See Part One for disclaimer and details. Greetings and salutations to you, oh faithful readers! Thanks to you, this fanfic has just passed the 10,000 hits mark, which is enough to give us a warm happy feeling deep inside. Thank you for the feedback and reviews as well, which just keep on coming! And it goes without saying, please don't stop now. Okay, quite a few people have asked in their PMs, "When is Xander gonna wake up?!" and so we must reply: sooner than you think. And if you want to know more, read on...

Part Nine: Awakening

Outside Dr. Sparrow's clinic, Los Angeles

February 6th, 2004

Gunn's head was spinning, as he left the surgery and the words of Wolfram & Hart's private brain specialist echoed in his memory. { And believe me, Charles, I don't make deals with people like you. Not the person you really are, the ignorant street muscle...the high school dropout. I would, however, love to make a deal with Charles Gunn, attorney at law. }

So much had changed within the past two weeks...almost everything, in fact. Ever since Cordelia had woken up and everyone had found out what Angel had done with that memory-wipe spell of his, most of the group had quit their jobs and left. Even Lorne had decided to hand in his notice and leave the law firm, the morning after Fred had told them what was what. Gunn hadn't – but now, he wasn't sure whether it was time for him to depart as well.

Because the legal brain imprint the Senior Partners had given him, the upgrade involving knowledge of human and demon law, the various languages, and everything else – it was fading. Dr. Sparrow had told him that his neural modifications had almost vanished completely, and if that was the case, it had to be because that was the way the Wolf, Ram and Hart wanted it.

Then, perhaps not entirely unexpectedly, had come the offer of a deal. A permanent upgrade, in exchange for him cutting through Sparrow's red tape problems regarding some sort of 'curio' being held up at customs. Gunn didn't doubt for a moment that it was a deal with the Devil – and yet, despite knowing that he would end up paying a cost that would almost certainly be too high, he was still tempted to go through with the bargain...

{ And then what? } Charles suddenly asked himself, as he got into his car and drove off. { Look around you, pal – everyone else has left Wolfram & Hart, just about. It's just you and Angel – Harmony doesn't really count, and both Faith and Spike only show up when there's an emergency of some kind. Just how far are you willing to go, in order to prevent yourself from going back to what you were? }

That was a question which Charles Gunn couldn't answer. That was why he found himself heading for the Hyperion, and arriving at Angel's hotel; without really making a conscious decision to talk to someone there about his problem. { Huh, home sweet home... }

Except that walking through the courtyard and arriving at the front doors of the place, the Hyperion honestly didn't feel like that to him anymore. Gunn could remember spending some of the happiest days of his life here – he'd had a girlfriend, and a mission, and even a family, despite them not being related to him in blood. But now – he and Fred were no longer an item, the family had split apart at the seams, and as for his mission...

{ Wolfram & Hart lawyer versus vampire killer. Lord, things sure have changed, haven't they? } Gunn thought to himself as he entered the hotel lobby. Only to find Wesley, Cordelia and a white guy he didn't recognize sitting and talking on the couch.

"So tell me more, David. What kind of building are we talking about, exactly?" Wes asked, leaning forward.

David Nabbit leaned back, shrugging. "It depends. What did you guys have in mind?"

"Something big. Big enough in order to house all the Vampire Slayers that will be stationed in Los Angeles soon," Wesley said reflectively.

"But we don't want the place to be some sort of abandoned wreck, either – I mean, Xander will be needing medical care 'til he wakes up, and Slayer super-strength? Those girls will probably be ripping the handles off all the doors, if the place isn't up to code," Cordelia said acerbically.

"Okay, well, there's a new hotel I know of that's about 80% built – but after the L.A. tourism industry dried up thanks to the whole permanent midnight thing, the investor money likewise vanished to finish off its construction," David mused. "I'd have put in the company's money myself, but Nabtech's board of directors weren't interested. Still, we're talking indoor pool, hot tubs and workout rooms..."

"Something that'd make it a very popular Slayer hangout," Cordelia nodded.

"What'll it cost?" After David named a figure, Wes nodded. "All right – I'll talk to Mr. Giles, and see what I can do to acquire the funds to purchase the place. Hopefully, it can become our new headquarters..."

