked Angel's vitals over and nodded, "He's dehydrated, mal-nourished and both physically and mentally fatigued. Under those conditions, I would be surprised to see his healing at full strength. The Boost drinks you gave him are pretty much all that's keeping him upright at the moment." She picked up a gauze pad and dipped it in disinfectant, cleaning up some of the scratches on his arms from the sharp rocks in the collapsing cavern. The fact they hadn't already fully healed supported the conclusion that his demon healing wasn't up to par yet.

The next step Angel wasn't exactly co-operative with, but as he wasn't exactly at full strength he was too fatigued to put up much of a fight. Cass had him rinse his eyes out at the eye-wash station, and then did a similar cleaning of his ears and nose to remove the dried blood and dirt.

By the end, Angel was more than annoyed. Buffy could see the tension in him, felt it in his muscles as he brooded on the cot. He was tired, that was obvious, which in turn was making him cranky.

"So what do we do now?" Buffy asked as she ran her fingers calmingly threw Angel's hair, figuring Cass would want to keep him a few days, run tests and hook him up to her equipment.

All-in-all, the medic was pleasantly surprised she hadn't gotten clawed during the cleaning process; she knew he'd been contemplating it. Although it was more likely the weakness in the demon and Connor and Buffy's constant grip on his arms that saved her from receiving a new set of scars.

"I've done all I can." The redheaded doctor said as she wiped her hands down with an antiseptic wipe.

Buffy looked back at her with a slack jaw, her mouth attempting to form words for a moment before regaining speech, "What? That's it?"

Cassidy tossed the wipe into the garbage pail by her left foot and turned to the blond standing beside her, "Buffy, I can administer medications, perform surgeries and run diagnostics, but unfortunately I simply have no medical treatments to help Angel. I cleaned and bandaged the wounds and gave him a painkiller so he can rest, but as much as I wish I could, there is nothing I can do to restore his senses. To be perfectly honest, what he needs is to go home. Put him someplace familiar and get him to rest. I can stick him with an IV, but real food would be better and he'll actually sleep in his own bed versus a cot."

Buffy swallowed but nodded at the logic. She knew her husband hated the Med-ward, even if he couldn't see it. He did heal faster at home, and as a bonus it would be easier to keep the kids entertained there instead of here. Her eyes scanned around the area, noticing the numerous young woman sporting bandages and IV's, those that were too physically injured to be anywhere else. Angel's injuries were incapacitating but not life threatening, he didn't need to be here.

Absently rubbing the back of Angel's neck, Buffy agreed. "You're right, I need to take him home."

"I'll drive." Connor volunteered.

Buffy looked over at the young man, having forgotten he was there. He'd helped Buffy hold Angel a few times, when the living vampire had shown his discomfort for being prodded, especially while Cass had been rinsing his injured eyes, nose and ears. Between the two, they'd kept him subdued, especially as weak as he was. It was more of a calming with touch than physically restraining him, which was good for all involved.

Since the Summer's family SUV had been ripped apart half way to LA and Angel's GTX was parked in the driveway at home, Connor pulled his car around to the back of AI to collect the group. While waiting for Buffy to guide Angel up from the Med-ward, he belted his siblings into their car seats after Dawn brought the kids down from the cafe.

After almost a week playing 'mom', the younger Summers was finally relieved of her niece and nephew and went to get so much needed rest.

The living vampire was leaning heavily against his wife as they walked, he was exhausted and the pain relievers Cass had given him were numbing the aches that had been keeping him awake. He didn't know where he was going, but he hoped it wasn't far. Surprise was his first thought as Buffy led him out of the Med-ward, he though for sure he'd been spending the next few days strapped onto an uncomfortable cot. As much as he hated it, at least he'd been sitting and was actually contemplating going to sleep before Buffy pulled him up and began walking. He knew they weren't going up to the cafe or offices, as there had been no elevator or stairs up, so he hoped home was their destination.

Buffy held her worry in check while she brought her lethargic spouse out the back of AI into the basement parking lot, she thought it best to avoid the stairs and use the ground level entrance which was usually only used in emergencies for the Medical van.

After a few minutes, everyone was packed into the car and rolling the short drive to the Summer's family home. The only talk came from the two in the car who's ages were still countable on one hand.

Angel was more asleep than awake as they pulled into the driveway, Buffy having to drag him out of the front seat and prod him into walking again. As Connor was freeing the kids from their car seats, Buffy half carried her husband into the house. She'd planned to get him into their bed, where she could change him into fresh clothes and he'd be most comfy. However Angel didn't seem strong or awake enough for stairs, instead she moved him over to the couch and he gratefully sank onto it. In less than 10 seconds, he pulled a pillow under his face, rolled over and was fast asleep.

Buffy watched him for a moment, a frown on her lips at how fast he'd dropped. She ran her hand down the back of his neck affectionately before pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and spreading it over him. Her frown faded into a light smile as he started to snore softly. She bent and planted a kiss on the top of his head a moment before the kids came rushing into the house, a hard-core game of tag in process. Buffy was about to scold them for yelling, but then remembered Angel couldn't hear them, so she let then have their fun as it wouldn't disturb their resting father.

Connor entered into the living room, watching his step-mom while she watched her children began to play with the treasures from their toy boxes in the corner. "Want me to watch him?" He offered, knowing Buffy was desperate to spend some time with the kids after being without them for so long.

Her hesitation lasted only a moment, as the kids rushed over to her, both wanting her to play with them. "Thank you." She told the son of her heart as she was forcefully dragged by little hands upstairs to play with her babies that she'd missed for almost a week now.

The young man glanced over at his father, he could hear Angel's heartbeat and breathing just as well as any vampire, so he knew he was out cold for the time being. Settling down on the seat beside the couch, he flipped on the flat screen TV hanging on the mantle above the fireplace, the only one in the house and not well used except for playing movies for the kids. After flipping the stations for a moment, he grinned as the latest hockey game popped on. As he watched, he tired to figure out how to tell his dad the score when it ended.

…

Angel opened his eyes and looked over at the newborn girl staring back at him, her tiny eyes barely able to open. 'You let me die.' Those sky blue eyes accused, 'you let those men kill me.'

"I…I had no choice." He forced back, his throat tight with guilt.

Her little eyes narrowed as if in anger, 'You had a choice, you chose to watch as a knife plunged into my innocent heart.'

"The seal…the Hellmouth had to be sealed." He tried to defend is failure, the words sounding empty even in his own voice.

The blue eyes faded to brown, the same shade as his own, the small face changing into Katie's. 'Would you have made the same choice if it was me, Daddy?'

Before he could reply, the sacrifice reset, this time his own newborn daughter was screaming in the Hellmouth cavern, held captive by the guardians as they chanted their spells.

The knife fell towards her unprotected chest.

"No!" He screamed, rushing forwards in a blind panic.

Connor nearly fell out of his chair as Angel bolted upright, a panicked look washing over his face, a silent scream on his lips. His heartbeat had tripled within seconds, bringing raw and ragged breaths as the living vampire struggled against the blanket covering him.

Within a second, Connor was up and at his father's side, grabbing the flailing man and holding him down as he fought the nightmare still plaguing his mind.

Angel automatically grabbed for whatever had grasped him, his face shifting as the demon responded to the contact and raging for a fight.

Without delay, he bit, hard.

Connor's mouth dropped open in shock as his father's sharp fangs tore into his neck, his whole body tensing at the sensation, a paralysis gripping over him. In all his years in Quor'Toth, he'd never been bitten; despite his paternity, he instantly found he didn't like it much.

The demon raged within Angel, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of thick rich blood, a taste he hadn't had in years. For a moment, he couldn't place the flavor, but it was too delicious to waste time thinking it over. In moments, he felt the heart struggling with loss, then the organ shuttered and fell still, mirroring the corpse in his arms.

As the body fell away, the source of the flavor on his lips came to him in a sudden wave, Connor's blood.

He'd just killed his son.

With a wave of nausea, Angel bolted upright in a silent yell of horror. The world around him was the same shade of dark as when his eyes were closed, the world just as silent and scentless. His arms were shaking, his body covered in a cold sweat, the taste of blood still washing over his mouth. His gut constricted tightly, threatening to purge his last meal, although at the moment he couldn't remember when that had been. 'Connor!' Angel thought desperately, feeling around him, trying to locate his boy. The memory of his fangs sinking into him son's throat was haunting him, mixing with the heart retching sight of his little girl being murdered before his eyes. 'Gone.' He thought miserably, 'They're both gone.'

From the kitchen, Connor suddenly heard his father's heart rate skyrocket and realized he must have awaken and panicked from the blindness. He forgot the sandwich he was making and rushed into the living room, calling out to his father.

Angel was milk white, sweating and shaking, his body tense as red tears streamed down his face. The worst sight was the blood. It flowed down his eyes and nose, his shirt wetting as the sticky liquid ran down his neck from his ears. The wounds he'd sustained in the cavern had opened from the sudden increase in blood pressure and Angel straining to use his damaged senses.

"Shit." Connor said aloud as he moved to help his father, worried at the seemingly unfounded bleeding.

When Angel suddenly turned a deep shade of green, Connor cringed and grabbed the bucket by the fireplace a few feet away, which was usually for cleaning the ashes from the fire. He shoved the pail under his father's chin a moment before the living vampire pitched forwards as his stomach violently voided its contents, which fortunately the empty organ offered nothing more than bile and acid.

When the cramps and dry heaves began to settle, Angel swallowed and shakily wiped his lips with the back of his hand, the remaining stomach acid left a vile taste in his mouth as he felting it stinging back down his throat. Blood smeared across his mouth, bringing the dizziness back, his head feeling too heavy but somehow too light at the same time. With the world so dark, he could barely tell which direction was up. 'Fall over.' He told himself, 'you'll at least know which direction is down'.

Connor winced as he lightly touched his father's shoulder, making the older man jump from the unexpected contact. Before the younger man could move away, Angel yanked him into a bear hug, the kind that would have crushed a normal person.

"Whoa! Dad? What?" He struggled a moment, a little unnerved by the sudden burst of affection.

"Connor?" Buffy's worried voice called from upstairs, something didn't feel right with Angel, "Is everything ok?"

"Umm…kinda yes and no." He answered, trying to free himself from Angel's tight grip.

A second later, Katie was dragging her mother down the stairs, constantly repeating 'Daddy's ouch again' as she tried to wrestle away. When Buffy's vision cleared the wall and was able to look down into the living room from the stairway, she gasped at the sight of her husband's face once again covered in blood.

Katie took the opportunity to slip her hand away from Buffy's and rushed down the remaining stairs and across the living room to her dad.

'He's alive, Connor's alive, my boy is alive.' Was repeating though Angel's mind as he hugged his son against him, thanking any god/higher power/force of nature that he hadn't killed his first born child. The dream had been so vivid, especially with the taste of blood still in his mouth, he'd really thought he'd murdered his son. But the living, breathing proof was wrapped in his arms right now, his struggles to be free evidence of life. Angel wouldn't have let go yet, but a sudden impact drew his undivided attention. He knew the small arms that wrapped around him, holding him like a well loved security blanket. Another wave of relief rushed over him as he forfeited one of the arms holding Connor to wrap around his little Katie. The image of her being sacrificed was still vivid in his mind, but as he held her the potency of his horror faded as he accepted it wasn't real, his baby girl was safe and very much alive.

Buffy hurried into the bathroom and grabbed a face cloth, wetting it under the sink and jogging over to her husband. "What happened?" She demanded to Connor as she set to mopping the blood away from her lover's face before it seeped into the couch or onto their children.

Liam stood by the side of the couch, his big hazel-green eyes scanning between his mommy, daddy, sister and big brother. His brow furrowed at the red his mommy was washing from his daddy's face, he knew red meant ouch. Wrapping his arms around his daddy's leg, he held tight and hoped the hug would make the pain go away, Katie and Connor were already doing it.

Angel felt his youngest son gripping is leg, while Buffy was running a wet cloth over his face. He wasn't sure why, but quickly realized the taste of blood in his mouth hadn't been Connor's, but is own. As his heart rate returned to normal and the panic, nausea and fear faded, a wave of embarrassment rushed over him for being sick then overly clingy in front of his kids.

'Nothing shows how strong you are like throwing up then weeping like a baby.' He thought darkly as heat rushed his cheeks. He released the two in his arms, his oldest moving away quickly while Katie shifted to sit beside him.

Buffy watched as Angel's cheeks flushed, for a second she though it was a sign of fever, then realized as the red tint spread across his neck and ears that he was embarrassed. Leaning over, she pressed her lips to his forehead to reassure him everything was ok.

"Connor, can you bring some water and crackers?" She asked, wanting to take advantage of Angel being awake and getting some fluids and substance back into him.

"Sure." He replied as he headed into the kitchen to get the requested items, glad to be free of his dad's crushing grip but still eager to help.

The bleeding had stopped, for that Buffy was grateful, however the red liquid had already stained Angel's shirt and both Connor's and Katie's as well.

Liam had smartly stayed clear of the mess.

When the young man returned from the kitchen with the water and crackers, Buffy sent him upstairs with Katie to wash and change.

Angel wasn't all that interested in the food, but gulped down the water greedily to rinse the taste of bile from his mouth and soothe his sore throat. To prevent him retching again from drinking too much water at once, she took the glass away before he could finish and in turn pressed a few crackers into his hand to enforce that she wanted him to eat something to help settle his restless stomach.

Begrudgingly he chewed and swallowed, the now fading nausea less able to overpower the growing hunger had been largely ignored whilst he'd slept.

Figuring he would eat soon enough at dinner, cleaning the blood off came as a higher priority for Buffy at the moment, especially if he was going to be handling the kids. Taking his hand and helping him up, she guided him on slightly wobbly legs to the bathroom beside the kitchen, Liam following silent behind them after collecting his toy truck.

Once in the bathroom, she had Angel sit on the closed toilet rather than lean over, both so he would be at a more accessible level for her shorter stature and be less straining on his back.

Wetting new fresh facecloth, she pulled his t-shirt up over his head and began to wash the blood staining his neck. Some had flowed below his collar, leaving long finger-like lines down the middle of his upper chest.

Liam watched for a moment before he began to run his truck along the bathroom floor, making 'vroom, vroom' sounds as he entertained himself.

Before she was half way finished, Angel began to grown restless. He never did have the patience for being a patient.

Angel felt like a baby, being washed as if he was incapable of holding a cloth. There had been plenty of times Buffy had acted as a nurse for him, a few of them when he was actually hurt, but right now he felt no pleasure in this. He hated being helpless, much more so when he was capable of doing something about it.

Other than a minor headache, he felt fine now, he certainly didn't think he was in bad enough shape to be treated like a infant that spit up on himself. Acting on that idea, he reached out his right hand and grasped his wife's arm, putting just enough pressure to get the point across that he was done.

Buffy saw the stubbornness mask over his husband's face a moment before his hand grasped hers, she knew it was only a matter of time before he got cranky over it. Rolling her eyes at her lover's bull-headedness she easily slipped her arm away and called out for her secret weapon to come over for a moment.

Liam crawled over slowly, running the truck along the tiles to where his parents were, 'Vrooming' as he went.

"You want to help mommy with daddy?" She asked the almost three year old, a smile on her lips.

His mother's smile helped ease the nervousness he felt over daddy having an ouch, his mommy wouldn't smile if something bad was happening to daddy. The little blond head nodded in agreement as he stood up by his father's leg, resting his truck on his knee.

Angel felt something hard and cool touching his leg, but when he reached a hand out to inspect what it was, Buffy snatched the appendage up and rubbed the wet cloth over his skin. He assumed from the feel of it he'd smeared blood on his palm earlier when he'd wiped his mouth. When she let him go, he touched the object that was repeatedly rolling over his knee. Without the benefit of sight, he had trouble figuring out what it was for a moment, before a small hand grasped his finger and pulled the object away.

'Liam's toy truck' He realized, now recognizing the feel of the plastic frame and wheels moving over his pants. He'd gotten fairly familiar with the toy over the last few months, his boy barely put it down, even slept with it clutched in his little hand.

His ears didn't hear it, but the words, 'No daddy, my truck' weren't hard imagined as the little boy freed the toy from his fingers.

"Share with Daddy, he wants to play too." Buffy encouraged the boy, needing him to act as a distraction for Angel so she could finish cleaning her husband.

Liam looked as if he were contemplating it for a second before nodding and handing the toy to his father, which wasn't able to see the action.

"Remember honey, daddy can't see you. You need to put it in his hand." She reminded her son.

The blond boy blinked a moment, and then pressed the toy into Angel slack palm. "Daddy play."

Angel slowly closed him fingers around the toy, then Liam pulled it out quickly before his grip tightened, giggling as he did. After a second, Angel opened his hand again and Liam touched the toy to his father's palm. For a second time, Liam pulled the toy back before Angel completely closed his hand. Angel wasn't sure what was going on for a moment, but then he felt his boy lean against his leg, the small body shaking with giggles. Figuring out the nature of the game, Angel opened his hand again and waited for the toy to touch his palm.

Once he got engaged playing with Liam, Buffy was able to finish cleaning the blood off her spouse free of any demony crankiness.

…

Connor was munching the sandwich he'd forgotten about earlier while Katie was sipping juice when Buffy enter the kitchen. She'd left her cleaned and changed husband and son in the living room to continue their game while she went to investigate what to do about dinner. When it came to cooking on stove or in oven, she tended to burn everything, but when it came to the microwave, she'd gotten pretty well.

Knowing Connor had a bottomless stomach, like his dad, she pulled out a double pack of frozen chicken fingers and placed them on a plate before tossing them into the microwave.

Sure, they would have tasted better in the oven, but she tended to get distracted too easily and it was more likely they'd end up overcooked, if not on fire.

The remainder of the evening passed by uneventfully, Connor helped Buffy salvage dinner, which consisted of a great deal of ketchup to make it palatable. After they'd eaten, the family retreated into the living room where the kids played with their cars and dolls and the two sighted adults watched a little TV.

Angel sat quietly on the couch; he could feel his eldest son beside him to the left while his wife was nestled up under his right arm. In the dark and quiet solitude, he found it hard to stay awake. Now that the nausea was gone and his stomach full, it further lulled him towards sleep. Without sounds to distract him, sight to focus on something, or even smell to spark an interest, Angel had nothing stimulating his mind. His wife's body heat warmed him, the closeness relaxing…without realizing it, he drifted to sleep.

