Deadboy and Zeppo, Part 1
Rated TEEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Angel stopped at the smell of vampire. Young vampire. He suppressed an urge to growl at an invader who would have the temerity to move in on his territory. Pushing his demon to the background, he moved closer and a second smell hit him. Cordelia. Damn.

Angel silently sped down the stairs of the Hyperion hoping to catch the intruder before the young vampire could hurt his seer. In the lobby, he froze as he tracked the scents back to the employee area. Cordy must not know that the intruder was vampire because her scent carried sadness and distress but absolutely no fear. Moving carefully Angel stalked down the service hallway and pushed through a door until he could hear the voices.

Voices?

Angel had been willing to overlook the whole Harmony incident, but enough was enough. She couldn't keep talking to vampires. He paused to try and figure out who was in his kitchen with Cordelia.

"I just don't know what to do," a male voice said miserably.

"She really did go too far this time. But you know you can't stay here. If Gunn sees you…"

"Maybe that'd be best. I don't know where else to go." Angel stopped in confusion at the sound of a depressed fledge. This was making less sense all the time.

"You can't just give up."

"Yeah, actually I can. My sire gave up on me. Spike threatened to sell me to some Initiative scientists. Riley offered to have me chipped. Giles suggested staking me, and Buffy and Willow just wanted me gone, so I’m not really seeing a reason to keep going." Angel froze in horror of what those words implied. Cordelia clearly understood that she was playing hostess to a vampire, and his demon rattled its cage at the thought of punishing the creature who had stood between him and his prey at that hospital. The soul just wanted the fledge with its familiar voice to go away.

"They're just upset. But you have other reasons to live," Cordelia said in a voice far kinder than any Angel had ever heard before. Angel hesitated, not sure how to approach the whole situation without Angelus getting too involved. Maybe the boy had a soul; he certainly didn't sound like a typical fledge.

"The Babylon 5 plate collection doesn't seem all that important now, and once I ate my parents, the vengeance and gore and blood seemed… okay, it still seemed pretty damned satisfying…" So much for the soul theory. Angel didn't wait any longer; he threw himself through the swinging door. Since Cordy was the one closest to the door, he grabbed her and thrust her behind him as he challenged a game-faced Xander.

"Deadboy," Xander snarled through his fangs.

"Cordelia, get out to the lobby," Angel said as he watched the fledge wearing Xander Harris' body move to the center of the kitchen with far more grace than Xander had ever managed to use.

"If you think for one minute…" Cordelia started arguing, but Xander interrupted her.

"Cordy, just get out of here," he said as he dropped out of his crouch and stood with slumping shoulders and a hand braced on the stainless steel counter.

"Xander Harris…" Cordelia started.

"Cordy, please," Xander's demon face fell away, and the soft curves of Xander's human face turned to her with wide brown eyes. Angel could smell the fear, the outright terror, and his own demon reveled in the scent. The human this creature had once been had called Angel boy, had challenged him, had belittled him, and the demon demanded revenge so loudly that the soul couldn't even think straight around Xander. But Xander was dead, and the fledge who wore his face would soon follow. "It's just… Cordy if you have one ounce of love for the friend I used to be, just go."

"Angel," Cordy turned her steel-edged voice on him.

"Cordy, I won't stake him without talking to you about it first, so go back to the lobby." Reassured by his promise, Cordelia backed out of the kitchen.

"You two play nice!" she ordered right before going through the swinging doors, and Angel focused all his attention on the human-faced demon standing in his hotel.

"You seem to have changed teams," Angel said as he stepped forward, and Xander backed up even more quickly. The scent of fear drifted through the air, and Angel could see the white around Xander's knuckles that spoke of hunger and a need for blood.

"Yeah, so I guess this puts us on opposite sides again, huh?" Xander kept his human face in place, and Angel couldn't imagine the effort that required considering that Xander was so young that he still smelled of his own death. He smiled as fear now poured off the boy.

"You think showing me that face and cringing will save you?" Angel demanded. This wasn't Xander. This was a demon wearing Xander's body, but this demon had Xander's memories and would be a nice substitute for Angel to work out some of his aggressions toward the late Xander Harris.

"I'm not cringing," the demon growled back, his true face showing with a snap of fangs.

"You seem to have inherited Xander's stupidity coming here. You don't have a chance against me." Angel had expected the fledge to lunge into a surprise attack or drop to his knees in supplication or maybe even run for the door.

"I never expected to survive our little meeting, Deadboy," the fledge said as he again dropped into his human features.

"Then I won't disappoint you," Angel moved fast enough that the Xander-demon didn't even have time to retreat. Angel put his forearm on the demon's throat and slammed him back into the cupboard so hard that the impact of the demon's head against the metal reverberated through the room. One of Xander's hands grabbed his shoulder while the other ineffectually pulled down on the arm. Xander was such a young fledge that its instinct to breathe was still firmly implanted, and Angel watched the mad struggles subside as the vampire slowly realized that he couldn't suffocate.