"Don't like staying in Angel's hotel, huh?" Gunn interrupted, after clearing his throat. He had gotten tired of waiting for everyone to notice his presence and added, "Not all that surprising, I guess."

"Gunn, what are you doing here?" Cordelia asked him in surprise.

"Got a decision to make," Charles replied. He then added, "Needed to talk to someone about it."

"You're thinking of leaving Wolfram & Hart?" Wes asked, his eyes narrowing. It wasn't too hard for him to have arrived at that conclusion, after all.

"Yeah," Gunn nodded, but deciding not to say anything else about it to these two. He already knew what their reactions would be. "Faith around?"

"No, actually, she's not," Cordelia frowned. "I think she went to the East Hills Homeless Shelter today, something about-"

"Annie's place?" Gunn interrupted. "Yeah, okay, I might go see her there. Be good to catch up with an old friend, while I'm at it. Thanks." He quickly turned around and left the hotel, ignoring the questions from both Wesley and Cordelia as the lawyer decided to head for his new destination.

The homeless shelter in question had been a safe haven for both him and his sister Alonna, long before he had met Angel and the others. Charles suddenly remembered the many nights when the two of them had crashed there, along with the various crack heads, runaways, and abuse victims that had had nowhere else to go. So he asked himself, { Why haven't you done more to help Annie out? Damn it, it's been damn near nine months – and not once have you visited the place. Hell, even a week's worth of your salary woulda been enough to keep the shelter going for nearly half a year! Face it. You screwed up, man, big time! }

Such thoughts were not exactly welcome in Gunn's mind, as his car pulled up in front of the building. He was already in turmoil about the decision he had to make, concerning Dr. Sparrow – so the last thing he needed on top of that was a case of the guilts, where this place was concerned! "Hello? Annie?"

"Charles!" Anne 'Annie' Steele replied, giving the black man a swift hug after he came in through her front door. "How are you doing?"

"Eh, could be better. Yourself?"

"Still fighting the good fight, I guess." Anne grabbed a box from a nearby pile and put it down on the floor, as Gunn rushed to help her. "How are things uptown?"

"More fight, less good." Gunn moved a couple of boxes himself.

"Sounds serious," Annie said, eyeing him speculatively.

"Yeah. And sorry I haven't been around – for nearly a year." Gunn's voice was suddenly full of self-recrimination.

"Okay, that's it," Annie said, putting the last box down and guiding him over to a couch. "It sounds like you need to talk."

"Yeah, I do. Faith around?"

"No, she left about ten minutes ago. But I'm here, if you want a sympathetic ear."

He thought about it, and upon deciding that this woman might be a better confidante than the Slayer, Gunn told her everything. Right from the first day when Buffy and her people had shown up at the Hyperion, and then he and the rest of Angel's group had taken over Wolfram & Hart, all the way up to his meeting with Dr. Sparrow earlier today. "So, that's it. Either I do a deal with this guy, or I end up being what I was before-"

"Charles?" Annie interrupted. "Have you talked about this with your friends? Or Angel? And if not, why not?"

"Lorne's gone, and I already know what Fred, Wes and Cordelia would say – they left Wolfram & Hart straightaway, remember? And Angel – ah, hell, hate to admit it...but deep down, I can't really trust him to act in my best interests anymore," Gunn confessed painfully. "The guy was willing to mind-wipe me and everyone else that way, who knows how he'd react to this! I mean, before – basically, I was just the muscle at Angel Investigations, ya know? But Angel's got heaps of S.W.A.T. team people there now, he doesn't need me for that. With the lawyer stuff, on the other hand-"

"Of course. And now, because it's almost gone – will soon be gone completely – you're worried that Angel won't have any use for you any longer," the blonde woman nodded.

"What the hell am I gonna do, Annie? Should I take the deal that brain butcher offered, or not? I mean, I want to, but-"

"Is the price one that you're willing to pay? You don't know. Yeah, I've been there," Annie admitted, much to Gunn's surprise. Off his look she added, "A few years ago, I was involved with a fundraiser sponsored by Wolfram & Hart. Big charity ball, something supposed to bring in roughly two million dollars – but then Angel tells me it's all a con. That I'd wind up with five percent of the final take, if that. I didn't know what to do – so I thought about it, and eventually I decided five percent of two million was better than one hundred percent of nothing, and I refused to help him stop Wolfram & Hart from stealing everyone blind. Told myself that ethical principle doesn't pay the rent, or feed the starving homeless."