When Buffy felt the constant tension that had been plaguing her husband since loosing his sight suddenly fade, she didn't have to look up to know he'd fallen asleep. She smirked a little as he shifted slightly in his doze, nuzzling his face into her hair as his cheek rested on the crown of her head.

An hour passed before the kids were tired enough to offer the prospect of bed without too much protest. Buffy carefully untangled from Angel's arms and Connor helped her lay him flat on the couch. She gave the sleeping man a chase kiss on his forehead before herding the toddlers upstairs to change them into their PJs and put them into bed.

Connor was finishing up the end of the movie when Buffy came back down to relieve him of his 'dad-sitting' duties. Buffy wasn't going to be leaving Angel alone again, especially without him being able to yell out if something was wrong. The young man gave his still sleeping father a quick manly kiss before he headed up to his own bedroom to retire for the night. He had a trip planned with friends for the following morning that would require an early departure. He'd offered to cancel to stay and help with his father, but Buffy insisted he go have fun and she would be perfectly capable of handling both Angel and the kids herself.

Once alone in the living room with her love, Buffy sat on the couch beside him and ran her fingers along his cheek to rouse him. The thought to stay down here with him on the couch had crossed her mind so he wouldn't need to get up, but she wanted her comfortable bed after spending 4 nights stuck on a bus and another few days of traveling. With her bed, she needed her pillow too, which was being stubborn about waking so she could get him upstairs.

After a gentle shake of his shoulders, and to speed things along actually pulling him up into a sitting position, his eyes fluttered open as he sleepily blinked.

A groan escaped his throat, sounding raw and growlish, before his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her against him, his face making itself right at home in the crook of her neck.

Although kneeling on his lap at the angel she'd been pulled into wasn't the comfiest position ever, she did smile at his possessiveness. Whether awake or asleep, happy or sad, well or injured, his constant desire to hold her was one of the many things she loved about him.

"You can snuggle me all you want" She told the deaf man, 'after I get you upstairs." Worming out of his grip, she coaxed him up and made it clear he was coming with her.

He groaned again but woke enough to move under his own power, if not in a fog.

They had successfully navigated the stairs and were nearly to their bedroom when movement down the hall caught Buffy's eye. "Katie." The mother scolded, "You're supposed to be in bed."

A princess clad nightgown moved around the doorframe corner as the wearer peeked out. "Can Daddy tuck me in?" She asked quietly, missing her nightly bedtime story her father usually supplied.

Buffy cast a doubtful eye up at her spouse, who looked like he was sleepwalking. "Baby, I don't think Daddy is awake enough to tuck you in."

Despite the rejection, Katie strode out from her bedroom and up to her parents, "Please?" She begged, grabbing her father's hand and giving a tug towards her bedroom.

At the contact, Angel turned his head and tightened his hand around the little one that had grabbed his.

Encouraged, Katie moved forwards and wrapped her other hand around her father's waist, tugging at his shirt in hopes he'd pick her up.

Buffy stood by as her husband seemed to brush off the fog and picked up their daughter, bringing her cheek up to his mouth for a kiss. Figuring he was awake enough now, Buffy led him down the hall to Katie's bedroom so he could perform the requested action. It only took a few minutes, Katie guiding her Daddy's hands to the covers and having him snug them up around her. Buffy placed her daughter's beloved night time companion, Gordie Jr, which was a mirror of her own treasured childhood friend Mr. Gordo, by her side and placed a kiss on her dark haired head. "Go to sleep now Honey."

Katie clutched her stuffed pig and nodded as she yawned, rolling over and nesting into her blanket.

When she guided Angel back into the hall, she found a pair of Hazel green eyes watched her intensely. "Me too?" Liam asked, looking up at his dad hopefully. Unable to hide a smile at the pure innocence in those eyes, Buffy nodded.

All smiles, Liam dashed forwards and snagged his father's hand, nearly causing the blind man to pitch forwards at the unexpected jolt.

"Gently." Buffy stressed to her son, keeping Angel from falling at the toddler dragged them both towards his room.

After repeating the nighttime routine for their son too, Buffy finally led her spouse to their bedroom.

Angel was now much more awake than when Buffy had dragged him off the couch, so when his wife began to undress him like a child, he resisted like one. He was really beginning to hate being treated like an invalid. He was perfectly capable of putting on a pair of sweatpants…as long as he could find them.

Buffy took the hint and pressed his clothes into his hands to let him fumble with them. She hadn't intended to irritate her husband, but she was finding the more she tired to help him the more he resisted. 'I'd be frustrated too.' She figured, putting on her own night clothes and brushing her long blond locks while watching him fumble with the sweatpants.

Once he got them on, she led him to the bathroom and put his toothbrush and toothpaste in his hands, then gave him his privacy while she went to make up the bed.

The bathroom door closed after a few minutes, a ping of hurt crossed her heart when she heard the lock click. It wasn't that she couldn't open the door if she put her mind to it, but the fact her husband had locked her out still implied a sense of distrust in her mind.

Buffy waited rather impatiently for the door to open, finding it hard to sit still while knowing her lover wasn't at 100%. The sound of the toilet flushing was a precursor to the door finally opening, and when Angel stepped out of the room with his hands splayed out searching, she slipped her hand into his right and led him to the bed.

While he got comfy on his side of the bed, she quickly hit the restroom to brush and do her nightly routine before heading back to bed. When she slipped under the covers, Angel was rolled onto his side, facing away from her. Usually they spread out in the middle together, she using his shoulder as her pillow as they slept with arms entwined.

Apparently that wasn't happening tonight.

With a frown on her lips, she fluffed her rarely used feathered pillow and prepared to settle on the cold, silent cloth and down instead her husband's warm chest. Without his heartbeat under her ear, it took longer to fall asleep, but sleep did come eventually.

Angel was tired, but sleep refused to release him. Over and over again, all he could think about was how useless he felt. He didn't want to be a burden, someone who needed to be cared for. 'In the morning… things will be better tomorrow.' He finally told himself, hoping it would be true.

...

Angel sat listlessly on the couch, a brooding grimace on his lips as he contemplated his dark and soundless prison. He was angry and depressed and confused, but above all else, he was bored. He couldn't see or hear so he couldn't watch the kids, he couldn't help clean the house, cook or do yard work, hell, he couldn't read or draw or even watch TV.

He felt as useless as the throw pillow under his elbow…which actually served more of a purpose than he right now.

Drawing in a deep breath and then sighing it out, he absently fiddled with the tassels on the pillow, wondering what Buffy and the kids were doing.

Where they outside in the sun? Was it sunny today? Probably not, it was January. Where they sitting on the floor right in front of him? Was a demon killing them all at this very moment?

He didn't know, he couldn't even get up and walk outside without tripping over furniture or getting lost inside his own home.

Then deep inside him an alarm when off, a feeling he knew well enough, he was being watched.

'By who? Buffy? The kids? Someone else? Something else?'

He turned his head towards the feeling, his eyes open but unresponsive, blank and sightless.

Almost the moment he looked towards the feeling, it vanished, indicating who or whatever had been watching him had stopped.

He closed his eyes a moment, mostly to wet them, and took another deep breath.

God was he bored.

A few minutes later, he felt movement on the couch beside him.

More on instinct than actual need, he turned his head towards the vibrations in the couch.

A moment later he felt a small body crawl into his lap.

He knew his son's movements in an instant, the toddler settling down and getting rather comfy against his father's chest as he put something down on his legs.

Automatically, Angel wrapped an arm around the child, holding him steady as he clumsily fumbled with something as all toddlers do when holding anything.

After a moment he realized it was a thin paper book and a small box of some sort.

Puzzled, Angel ran his hands over the objects, trying to figure out what they were.

Liam's small fingers pried an item from the box Angel held and began to run it over the book in sporadic motions.

'Coloring book and Crayons.' The living vampire realized, feeling the numerous small waxy sticks wrapped in paper in the cardboard box he was holding.

Since his son seemed content enough to just sit in color in his lab, Angel surely didn't mind. The young boy was always looking to be held, so Angel really wasn't all that surprised he was taking advantage of his father's current stationary condition. A free lap was a free lap.

Plus it helped dispel Angel of the mind-numbing boredom.

Every few minutes, Liam would grow tired of the color he was smearing over the page and stick it in his father hand to dispose of it before snagging another shade from the box.

Angel sat in his dark and silent world just feeling his son playing and smiling to himself.

Angel breathed in deep, trying to force his noise to function. He wanted to be able to smell his son's scent, the wax of the crayons, hell even the boy's diaper, anything was better than the constant nothingness.

He opened his eyes, which he'd forgotten he'd closed, and squinted hard into his lap, hoping to make the mental image of Liam sitting on his thighs a visual one as well.

Telling time was impossible with no external senses functioning, but he hadn't thought it had been long before he felt Liam squirming in his lap.

Liam had been happily rubbing purple over the cartoon bear in his coloring book when a splash of red dropped onto the page. In curiosity he smudged it with his finger, trying to figure out where it came from. After a moment, another small circle joined it, which caused the boy to turn and look up at his daddy for an answer.

Liam felt suddenly very afraid as he watched blood run down his father's eyes and nose to drip soundlessly on his coloring book.

"Mommy! Daddy ouch! Daddy ouch!" He yelled, trying to move off of his father in fear he would give him a bigger ouch and to go get his mommy, she always knew how to make daddy better.

The boy was wriggling as if trying to get away, Angel was confused and held him to make sure he didn't fall backwards off the couch in his suddenness to move.

As he 'looked' down, he felt something run down his upper lip then down his chin, yet another tickle running down his cheek.

He lifted the hand not holding his son and tentatively touched his face, wondering why it felt hot and sticky as he rubbed the liquid between his fingers. Cautiously he tested the unknown moisture with is tongue, which he instantly recognized as blood. His own blood.

Liam succeeded in escaping as the shock of realizing he was bleeding registered in Angel's mind, and a second later he felt Buffy clamp a damp cloth against his nose, pinching it shut to stem the steady flow.

A second cloth followed a moment later to mop the wetness from his eyes.

Buffy had practically jumped out of her shoes as Liam had started screaming, and nearly had a heart attack when she saw Angel's face once again flowing red with blood. She grabbed two dishcloths from the sink, soaked them and ran out into the living room, terrified something was seriously wrong with her husband.

Some of her anxiety subsided as she acknowledged he was conscious and alert, and looked as if he were as shocked about the blood as she was.

He wasn't in pain, she could read that much in his sightless yet still expression full eyes, but the wife in her was still horribly worried what has caused him to start bleeding again.

Buffy knew Angel hadn't been struck by anything, she'd known Liam was sitting on his daddy's lap coloring, she had been keeping a watchful eye on both of them since she knew Angel couldn't by definition 'watch' the toddler. How would he know if Liam suddenly decided to swallow a crayon?

As she wiped the blood away, his hand came up to take the cloth from her, but she slapped it away. She wasn't ready to let go of him yet. As she worked, she checked the bruise around his neck where the rock demon had left a nasty hand print, it wasn't as colorful as it was yesterday and she hoped it would be entirely gone in a day or so. As a catch-22, Buffy really enjoyed playing nurse, but she also really hated when her lover was broken.

After sitting quietly for a moment, slowly Angel wrapped his arm around his wife, figuring if he couldn't hold the rag he might as well hold her.

It was then of course when Katie walked into the room and dropped her orange juice, Buffy cursed the timing. Realizing she needed to attend to the situation quickly, she placed Angel's hand around the rag to keep pressure while she grabbed some paper towels from the kitchen to clean the juice up before it permanently stained the rug.

The living vampire felt the pang of loss as Buffy suddenly pulled away from him, leaving him to fend for himself. 'Well you didn't want to be babied…right?' He told himself.

While mopping up the orange liquid, Buffy rang Cassidy at the Med-Ward to explain the sudden relapse to the MD and hopefully get a diagnosis. Cass listened then explained Angel must have been trying to access his currently inaccessible senses, thus putting more strain on his already overly strained eyes, nose and ears, bleeding was the direct result of the strain.

"He needs to rest Buffy, as much as possible to allow his body time and energy to heal. He might look fine on the outside, but his injuries are mostly internal, and might I add not the kind you want to mess with. If he keeps straining himself, he could easily lose his senses permanently." Cass told her, adding a moment later, "I hate to say this, but maybe I should have kept him in the Med-ward, he could be pleasantly sedated at the moment."

Buffy felt her blood run cold, she hadn't thought his injuries were all that serious, his vitals were good and he was walking and moving perfectly fine, but for the first time since exiting the Hellmouth she was really afraid for her husband. Losing his sight, hearing and smell permanently would kill him, perhaps not physically, but emotionally he'd be dead.

She allowed herself a small glance at her husband sitting quietly on the couch with the rag still against his nose and was immensely grateful he was oblivious this conversation.

Swallowing the bitter taste Cass's words had kicked into her mouth, "No, I'd rather have him home." Buffy admitted, knowing Angel was more comfortable in his own house than the Med-Ward, even if having him sedated for his own health did sound mildly appealing. "I'll make sure he gets more sleep."

She'd thanked Cass and hung up. Trying to ignore the pit that was currently wedged in her stomach, she went to rinse the paper towels and spot treat the rug as she wondered how exactly to get her stubborn husband to stay in bed for any length of time, especially if she wasn't laying with him.

She'd absently finished cleaning the juice and looked up to find Katie and Liam watching her and Angel intently. "Hey guys, don't worry, your Daddy is going to be alright. He just needs to rest so he can get better, OK?" She encouraged them to play so she could lure her spouse upstairs and into bed.

Gently, she took the rag from his hand and examined his features. Seeing everything looked normal, she wrapped her hand around Angel's and tugged, letting him know to follow. After a moment, he rose and walked carefully behind her as she led him to the stairs.

Putting his hand on the railing to help guide him, she took his other hand and headed up, watching to make sure he didn't miss a step and trip up the stairs.

Angel let himself be led, wondering what Buffy had in mind. He didn't know what time it was, but he was certain it wasn't bedtime yet and that the children couldn't be left unsupervised for long. His curiosity grew as Buffy began to undress him, slipping off his t-shirt and unbuttoning his pants. 'Maybe I bled on them?' He reasoned, thinking she was just changing him out of soiled clothes. That thought went out the door as he felt her pulling on his sleep sweats.

When she nudged him to sit on the bed, he realized she was trying to put him down for a nap. 'Yeah, not happening.' He thought annoyed, already not pleased with being undressed like a kid again and now adding more insult in the form of a nap.

Buffy cursed to herself as Angel figured out her game-plan and decided not to be a willing player. He stood back up and went to move away from the bed, but she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her lips to his to distract him.

Distracted he was. Touch and taste were his only working senses at the moment, and Buffy was using both to their full extent as she caressed her tongue along his.

She pushed him back towards the bed until his legs brushed against the side and she pushed him into a sitting position on the thick mattress.

Taking her abrupt and passionate actions as she wanted to be intimate, Angel leaned closer to her welcoming warmth, wrapping his arms around her lithe form and pulling her flush against him.

During the kissing, he realized how very much he needed this. Her touch made everything better again. Suddenly he didn't need to see or hear or smell, he just needed the feel of his wife's firm body against his. She gave his empty world a tangible existence, his light in the dark.

'Crap, not what I meant to do.' Buffy scolded herself for giving him the wrong impression and getting him turned on. She really did want to make love to her husband, but now was not the time or place. The kids were unsupervised and he was supposed to be resting, not engaging in strenuous activity, so when she pulled away and stepped back from him, it was more of a slap in the face to him than an actual slap in the face would have been.

Seeing the loss and betrayal reflecting raw in his eyes, she leaned back in and kissed his cheek in a very chaste manor, going for an apology.

He pulled away, the damage already having been done.

'Shit, I really screwed that up.' Buffy cringed knowing he got the wrong impression from her first kiss. Not for the first time since he lost his communicating skills, she really wished she could talk to him.

Instead of getting up as she'd expected him to do, Angel slid further onto the bed and curled up with his pillow, rolling away from where he knew her to be standing.

'Great, now he's pissed at me and brooding, so not where I wanted this to go...' She sighed, feeling both guilty and stupid.

She wanted to try and fix the misunderstanding, but Liam yelled from downstairs and Buffy knew a heart-to-heart with her husband would have to be postponed. Not for the first time that day, she wished she'd had Connor stick around. As much as she wanted to call someone, she knew her friends were busy recovering from the Hellmouth activity as well; she didn't want to intrude in their personal lives again. Promising her herself she would fix this later, she headed downstairs to see what was wrong with her son.

Angel lay uncomfortably in the bed, feeling discarded and used...or even more acutely, unused, having no use...useless.

'Even Buffy doesn't want you like this.' His mind's voice suggested, since it was the only one he could currently hear. 'You're a burden now, not good for anything but a bed warmer. Your own family doesn't want you, you're isolated so they don't need to be burdened by your weakness. They are better off without you.'

He tried to ignore the voice, but it was hard when you received no other channels.

'Not true.' He countered to himself, 'Buffy's just busy with the kids...'

'Because you can't help her when you yourself are helpless.' The voice mocked back.

He wanted to get up, but he didn't feel like stumbling around blindly and making the voice's taunts come true.

He shut his eyes and figuring he had nothing better to pass the time, tried to sleep.

...

By the time Buffy looked at the clock again, it had been two hours since she brought Angel upstairs. She hadn't meant to be that long, but Liam had wanted lunch and then Katie had broken a toy and Liam drew with crayon on her wall, which she then needed to clean before it set.

As much as she loved being a mommy, she hated that parenting didn't come with breaks or vacation time...so it was pretty much like slaying.

Finally the kids were immersed in playtime and she took a moment to sneak upstairs to check on her husband.

To her immediate relief, Angel was still in bed, curled on his side with face buried in a pillow, sound asleep. To her immediate displeasure, she noted there was a definite brooding scowl on his lips as he slept.

'Ok, really need to fix that later.' She promised herself and headed back down stairs to let him rest.

...

When Angel awoke it was dark, but then again, when you are blind it is always dark. He laid still a moment and determined he was alone in the bed, he felt no dip beside him nor vibrations from another body. He wasn't surprised he woke alone, he did remember going to bed that way.

Sitting up, he tried to picture what the bedroom looked like, recalling a mental image into his brain as he looked around with sightless eyes. He knew it was 12 steps from Buffy's side of the bed to the joining bathroom, he knew this thanks to his artist's eye for details. Now all he needed to do was figure out where on the bed he was and in what direction he was facing.