"So what happened?" Gunn asked curiously.

"Everything got completely screwed up, of course – all the money was stolen during the big night, and I ended up with one hundred percent of nothing anyway. It was just pure luck that Angel decided to give that five percent to me later on, and I was able to keep the shelter going after I hid the money safely," Annie said reflectively.

"So what are you sayin', Annie? That there's no point in making a bargain with the Devil, when you already work for him?" Gunn asked, with a sinking feeling in his chest.

"I don't know about that, Charles. But I think you should ask yourself this – what do you think Alonna would tell you to do, if she was still with us?"

Gunn flinched, as the blonde woman's question hit home in his mind. He had deliberately avoided thinking about that – on account of if his little sister was still around, the odds were that he'd have never gotten deeply involved with Angel in the first place. Never would have become a lawyer, either, and be faced with this agonizing decision.

"I think...Alonna wouldn't even recognize me, if someone brought her back tomorrow. Like what happened with Darla, way back when," Gunn admitted painfully. "Damn. Alonna – if she were here, she'd tell me that I've sold out, and that I'm willing to do almost anything to try to be someone I'm not!"

"You've made your decision, haven't you?" Annie asked sympathetically, looking into the black man's eyes.

"Yeah," Charles nodded, looking pained but now also determined. "First thing tomorrow morning, I'm gonna find Angel and tell him the truth – before I hand in my resignation from Wolfram & Hart."

Headquarters of the new Watchers Council, London

February 13th, 2004

"This is insane, Giles! That street gang should not be hunting vampires, and we shouldn't be helping them do it!" Buffy shouted at the head of the Council. "I want you to tell them that they should lay off the whole demon hunting thing, until we get a Slayer team operating properly in L.A.! They're just going to get themselves killed!"

Giles exhaled loudly, trying to resist the urge to take off his glasses and polish them – before mentally shrugging and giving in to temptation. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Buffy."

"Yes, it is! I'm making it that simple!" Buffy said determinedly.

"Unfortunately, it's not your decision to make, either," Giles said slowly, before seeing Buffy's face turning an interesting shade of purple. Silently cursing how he had approved Wesley's requests for supporting that particular vampire-hunting militia – or at least, that he had told the blonde Slayer about it – the head Watcher asked, "Buffy, why are you, um, so firmly against these people receiving Council funding to do what they can, i-in order to save lives?"

"Because they shouldn't have to do that anymore!" Buffy exploded. "My God, did Willow activate all those Potentials for nothing?!"

"Buffy, please. You do recall that Los Angeles contains roughly ten million people, and spans a metropolitan area of at least ten thousand square kilometers, do you not? And yet, there are less than a dozen Slayers in that city, and that's i-including Faith. They, they can't possibly cover all that territory by themselves, you know..."

"They don't have to! We've got Angel there to help with that!" Buffy said defiantly.

"Ah yes, your, um, former boyfriend. Someone who's still running the local branch of Wolfram & Hart, and whose friends have all left him behind – because of that memory-alteration spell he allowed to be cast upon them, as part of his deal with the Senior Partners," Giles said mildly. "So forgive me if you putting Angel in the, err, positive side of the column, d-doesn't fill me with confidence about that vampire automatically doing the right thing all the time."

Buffy glared at her old mentor for that, but wisely decided not to say anything further on the subject. What with Willow and Dawn still firmly of the opinion that Angel was no longer one of the good guys, she knew that there was no point in adding fuel to that fire with Giles right now. Besides, she herself was still slightly ticked off at her ex for keeping Spike's return from Dust-ville a secret, even if she couldn't deny that Faith might have had a point with that whole 'helping the competition' thing.

"Buffy." The oldest Slayer looked up as father figure leaned in towards her, from across his desk. "Tell me what's wrong. Really. I'm, err, not incorrect in assuming that you're not this upset, b-because of Mr. Gunn's group being armed to fight the good fight, am I?"

The Summers woman sighed. "Yeah. It's just – oh, Dawn and I are still having the occasional fight about Xander. Willow's vanished again, and I can't talk to my best friend anymore. The job...uh, never mind. And it's kinda hard having a part-time boyfriend, who lives in a different country to the one I do!"

"Ah," Giles nodded. "And then there's also the fact that no one approves of your liaison with the Immortal either, yes?"

Buffy threw up her arms in frustration. "Well, yeah! I mean, I know he's done things in the past that might be considered, I dunno..."

"Criminal?"

"Well, yeah. I guess. But hey, it's not like the picture Xander painted for me in Rome, where my boyfriend's a completely evil asshole!" the Slayer said insistently.

"Not all the time, anyway," Giles replied dryly. "Tell me, Buffy – why exactly did Xander object to your dating that man?"

"What, don't tell me you don't know?"

"I, uh, no, actually, um, I-I-I'm afraid the boy stopped confiding in me about such things. Long before that, ah, meeting you two had at that café in Rome," Giles admitted somewhat sheepishly. "Looking back on it, Buffy – that, that sh-should have been my first clue that Xander had decided to end his association with the Council, as it were."

Buffy sighed noisily. "Well, Xand told me that the Immortal was bad news. That he was even worse than Angel and Spike in some respects. So naturally I told the guy that my love life was none of his business, and then he made some crack about how I was dating somebody who was going to give me a case of neurosyphilis, or necro-syphilis, or whatever the hell he actually called it – and everything kinda went completely downhill from there..."

"I see. Uh, well, Buffy, th-that might actually be a legitimate concern," Giles said musingly. "You, um, you are aware that the Immortal entered into sexual relations with both Darla and Drusilla during the nineteenth century, aren't you? According to the chronicles I've consulted, the man has a documented history of, uh, 'sporting' with the consorts of both Angel and Spike. Something which, come to think of it, includes you – twice. And there's no telling what sort of disease that man might pass on to others, which his immortality protects him from..."

Buffy briefly looked sick. "Oh. Geez. Well, thank God Xander didn't mention that – or I'd have gotten even madder than I did that day in Rome, and knocked his teeth out as well as calling him a useless wimp!"

Xander's room, Hyperion Hotel

February 23rd, 2004

Willow looked around, feeling the oddest sense of déjà vu. It had been nearly two years since she'd set foot in this hotel room, when Cordelia had been possessed and recuperating from that flesh wound; and yet it seemed like only yesterday...

Then again, maybe not. Willow Rosenberg had changed over those two years; there was no doubt about that. Her exile in South America – which was now over, thank the Goddess in her all her forms, thanks to Giles and the Council finally reaching a settlement with all the relevant parties from last year – had left the redhead much more appreciative of the little things in life, which most people took for granted.

Like opening the mailbox and not finding any hate-filled letters. Walking down the street, and not having to worry about what would happen if the glamour she was wearing suddenly stopped working. The value of friendship, and trying to help someone in need...

That was the reason Willow was here today. Not to try to wake Xander up – just about everyone in the know understood now what that would lead to, after what Ethan Rayne had tried to do last month – but to fix something that could be fixed. His missing, gouged-out left eye.

"I dunno about this," Faith frowned, looking at Willow. "Red, you sure you know what you're doing?"

"That's what I'd like to know," the registered nurse named Melissa said, likewise frowning. "I mean, I'm no expert on magic – but I thought this sort of thing was more or less impossible?"

"No, it's not impossible. I mean, you can do an eye transplant these days, magically or otherwise. Had myself a vision about it, during the bad old days," Cordelia shuddered briefly in loathing, before dismissing the memory. "But Willow's planning to do something different to that – right?"

"Yeah," the witch nodded, still studying Xander carefully. "I mean, Cordy, you're right about the whole transplant thing – and Melissa, you're right about how hard it is to simply magic up a fake eye for someone, just like that. All sorts of things can go wrong, due to the optic nerve's connection to the brain – and you can drive someone crazy from all the conflicting signals, y'know, with the lack of coherent vision."

"So then why take the risk?" the nurse (whom Cordelia had hired not long after moving into the hotel) demanded. "Especially with my patient?"

{ Possessive, much? } Faith raised an eyebrow at that. { Still, I suppose that's what Cyclops Boy is to her professionally, if nothing else. } "Huh, she might have a point there; coma and all..."