He found out how close to the edge he'd been sleeping when he nearly fell out of the bed getting up. Feeling around for the bed posts and wall, he orientated himself and took a few tentative steps forwards, hands out in front of him to catch the wall before his face if his calculations were off. He counted to twelve and frowned as his hand did not connect to the bathroom door. 'Crap, where the hell am I?' He wondered dejectedly as he moved his hands out further, trying to touch something. His fingers brushed smooth wood and he soon realized his math had indeed been correct, just the bathroom door had been open instead of closed. Holding the door frame, he walked into the bathroom and reached for the door, shutting it behind him.

He didn't bother turning on the light, which would have been pointless, nor did he lock the door, Buffy could rip the whole thing off its hinges if she wished, so the lock was pretty much just for decoration anyways.

Finding the toilet, he decided to sit to relieve his screaming bladder. It wasn't like he could accurately aim at the moment and he didn't need the added embarrassment of Buffy needed to clean his urine off the floor.

Once that was taken care of, he felt his way to the cabinet and pulled out one of the soft fluffy towels. He'd had more than a few sponge baths lately, by now he was really feeling the need for a real cleaning. Placing the towel on the rack beside the tub, he felt around for the shower knobs and turned on the water. He figured Buffy would likely come in to investigate, but didn't really care. He wasn't the shy type and it's not like she'd never seen him naked before.

He felt the water go from cold to lukewarm to pleasantly hot. He slipped his clothes off and slid under the soothingly scalding liquid, relaxing under the hot spray.

...

Buffy looked up from the dryer she'd been yanking clothes from when she heard the water turn on upstairs. 'What the...Angel?'

She left the kids watching a rare movie on their one TV, 'the Little Mermaid', which was Katie's favorite, and headed up to check on her should-be-sleeping spouse.

She entered the dark bedroom, flipped on the light and headed over the joined bathroom. She was glad the knob turned freely as she opened the door, knowing he hadn't symbolically locked her out this time was a comfort.

The room was pitch black, but a lack of windows was to blame for that. She switched on the light for her own seeing purposes and noticed the small room was already hot and steamy. With the light on, the fan also kicked to life, helping dispel some of the mist. Glancing at the shower, she watched her husband a moment through the glass doors, he was standing still under the gushing water, head bowed down with his hands braced against the wall. It wasn't a particularly 'happy' pose.

A part of her wanted to strip and join him, help scrub his back and maybe some other areas, but she knew she couldn't succumb to her hormones with the kids alone downstairs.

Pulling her eyes away to both keep him from feeling watched and to help keep her own pants on, she walked back out into the bedroom and grabbed a change of clothes for him to change into when he finished showering to save him from needed to fumble around the draws himself. She placed them beside the towel he'd pulled out, hopeful he'd feel them as he probed around with his hands, and then headed back downstairs to give him his privacy.

...

Angel shut the water after he rinsed the last of the suds from his hair and body and stood there to air dry for a few minutes.

Reaching for his towel, he felt a pile of clothes next to the fluffy light blue cotton cloth. 'So Buffy did come up to investigate.' He acknowledged, 'But didn't feel inclined to let me know she was here.'

Patting himself dry, he felt for the tags on his garments and slowly dressed, careful not to put anything on inside out or backwards.

He decided he had a 50/50 shot at picking the right toothbrush.

After brushing, he ran his hand over the ample stubble on his cheeks with a grimace. 'Well shaving is mostly by feel anyways.' He thought as he groped around the top sink draw for a razor and shaving cream.

Once he deemed himself clean and presentable, he felt his way out of the bathroom and tried to navigate himself downstairs for something to eat, he didn't need to hear to know his stomach was growling angrily.

...

Buffy was mixing a pot of mac & cheese on the stove when a series of loud thumps came from the living room. Dropping the spoon, she quickly rushed into the next room and gasped at Angel lying at the bottom of the stairs, his mouth moving in silent swears as he tried to rise while simultaneously rubbed his lower back.

'Holy shit, did he just fall down the stairs?' She worried as she hurried beside him and grasped his arm to help him.

He yanked away from her suddenly, furious with himself and almost falling again over the splay of toy cars at his feet.

'Shit, he did fall down the stairs.' She realized he must have slid on one of Liam's cars and wasn't able to see to catch himself.

"Liam Patrick Summers, get over here right now!" Buffy yelled to her son, furious he'd left his toys hazardously on the stairs after she specifically told him to move them before someone got hurt.

The nearly three year old ran into the living room with wide hazel-green eyes. He knew he was in big trouble when he was called by his full name.

"Look!" Buffy pointed to the toys on the stairs, "You gave your Daddy an ouch because you left these here."

Angel was oblivious to her scolding their son, so when he tried to move she grabbed his arm and held him in place while she watched a pouting Liam pick up the toys and put them into his toy box in the corner.

When her irritated, and likely bruised, husband tried to move again, Buffy put one of the toy cars in his palm so he knew what his foot had slid over.

"Now you owe Daddy an apology." The angry mother ordered to her son, picking the boy up so Angel wouldn't have to crouch down and handed him to the living vampire.

Automatically, Angel took the toddler that had been thrust into his arms, a little confused.

With tears in his eyes, Liam wrapped his arms around Angel's neck, "Sorry Daddy. Sorry give ouch." He mumbled against his father's deaf ear, then kissed his cheek.

Figuring out what was going on, Angel ran his hand over Liam's back and kissed the top of the boy's blond head, accepting the offered apology.

After a minute, Buffy took Liam back and gave him a smack across his diapered bottom, "Go in time out, I'll tell you when you can come out."

Sullenly, the little boy moped over to the corner and stood facing the wall.

Buffy hated punishing the kids, but she knew Angel could easily have broken his neck due to Liam's toys being left sitting around carelessly, the thought horrified her.

Nabbing her husband's hand, she pulled him forward and into the kitchen to inspect his injuries.

Katie stood watching in the doorway, wide eyed at Buffy. "Go clean up your mess Katie, dinner will be ready soon."

The little girl watched her parents a moment longer then quickly moved to put away her toys so she wouldn't end up in time-out like her little brother.

As she tried to lift his shirt, Angel pulled away again, obviously still mad at her from earlier.

Worried he'd hurt more than his pride and not in the mood to deal with his moodiness, she manhandled him into position and yanked his shirt up to expose his back.

He had several red marks already forming just above his pant line, a third was just to the left of his spine. Quickly searching the rest of him, she found nothing serious looking, other than the scowl on his lips.

Relieved he was only slightly bruised, she moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer for her husband. Normally he didn't drink outside of social settings, but she could tell he really needed one after the day he'd had, she hoped the alcohol would relax him.

Pouring him a glass, she pushed it into his hand and let him stand all tense and grumpy where he was instead of trying to move him again. She'd give him a few minutes to drink his beverage before trying to touch him again.

Angel felt the cold glass in his hand and realized how very thirsty he was. Bringing it up to his lips he took a long draw. His eyebrow shot up as he tasted Guinness in surprise. Occasionally he shared wine or champagne with his wife at dinner, but beer was reserved for parties, he hadn't known they'd had any in the house.

By then, the water boiling the macaroni was mostly evaporated, leaving the pasta all stuck together and beginning to burn. 'Damn it, why is everything going wrong today.' Buffy grumbled as she removed the pot from the stove and tried to salvage what she could.

Angel downed his drink, hoping the alcohol would help loosen him up. He knew he was being a jerk, he was pissed at himself for being so damn useless and helpless and he knew he shouldn't be taking his frustrations out on his wife. He hated fighting with her, he might as well be a fighting with oxygen, he needed her just as badly.

His arm brushed something solid and he reach out and found himself holding the counter. He put the empty glass down and ran his fingers over the smooth surface, determining by feel it was the island in the middle of the kitchen. He reached down and groped for the cabinets under the tabletop, orientating himself to which direction he was facing. Turning, he took a few slow steps and reached out, his hand brushing the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Buffy turned as she heard a chair being pulled out from the other end of the kitchen and watched Angel plop down heavily into it. He leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the table and rested his face in his hands.

'Oh my poor Angel.' She thought, watching him with sad eyes. She hated when they fought. All she wanted to do right now was go have a seat in his lap and kiss his problems away.

Instead, she spooned the remaining pasta into dishes for the kids and brought the plate over to the table. "Katie, Liam, dinner!" She called into the living room and a few seconds later she helped the two into their booster seats.

As the kids ate their cheesy dinner, Buffy went to the fridge and searched for something for her and Angel.

Angel looked across the table, he couldn't actually see anything but he could feel movement, the vibrations of hands and forks as they banged the surface. 'Kids must be eating dinner.' He figured, "Guess Buffy decided I don't deserve dinner.'

He was wondering if he'd make it to the couch without getting killed when he felt a plate clink down in front of him. He was hungry, but he also knew his wife's cooking. This was a bad time for him to have overactive taste buds. Yesterday's chicken was bad enough, he wasn't sure he'd survive another Buffy-cooked meal.

Almost hesitantly, he moved his hand until it hit the plate so he knew exactly where it was. He hadn't felt a fork and thought it would be pretty cruel to give him something for dinner he couldn't see to stab. Slowly he moved his fingers into examine the contents of the dish, wondering if it will bite.

His fingers identified a sandwich and he sighed in relief. Buffy didn't need to cook a sandwich, so he figured his taste buds were safe and as a bonus, the hands on approach was the best way to eat one.

He felt someone pass behind him and slide into the chair beside him, felt another plate gently click down in front of that seat. A few moments later, something clicked hard down beside his own plate. He instinctively turned towards it, moving his hand to examine what it was and discovered another glass of beer.

He was mostly done with a second sandwich when something else was put on his plate, he cocked his head curiously and felt for what it was, he grinned a little when he found potato chips.

Dinner of champions.

He thought dinner turned out pretty good. Now that he wasn't hungry and the pain in his back had been pleasantly numbed, he felt more relaxed. He was far from drunk or even tipsy after a measly two beers, but he was grateful for the alcoholic pain relief.

He was sitting back in his chair and trying to figure out what he could do to help when he felt something cold hit his hand. Katie was stuffing something long and icy and covered with plastic wrap at him, so he took it not knowing what else to do. After a movement of feeling it, he realized it was a Popsicle. He removed the wrapper and before he could bring it to his mouth, it was snatched from his hand.

'Oh, I'm just the opener, she's the eater.' He figured, shaking his head affectionately at his daughter. A moment later, he felt another one of the cold sticks poked into his hand. This time he opened it and held it out, feeling Liam's little fingers snatch the treat up.

He was just about to get up and grope his way into the living room when he felt another Popsicle slide into his hand, quickly followed by a peck on the cheek. 'Guess that means this one is for me.'

...

After desert, Angel found himself on the couch again, this time being used as a lazy boy for Katie and Liam as they got to watch a half-hour of cartoons before bed. He had no clue what they were watching, but he enjoyed the feel of them laughing every few seconds.

Eight-O-clock must have rolled around, because Buffy collected the toddlers and herded them upstairs for bed.

He thought about hanging down here until Buffy came to collect him too, but decided to just go to bed on his own. He hated being led around like a...ok like a blind guy...which he was...but just because he was disabled didn't mean he wanted to be treated like a cripple.

It took him five minutes to navigate the living room, being overly careful not to trip over anything and break his damn neck in the process, which usually took him under 10 seconds to reach the bedroom when he had the gift of sight.

Due to his nap today, he wasn't overly tired at the moment, and if given the option he would have stayed up to read or draw but since he could do neither at the moment, he figured sleep was about as exciting as his life was going to get.

...

Buffy finished tucking the kids into bed and headed downstairs to spend some much desired quality time with her husband. Her heart sank when she found him missing from where she left him. "Angel?" She called and went in search, checking all the downstairs rooms and even glancing outside. Frowning, she hurried upstairs and to her dismay found him already in bed.

Disheartened, she went back downstairs to clean-up.

An hour later she entered the bedroom again to get ready for bed. She changed and brushed her teeth before finding herself watching her husband sleep, silently wishing he'd wake up so they could spend some one-on-one time together.

She knew it wouldn't take much to wake him, but considering the mood he'd been it earlier she decided against it, plus she really didn't want him going to sleep on the couch downstairs if they got into another fight.

Besides, he was supposed to be sleeping more anyways.

She shut the lights, slipped under the covers next to him and closed her eyes.

...

A terrified scream pierced the night, pulling Buffy from her pleasant slumber.

Angel lay still sound asleep beside her, which never happened before while Katie was having a nightmare. Every other time, the living vampire had woken from the sound of the child's increased heartbeat as her fear crept in.

Unfortunately, he couldn't hear anything right now, including the shriek that had woken Buffy and from the sound of it, Liam too.

Feeling a tinge of regret for pulling away from him so abruptly, Buffy grabbed her robe and slipped it on as she ran out of the room to comfort her wailing child.

The vibrations of his wife's departure partly woke Angel, but being without sight or sound or smell, he was having trouble actually awaking. His world was quiet and dark and the warm blanket wrapped around him helped lull him away from consciousness.

Something deep inside of him felt the fear radiating off of his daughter, but he couldn't quiet grasp it into something tangible. Slowly, the feeling migrated along in his mind, seeping into his dreams.

Buffy ran into her daughter's bedroom and scooped the still screaming toddler into her arms.

"Shh, baby, shh. It's ok, I'm here, nothing's going to hurt you, I promise." She soothed into her firstborn's ear as she rocked the sobbing little girl against her chest, rubbing her hand in a calming motion down her back. She knew from experience Katie would have already forgotten the dream itself, upon waking, but the terror lingered behind for a few minutes until it finally dissipated.

Katie's cries tapered off as she hugged her mother close, the tremors from her nightmare receding more with each passing moment.

The blond wasn't sure how long she'd stood there holding her daughter when the nearly 4 year old raised her dark head from its spot on her shoulder and looked into her hazel-green eyes with her father's chocolate brown orbs, "Mommy, where's daddy?" Her daddy was always holding her when she woke from the bad dreams, except tonight, he wasn't here for her tonight.

Smiling sadly, Buffy kissed her daughter's forehead, "He can't hear you cry Katie, remember, you know he would have come if he had been able to, like he always does."

"Daddy's scared, like I was." The little girl whispered, a pout on her small lips.

Buffy wrinkled her brow, "What do you mean?"

That when she heard a raw inhuman scream from her awoke to nothing.

It was quiet and dark and completely void of any substance.

Angel felt as if he were floating, set adrift in a vast sea of nothingness.

There was no up or down, left or right, in or out.

He might have thought his body didn't exist anymore if not for the aches and pains in his muscles that reminded him, that in fact, he does exist.

His equilibrium was shot, but after an indeterminate amount of time, he began to notice a sense of motion.

Panic flooded his system as he was jarred to the left, realizing the earth beneath him was moving and alarmingly unsteady. His first conscious thought was he'd dreamed they'd made it to the exit of the cave before he collapsed from exertion, the second more alarming realization was that Buffy wasn't beside him.

With enormous effort, Angel sat up and tried to check his position.

His eyes popped open wide to evaluate the scene, except the dark orbs registered nothing save darkness.

With the ground moving as much as it was, Angel expected to hear the rocks bucking and shifting under him, but he heard only silence.

He inhaled deeply but there were no scents in the air, not the sharp sting of sulfur, not the dank smell of earth, not even the scent of his own body.

Fear washed over him, he didn't know where he was or what had happened, only that this strange world of nothingness was horrifying.

There was nothing to grasp for, not even light and dark, just a deafening silence and no way to orientate himself.

When something suddenly grabbed his arm, he reacted on instinct.

...

Willow had been watching over Angel in the back of the bus while Buffy was speaking to Giles about the recent events in the Hellmouth. The Wicca noticed him twitch then sit up with a panicked look on his face, she called his name a few times so he would know she was there before she gently laid her hand on his arm.

He flinched back as if her fingers were made of flame and took a wild swing towards her.

She yelped and jumped back, easily dodging the sloppy blow. It took her a moment to realize he only missed her because he wasn't actually looking at her.

'He's blind.' Willow thought with a pang of sorrow, watching his sightless eyes wildly scanning his surroundings. Then another thought struck her, 'He hadn't heard me either.' Her wide green eyes glanced at his ears, Buffy had clean the blood from his face and chest but she'd remembered how he'd looked when the slayers carried him onto the bus, Buffy cradling his red soaked head and upper body.

"What happened?" Buffy demanded a second later, materializing beside her friend and watching her husband worriedly as he fought unsuccessfully to gain his bearings.

Buffy noticed what Willow had a moment beforehand, her gut clenching in sorrow. 'No...please no.'

Quickly, the slayer moved forwards, being especially careful as she could tell Angel was highly strung. She barely acknowledged his game face was missing, but she could plainly see he was agitated and scared.

Neither were a good mental state when one had super strength.

"Angel." She spoke to him but instantly realized it was a useless breathe, he was currently deaf to her voice, and everything else.

Gently she touched his shoulder and correctly anticipated the fist that came at her. Having the advantage of sight over him, she easily caught his fist in a tight grip to keep him from lashing out with that arm again and simultaneously cupped his cheek in her the hand.

She felt his fight tensed muscles release instantly, alerting her that he recognized her touch.

"Whoa!" She yelped out as his other arm lashed around her waist and crushed her up against him, his face burying itself in her neck and shoulder.

She released his fist and she wrapped her arms around him, running her fingers soothingly along the back of his neck and back.

Even though she knew the words would be lost on him, she spoke quietly to him as he held her tight, listening to his adrenaline accelerated heart rate and fear ragged breaths slowly easing back to normal.

As she felt him calming, she eased him down into her lap and placed a kiss atop his head.

From the comfort of his wife's lap, the terror of the last few moments was drifting and Angel was feeling his weariness steadily overtaking his body again. Despite the cold horror of finding himself blind and deaf and unable to speak, Buffy's touch made everything seem alright again, at least for a little while.

Buffy sat quietly running her fingers though her husband's dark hair as he drifted back to a semiconscious state of sleep.

Despite the relief she felt knowing he'd regained consciousness, she couldn't help but worry over his injuries. Would he recover his vision and hearing? Or had the escape from the cavern been too much for even his demon to heal? With worry in her heart, she sat back and sent an pleading look to Willow.

The redhead sent her back a apologetic shrug, not knowing how to help her friends. "Cass will know what to do." She offered the best she could.

Buffy nodded but looked down sadly at her lover sleeping in her embrace, somehow she didn't think the doctor would be able to do much for Angel.

...