"Actually, it's better that Xander's in a coma for this," Willow argued at once. "For what I'm planning to do in order to restore his eye, we'd want him unconscious anyway. So, so, no need to administer a general anesthetic!"

"Okay, but if you're not doing a transplant, then what exactly areyou going to do?" Melissa asked.

Willow took a deep breath. "Create a clone of his right eye, and rewire the nerves leading to the chiasma and the visual cortex of Xander's brain after, uh, inserting it into the empty eye socket."

"WHAT?!" Cordelia demanded hotly, before anyone else had a chance to say anything. "Willow, you didn't mention anything like that to me before! Why didn't you mention anything like this to me before?!"

"Uh, 'cause I knew you'd instantly make with the freak-out? Kinda like you're doing right now? But don't worry; I know what I'm doing..." Willow began to say.

Cordelia instantly dragged the witch out of the room, and stared hard at her in the hotel corridor. "You know what you're doing, huh? Really, Willow? Just like you knew what you were doing when you were sure that Buffy was stuck in some hell dimension, and then you and those other three idiots tore her soul out of Heaven – without checking to find out where she'd actually ended up?"

{ Ouch. } "Okay, yeah, I screwed up there, can't deny that; even if I'm not sorry that Buffy ended up back in this world, one way or the other. And I know you have a right to be concerned about this, Cordelia," Willow said as calmly as she could. "You, uh, you kinda have a lot invested in Xander's welfare, right? After you ended up inside his head and all, I mean."

Cordelia exhaled, blowing some hairs out of her eyes. "Yes, Willow. I have a lot invested in the big goofhead, even if nearly everything that I picked up while I was in there is gone now-"

"Nearly everything?" Willow interrupted.

"Well, I can remember that conversation with his subconscious, and the trials he underwent for me. And I can remember bits and pieces of the life we would have had together...if you'd kept your lips off of him, way back when," Cordelia said, ignoring the redhead's slight flinch. "But apart from our children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, I can't remember anything about the next seven decades anymore. Which is all for the best, actually – because feeling like you're nearly a hundred years old that way? Not fun!"

"Yeah, I guess not," Willow agreed, privately thinking it was a shame that the Seer hadn't written any of it down before the knowledge had faded from her mind. Knowing about and preventing something like the next 9/11 would have been darn useful, in her view. "Still, getting back on topic?"

"Right. Xander," Cordelia nodded, her expression hardening. "Okay, convince me that this is the right thing to do!"

"I've done the research," Willow said firmly. "Both in England, and here. Angel granted me access to all the knowledge that was available in Wolfram & Hart's vaults, after we finally mended fences. I've read up on all the spells required, and even practiced the technique on a one-eyed dog that Kennedy found for me in Brazil. Between that and what I've learned from the Council's old archives, I can guarantee you that no harm will come to Xander, whether the eye restoration thing works or not!"

"It. Might. Not. Work?!" Cordelia demanded angrily.

"Well, no one's ever done anything like this before, as far as I know," Willow shrugged helplessly. "At least, not on a human being. But I can do this, I know I can! I just-"

"This is my boyfriend – sorry, my former boyfriend that we're talking about," Cordelia interrupted again, chastising herself for the slip and feeling annoyed at the slight smile that briefly appeared on Willow's face. "Willow, if something goes wrong-"

"It won't! It won't," Willow cut her off hastily. "I mean, even at the first sign that something's not right, I'll abort and it'll be as if nothing ever happened. Please believe me, Cordy; I don't want any harm to come to Xander, any more than you do!"

"Yeah, I believe you. Still, are you sure there's nothing more you can do to prepare for this? Y'know, so that you can guarantee me that it's gonna work?" the Vision Girl asked suspiciously.

"Yeah. I mean, no, there's nothing more I can do to prepare for it," Willow shook her head. "Everything I can possibly think of, I've already done."

"All right, fine; then let's do this. But like you said – even one hint that this'll become yet another one of your magical screw-up's, and you stop. Straightaway. Understood?" Cordelia demanded.

"Understood," Willow nodded, and so the two women went back inside Xander's room.

Against the expectations of most people present, the entire thing actually went off according to plan. The stem cells that had been extracted from Xander's bone marrow were injected into the empty eye socket and magically programmed by Willow to form a new eye, dividing and proliferating at incredible, breath-taking speed to create the organ in question. Willow then closed her eyes and began manipulating the nerve pathways within Xander's head, very carefully. Slowly but surely, then, the new eye settled into place, and Willow's concentration was such that she never even noticed Cordelia gripping Xander's hand tightly –

But eventually, the Rosenberg woman did notice (as did everyone else) that Xander's left eye wasn't brown in color, but rather hazel instead. The exact same eye color that Cordelia saw, every time she looked into the mirror –

Alley behind the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles

May 13th, 2004

Angel ran as fast as he could in the pouring rain, heading for the pre-arranged rendezvous point. He was thinking of his son and his Seer, easily able to visualize the faces of both Connor and Cordelia, as he ran – their eyes, especially. Blue and hazel colored eyes, the eyes of the two people he loved.

It had been a busy three months or so, as far as Angel was concerned. For example, Harmony had quit and left the law firm after one too many scary encounters with Faith, and he'd had to find a new secretary. He'd killed the man named Greenway, just as that criminal was about to murder five nuns in order to jump to another dimension and escape justice. He had even needed to help Spike try to figure out what his grandchilde's true purpose was nowadays, after Lindsey had been exposed and abducted –

And last but not least, Angel had had to investigate the 'curio' that Dr. Sparrow had been interested in getting through customs – a sarcophagus containing the remains of the Old One named Illyria. Something that had eventually ended up at the good doctor's clinic, despite being delayed for longer than what would have happened had Gunn decided to accept the proffered deal.

Eventually, Angel had learned that the Wolfram & Hart scientist named Knox had used Eve (who had been discovered and captured by that point) for Illyria's host. Both because Fred had wanted nothing to do with any part of Wolfram & Hart any longer – including Knox himself – and Illyria's worshipper had convinced himself that the former liaison to the Senior Partners wouldn't be missed, locked up within that dungeon alongside the serial killer known as Matthias Pavayne.

Too bad for him that Knox Webster had been utterly wrong, at least on the second part.

The Wolf, Ram and Hart never forgot a debt, especially one owed by their no-longer-immortal creation – and so Eve and Illyria had ended up sharing the same body, the woman's soul safe from the fires of the Old One's resurrection due to the safeguards the Senior Partners had built into her. And in an ironic twist, the first thing Illyria had done after awakening was kill Knox, because she could easily feel the overwhelming anger Eve had had for him. Likewise, sharing the body somehow caused Illyria to develop 'feelings' for Lindsey as well, and led to her eventually rescuing him from that Wolfram & Hart prison dimension...

Not that Angel had cared much about that, at the time; he'd been too upset that Cordelia had refused to budge on the matter of 'them.' The undead CEO suspected the Seer had rejected his overtures of love because he hadn't been able to leave the evil law firm, at least not without Connor going back to what he'd been. He'd hoped that was the case, anyway; and at the very least, Angel had been pretty sure Cordy hadn't gotten involved with someone else...

Xander Harris vegetating in his coma hadn't been a viable consideration, in his mind.

But then the time had come for Connor to kill Sahjhan, and later that night – the unexpected, brief appearance of Darla had given Angel a vision concerning the Circle of the Black Thorn. Subsequent events hadn't taken place exactly how that African witch doctor had foreseen they would happen, but they were close enough – and so earlier this evening, Angel, Spike, Gunn (who had been talked into helping out), Eve/Illyria and Lindsey had killed seven-ninths of the Black Thorn.

It would have been a clean sweep of the entire Circle had Angel decided to bring Faith on board, but he hadn't – on account he didn't think the Council would have appreciated their number two Slayer getting killed as part of his private war, and Wesley would have made his displeasure clear upon losing one of his best assets. In no uncertain terms.

Unfortunately, this attack on their earthly instruments had given the Senior Partners the excuse they needed to send a demon army to take care of Angel and his people, once and for all –

When he got to the chain-link fence at the end of the alley, Angel looked around for the others, but failed to see anyone. The sky thundered above him, as the heavy rain continued to pour down.

"Boo," a British voice said sarcastically, as Spike walked out from the shadows.