Of the 10 buss that entered LA for the battle, only three were making the journey back to Ohio. The slayer casualty count was surprisingly low, but four of the big yellow vehicles were lost during the fighting, mostly as being used as weapons. The occupants of those lost and the remaining three buses were setting up a parameter around the newborn 'Boca del Inferno'. Since Spike and Faith didn't have two young children waiting for them back in Ohio, they stayed opted in LA to oversee the slayers and keep an eye on the steady demon activity.

The buses heading back across country were avoiding the highways, there were a number of reports of some extremely unhappy demons wanting payback on Buffy and Angel for not allowing Los Angeles to turn into Hell-A. Thus the trip was slow going and each bus was taking a different route. Cassidy and her team had arrived with the original batch of slayers, but had been stationed just outside the battle lines, she was on the first bus to have departed, taking the brunt of the injured slayers with her and one of the three medical assistants.

So far, three days, three long days had been spent on the bus as it sped across country back towards Ohio. Buffy never even noticed the time though; her whole world was focused on the pale broken man lying listless in her lap.

After the tenth call in a row in half as many hours, Cassidy had promised Angel wasn't in any immediate danger and to keep him hydrated and let him rest. Buffy would have preferred if the medic had seen Angel in person to make the diagnosis instead of a trainee, but she was swamped treating the more serious injuries incurred by the influx of demons battling slayers during the Hellmouth birth. Not to mention her bus was about 150 miles ahead of them.

Angel spent the majority of the time balancing the fine line between unconsciousness and asleep, his body in severe need of downtime after exerting so much energy escaping the collapsing Hellmouth.

Buffy's worry had grown steadily as her husband remained unresponsive to most of her attempts to wake him to eat and drink. She knew he needed to eat in order to regain his strength after the burnout he'd experienced, but stubbornness was thick in his blood.

They were still a half day drive from Ohio and home when he finally stirred and abruptly sat up, Buffy was thrilled but disheartened at the same time as she realized that even awake she had no means to communicate with him. His eyes were still red and raw from the dust and sulpher, his ears and nose had stopped bleeding, but were still unable to function. The bruises around his throat from the rock demon's grip had dulled to yellow but she could tell just from the way he moved stiffly and slowly meant his neck was still too tender to allow for speech.

His healing was at an all time low.

Gently, she laid her hand on his forearm, watching him carefully for signs of impending backlash. He stiffened for a moment at the initial contact, but relaxed as he acknowledged her touch.

Food was her top priority for him at the moment, she really needed him to eat something, and from the cracking of his lips she knew a gallon on water wouldn't hurt either. Three days without food after the ordeal they'd been though in the Hellmouth was pushing the limits for even his demon to overcome, she could see the toll just sitting upright was putting on him.

Grabbing an offered water from Willow, Buffy pressed the bottle into her husband's right hand, knowing he'd be thirsty. Instead of taking it, Angel felt it for a moment to feel out what it was and pushed it back towards her, refusing it with a slight shake of his head, before the action made him grimace.

"No?" Buffy spoke automatically, shocked and confused. "But…you have to be thirsty; you've barely drank or eaten in days." The only fluids were what she'd managed to drip into his mouth while half conscious, which wasn't much.

When he made no response she remembered he couldn't actually hear her. Reaching her hand out, she gripped his and ran her thumb along his knuckles, avoiding the rough semi-healing patches where he'd found out the hard way not to punch a demon made of stone. She studied his face and tried to figure out how to talk to him when all conventional means were currently unavailable.

After a few seconds, he shifted a bit, a constant restlessness washing over him as they sat on the floor in the back of the bus. A seat would have been comfier, but Angel was too long to lie in one comfortably and she didn't want to risk him near anyone, not when he was barely conscious and unpredictable when injured.

Buffy noticed his near constant adjustments weren't helped by the motion of the bus as it skipped over a well worn road. 'He must be having trouble gaining his equilibrium with all the moving and with pretty much no ability to orient himself.' She couldn't imagine how he must be feeling right now, unable to tell night from day, where he was, what was going on, who was around him.

After a few moments, Angel slipped his hand out of hers, his jaw tensing as a general uncomfortable look crossed his face. His cheeks and forehead were flushing red, his leg muscles twitching as he shifted again.

She realized something else was bothering him besides his injures. "Willow." Buffy addressed her friend as the redhead sat in a bench seat a few feet away, "Can you have Jenny pull over at the closest rest stop?"

Willow nodded went to give the command to the young Slayer taking her turn behind the wheel of the bus.

After a few minutes, the vehicle slid to a stop in the parking lot of a gas station, one with a mini-convenience store.

Angel seemed to notice when the motion beneath him ceased, his body language practically screaming to get off the bus.

Buffy took his hand again and quickly guided him down the narrow isle towards the front, understanding what had woken him from his three day sleep and why he couldn't sit still.

As she stepped down the first step and tapped his leg to warn him of the drop, she heard a thump from behind her.

Instantly she spun around to find she'd completely spaced about warning Angel to duck when exiting the lower overhang on the stairs of the bus, and the bang had been his head off the metal ceiling.

"Angel, shit, I'm sorry!" She spoke quickly, feeling stupid.

He pulled his hand out of hers to rub the ache blooming in his skull, the pain itself was nothing compared to the helpless and embarrassed feelings washing up inside of him. It was bad enough being completely in the dark, speechless, scentless and deaf to the world, but nothing made him feel more useless than being a burden. For someone so used to independence, being led around like a dog on a leash was a real slap in the face, or in this situation, a crack on the head.

Guilt flooded her face as she helped him down the last steps, not that he could see it though. She pulled his head down low enough for her to give him an apologetic kiss over the bump, and to inspect him for any damage. Other than a red mark, he seemed fit enough and quickly stood back up and waved away her prying hands.

An 'I'm fine' gesture if there ever was one.

Tentatively, she took his arm again to lead him to the gas station's store entrance.

Once Angel and Buffy were off the vehicle, the other slayers quickly dispersed, all needing to stretch their legs and get some fresh air after being stuck of a bus for days with barely enough stops for food and hygiene calls.

Angel felt the warm sunlight vanish from his skin as he assumed they walked thought an automatic doorway, the feel of pavement under his shoed feet gave way to a thick rubbery mat followed by linoleum.

He had no idea where he was, but off what he assumed was one of their buses and inside of a building was his first conclusion. For the hundredth time since he'd woken, he wished he could simply open his eyes and see where he was and what was going on, but the same as all the other times he wished it, nothing registered in his vision when he opened his eyes to the world around him.

Squeezing them shut again, he tried to think about anything except the pressure in his bladder. As far as he was concerned, his kidneys could explode inside of him before he wet himself. He would go back to Hell before he pissed his pants.

'Much longer and I really am going to rupture something.' He thought as he cautiously walked with his wife, wondering where she was leading him and consciously clenching his hands into fists to keep from grabbing his groin.

His elbow brushed a hard surface and his hand came up to feel a doorframe, Buffy paused beside him, he felt her twisting something in her other hand before she led him into what must be another room. Beneath his feet, he thought he could feel something similar to tile.

His shoulder brushed another wall and automatically he reached out to feel it, it was smooth as most walls are, but didn't feel solid enough to be a real wall.

Buffy moved behind him and encouraged him to move forwards, another wall appeared before him, but swung out of the way. When he reached his hands out, he found he could touch both right and left walls at the same time. This was the narrowest room he'd even been inside.

After a second, he realized is wasn't a room at all, but a toilet stall, especially as he felt his wife's arms slide from behind him around his waist to unzip his pants.

'Yeah, not happening.' Unwilling to be so helpless he couldn't even take a piss on his own, he gently removed her hands from his pants and nudged her away.

Buffy frowned as he urged her out from the stall and latched it behind her, feeling rejected but understanding his fierce need for independence. After a moment, she decided he should have a few minutes to himself, she could always check on him if he took too long. Giving him some privacy, she exited the bathroom and stood outside the door, waiting to hear the sound of a flush to indicate he was done.

Angel stood practically dancing for release in front of the toilet, his body so tense he could almost taste urine. He kicked his foot out to test where the basin was, but quickly realized he couldn't actually see where his aim would go. Biting his lip, he quickly dropped his pants and sat down, holding his nearly erect from pressure member down as he finally released.

Peeing while sitting wasn't a customary feeling, but the sensation from the immediate release of pressure soon negated the idea. It felt like hours before he finished, and while in the seated position, he realized he might as well stay a little longer as his bowels decided being ignored for days was also at an end.

When he was finished, he wiped and flushed, feeling far lighter now that his body wasn't in a vise. Before regaining his humanity, he never would have guessed that finally relieving your bladder could be almost as much of a high as an orgasm.

He felt around for the lock on the stall door then eased out into the rest of the bathroom, hands spread out as he felt around for the sink. Empty space surrounded him as he slowly inched around, trying to locate a wall or something tangible. Finally his fingers brushed something and he realized it was the paper towel dispenser. After a few more long seconds, he managed to locate the sink.

No matter which way he turned the knobs, ice cold water sprayed over his hands, effectively rinsing off the soap he'd rubbed on, but not as comfortable as warm water would have been. An eternity later, he re-located the paper towels and was thinking of rewashing his hands after touching everything to find it again, but he felt Buffy as she took his arm to be his guide.

He wanted to pull away, not so much because he didn't want her touching him, but because he didn't want to feel like a dog on a leash again. However, he knew if he did, not knowing where he was would only lead into walking into something and making a bigger fool of himself.

Swallowing his bruised and battered pride, he followed.

They walked for a few seconds before Buffy stopped and remained still a few minutes, Angel though perhaps she was talking to someone. He was beginning to feel the weariness sneaking back into his muscles when Buffy took his hand and wrapped it around something, a plastic handle of some kind of bag, and she led him back into the warmth of the sun.

Angel took a few steps back when Buffy gently pushed him, he felt something press the back of his legs and he sat down wearily.

He knew he hadn't been standing long, but already his legs were grateful to have his weight off them. Now that is body was no longer over tense by the extreme pressure that had resonated from his bladder and overpowered nearly ever other thought, he was really feeling the ache in his muscles. He felt as if he hadn't slept in days.

Buffy moved them over to a grassy area beside the parking lot and deposited onto the picnic table a plastic shopping bag full of snacks and waters she'd purchased while Angel was relieving himself in the restroom. She carefully took the bag of medical supplies she'd had Angel carry from him and pulled out the eye drops she'd bought in the convenience store.

She didn't like the paleness in his cheeks, nor the still red and raw lining of his eyes, which was more prominent via the dark bags that made his face look hollow and skeletal. The sunlight made it even more prominent. His eyes themselves hadn't been brown in days, but stained red from the bleeding the debris from the cavern had wrought. The worst was the blank stare he gave, a constant reminder that blindness had taken root in those once dark chocolate pools and robbed him of his ability to see.

Gently, she cupped his chin and brought his head back so she could drip the solution into his eyes and hopefully ease the redness. He didn't resister her, so she figured he knew what she was planning. However, the moment to droplet hit his pupil, he jerked away from her, falling off the picnic bench in response to pain and shock and bringing his hand up to rub his now closed eye.

"Angel!" She automatically called, dropping down beside him and reaching out to help him.

At her touch he pulled back again, she could see the confusion and borderline panic in his rapidly blinking scarlet rimmed eyes. Blood was once again flowing down his nose from the startled movement.

'Ok, no more eye drops.' She thought, feeling like crap now for startling him when he obviously wasn't doing as well as she'd thought. Not being able to communicate with him was getting harder each moment.

Her hand touched his leg lightly, keeping gentle pressure to let him know she was there and wasn't leaving. She slipped a napkin out of her pocket and tentatively dabbed at the wetness under his nose. To her relief, he allowed her to wipe the blood away and to pinch it shut to help it clot faster. After a few minutes, when the nosebleed was over, he had calmed down enough for her to get him back to his feet.

With effort, Angel stood, but his balance was tedious at best. The shock to his system the cold liquid in his eyes had wrought seemed to have drained what little energy he'd had left, leaving him exhausted. His eyes was burning now, the drops bringing more irritation rather than relief.

He'd swallowed some of his blood as it leaked down the back of his throat; the taste was sending waves of revulsion though his guts. Deep down, he felt a cramp starting from the coppery intrusion, he realized his lack of appetite was a misconception, he was actually starving, but not for blood.

'Blood.' A chill run down his spine, the memory of sucking down the hot life fluid made him want to gag. When his demonic side was more prevalent, the idea of blood never bothered him, but right now, the vampire felt very far away, and his mortal taste buds rejected the iron flavor with extreme prodigious.

'Later' He thought, 'I'll eat after I sleep…and I stop thinking about blood.' He really hoped Buffy was leading him someplace he could lie down, because he felt about ready to drop.

They'd been walking less than a minute when the cramp in his stomach flared, bringing a sharp spike of pain that felt like a hard punch. Angel gasped and doubled over, his knees impacting the ground as he lost balance again, his hand tearing from Buffy's to catch himself from face-planting. Nausea rushed up his throat; bring a collection of dry heaves as his body fought to expel the lingering swallows of blood.

Luckily with his stomach empty, even the blood that had run down his throat was too little to regurgitate, so nothing came from his mouth save for retching sounds.

He could feel Buffy's hands on his shoulders; supporting him and trying to pull him back to his feet. He tried to help, but he couldn't tell which direction was up, the blackness surrounded him like an oppressive heavy wet cloak, blocking sounds and smells as well. His world couldn't get any darker, yet somehow the darkness managed to claim him again.

Buffy had almost gotten Angel to his feet again when he suddenly sagged like a wet towel in her arms.

…

"Buffy, what happened?" Giles and Willow rushed over to help when they'd heard the slayer call Angel's name in an obviously panicked manor. They had been leaving the two alone as Buffy had requested, to give her some time to attend her husband without prying eyes, but when they heard her yell they knew something had gone wrong and they rushed to help.

Angel was slouched over in her lap, both pale and limp while the blond was repeatedly patting his cheek as she tried to rouse him.

"Is he breathing?" Willow asked in alarm as she hurried to kneel by her friends.

"He passed out." Buffy replied, her eyes not leaving her husband's drawn face, "I don't know why, he was fine a few minutes ago."

Giles looked over the living vampire, a suspicion wandering though his mind, "Buffy, can you sense Angel's demon?" He asked, curious if his hunch was true.

The eldest slayer made a face as if the question was absurd, then suddenly her faced paled. "I…I thought so, but now…it's weak, really weak."

"As I suspected." Giles address, kneeing down level with the other three people before him, "Let's get him back to the bus."

"Suspected what?" Buffy demanded, looking up at her watcher with unhidden fear in her eyes.

Giles hooked an arm under Angel's left shoulder and helped Buffy draw him up, the unconscious man hanging between them as they each took an arm. Since Giles was far taller than Buffy, it left Angel at a noticeable angel dipping down to the right between the two.

"Let's get him comfortable first." The watcher suggested, helping Buffy haul him back to the bus as Willow hurried ahead of them to get the blankets at the back of the vehicle ready for the injured man to lay on.

After a few minutes, Buffy was seated on the floor where she'd spent the majority of the last three days, Angel's head and shoulders in her lap while Willow spread a blanket over him. As soon as Angel was settled, her eyes shot to her watcher, "Suspected what?" She repeated, her tone harboring no more delays for an answer.

Giles squatted down to be more evenly eye level with his daughter of the heart, "Basically, Angel was weakened from the escape from the Hellmouth, and now that he's has been unconscious for days without food or water…"

"Which he refused." Buffy cut him off in automatic self defense.

"Yes, I understand that Buffy, I wasn't issuing blame." The former librarian continued, "I only mean his body is weakening further without nourishment, his demon is currently too weak to act as his immune system and now he's…worsening."

"He's getting a fever." Buffy spoke in a small voice, eyes glancing down at her husband's flushed face. Already his skin was growing warmer as the demon within was losing strength. "Angel doesn't get a fever unless it's serious, like dying serious."

"He's not dying Buffy." Giles assured with more confidence than he felt, 'Not yet at least.' He added mentally before he continued out loud, "Let me procure a few items. I'll be back momentarily." With that said, he walked quickly off the bus.

Buffy nodded slowly at his words, keeping calm by listening to her husband's slow and steady breaths. His lungs sounded much better than a few days ago, when the dust caught in his lungs had left him with a rasp and coughing fits.

She really hadn't thought a lack of food would debilitate him so greatly, especially not with all the rest he'd been getting. However, she knew she was kidding herself if she thought laying in a semi-conscious state was considered restful. Wishful thinking had overruled her sense, now Angel was suffering the consequences.

With her palm placed over his heart, she could feel the rhythmic taps beneath his skin, a constant reminder he was still very much one of the living. She would prefer to keep it that way.

The young woman was still watching her husband when Giles reappeared, a juice box and a bag with some sort of canned beverage in his hands.

"I already tried to get him to drink something." Buffy spoke while Giles ripped the straw off the carton and plunged it into the thin foil opening. "He turns away."

"Let's just give this a go, shall we?" He answered as he slipped the straw in the living vampire's mouth and gently squeezed the box to spill a bit of the sweet liquid on his tongue.

At first, Angel barely responded save to automatically swallow and then unconsciously grimace from the pain it caused his bruised throat. When Buffy saw the frown, she then realized why Angel had been refusing eating and drinking, his throat was still overly sore from being strangled by the stone demon. Not to mention his over pressurized bladder had likely played a role in not wanting to consume more liquid earlier.

However, as Giles continued to drip the juice in little by little, the prone man began to respond as his thirst grew steadily stronger than the pain reflex. Angel's lips pressed onto the straw and began to suck greedily at it, quickly empting the little box.

"Do you have more of those?" Buffy asked, looking hopeful for the first time in days now that her lover was getting the fluid he desperately needed.

"Something better." Giles answered, fishing a can of Boost from the bag beside him.

Buffy scanned her eyes over the label, wondering why she hadn't though of using nutritional shakes before. It wasn't like Angel was a stranger to injury, a quick liquid meal would be far more beneficial than the usual chicken broth or water.

Angel seemed to have regained at least semi-awake status from the juice box, so she sat him up in her lap and held him still while Giles slipped a straw into the bottle of Boost and slid it between Angel's lips.

After a moment of provoking, Angel finally began to suck down the liquid meal, barely acknowledging the vanilla taste as his body greedily devoured the offered food. When the bottle was empty, Giles switched it for another, that one soon disappearing too. After a third Boost shake, Angel spit the straw from his mouth and turned away when Giles tried to slip it back in.

A smile washed over Buffy's previously tense face, letting a slight laugh escape her mouth when Angel growled and pressed his face into her shoulder to avoid the probing straw. "I guess that means no more." She spoke to her watcher as she ran her fingers calmingly down her lover's neck, feeling him nuzzling sleepily against her.

By then, the bus was in motion again, the other slayers having resumed talking, devouring purchased snacks, sleeping or otherwise occupying themselves as they had over the long ride from California thus far.

Seeing his daughter-of-the-heart's husband was presently better than he'd been a few minutes before and feeling the hard floor on his aging knees, Giles stood with the help of the nearby seat, "Yes, well I'll put the rest of these in the cooler." He indicated the remaining three drinks in the bag.

"Giles." Buffy called after him before he'd moved a few steps.

When he turned to look down at her she gave him a warm smile, "Thank you."

He returned the gesture, "No thanks are required for family."

As Giles went to sit down towards the front of the bus and give driving recommendations to the slayer behind the wheel, Buffy felt herself relaxing as Angel snuggled against her. As his arms wrapped around her waist, she knew for certain he was sleeping and no longer unconscious.

…

Buffy took a deep breath and opened her eyes, wondering when it was exactly she had closed them.

Sleep hadn't been on the schedule.

She noticed her view of the world had a strange tilt to it, until she realized it was because she was looking at the floor of the bus from a horizontal position from the ground instead of vertical while sitting.

It didn't take her long to recognize the warmth and movement under her cheek was the rhythmic rising and falling of a chest beneath her. 'Shit.' She thought, pushing herself up and looking down at the man she'd been lying on.

A smile tugged at her lips, momentarily forgetting she'd been using her injured husband as a sofa as she watched him sleep. If Angel had been bothered being used as a lounger, he gave no sign of it. He was snoring softly, the passing streetlights lighting the darkness outside reflected off his face every few moments, letting her see the tranquility on his resting features. Even in the poor lighting, she could tell the flush from his fever was already gone, her hand on his cheek confirmed his temperature was back to normal human warmth.

She could feel his demon now, not yet at full strength, but eating had strengthened Angel's mortal form and thus had also fed the vampire within. Now that the demon was regaining strength, his immune system was as well.

'When he wakes next, his hearing and eyesight should be back.' Buffy thought confidently, assuming his demonic healing would quickly heal the damage now that he was fed and hydrated.

Tearing her gaze from his face, she looked up and around at the row of bench seats lining the walls, a few of the slayers were awake and silently occupying themselves, but most were not. It was early yet, and sitting on a bus didn't generate much need for wakefulness.

Figuring the bus floor couldn't be too comfortable for her husband, Buffy slowly lifted herself off him to try and find an empty seat to occupy, or she would had if his arms hadn't tightened around her and pulled her back against him. 'Ok, I guess that means, don't move.' She thought as he growled softly and nuzzled his face into her hair.

With a grin, she rested her head back down on his shoulder, 'Let me see, he's warm, comfy and snuggly. Yeah, I suppose I can stay like this for a little while longer.' Feeling his warm body stretched out beneath her, she quickly figured out how she ended up laying on him to begin with. Since the floor didn't seem to be bothering him in the slightest, Buffy decided to abort the mission to locate a bench seat on the bus. In her personal opinion, she already had the comfiest spot.

It only felt like minutes later as she rested against his chest, but Buffy knew hours had passed as she opened her eyes again to morning sunlight and the sounds of the other slayers rousing. Looking out the numerous windows lining the walls, Buffy realized they had entered back into Ohio, and their destination of Angel Investigations was only a few blocks away.

Excitement washed over her, a bomb of relieve that the trip was finally at an end and she could have Cassidy treat Angel's wounds. Looking down at her still sleeping lover, Buffy noticed immediately his color was far better than yesterday, not perfect, but he no longer had that 'walking dead' appearance.

When she touched his cheek with her fingers, he shifted slightly towards her hand but didn't awaken. Encouraged, she used her thumb to caress his cheek this time, pushing a little harder. The effort brought movement from below her as he shifted and roused, she rose up a little as his chest lifted with a deep breath of air and exhaled a groan.

"Rise and shine sleepy head." She spoke softly, wondering if his hearing had returned yet. When he looked like he was about ready to fall back to sleep, she figured the sound was still off. "Hey, time to wake up." She said again, softer as she figured her words were lost on him as she ran her fingers though his hair to stimulate him with touch instead of words.

His eyes squeezed shut before slowly opening, those red tinted deep brown orbs remaining unfocused as he blinked the sleep from his lids.

'Still blind.' Buffy noticed a little disheartened, having hoped Angel's naturally high healing abilities would have cured his vision and hearing loss by now. Angel wasn't usually incapacitated for long.

When Angel opened his eyes, there was no change from when they were closed. For a moment he thought he was just in a dark room, but when he felt sunlight on his arm, he knew it wasn't dark outside, it was dark inside. Despite feeling his wife's hands on his body, he felt his heart rate increasing as panic assaulted his half awake mind. 'Blind, I'm really blind. Can't see, can't hear, can't even smell.'

The darkness, the silence, the complete isolation was threatening to drown him again.

Having died several times, been to Hell and spending over two centuries as a demon prowling the shadows, Angel wasn't afraid of 'the dark', but the inherent fear of being helpless rushed over him nevertheless. That primal terror that always encroached on the mind when it was most vulnerable, like when that deeply ingrained sense of reason was buried under a black and silent world and your brain suddenly has trouble deciphering between the real and imaginary.

It's what most childhood nightmares were made of, that ingrained fear of what could happen to you in the dark.

Buffy saw the signs of a panic attack building in Angel the moment he awoke to find his world awash in blackness. She felt his muscles tense as his face paled, his dark eyes widening as he fought for sight.

Honestly, she couldn't blame him for freaking, because being blind would have terrified her too, but she really didn't need for her husband to suffer a heart attack at the moment. Since her touch alone obviously wasn't enough to chase off the anxiety growing in her lover's heart, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his, hoping a kiss would distract him enough to negate the fear.

Angel's first instinct was to get away, not that he was consciously trying to 'outrun' blindness, but the impulse to flee was an ingrained auto-response shared by human and demon both. Fight or flight was in all the world's creatures, whether man or beast. And this particular man tended to have quite a bit of beast within.

Angel's world had never been so dark before, his eyes had centuries to adjust to a nocturnal nature, his night vision giving him day-like sight in even the blackest of nights. Much of his existence in this world had been as a predator; either stalking his prey or avoiding detection. In general, eyesight was crucial, and a blind predator doesn't last very long in the food chain.

Buffy's lips held tightly to her husband's hoping he'd respond to her love and not the growing tension in his head. She fought hard to counter act his fears, pressing harder against him as he tried to push her off, but since the flight mechanism wasn't working, he auto-switched to fight.

Instead of pushing away, he suddenly yanked her closer, his mouth attacking hers, devouring her offered kisses with his own desperate tongue. He fed off her nearness, her solid form centering him, give his soundless, dark and scentless world a physical tangible existence.

He had something to hold on to.

The nothingness solidified around him, cementing him back into the world. Despite not being able to see her, Angel could feel his wife's body against his, now could even feel the thumping of her heart as she leaned in closer. Her hot breath exhaled out her nose and against the stubble under his as she pushed her tongue deeper into his mouth.

Buffy sank into him further as she felt him responding to her touch. She could feel his focus switching away from the dark and completely towards her, allowing her body to be the distraction he needed to regain his control.

As his sense of balance in the world returned, he parted his lips from hers and sank his face into his mark on her throat. He could feel her heart thumping strong against his mouth, could almost taste her bold slayer blood just under the skin. Her heartbeat was missing from his world still, but the sound of the precious organ in his ears was nothing compared to the feel of it upon his skin. The thump, thump, thump beat steadily under his cheek.

As his own racing heart rate returned to normal, he sat quietly feeling his wife's body wrapped in his arms, just absorbing her warmth and presence, letting her solid form center him.

He let go reluctantly as she slipped out of his embrace, her hand brushing down his cheek and caressing his brow as a sign of affection and support. He also figured she was checking his temperature to validate his fever was gone.

Her lips pressed against his temple, then came the steady motion of her thumb rubbing along the back of his neck.

He knew she worried that spot to calm herself almost as often as she did it for his sake, if not more. Had he been a dog, his leg might have started twitching as one often does when patted the right way.

Instead, a low growl escaped from deep within his chest, the kind Buffy always thought kinda sounded like a purr. She'd learned over time to not tell him that, as it tended to piss him off. Being deaf to sound, she knew he didn't hear it and was more than likely unaware of it, so she bit her lip to keep from smiling and leaned in closer to him, feeling the vibrations from resonating growl more than hearing it anyways.

As she sat there hugging her rumbly honey, a funny thought cross her mind. 'Since marrying a living vampire, I seemed to have become fluent in growl.' Before meeting Angel, all vampric growling had sounded the same to her. Now however, she could easily pick out the differences between the deep threatening roars and the low pleasurable rumbles.

From underneath him, Angel felt the forward motion of what he assumed was the bus stopping, then the feel of thumping as many feet suddenly began to impact the floor, likely the other slayers getting off the vehicle. 'Where are we now?' He wondered, having no sense of location. For all he knew, they could still be in LA.

When he felt no more vibrations in the floor, Buffy stood and helped him up, taking his hand and leading him off the bus as well. He was glad the others were gone, being a spectacle wasn't exactly something he strove for, much less when he couldn't even see who saw what. He could easily imagine how ridiculous he looked being led around, especially since he knew how it felt.

He hated being weak.

This time, Buffy made sure he ducked as they descended the few steps and onto what felt like pavement. Sunlight washed over him and she stopped, he figured she must be talking to someone.

It bothered him intensely that he had no idea what was going on. His wife could be talking to another slayer, Willow, a stranger, or a demon about to devour her…and he was just standing there doing nothing, clueless and useless.

'Useless.' The word echoed in him mind.

Buffy's relief at reaching Angel Investigations was only dulled by the eagerness to see her children. She was thinking of what would be the best time to call home and inform her sister and step-son they were back. She was planning to wait until Cassidy had the chance to look over Angel first and get a prognosis, and then worry crept into her mind on how the kids would take their father being blind.

Her thoughts were slashed to piece as Connor stood grinning at the entrance of the building, watching them exit the bus. A smile that faded as he watched his father moving blindly at Buffy side and realized although he was walking under his own power, his sire hadn't returned unscathed from the battle.

With alarm flashing in the young man's blue eyes, he quickly ran the few hundred feet from the doorway to the parking spot, "Dad?" He called out, worry crossing his face as he reached out to help.

Immediately Connor noticed Angel's lack of response to his voice, his gaze quickly turning to the woman he loved as a mother, "Mom, what happened? Is dad…" He couldn't complete the sentence.

Buffy pressed her lips together and nodded before finishing the sentence for him, "Yeah Connor, he's…he's blind. He used his senses to navigate the collapsing tunnels, he got us out but…the noise and dust were too much for him…he lost his hearing and sense of smell too."

Connor didn't know what to say or to do. It was true he hadn't had grown up with Angel due to Holtz kidnapping him, but in all the time he had known his father he had always been 'larger than life', a hero undefeated. To see the once proud man standing so broken, with a lost and vacant look in his eyes, it was heart wrenching.

"Is it…permanent?" Connor questioned quietly, as if the words could make it so.

Buffy looked up at her husband, watching the uncertainty washing over his face as he tried to understand want was going on. "I don't know." She answered truthfully, squeezing her husband's hand reassuringly and trying not to think about the fact it had already lasted four days. "Cass will know once she examines him." She just hoped it was good news the doctor would provide.

Angel gasped in surprise as someone suddenly and rather strongly grabbed him around the waist and buried their face into his chest. He knew it hadn't been Buffy, as her hand was still in his when the assault happened.

He didn't know many people that would grab him like this, or as tightly, other than his kids. As he reached his hands up to feel the body hugging him, he felt Buffy pulling her arms around him too. 'Connor.' He thought with mixed emotions, feeling his son's shoulder length hair brushing his palm. He was glad to have his son with him, to know the boy was ok, but at the same time he knew the improve hug was more sympathy than anything else.

'He knows I'm blind…useless.'

Having had his fill of pity for the moment, Angel nudged away from his wife and son, hoping to find a place to lie down for a while. Despite resting nearly constantly for what had to have been days, he still felt like he was walking around with a ton of bricks on his shoulders.

Buffy felt Angel's impatience growing shorter and suggested she bring her husband directly to the Med-ward to have Cass check him over.

Connor nodded, wanting to help. He put his father's hand on his shoulder to help guide him without being too invasive.

When he nearly stumbled, Buffy realized Angel was still a lot weaker than she'd hoped he'd be by now. Determined even more now, she moved as quickly as he could manage to the basement where the medical center was located. When the elevator doors opened, she and Connor were nearly carrying Angel by then, the taller man's legs were starting to shake with effort.

Buffy shouldered the Med-ward doors open and helped Angel in as Connor went to get Cassidy from her office down the hall.

A few dozen slayers that had been serious wounded in the battle in LA were resting on most of the cots in the large room, most were sleeping or medically unconscious while a few looked over at Buffy and watched her leading Angel towards an empty bed.

She was just about to lower Angel onto the closest available cot when Dawn calling her name from behind her caught her attention. As she turned to address her sister, Liam dropped his aunt's hand came running into the room, yelling out a happy chorus of "Mommy!" and "Daddy!"

Before Buffy could help Angel sit, Liam latched a hold of his mother's leg when he reached her, his hazel-green eyes shinning bright and his mouth one big grim. Kneeing down to greet him, she wrapped her arms around her two year old son and kissed his cheek, "There's my big boy. I missed you so much. Mommy has to help Daddy for a few minutes, ok sweetie?"

Like a silent heat-seeking missile, Katie ran from Cassidy's office where she'd been playing nurse with a doll when she felt her parents growing near. She dove though Connor's legs as he was entering the office and flew down the hall before breezing past Dawn and charging right for her daddy.

While still kneeling with Liam, Buffy saw it right before it happened. She shouted out to Katie to stop, but it came too late. The little girl was already in motion, jumping up and expecting her daddy to catch her, completely unaware that he could neither see nor hear her coming.

Angel felt Buffy move away a moment before and was wondering what was going on when something slammed into him. He felt his heart jump into his throat as he reflexively caught whatever hit him, but the impact mixed with his weakness and total lack of perception sent him reeling backwards.

His ass hit the ground hard as he dropped, momentum bringing his back and head down to smack the floor a second later. The object wrapped in his arms had prevented him from catching himself in the fall, but despite the fact the impact had hurt like hell, he didn't mind one bit. He didn't need to see or hear or smell to know it was his daughter that had tackled him. With a grin, he sat up and pulled the squirming almost four year old laying on him in closer and kissed her cheek.

His tailbone was throbbing, as were his back and head, but knowing his little girl, and assumed his youngest son, were safe had eased the constant worry that had been gnarring at the back of his mind since he'd watched Connor, Dawn and his children disappearing as the bus towards Hemrey High drove him away. He was back in Ohio with his family; pain couldn't compete with that kind of relief.

Katie had been scared when she felt her father falling backwards, he'd never fallen before when she'd ran to him and now she was afraid he had an ouch and had hurt him worse. She turned her wide chocolate brown eyes on him in fear he'd scold her for knocking him over, but he smiled and kissed her instead.

The same smile mirrored over her face, "No kissy Daddy, yucky." She laughed out before looking up into his face and seeing his eyes. Katie had seen her father's eyes both brown and gold before, even all black once, but never red. That fear he had an ouch came back again as she questioned his eye color. When he didn't respond she turned to her mother, "Mommy? What's wrong with Daddy? Why doesn't he look at me or talk back? Is he mad?"

Buffy finally swallowed the anxiety attack that had threatened her a second ago, watching helplessly as Angel collapsed under Katie's assault. Relieved that the Katie-collision hadn't caused her spouse any visible damage, Buffy turned her eyes off her husband and towards her daughter, "No baby, Daddy's not mad. He can't see or hear you honey, he has an ouch inside."

"Daddy ouch?" Liam echoed, unwinding from Buffy's leg and rushing over to his father to see for himself.

Buffy took a deep breath and took the few steps to kneel beside her family, Angel was oblivious to the speaking, he just smiled wider as Liam hugged him and he pulled the boy into his lap with his sister.

"Daddy will be ok..." Buffy began, trying to figure out how to tell them what happened, but Angel starting tickling them, which immediately replaced their questions with laughter.

Katie and Liam were shrieking laugher as Angel grinned to himself, the children wriggling in his lap like hooked fish as they tied to free themselves of their father's ticklish fingers.

"Should I leave you guys alone?" The younger Summers asked, now standing beside her older but shorter sister. Buffy tore her eyes off her husband and kids to look up at her sister. With a well of relief, Buffy stood and faced the younger woman, "No, they seem to be occupied for the moment."

Dawn nodded, her lips quirking up a bit as she watched her brother-in-law playing with the two on his lap, at the moment, she wasn't sure who was winning.

"How did you know to meet us here?" Buffy asked the young woman as she eyed her sister warily. Despite it turning out well enough, her heart was still pounding from seeing Angel drop with their daughter.

Dawn looked over at her sister with a raised eyebrow in the traditional Summer's fashion, "Since when does Angel not end up in the hospital after an epic battle? Besides, Cass has been short staffed and those little monsters have been keeping morale up for the girls."

Buffy frowned at the idea of predicting Angel would be injured, but let out a sigh, "Ok, point." 'So I'm not the only one who noticed my husband likes to forget his 'this-never-used-to-be-able-to-kill-me-but-totally-can-now' human side more often than not.'

Glancing around the room at the filled beds, Buffy felt extremely thankful so many slayers had survived the battle.

The two sisters were silent a moment, the only sounds in the room in the form of laughing toddlers. Buffy looked over at her little sister again, wanting to express to her how grateful she was to the younger woman for caring for her children and bringing them out of LA before all Hell broke loose. There were a million little things to show her gratitude for, but before she could even open her mouth, Dawn laid a hand on her shoulder, "I know." She said quietly, looking into her sister's hazel-green eyes, "If she could be here, Mom would have done the same."

A sad smile tugged at the blonde's lips a moment before she replied, "No, if Mom was here I'd have to make reservations to see my kids at all."

Dawn mirrored her grin, "Probably right. She would have been the best grandma."