Angel took in his grandchilde's battle-hardened appearance. "Anyone else?"

"Not so far. You feel the heat?" William the Bloody asked, looking around.

Angel nodded. "It's coming."

Spike seemed happy, in his own way. "Finally got ourselves a decent brawl."

Just then Gunn came running down the alley toward them, carrying his homemade battle-axe. "Damn! How did I know the Fang Boys would pull through?" His steps became progressively less sure, though. "You're lucky we're on the same side, dogs, 'cause I was on fire tonight. My game was tight..."

The human almost collapsed from his injuries, but Angel and Spike caught him and helped him to a box on which he could sit down. Spike started looking at Gunn's wounds, frowning. "You're supposed to wear the red stuff on the inside, Charlie boy."

Gunn looked down at all the blood, but only said, "Any word on the others?"

Just then, Illyria jumped down from the chain-link fence to stand behind Angel. "Lindsey is dead. Cyvus Vail killed him, before I could get there...I slaughtered the vile coward for his actions afterwards. His death screams were quite pleasing."

The three men expressed their sympathy, as the blue-haired Old One morphed into her human aspect. Eve said, "Lindsey's death is hurting both me and Illyria like you wouldn't believe. And I want to kill a lot more of them, before I join the man I love on the other side!"

Everyone began to hear a crowd clamoring not far away. Spike said, as the noise began to draw closer, "Well, I guess wishes just happen to be horses today..."

Angel silently looked at the approaching army. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of demons of all sorts, shapes and sizes. Looking upwards in the pouring rain, the original vampire with a soul saw a huge, winged dragon fly angrily towards them.

Gunn seemed determined not to just lie down and die, especially here of all places. "Okay. You guys take the thirty thousand on the left..."

Eve transformed back into Illyria, as the Old One examined the bleeding for a moment. "You're fading. You'll last ten minutes at best."

"Then let's make 'em memorable," Gunn said, as he got up.

Angel stepped forward and the others loyally followed. They stared at the horde of demons approaching them in the alley.

Spike asked of no one in particular, "In terms of a plan?"

"We fight," Angel said brusquely.

"Bit more specific," the other ensouled vamp drawled.

Angel stepped forward. "Well, personally, I kind of want to slay the dragon." The demon horde began to attack. "Everyone, stick close together..."

He began to swing his sword, just as the enemy forces got right in Angel's face. So all things considered, it was very lucky for him and the others that Faith and her fellow Slayers and the Council forces showed up, approximately five seconds later.

"God damn it!" Faith shouted, incensed at the cluster-fuck that had erupted. She noticed the dragon setting fire to the hotel as flames erupted out of its mouth, and so the Slayer yelled, "Rona, get everyone out of the Hyperion! The rest of you, with me!"

"What the-?" Angel muttered, briefly seeing Eve/Illyria go down under a horde of roughly fifty demons, but not paying much attention to that. In between ducking and weaving against the enemy and killing any of them that he could, the vampire's gaze could not help going towards Cordelia – who was now floating high in the sky, far above their heads.

And without warning, erupted in a blaze of blue-white light, her eyes solid white, the brunette woman glaring down at the demon army which had been attacking everyone...

Suddenly, everything went white. Supernova white. Looking into an arc-light white. Arctic ice-field white.

When the spots and sparkles began clearing from his eyes, Angel saw the entire demon army turning black and smolder-y, before starting to crumble into ashes and dust.

All of them.

Even the dragon fell from the sky, dead as a doornail, before crashing into the burning hotel and demolishing it once and for all.

"Sodding hell," Spike said woozily, from not far away. "Now I've seen everything..."

Not quite, as William the Bloody abruptly went sailing away thanks to a lightning bolt that came down from the skies, and crashed directly into Angel.

The Shanshu prophecy was fulfilled, as Angelus vanished howling into non-existence and Angel's human physiology was restored.

"I've got a live one!" the Slayer named Vi called out, as she came across the unconscious form of Gunn. Not far away, Spike got up and made his way back to his (former) grandsire, shaking his head vigorously in order to try to focus.

"Shit – Vi, get Gunn outta here, and to a hospital! Shannon, help her!" Faith commanded. She then came up to Angel and said, "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm alive," Angel said in amazement, wondering if he was dreaming right now.