"Yeah." Buffy replied wishfully, then noticed it was time to stop Angel from tickling the kids as they were laughing so hard breathing was becoming an issue.

Cassidy and Connor entered into the room a moment later, Katie and Liam were still giggling as Dawn took their hands and Buffy helped Angel up to sit on one of the cots.

Buffy's hazel-green eyes scanned the back of her spouses head for a bump, she knew he'd hit the ground pretty hard. The grin on his lips didn't hide the pain she knew he was feeling.

Now that the soothing balm of his kids was gone, the living vampire was less than enjoyed at being in the Med-ward again, which he figured out after feeling the cot beneath him. Neither his home nor any hotels would have medical cots, and he knew Buffy wouldn't bring him to a real hospital, not unless his life was in immediate jeopardy. Standard hospitals weren't great for treating people who were more than human, especially if you were trying to live under the radar.

Cassidy nodded to Buffy and moved over to her medical bag, slipped her stethoscope around her neck, and then turned to look over her newest patient from afar. Connor had filled her in on the details he'd learned from Buffy.

Sharp grey eyes scanned over Angel as he sat hunched on the small bed, scowl firmly in place. 'Great, Angel isn't exactly Mr. Congeniality under normal circumstances, factor in both blind and deaf, this could be bad…for me.' The last thing she needed was Angel's demon snarling after her in a blind rage and not be able to hear Buffy yelling at him to stop. Not to mention the risk to the injured young woman around them.

Dawn used the guise of lunch as a distraction for the kids. Katie and Liam both immediately picked up on Daddy not answering questions or looking at them, but Buffy repeated to them that Daddy had an ouch and promised he'd be ok later. She just hoped she hadn't lied.

Buffy sat down on the cot beside her husband, sending Cass a worried look while the blond absently rubbed her thumb over her husband's knuckles. Connor stood off to the side, wanting to be there for his dad and hear what Cassidy's prognosis would be.

Taking a calming breath, the medic stood in front of the living vampire, trying to decide how to handle this situation. It wasn't like she could just show or tell Angel what she wanted, and he wasn't the biggest fan of touch, at least not from people outside his family.

Realizing she had no better methods, she gently touched her hand to the one Buffy wasn't holding, to let him know she was there. His face turned towards the contact, acknowledging he'd felt it, but he made no move to pull away or try and speak.

With a glance to Buffy, the blond nodded for her to continue.

Switching to a more natural rhythm, she checked Angel's vitals, using light touch to prompt him to breathe deep so she could hear his lungs. Normally, she'd skip using the pen-light to check his pupils since she usually got at best a growl and at worst a clawed hand raking for her throat. She learned very quickly not to shine a light into a vampire's eyes, even a living one. However, due to the circumstances, she thought it would be beneficial to take a look.

When the bright light flashed into those dark brown orbs, Angel gave no reaction, neither did his pupils. Cass cringed as she examined the damage within the sockets; some of the capillaries had burst, leaving the whites of his eyes bloody red, which gave him a nearly vamped appearance upon fist glance. The rims and lids were raw as well, evidence of the dust and debris that had assaulted him during the escape from the Hellmouth.

Buffy frowned at the lack of reaction from her spouse, disheartened that his vision was no better after a few days of rest. Other than stopping bleeding, she saw no signs of improvement or healing.

Cassidy moved on to examine his ears and nose, neither of which Angel seemed to enjoy but remained statue still during, abet with a tense jaw. When Cass moved her fingers up to check the too slowly fading bruise under his neck, he jerked back and caught her hand in a tight grip.

The medic froze with horror as images of him ripping her hand off flooded her mind, but instead of intense pain and agony, he simply moved her hand away from him before releasing her unharmed.

"Ok." Cass spoke tensely to the blond beside her, "I'm going to take that as a 'Don't touch my neck, it hurts.'"

"I think that would be a fair guess." Buffy answered distractedly. She had been ready to subdue her husband when he had grabbed Cass, but she hadn't felt his demon reacting negatively towards the medic so hadn't interfered. In fact, she was now focusing more on how quiet the vampire within had been for the last few days, too quiet.

"Cass." The slayer spoke quietly, "Angel's demon was fading out during the ride here, I think it's too weak to present." She updated Cass on how he'd collapsed and Giles's suggestion to force down a few liquid meals.

The good doctor looked Angel's vitals over and nodded, "He's dehydrated, mal-nourished and both physically and mentally fatigued. Under those conditions, I would be surprised to see his healing at full strength. The Boost drinks you gave him are pretty much all that's keeping him upright at the moment." She picked up a gauze pad and dipped it in disinfectant, cleaning up some of the scratches on his arms from the sharp rocks in the collapsing cavern. The fact they hadn't already fully healed supported the conclusion that his demon healing wasn't up to par yet.

The next step Angel wasn't exactly co-operative with, but as he wasn't exactly at full strength he was too fatigued to put up much of a fight. Cass had him rinse his eyes out at the eye-wash station, and then did a similar cleaning of his ears and nose to remove the dried blood and dirt.

By the end, Angel was more than annoyed. Buffy could see the tension in him, felt it in his muscles as he brooded on the cot. He was tired, that was obvious, which in turn was making him cranky.

"So what do we do now?" Buffy asked as she ran her fingers calmingly threw Angel's hair, figuring Cass would want to keep him a few days, run tests and hook him up to her equipment.

All-in-all, the medic was pleasantly surprised she hadn't gotten clawed during the cleaning process; she knew he'd been contemplating it. Although it was more likely the weakness in the demon and Connor and Buffy's constant grip on his arms that saved her from receiving a new set of scars.

"I've done all I can." The redheaded doctor said as she wiped her hands down with an antiseptic wipe.

Buffy looked back at her with a slack jaw, her mouth attempting to form words for a moment before regaining speech, "What? That's it?"

Cassidy tossed the wipe into the garbage pail by her left foot and turned to the blond standing beside her, "Buffy, I can administer medications, perform surgeries and run diagnostics, but unfortunately I simply have no medical treatments to help Angel. I cleaned and bandaged the wounds and gave him a painkiller so he can rest, but as much as I wish I could, there is nothing I can do to restore his senses. To be perfectly honest, what he needs is to go home. Put him someplace familiar and get him to rest. I can stick him with an IV, but real food would be better and he'll actually sleep in his own bed versus a cot."

Buffy swallowed but nodded at the logic. She knew her husband hated the Med-ward, even if he couldn't see it. He did heal faster at home, and as a bonus it would be easier to keep the kids entertained there instead of here. Her eyes scanned around the area, noticing the numerous young woman sporting bandages and IV's, those that were too physically injured to be anywhere else. Angel's injuries were incapacitating but not life threatening, he didn't need to be here.

Absently rubbing the back of Angel's neck, Buffy agreed. "You're right, I need to take him home."

"I'll drive." Connor volunteered.

Buffy looked over at the young man, having forgotten he was there. He'd helped Buffy hold Angel a few times, when the living vampire had shown his discomfort for being prodded, especially while Cass had been rinsing his injured eyes, nose and ears. Between the two, they'd kept him subdued, especially as weak as he was. It was more of a calming with touch than physically restraining him, which was good for all involved.

Since the Summer's family SUV had been ripped apart half way to LA and Angel's GTX was parked in the driveway at home, Connor pulled his car around to the back of AI to collect the group. While waiting for Buffy to guide Angel up from the Med-ward, he belted his siblings into their car seats after Dawn brought the kids down from the cafe.

After almost a week playing 'mom', the younger Summers was finally relieved of her niece and nephew and went to get so much needed rest.

The living vampire was leaning heavily against his wife as they walked, he was exhausted and the pain relievers Cass had given him were numbing the aches that had been keeping him awake. He didn't know where he was going, but he hoped it wasn't far. Surprise was his first thought as Buffy led him out of the Med-ward, he though for sure he'd been spending the next few days strapped onto an uncomfortable cot. As much as he hated it, at least he'd been sitting and was actually contemplating going to sleep before Buffy pulled him up and began walking. He knew they weren't going up to the cafe or offices, as there had been no elevator or stairs up, so he hoped home was their destination.

Buffy held her worry in check while she brought her lethargic spouse out the back of AI into the basement parking lot, she thought it best to avoid the stairs and use the ground level entrance which was usually only used in emergencies for the Medical van.

After a few minutes, everyone was packed into the car and rolling the short drive to the Summer's family home. The only talk came from the two in the car who's ages were still countable on one hand.

Angel was more asleep than awake as they pulled into the driveway, Buffy having to drag him out of the front seat and prod him into walking again. As Connor was freeing the kids from their car seats, Buffy half carried her husband into the house. She'd planned to get him into their bed, where she could change him into fresh clothes and he'd be most comfy. However Angel didn't seem strong or awake enough for stairs, instead she moved him over to the couch and he gratefully sank onto it. In less than 10 seconds, he pulled a pillow under his face, rolled over and was fast asleep.

Buffy watched him for a moment, a frown on her lips at how fast he'd dropped. She ran her hand down the back of his neck affectionately before pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and spreading it over him. Her frown faded into a light smile as he started to snore softly. She bent and planted a kiss on the top of his head a moment before the kids came rushing into the house, a hard-core game of tag in process. Buffy was about to scold them for yelling, but then remembered Angel couldn't hear them, so she let then have their fun as it wouldn't disturb their resting father.

Connor entered into the living room, watching his step-mom while she watched her children began to play with the treasures from their toy boxes in the corner. "Want me to watch him?" He offered, knowing Buffy was desperate to spend some time with the kids after being without them for so long.

Her hesitation lasted only a moment, as the kids rushed over to her, both wanting her to play with them. "Thank you." She told the son of her heart as she was forcefully dragged by little hands upstairs to play with her babies that she'd missed for almost a week now.

The young man glanced over at his father, he could hear Angel's heartbeat and breathing just as well as any vampire, so he knew he was out cold for the time being. Settling down on the seat beside the couch, he flipped on the flat screen TV hanging on the mantle above the fireplace, the only one in the house and not well used except for playing movies for the kids. After flipping the stations for a moment, he grinned as the latest hockey game popped on. As he watched, he tired to figure out how to tell his dad the score when it ended.

…

Angel opened his eyes and looked over at the newborn girl staring back at him, her tiny eyes barely able to open. 'You let me die.' Those sky blue eyes accused, 'you let those men kill me.'

"I…I had no choice." He forced back, his throat tight with guilt.

Her little eyes narrowed as if in anger, 'You had a choice, you chose to watch as a knife plunged into my innocent heart.'

"The seal…the Hellmouth had to be sealed." He tried to defend is failure, the words sounding empty even in his own voice.

The blue eyes faded to brown, the same shade as his own, the small face changing into Katie's. 'Would you have made the same choice if it was me, Daddy?'

Before he could reply, the sacrifice reset, this time his own newborn daughter was screaming in the Hellmouth cavern, held captive by the guardians as they chanted their spells.

The knife fell towards her unprotected chest.

"No!" He screamed, rushing forwards in a blind panic.

Connor nearly fell out of his chair as Angel bolted upright, a panicked look washing over his face, a silent scream on his lips. His heartbeat had tripled within seconds, bringing raw and ragged breaths as the living vampire struggled against the blanket covering him.

Within a second, Connor was up and at his father's side, grabbing the flailing man and holding him down as he fought the nightmare still plaguing his mind.

Angel automatically grabbed for whatever had grasped him, his face shifting as the demon responded to the contact and raging for a fight.

Without delay, he bit, hard.

Connor's mouth dropped open in shock as his father's sharp fangs tore into his neck, his whole body tensing at the sensation, a paralysis gripping over him. In all his years in Quor'Toth, he'd never been bitten; despite his paternity, he instantly found he didn't like it much.

The demon raged within Angel, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of thick rich blood, a taste he hadn't had in years. For a moment, he couldn't place the flavor, but it was too delicious to waste time thinking it over. In moments, he felt the heart struggling with loss, then the organ shuttered and fell still, mirroring the corpse in his arms.

As the body fell away, the source of the flavor on his lips came to him in a sudden wave, Connor's blood.

He'd just killed his son.

With a wave of nausea, Angel bolted upright in a silent yell of horror. The world around him was the same shade of dark as when his eyes were closed, the world just as silent and scentless. His arms were shaking, his body covered in a cold sweat, the taste of blood still washing over his mouth. His gut constricted tightly, threatening to purge his last meal, although at the moment he couldn't remember when that had been. 'Connor!' Angel thought desperately, feeling around him, trying to locate his boy. The memory of his fangs sinking into him son's throat was haunting him, mixing with the heart retching sight of his little girl being murdered before his eyes. 'Gone.' He thought miserably, 'They're both gone.'

From the kitchen, Connor suddenly heard his father's heart rate skyrocket and realized he must have awaken and panicked from the blindness. He forgot the sandwich he was making and rushed into the living room, calling out to his father.

Angel was milk white, sweating and shaking, his body tense as red tears streamed down his face. The worst sight was the blood. It flowed down his eyes and nose, his shirt wetting as the sticky liquid ran down his neck from his ears. The wounds he'd sustained in the cavern had opened from the sudden increase in blood pressure and Angel straining to use his damaged senses.

"Shit." Connor said aloud as he moved to help his father, worried at the seemingly unfounded bleeding.

When Angel suddenly turned a deep shade of green, Connor cringed and grabbed the bucket by the fireplace a few feet away, which was usually for cleaning the ashes from the fire. He shoved the pail under his father's chin a moment before the living vampire pitched forwards as his stomach violently voided its contents, which fortunately the empty organ offered nothing more than bile and acid.

When the cramps and dry heaves began to settle, Angel swallowed and shakily wiped his lips with the back of his hand, the remaining stomach acid left a vile taste in his mouth as he felting it stinging back down his throat. Blood smeared across his mouth, bringing the dizziness back, his head feeling too heavy but somehow too light at the same time. With the world so dark, he could barely tell which direction was up. 'Fall over.' He told himself, 'you'll at least know which direction is down'.

Connor winced as he lightly touched his father's shoulder, making the older man jump from the unexpected contact. Before the younger man could move away, Angel yanked him into a bear hug, the kind that would have crushed a normal person.

"Whoa! Dad? What?" He struggled a moment, a little unnerved by the sudden burst of affection.

"Connor?" Buffy's worried voice called from upstairs, something didn't feel right with Angel, "Is everything ok?"

"Umm…kinda yes and no." He answered, trying to free himself from Angel's tight grip.

A second later, Katie was dragging her mother down the stairs, constantly repeating 'Daddy's ouch again' as she tried to wrestle away. When Buffy's vision cleared the wall and was able to look down into the living room from the stairway, she gasped at the sight of her husband's face once again covered in blood.

Katie took the opportunity to slip her hand away from Buffy's and rushed down the remaining stairs and across the living room to her dad.

'He's alive, Connor's alive, my boy is alive.' Was repeating though Angel's mind as he hugged his son against him, thanking any god/higher power/force of nature that he hadn't killed his first born child. The dream had been so vivid, especially with the taste of blood still in his mouth, he'd really thought he'd murdered his son. But the living, breathing proof was wrapped in his arms right now, his struggles to be free evidence of life. Angel wouldn't have let go yet, but a sudden impact drew his undivided attention. He knew the small arms that wrapped around him, holding him like a well loved security blanket. Another wave of relief rushed over him as he forfeited one of the arms holding Connor to wrap around his little Katie. The image of her being sacrificed was still vivid in his mind, but as he held her the potency of his horror faded as he accepted it wasn't real, his baby girl was safe and very much alive.

Buffy hurried into the bathroom and grabbed a face cloth, wetting it under the sink and jogging over to her husband. "What happened?" She demanded to Connor as she set to mopping the blood away from her lover's face before it seeped into the couch or onto their children.

Liam stood by the side of the couch, his big hazel-green eyes scanning between his mommy, daddy, sister and big brother. His brow furrowed at the red his mommy was washing from his daddy's face, he knew red meant ouch. Wrapping his arms around his daddy's leg, he held tight and hoped the hug would make the pain go away, Katie and Connor were already doing it.

Angel felt his youngest son gripping is leg, while Buffy was running a wet cloth over his face. He wasn't sure why, but quickly realized the taste of blood in his mouth hadn't been Connor's, but is own. As his heart rate returned to normal and the panic, nausea and fear faded, a wave of embarrassment rushed over him for being sick then overly clingy in front of his kids.

'Nothing shows how strong you are like throwing up then weeping like a baby.' He thought darkly as heat rushed his cheeks. He released the two in his arms, his oldest moving away quickly while Katie shifted to sit beside him.

Buffy watched as Angel's cheeks flushed, for a second she though it was a sign of fever, then realized as the red tint spread across his neck and ears that he was embarrassed. Leaning over, she pressed her lips to his forehead to reassure him everything was ok.

"Connor, can you bring some water and crackers?" She asked, wanting to take advantage of Angel being awake and getting some fluids and substance back into him.

"Sure." He replied as he headed into the kitchen to get the requested items, glad to be free of his dad's crushing grip but still eager to help.

The bleeding had stopped, for that Buffy was grateful, however the red liquid had already stained Angel's shirt and both Connor's and Katie's as well.

Liam had smartly stayed clear of the mess.

When the young man returned from the kitchen with the water and crackers, Buffy sent him upstairs with Katie to wash and change.

Angel wasn't all that interested in the food, but gulped down the water greedily to rinse the taste of bile from his mouth and soothe his sore throat. To prevent him retching again from drinking too much water at once, she took the glass away before he could finish and in turn pressed a few crackers into his hand to enforce that she wanted him to eat something to help settle his restless stomach.

Begrudgingly he chewed and swallowed, the now fading nausea less able to overpower the growing hunger had been largely ignored whilst he'd slept.

Figuring he would eat soon enough at dinner, cleaning the blood off came as a higher priority for Buffy at the moment, especially if he was going to be handling the kids. Taking his hand and helping him up, she guided him on slightly wobbly legs to the bathroom beside the kitchen, Liam following silent behind them after collecting his toy truck.

Once in the bathroom, she had Angel sit on the closed toilet rather than lean over, both so he would be at a more accessible level for her shorter stature and be less straining on his back.

Wetting new fresh facecloth, she pulled his t-shirt up over his head and began to wash the blood staining his neck. Some had flowed below his collar, leaving long fingerlike lines down the middle of his upper chest.

Liam watched for a moment before he began to run his truck along the bathroom floor, making 'vroom, vroom' sounds as he entertained himself.

Before she was half way finished, Angel began to grown restless. He never did have the patience for being a patient.

Angel felt like a baby, being washed as if he was incapable of holding a cloth. There had been plenty of times Buffy had acted as a nurse for him, a few of them when he was actually hurt, but right now he felt no pleasure in this. He hated being helpless, much more so when he was capable of doing something about it.

Other than a minor headache, he felt fine now, he certainly didn't think he was in bad enough shape to be treated like a infant that spit up on himself. Acting on that idea, he reached out his right hand and grasped his wife's arm, putting just enough pressure to get the point across that he was done.

Buffy saw the stubbornness mask over his husband's face a moment before his hand grasped hers, she knew it was only a matter of time before he got cranky over it. Rolling her eyes at her lover's bull-headedness she easily slipped her arm away and called out for her secret weapon to come over for a moment.

Liam crawled over slowly, running the truck along the tiles to where his parents were, 'Vrooming' as he went.

"You want to help mommy with daddy?" She asked the almost three year old, a smile on her lips.

His mother's smile helped ease the nervousness he felt over daddy having an ouch, his mommy wouldn't smile if something bad was happening to daddy. The little blond head nodded in agreement as he stood up by his father's leg, resting his truck on his knee.

Angel felt something hard and cool touching his leg, but when he reached a hand out to inspect what it was, Buffy snatched the appendage up and rubbed the wet cloth over his skin. He assumed from the feel of it he'd smeared blood on his palm earlier when he'd wiped his mouth. When she let him go, he touched the object that was repeatedly rolling over his knee. Without the benefit of sight, he had trouble figuring out what it was for a moment, before a small hand grasped his finger and pulled the object away.

'Liam's toy truck' He realized, now recognizing the feel of the plastic frame and wheels moving over his pants. He'd gotten fairly familiar with the toy over the last few months, his boy barely put it down, even slept with it clutched in his little hand.

His ears didn't hear it, but the words, 'No daddy, my truck' weren't hard imagined as the little boy freed the toy from his fingers.

"Share with Daddy, he wants to play too." Buffy encouraged the boy, needing him to act as a distraction for Angel so she could finish cleaning her husband.

Liam looked as if he were contemplating it for a second before nodding and handing the toy to his father, which wasn't able to see the action.

"Remember honey, daddy can't see you. You need to put it in his hand." She reminded her son.

The blond boy blinked a moment, and then pressed the toy into Angel slack palm. "Daddy play."

Angel slowly closed him fingers around the toy, then Liam pulled it out quickly before his grip tightened, giggling as he did. After a second, Angel opened his hand again and Liam touched the toy to his father's palm. For a second time, Liam pulled the toy back before Angel completely closed his hand. Angel wasn't sure what was going on for a moment, but then he felt his boy lean against his leg, the small body shaking with giggles. Figuring out the nature of the game, Angel opened his hand again and waited for the toy to touch his palm.

Once he got engaged playing with Liam, Buffy was able to finish cleaning the blood off her spouse free of any demony crankiness.

…

Connor was munching the sandwich he'd forgotten about earlier while Katie was sipping juice when Buffy enter the kitchen. She'd left her cleaned and changed husband and son in the living room to continue their game while she went to investigate what to do about dinner. When it came to cooking on stove or in oven, she tended to burn everything, but when it came to the microwave, she'd gotten pretty well.

Knowing Connor had a bottomless stomach, like his dad, she pulled out a double pack of frozen chicken fingers and placed them on a plate before tossing them into the microwave.

Sure, they would have tasted better in the oven, but she tended to get distracted too easily and it was more likely they'd end up overcooked, if not on fire.

The remainder of the evening passed by uneventfully, Connor helped Buffy salvage dinner, which consisted of a great deal of ketchup to make it palatable. After they'd eaten, the family retreated into the living room where the kids played with their cars and dolls and the two sighted adults watched a little TV.

Angel sat quietly on the couch; he could feel his eldest son beside him to the left while his wife was nestled up under his right arm. In the dark and quiet solitude, he found it hard to stay awake. Now that the nausea was gone and his stomach full, it further lulled him towards sleep. Without sounds to distract him, sight to focus on something, or even smell to spark an interest, Angel had nothing stimulating his mind. His wife's body heat warmed him, the closeness relaxing…without realizing it, he drifted to sleep.

When Buffy felt the constant tension that had been plaguing her husband since loosing his sight suddenly fade, she didn't have to look up to know he'd fallen asleep. She smirked a little as he shifted slightly in his doze, nuzzling his face into her hair as his cheek rested on the crown of her head.

An hour passed before the kids were tired enough to offer the prospect of bed without too much protest. Buffy carefully untangled from Angel's arms and Connor helped her lay him flat on the couch. She gave the sleeping man a chase kiss on his forehead before herding the toddlers upstairs to change them into their PJs and put them into bed.

Connor was finishing up the end of the movie when Buffy came back down to relieve him of his 'dad-sitting' duties. Buffy wasn't going to be leaving Angel alone again, especially without him being able to yell out if something was wrong. The young man gave his still sleeping father a quick manly kiss before he headed up to his own bedroom to retire for the night. He had a trip planned with friends for the following morning that would require an early departure. He'd offered to cancel to stay and help with his father, but Buffy insisted he go have fun and she would be perfectly capable of handling both Angel and the kids herself.

Once alone in the living room with her love, Buffy sat on the couch beside him and ran her fingers along his cheek to rouse him. The thought to stay down here with him on the couch had crossed her mind so he wouldn't need to get up, but she wanted her comfortable bed after spending 4 nights stuck on a bus and another few days of traveling. With her bed, she needed her pillow too, which was being stubborn about waking so she could get him upstairs.

After a gentle shake of his shoulders, and to speed things along actually pulling him up into a sitting position, his eyes fluttered open as he sleepily blinked.

A groan escaped his throat, sounding raw and growlish, before his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her against him, his face making itself right at home in the crook of her neck.

Although kneeling on his lap at the angel she'd been pulled into wasn't the comfiest position ever, she did smile at his possessiveness. Whether awake or asleep, happy or sad, well or injured, his constant desire to hold her was one of the many things she loved about him.

"You can snuggle me all you want" She told the deaf man, 'after I get you upstairs." Worming out of his grip, she coaxed him up and made it clear he was coming with her.

He groaned again but woke enough to move under his own power, if not in a fog.

They had successfully navigated the stairs and were nearly to their bedroom when movement down the hall caught Buffy's eye. "Katie." The mother scolded, "You're supposed to be in bed."

A princess clad nightgown moved around the doorframe corner as the wearer peeked out. "Can Daddy tuck me in?" She asked quietly, missing her nightly bedtime story her father usually supplied.

Buffy cast a doubtful eye up at her spouse, who looked like he was sleepwalking. "Baby, I don't think Daddy is awake enough to tuck you in."

Despite the rejection, Katie strode out from her bedroom and up to her parents, "Please?" She begged, grabbing her father's hand and giving a tug towards her bedroom.

At the contact, Angel turned his head and tightened his hand around the little one that had grabbed his.

Encouraged, Katie moved forwards and wrapped her other hand around her father's waist, tugging at his shirt in hopes he'd pick her up.

Buffy stood by as her husband seemed to brush off the fog and picked up their daughter, bringing her cheek up to his mouth for a kiss. Figuring he was awake enough now, Buffy led him down the hall to Katie's bedroom so he could perform the requested action. It only took a few minutes, Katie guiding her Daddy's hands to the covers and having him snug them up around her. Buffy placed her daughter's beloved night time companion, Gordie Jr, which was a mirror of her own treasured childhood friend Mr. Gordo, by her side and placed a kiss on her dark haired head. "Go to sleep now Honey."

Katie clutched her stuffed pig and nodded as she yawned, rolling over and nesting into her blanket.

When she guided Angel back into the hall, she found a pair of Hazel green eyes watched her intensely. "Me too?" Liam asked, looking up at his dad hopefully. Unable to hide a smile at the pure innocence in those eyes, Buffy nodded.

All smiles, Liam dashed forwards and snagged his father's hand, nearly causing the blind man to pitch forwards at the unexpected jolt.

"Gently." Buffy stressed to her son, keeping Angel from falling at the toddler dragged them both towards his room.

After repeating the nighttime routine for their son too, Buffy finally led her spouse to their bedroom.

Angel was now much more awake than when Buffy had dragged him off the couch, so when his wife began to undress him like a child, he resisted like one. He was really beginning to hate being treated like an invalid. He was perfectly capable of putting on a pair of sweatpants…as long as he could find them.

Buffy took the hint and pressed his clothes into his hands to let him fumble with them. She hadn't intended to irritate her husband, but she was finding the more she tired to help him the more he resisted. 'I'd be frustrated too.' She figured, putting on her own night clothes and brushing her long blond locks while watching him fumble with the sweatpants.

Once he got them on, she led him to the bathroom and put his toothbrush and toothpaste in his hands, then gave him his privacy while she went to make up the bed.

The bathroom door closed after a few minutes, a ping of hurt crossed her heart when she heard the lock click. It wasn't that she couldn't open the door if she put her mind to it, but the fact her husband had locked her out still implied a sense of distrust in her mind.

Buffy waited rather impatiently for the door to open, finding it hard to sit still while knowing her lover wasn't at 100%. The sound of the toilet flushing was a precursor to the door finally opening, and when Angel stepped out of the room with his hands splayed out searching, she slipped her hand into his right and led him to the bed.

While he got comfy on his side of the bed, she quickly hit the restroom to brush and do her nightly routine before heading back to bed. When she slipped under the covers, Angel was rolled onto his side, facing away from her. Usually they spread out in the middle together, she using his shoulder as her pillow as they slept with arms entwined.

Apparently that wasn't happening tonight.

With a frown on her lips, she fluffed her rarely used feathered pillow and prepared to settle on the cold, silent cloth and down instead her husband's warm chest. Without his heartbeat under her ear, it took longer to fall asleep, but sleep did come eventually.

Angel was tired, but sleep refused to release him. Over and over again, all he could think about was how useless he felt. He didn't want to be a burden, someone who needed to be cared for. 'In the morning… things will be better tomorrow.' He finally told himself, hoping it would be true.

...

Angel sat listlessly on the couch, a brooding grimace on his lips as he contemplated his dark and soundless prison. He was angry and depressed and confused, but above all else, he was bored. He couldn't see or hear so he couldn't watch the kids, he couldn't help clean the house, cook or do yard work, hell, he couldn't read or draw or even watch TV.

He felt as useless as the throw pillow under his elbow…which actually served more of a purpose than he right now.

Drawing in a deep breath and then sighing it out, he absently fiddled with the tassels on the pillow, wondering what Buffy and the kids were doing.

Where they outside in the sun? Was it sunny today? Probably not, it was January. Where they sitting on the floor right in front of him? Was a demon killing them all at this very moment?

He didn't know, he couldn't even get up and walk outside without tripping over furniture or getting lost inside his own home.

Then deep inside him an alarm when off, a feeling he knew well enough, he was being watched.

'By who? Buffy? The kids? Someone else? Something else?'

He turned his head towards the feeling, his eyes open but unresponsive, blank and sightless.

Almost the moment he looked towards the feeling, it vanished, indicating who or whatever had been watching him had stopped.

He closed his eyes a moment, mostly to wet them, and took another deep breath.

God was he bored.

A few minutes later, he felt movement on the couch beside him.

More on instinct than actual need, he turned his head towards the vibrations in the couch.

A moment later he felt a small body crawl into his lap.

He knew his son's movements in an instant, the toddler settling down and getting rather comfy against his father's chest as he put something down on his legs.

Automatically, Angel wrapped an arm around the child, holding him steady as he clumsily fumbled with something as all toddlers do when holding anything.

After a moment he realized it was a thin paper book and a small box of some sort.

Puzzled, Angel ran his hands over the objects, trying to figure out what they were.

Liam's small fingers pried an item from the box Angel held and began to run it over the book in sporadic motions.

'Coloring book and Crayons.' The living vampire realized, feeling the numerous small waxy sticks wrapped in paper in the cardboard box he was holding.

Since his son seemed content enough to just sit in color in his lab, Angel surely didn't mind. The young boy was always looking to be held, so Angel really wasn't all that surprised he was taking advantage of his father's current stationary condition. A free lap was a free lap.

Plus it helped dispel Angel of the mind-numbing boredom.

Every few minutes, Liam would grow tired of the color he was smearing over the page and stick it in his father hand to dispose of it before snagging another shade from the box.

Angel sat in his dark and silent world just feeling his son playing and smiling to himself.

Angel breathed in deep, trying to force his noise to function. He wanted to be able to smell his son's scent, the wax of the crayons, hell even the boy's diaper, anything was better than the constant nothingness.

He opened his eyes, which he'd forgotten he'd closed, and squinted hard into his lap, hoping to make the mental image of Liam sitting on his thighs a visual one as well.

Telling time was impossible with no external senses functioning, but he hadn't thought it had been long before he felt Liam squirming in his lap.

Liam had been happily rubbing purple over the cartoon bear in his coloring book when a splash of red dropped onto the page. In curiosity he smudged it with his finger, trying to figure out where it came from. After a moment, another small circle joined it, which caused the boy to turn and look up at his daddy for an answer.

Liam felt suddenly very afraid as he watched blood run down his father's eyes and nose to drip soundlessly on his coloring book.

"Mommy! Daddy ouch! Daddy ouch!" He yelled, trying to move off of his father in fear he would give him a bigger ouch and to go get his mommy, she always knew how to make daddy better.

The boy was wriggling as if trying to get away, Angel was confused and held him to make sure he didn't fall backwards off the couch in his suddenness to move.

As he 'looked' down, he felt something run down his upper lip then down his chin, yet another tickle running down his cheek.

He lifted the hand not holding his son and tentatively touched his face, wondering why it felt hot and sticky as he rubbed the liquid between his fingers. Cautiously he tested the unknown moisture with is tongue, which he instantly recognized as blood. His own blood.

Liam succeeded in escaping as the shock of realizing he was bleeding registered in Angel's mind, and a second later he felt Buffy clamp a damp cloth against his nose, pinching it shut to stem the steady flow.

A second cloth followed a moment later to mop the wetness from his eyes.

Buffy had practically jumped out of her shoes as Liam had started screaming, and nearly had a heart attack when she saw Angel's face once again flowing red with blood. She grabbed two dishcloths from the sink, soaked them and ran out into the living room, terrified something was seriously wrong with her husband.

Some of her anxiety subsided as she acknowledged he was conscious and alert, and looked as if he were as shocked about the blood as she was.

He wasn't in pain, she could read that much in his sightless yet still expression full eyes, but the wife in her was still horribly worried what has caused him to start bleeding again.

Buffy knew Angel hadn't been struck by anything, she'd known Liam was sitting on his daddy's lap coloring, she had been keeping a watchful eye on both of them since she knew Angel couldn't by definition 'watch' the toddler. How would he know if Liam suddenly decided to swallow a crayon?

As she wiped the blood away, his hand came up to take the cloth from her, but she slapped it away. She wasn't ready to let go of him yet. As she worked, she checked the bruise around his neck where the rock demon had left a nasty hand print, it wasn't as colorful as it was yesterday and she hoped it would be entirely gone in a day or so. As a catch-22, Buffy really enjoyed playing nurse, but she also really hated when her lover was broken.

After sitting quietly for a moment, slowly Angel wrapped his arm around his wife, figuring if he couldn't hold the rag he might as well hold her.

It was then of course when Katie walked into the room and dropped her orange juice, Buffy cursed the timing. Realizing she needed to attend to the situation quickly, she placed Angel's hand around the rag to keep pressure while she grabbed some paper towels from the kitchen to clean the juice up before it permanently stained the rug.

The living vampire felt the pang of loss as Buffy suddenly pulled away from him, leaving him to fend for himself. 'Well you didn't want to be babied…right?' He told himself.

While mopping up the orange liquid, Buffy rang Cassidy at the Med-Ward to explain the sudden relapse to the MD and hopefully get a diagnosis. Cass listened then explained Angel must have been trying to access his currently inaccessible senses, thus putting more strain on his already overly strained eyes, nose and ears, bleeding was the direct result of the strain.

"He needs to rest Buffy, as much as possible to allow his body time and energy to heal. He might look fine on the outside, but his injuries are mostly internal, and might I add not the kind you want to mess with. If he keeps straining himself, he could easily lose his senses permanently." Cass told her, adding a moment later, "I hate to say this, but maybe I should have kept him in the Med-ward, he could be pleasantly sedated at the moment."

Buffy felt her blood run cold, she hadn't thought his injuries were all that serious, his vitals were good and he was walking and moving perfectly fine, but for the first time since exiting the Hellmouth she was really afraid for her husband. Losing his sight, hearing and smell permanently would kill him, perhaps not physically, but emotionally he'd be dead.

She allowed herself a small glance at her husband sitting quietly on the couch with the rag still against his nose and was immensely grateful he was oblivious this conversation.

Swallowing the bitter taste Cass's words had kicked into her mouth, "No, I'd rather have him home." Buffy admitted, knowing Angel was more comfortable in his own house than the Med-Ward, even if having him sedated for his own health did sound mildly appealing. "I'll make sure he gets more sleep."

She'd thanked Cass and hung up. Trying to ignore the pit that was currently wedged in her stomach, she went to rinse the paper towels and spot treat the rug as she wondered how exactly to get her stubborn husband to stay in bed for any length of time, especially if she wasn't laying with him.

She'd absently finished cleaning the juice and looked up to find Katie and Liam watching her and Angel intently. "Hey guys, don't worry, your Daddy is going to be alright. He just needs to rest so he can get better, OK?" She encouraged them to play so she could lure her spouse upstairs and into bed.

Gently, she took the rag from his hand and examined his features. Seeing everything looked normal, she wrapped her hand around Angel's and tugged, letting him know to follow. After a moment, he rose and walked carefully behind her as she led him to the stairs.

Putting his hand on the railing to help guide him, she took his other hand and headed up, watching to make sure he didn't miss a step and trip up the stairs.

Angel let himself be led, wondering what Buffy had in mind. He didn't know what time it was, but he was certain it wasn't bedtime yet and that the children couldn't be left unsupervised for long. His curiosity grew as Buffy began to undress him, slipping off his t-shirt and unbuttoning his pants. 'Maybe I bled on them?' He reasoned, thinking she was just changing him out of soiled clothes. That thought went out the door as he felt her pulling on his sleep sweats.