"So, if I turn you, will that make me your dad, then?" Spike smirked facetiously. He then blinked, as Faith suddenly punched Angel in the face and the man stumbled back, yelping in pain. William then said, "Not that I'm objecting, luv, but why?"

"Take a good look at my home for the last five months, pal!" Faith gestured angrily at the burning hotel. She then turned to Angel and said, "What? I know you owned the place, but you couldn't have taken a few seconds to give us a heads-up to vacate the premises, earlier today?"

"Aggh! My dose," Angel gurgled, ignoring the question. "I t'ink it's bwoken!"

"Well, in the big poof's defense – not like we knew it was gonna go down exactly like this," Spike shrugged, even though he was also smirking at Angel's discomfort.

"Whud he saib," Angel choked out.

"Then I got a newsflash for ya! If any of my girls inside that hotel got killed – or even worse, if Xander didn't make it out there alive – Cordelia's gonna do a lot worse to you than I did," Faith told him harshly. "Now take my advice and scram, you and your sidekick here."

"Oi! Not a sidekick, Slayer!" Spike snarled, looking greatly offended.

Faith ignored that. "Seriously, both of ya, get going. 'Cause Queen C is probably gonna be out for blood, and if she is, I'm not gonna be able to stop her. Not really sure right now that I want to, either!"

"C'mon, mate," Spike grabbed Angel's arm, the one whose hand wasn't trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose, and dragged the ex-vampire away. "Best we follow Charlie and his Florence Nightingale to that hospital, 'n check you out..." He looked around and asked, "Hang on, what about Eve? Illyria? Whatever –"

"She didn't make it," Shannon told him in passing, as the Slayer rushed towards Gunn and Vi as per Faith's orders.

"God damn it," Faith cursed again as the two men left, looking around at all the bodies before joining Wes and the rest of her people in getting the wounded to medical care.

Headquarters of the new Angel Investigations agency, Osgood Boulevard

June 18th, 2004

Not all that far away in the private hospital where Cordelia had been set up last year by Angel, Ethan Rayne appeared in a burst of white light – confused, disoriented and with less than a week to live.

By contrast, Whistler appeared here without any fanfare. He then looked down at his watch as he thought of the Chaos mage in question, before looking up again. { Okay. British guy has finally shown up, already. Here's hoping he doesn't end up yet another pain in my butt... }

The Messenger for the Powers exhaled wearily, thinking over recent events. He had copped a lot of flak from his superiors Up There for what had happened last month; but in his defense, Whistler had pointed out that Angel shouldn't have chosen to do something so suicidally stupid! That entire thing with Darla had been set up for Rat Boy to reconcile with the Vision Girl and his former pals, for everyone to start working together again and accomplish some good – not for him to go on a kamikaze mission, and drag nearly everyone down with him!

{ Well, I guess that's what I get for simply following orders from the Powers. Harris, you owe me big time for reacquainting them with human emotion, way back when! } Whistler thought grouchily. He knew that if it hadn't been for his subtle intervention, the comatose man would never have made it out of Blood Breath's hotel alive that night; likewise the Messenger knew that the Senior Partners, in one last bit of spite before being done with Angel forever, had decided to make him useless – and turn him human back then.

{ What a way to fulfill that prophecy. And I betcha the guy still thinks it was the friggin' Powers who did it, } Whistler thought cynically. { I oughta send another memo about them setting up a decent P.R. department down here... }

In any case, the battle had been reported on the news as a horrific gang war, with a lot of dead and burned bodies. And not that he cared much – but Whistler knew that, along with the big blackout before Jasmine's birth, that had officially caused L.A. to lose all of its appeal as a vacation spot...

{ Never mind. Focus. You got a job to do. }

"Okay, kid. Hope you've enjoyed your little nap, 'cause now your sleepy time's over," Whistler told the comatose Xander Harris, before placing a hand on the guy's forehead – in order to make Harris relive that dream conversation with his subconscious from months ago. The one with the representations of Shaman Bond, Jeeves and Dawn, and where Xander had been told, "Ethan Rayne. The Key. Time. That's all the hints you get!"

Whistler vanished, and – finally – Xander woke up from his coma.

TBC...