When she nudged him to sit on the bed, he realized she was trying to put him down for a nap. 'Yeah, not happening.' He thought annoyed, already not pleased with being undressed like a kid again and now adding more insult in the form of a nap.

Buffy cursed to herself as Angel figured out her game-plan and decided not to be a willing player. He stood back up and went to move away from the bed, but she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her lips to his to distract him.

Distracted he was. Touch and taste were his only working senses at the moment, and Buffy was using both to their full extent as she caressed her tongue along his.

She pushed him back towards the bed until his legs brushed against the side and she pushed him into a sitting position on the thick mattress.

Taking her abrupt and passionate actions as she wanted to be intimate, Angel leaned closer to her welcoming warmth, wrapping his arms around her lithe form and pulling her flush against him.

During the kissing, he realized how very much he needed this. Her touch made everything better again. Suddenly he didn't need to see or hear or smell, he just needed the feel of his wife's firm body against his. She gave his empty world a tangible existence, his light in the dark.

'Crap, not what I meant to do.' Buffy scolded herself for giving him the wrong impression and getting him turned on. She really did want to make love to her husband, but now was not the time or place. The kids were unsupervised and he was supposed to be resting, not engaging in strenuous activity, so when she pulled away and stepped back from him, it was more of a slap in the face to him than an actual slap in the face would have been.

Seeing the loss and betrayal reflecting raw in his eyes, she leaned back in and kissed his cheek in a very chaste manor, going for an apology.

He pulled away, the damage already having been done.

'Shit, I really screwed that up.' Buffy cringed knowing he got the wrong impression from her first kiss. Not for the first time since he lost his communicating skills, she really wished she could talk to him.

Instead of getting up as she'd expected him to do, Angel slid further onto the bed and curled up with his pillow, rolling away from where he knew her to be standing.

'Great, now he's pissed at me and brooding, so not where I wanted this to go...' She sighed, feeling both guilty and stupid.

She wanted to try and fix the misunderstanding, but Liam yelled from downstairs and Buffy knew a heart-to-heart with her husband would have to be postponed. Not for the first time that day, she wished she'd had Connor stick around. As much as she wanted to call someone, she knew her friends were busy recovering from the Hellmouth activity as well; she didn't want to intrude in their personal lives again. Promising her herself she would fix this later, she headed downstairs to see what was wrong with her son.

Angel lay uncomfortably in the bed, feeling discarded and used...or even more acutely, unused, having no use...useless.

'Even Buffy doesn't want you like this.' His mind's voice suggested, since it was the only one he could currently hear. 'You're a burden now, not good for anything but a bed warmer. Your own family doesn't want you, you're isolated so they don't need to be burdened by your weakness. They are better off without you.'

He tried to ignore the voice, but it was hard when you received no other channels.

'Not true.' He countered to himself, 'Buffy's just busy with the kids...'

'Because you can't help her when you yourself are helpless.' The voice mocked back.

He wanted to get up, but he didn't feel like stumbling around blindly and making the voice's taunts come true.

He shut his eyes and figuring he had nothing better to pass the time, tried to sleep.

...

By the time Buffy looked at the clock again, it had been two hours since she brought Angel upstairs. She hadn't meant to be that long, but Liam had wanted lunch and then Katie had broken a toy and Liam drew with crayon on her wall, which she then needed to clean before it set.

As much as she loved being a mommy, she hated that parenting didn't come with breaks or vacation time...so it was pretty much like slaying.

Finally the kids were immersed in playtime and she took a moment to sneak upstairs to check on her husband.

To her immediate relief, Angel was still in bed, curled on his side with face buried in a pillow, sound asleep. To her immediate displeasure, she noted there was a definite brooding scowl on his lips as he slept.

'Ok, really need to fix that later.' She promised herself and headed back down stairs to let him rest.

...

When Angel awoke it was dark, but then again, when you are blind it is always dark. He laid still a moment and determined he was alone in the bed, he felt no dip beside him nor vibrations from another body. He wasn't surprised he woke alone, he did remember going to bed that way.

Sitting up, he tried to picture what the bedroom looked like, recalling a mental image into his brain as he looked around with sightless eyes. He knew it was 12 steps from Buffy's side of the bed to the joining bathroom, he knew this thanks to his artist's eye for details. Now all he needed to do was figure out where on the bed he was and in what direction he was facing.

He found out how close to the edge he'd been sleeping when he nearly fell out of the bed getting up. Feeling around for the bed posts and wall, he orientated himself and took a few tentative steps forwards, hands out in front of him to catch the wall before his face if his calculations were off. He counted to twelve and frowned as his hand did not connect to the bathroom door. 'Crap, where the hell am I?' He wondered dejectedly as he moved his hands out further, trying to touch something. His fingers brushed smooth wood and he soon realized his math had indeed been correct, just the bathroom door had been open instead of closed. Holding the door frame, he walked into the bathroom and reached for the door, shutting it behind him.

He didn't bother turning on the light, which would have been pointless, nor did he lock the door, Buffy could rip the whole thing off its hinges if she wished, so the lock was pretty much just for decoration anyways.

Finding the toilet, he decided to sit to relieve his screaming bladder. It wasn't like he could accurately aim at the moment and he didn't need the added embarrassment of Buffy needed to clean his urine off the floor.

Once that was taken care of, he felt his way to the cabinet and pulled out one of the soft fluffy towels. He'd had more than a few sponge baths lately, by now he was really feeling the need for a real cleaning. Placing the towel on the rack beside the tub, he felt around for the shower knobs and turned on the water. He figured Buffy would likely come in to investigate, but didn't really care. He wasn't the shy type and it's not like she'd never seen him naked before.

He felt the water go from cold to lukewarm to pleasantly hot. He slipped his clothes off and slid under the soothingly scalding liquid, relaxing under the hot spray.

...

Buffy looked up from the dryer she'd been yanking clothes from when she heard the water turn on upstairs. 'What the...Angel?'

She left the kids watching a rare movie on their one TV, 'the Little Mermaid', which was Katie's favorite, and headed up to check on her should-be-sleeping spouse.

She entered the dark bedroom, flipped on the light and headed over the joined bathroom. She was glad the knob turned freely as she opened the door, knowing he hadn't symbolically locked her out this time was a comfort.

The room was pitch black, but a lack of windows was to blame for that. She switched on the light for her own seeing purposes and noticed the small room was already hot and steamy. With the light on, the fan also kicked to life, helping dispel some of the mist. Glancing at the shower, she watched her husband a moment through the glass doors, he was standing still under the gushing water, head bowed down with his hands braced against the wall. It wasn't a particularly 'happy' pose.

A part of her wanted to strip and join him, help scrub his back and maybe some other areas, but she knew she couldn't succumb to her hormones with the kids alone downstairs.

Pulling her eyes away to both keep him from feeling watched and to help keep her own pants on, she walked back out into the bedroom and grabbed a change of clothes for him to change into when he finished showering to save him from needed to fumble around the draws himself. She placed them beside the towel he'd pulled out, hopeful he'd feel them as he probed around with his hands, and then headed back downstairs to give him his privacy.

...

Angel shut the water after he rinsed the last of the suds from his hair and body and stood there to air dry for a few minutes.

Reaching for his towel, he felt a pile of clothes next to the fluffy light blue cotton cloth. 'So Buffy did come up to investigate.' He acknowledged, 'But didn't feel inclined to let me know she was here.'

Patting himself dry, he felt for the tags on his garments and slowly dressed, careful not to put anything on inside out or backwards.

He decided he had a 50/50 shot at picking the right toothbrush.

After brushing, he ran his hand over the ample stubble on his cheeks with a grimace. 'Well shaving is mostly by feel anyways.' He thought as he groped around the top sink draw for a razor and shaving cream.

Once he deemed himself clean and presentable, he felt his way out of the bathroom and tried to navigate himself downstairs for something to eat, he didn't need to hear to know his stomach was growling angrily.

...

Buffy was mixing a pot of mac & cheese on the stove when a series of loud thumps came from the living room. Dropping the spoon, she quickly rushed into the next room and gasped at Angel lying at the bottom of the stairs, his mouth moving in silent swears as he tried to rise while simultaneously rubbed his lower back.

'Holy shit, did he just fall down the stairs?' She worried as she hurried beside him and grasped his arm to help him.

He yanked away from her suddenly, furious with himself and almost falling again over the splay of toy cars at his feet.

'Shit, he did fall down the stairs.' She realized he must have slid on one of Liam's cars and wasn't able to see to catch himself.

"Liam Patrick Summers, get over here right now!" Buffy yelled to her son, furious he'd left his toys hazardously on the stairs after she specifically told him to move them before someone got hurt.

The nearly three year old ran into the living room with wide hazel-green eyes. He knew he was in big trouble when he was called by his full name.

"Look!" Buffy pointed to the toys on the stairs, "You gave your Daddy an ouch because you left these here."

Angel was oblivious to her scolding their son, so when he tried to move she grabbed his arm and held him in place while she watched a pouting Liam pick up the toys and put them into his toy box in the corner.

When her irritated, and likely bruised, husband tried to move again, Buffy put one of the toy cars in his palm so he knew what his foot had slid over.

"Now you owe Daddy an apology." The angry mother ordered to her son, picking the boy up so Angel wouldn't have to crouch down and handed him to the living vampire.

Automatically, Angel took the toddler that had been thrust into his arms, a little confused.

With tears in his eyes, Liam wrapped his arms around Angel's neck, "Sorry Daddy. Sorry give ouch." He mumbled against his father's deaf ear, then kissed his cheek.

Figuring out what was going on, Angel ran his hand over Liam's back and kissed the top of the boy's blond head, accepting the offered apology.

After a minute, Buffy took Liam back and gave him a smack across his diapered bottom, "Go in time out, I'll tell you when you can come out."

Sullenly, the little boy moped over to the corner and stood facing the wall.

Buffy hated punishing the kids, but she knew Angel could easily have broken his neck due to Liam's toys being left sitting around carelessly, the thought horrified her.

Nabbing her husband's hand, she pulled him forward and into the kitchen to inspect his injuries.

Katie stood watching in the doorway, wide eyed at Buffy. "Go clean up your mess Katie, dinner will be ready soon."

The little girl watched her parents a moment longer then quickly moved to put away her toys so she wouldn't end up in time-out like her little brother.

As she tried to lift his shirt, Angel pulled away again, obviously still mad at her from earlier.

Worried he'd hurt more than his pride and not in the mood to deal with his moodiness, she manhandled him into position and yanked his shirt up to expose his back.

He had several red marks already forming just above his pant line, a third was just to the left of his spine. Quickly searching the rest of him, she found nothing serious looking, other than the scowl on his lips.

Relieved he was only slightly bruised, she moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer for her husband. Normally he didn't drink outside of social settings, but she could tell he really needed one after the day he'd had, she hoped the alcohol would relax him.

Pouring him a glass, she pushed it into his hand and let him stand all tense and grumpy where he was instead of trying to move him again. She'd give him a few minutes to drink his beverage before trying to touch him again.

Angel felt the cold glass in his hand and realized how very thirsty he was. Bringing it up to his lips he took a long draw. His eyebrow shot up as he tasted Guinness in surprise. Occasionally he shared wine or champagne with his wife at dinner, but beer was reserved for parties, he hadn't known they'd had any in the house.

By then, the water boiling the macaroni was mostly evaporated, leaving the pasta all stuck together and beginning to burn. 'Damn it, why is everything going wrong today.' Buffy grumbled as she removed the pot from the stove and tried to salvage what she could.

Angel downed his drink, hoping the alcohol would help loosen him up. He knew he was being a jerk, he was pissed at himself for being so damn useless and helpless and he knew he shouldn't be taking his frustrations out on his wife. He hated fighting with her, he might as well be a fighting with oxygen, he needed her just as badly.

His arm brushed something solid and he reach out and found himself holding the counter. He put the empty glass down and ran his fingers over the smooth surface, determining by feel it was the island in the middle of the kitchen. He reached down and groped for the cabinets under the tabletop, orientating himself to which direction he was facing. Turning, he took a few slow steps and reached out, his hand brushing the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Buffy turned as she heard a chair being pulled out from the other end of the kitchen and watched Angel plop down heavily into it. He leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the table and rested his face in his hands.

'Oh my poor Angel.' She thought, watching him with sad eyes. She hated when they fought. All she wanted to do right now was go have a seat in his lap and kiss his problems away.

Instead, she spooned the remaining pasta into dishes for the kids and brought the plate over to the table. "Katie, Liam, dinner!" She called into the living room and a few seconds later she helped the two into their booster seats.

As the kids ate their cheesy dinner, Buffy went to the fridge and searched for something for her and Angel.

Angel looked across the table, he couldn't actually see anything but he could feel movement, the vibrations of hands and forks as they banged the surface. 'Kids must be eating dinner.' He figured, "Guess Buffy decided I don't deserve dinner.'

He was wondering if he'd make it to the couch without getting killed when he felt a plate clink down in front of him. He was hungry, but he also knew his wife's cooking. This was a bad time for him to have overactive taste buds. Yesterday's chicken was bad enough, he wasn't sure he'd survive another Buffy-cooked meal.

Almost hesitantly, he moved his hand until it hit the plate so he knew exactly where it was. He hadn't felt a fork and thought it would be pretty cruel to give him something for dinner he couldn't see to stab. Slowly he moved his fingers into examine the contents of the dish, wondering if it will bite.

His fingers identified a sandwich and he sighed in relief. Buffy didn't need to cook a sandwich, so he figured his taste buds were safe and as a bonus, the hands on approach was the best way to eat one.

He felt someone pass behind him and slide into the chair beside him, felt another plate gently click down in front of that seat. A few moments later, something clicked hard down beside his own plate. He instinctively turned towards it, moving his hand to examine what it was and discovered another glass of beer.

He was mostly done with a second sandwich when something else was put on his plate, he cocked his head curiously and felt for what it was, he grinned a little when he found potato chips.

Dinner of champions.

He thought dinner turned out pretty good. Now that he wasn't hungry and the pain in his back had been pleasantly numbed, he felt more relaxed. He was far from drunk or even tipsy after a measly two beers, but he was grateful for the alcoholic pain relief.

He was sitting back in his chair and trying to figure out what he could do to help when he felt something cold hit his hand. Katie was stuffing something long and icy and covered with plastic wrap at him, so he took it not knowing what else to do. After a movement of feeling it, he realized it was a Popsicle. He removed the wrapper and before he could bring it to his mouth, it was snatched from his hand.

'Oh, I'm just the opener, she's the eater.' He figured, shaking his head affectionately at his daughter. A moment later, he felt another one of the cold sticks poked into his hand. This time he opened it and held it out, feeling Liam's little fingers snatch the treat up.

He was just about to get up and grope his way into the living room when he felt another Popsicle slide into his hand, quickly followed by a peck on the cheek. 'Guess that means this one is for me.'

...

After desert, Angel found himself on the couch again, this time being used as a lazy boy for Katie and Liam as they got to watch a half-hour of cartoons before bed. He had no clue what they were watching, but he enjoyed the feel of them laughing every few seconds.

Eight-O-clock must have rolled around, because Buffy collected the toddlers and herded them upstairs for bed.

He thought about hanging down here until Buffy came to collect him too, but decided to just go to bed on his own. He hated being led around like a...ok like a blind guy...which he was...but just because he was disabled didn't mean he wanted to be treated like a cripple.

It took him five minutes to navigate the living room, being overly careful not to trip over anything and break his damn neck in the process, which usually took him under 10 seconds to reach the bedroom when he had the gift of sight.

Due to his nap today, he wasn't overly tired at the moment, and if given the option he would have stayed up to read or draw but since he could do neither at the moment, he figured sleep was about as exciting as his life was going to get.

...

Buffy finished tucking the kids into bed and headed downstairs to spend some much desired quality time with her husband. Her heart sank when she found him missing from where she left him. "Angel?" She called and went in search, checking all the downstairs rooms and even glancing outside. Frowning, she hurried upstairs and to her dismay found him already in bed.

Disheartened, she went back downstairs to clean-up.

An hour later she entered the bedroom again to get ready for bed. She changed and brushed her teeth before finding herself watching her husband sleep, silently wishing he'd wake up so they could spend some one-on-one time together.

She knew it wouldn't take much to wake him, but considering the mood he'd been it earlier she decided against it, plus she really didn't want him going to sleep on the couch downstairs if they got into another fight.

Besides, he was supposed to be sleeping more anyways.

She shut the lights, slipped under the covers next to him and closed her eyes.

...

A terrified scream pierced the night, pulling Buffy from her pleasant slumber.

Angel lay still sound asleep beside her, which never happened before while Katie was having a nightmare. Every other time, the living vampire had woken from the sound of the child's increased heartbeat as her fear crept in.

Unfortunately, he couldn't hear anything right now, including the shriek that had woken Buffy and from the sound of it, Liam too.

Feeling a tinge of regret for pulling away from him so abruptly, Buffy grabbed her robe and slipped it on as she ran out of the room to comfort her wailing child.

The vibrations of his wife's departure partly woke Angel, but being without sight or sound or smell, he was having trouble actually awaking. His world was quiet and dark and the warm blanket wrapped around him helped lull him away from consciousness.

Something deep inside of him felt the fear radiating off of his daughter, but he couldn't quiet grasp it into something tangible. Slowly, the feeling migrated along in his mind, seeping into his dreams.

Buffy ran into her daughter's bedroom and scooped the still screaming toddler into her arms.

"Shh, baby, shh. It's ok, I'm here, nothing's going to hurt you, I promise." She soothed into her firstborn's ear as she rocked the sobbing little girl against her chest, rubbing her hand in a calming motion down her back. She knew from experience Katie would have already forgotten the dream itself, upon waking, but the terror lingered behind for a few minutes until it finally dissipated.

Katie's cries tapered off as she hugged her mother close, the tremors from her nightmare receding more with each passing moment.

The blond wasn't sure how long she'd stood there holding her daughter when the nearly 4 year old raised her dark head from its spot on her shoulder and looked into her hazel-green eyes with her father's chocolate brown orbs, "Mommy, where's daddy?" Her daddy was always holding her when she woke from the bad dreams, except tonight, he wasn't here for her tonight.

Smiling sadly, Buffy kissed her daughter's forehead, "He can't hear you cry Katie, remember, you know he would have come if he had been able to, like he always does."

"Daddy's scared, like I was." The little girl whispered, a pout on her small lips.

Buffy wrinkled her brow, "What do you mean?"

That when she heard a raw inhuman scream from her bedroom.

...