"I only promised I wouldn't stake you," Angel said as he allowed his own demon to the front. His face ached with the shifting of bone and fangs dropped down. He started leaning in toward Xander's neck, using his arm to push the demon's chin up. While Angel had expected kicking and squirming and struggling, Xander simply tilted his head back and went still.

A small part of Angel started wondering at the strange behavior, but he had given his demon rein, and the sight of that vulnerable neck short-circuited all other thoughts as he drove long fangs into the fledge's flesh.

"Oh my god, Angel, let go of him right now." Cordy shrieked, and Angel threw himself backwards, only keeping one hand on Xander's chest, but Xander didn't even try to fight back.

"Cordelia, go watch the desk," Angel said slowly, struggling to bring his demon back under control. Whenever he allowed his violence to feed the demon, he always struggled to regain his balance, as if sanity were a balance beam he walked and the demon's madness threatened to tip him over the first time he lost control. This time Angel had to close his eyes and concentrate to put Angelus back in the box.

"Cordy, it's fine, just leave," Xander added quietly. Angel looked up toward Cordelia and was caught in the woman's accusatory glare. He glanced back toward Xander and could see why. The fledge's neck was badly torn and blood trickled down the front of his shirt and onto Angel's hand. Angel flashed on another image, the image of William struggling as Angelus had held him against the brick, William's blood dripping down. Boy had gotten a good horse killed, and William had come close to a final death that day. The taste of William's blood, the taste of Xander's blood, the taste of his own blood all mixed in his memories.

"Call Buffy. Tell her that…"

"I think she knows. She's the one who told Xander to head for the hills and not look back." Cordy stood with her arms crossed defiantly.

"Tell her that Spike got rid of the chip somehow," Angel said with clenched teeth and wished for not the first time that Cordelia would just listen.

"No. He didn't. God, I'd kill myself before I'd let fangless get a fang in me, and yeah me being dead does make that sound a little redundant." Angel could feel Xander press against his hand now as the fledge tried to step forward, but Angel's years and Xander's blood loss meant that he didn't have the strength to put up any significant fight. "Of course, if you want to kill him anyway, that's fine with me too since he tried to sell me."

"If not Spike…" Angel let his words trail off as he thought of his favorite childe pouting about her lost kitten.

"Dru," he said in a flat tone. The others kept encouraging him to be more human and show more emotion, but as he felt his demon anger rise, he knew they didn't really want to see this part of him.

"She said she had to punish Buffy for stealing Spike's eyes, and I'm hoping that was one of her crazy sayings because I don't think of Buffy as the eye-stealing kind."

"So she turned ye," Angel finished as he silently cursed his insane childe. Even his demon said that he'd gone a little far with her.

"Yeah. Turned me and dropped me on the slayer's lawn." Xander's struggles had stopped, and he leaned back into the wall and closed his eyes. "So let's just get this over with."

Angel had been looking around the kitchen but at those words his head snapped back to this fledge who didn't act like a fledge. Xander had tilted his head to the side so that the neck wound opened a little more and a trickle of fresh blood flowed over the tracks already drying against his pale skin.

"Angel, don't even think it mister," Cordy warned, but Xander just stood still as the smell of fear and blood and submission made Angel's demon crowd forward.

"Cordy, go get the chains." Angel blessed his luck when she turned and practically ran from the kitchen without argument. Xander simply opened his eyes a crack so that he watched from behind his lashes. Angel had a flash of William giving him that same sad, resigned expression after a beating, and Angel stepped back away from the fledge before he lost control.

"You, sit," Angel snapped in his deepest voice, and the fledge's legs went out from under him leaving him to slide down the wall to the floor. Angel looked down at the miserable and reeking fledge that was the newest member of the line of Aurelius and cursed his luck.


Angel paced the room from the boarded up window to the dusty bed. He would have thrown himself in the chair, but his demon raged inside, and he didn't have the strength to still it. Xander Harris. Angel could feel his fangs itching to drop as he considered the fledge who was currently washing layers of dirt off his body.

The water turned off with a screech of the pipes and Xander appeared in the doorway, his hands chained in front of him and a length of chain dangling to the floor. His face and chest were clean but his shoes still reeked of sewer and a long rust-colored stain down one leg of his jeans left Angel stone-faced in his attempts to quiet Angelus' hunger and rage. The boy who had challenged him could feed when Angelus couldn't. Angel nearly lost his silent battle.

"I told you to clean up," he snarled instead.

"Yeah, well this is as cleaned up as I'm getting as long as you're doing the chains thing, Deadboy."

Moving with inhuman speed, Angel grabbed Xander by the throat and pushed him back into the bathroom until the young vampire was bent backwards over the sink, the back of his head pushed against a mirror which reflected nothing.

"Don't call me that," he growled with a flash of fang.

"Yeah, right. Or what? You'll kill me? Let's be honest here because I'm thinking I really don't have a whole lot left other than honesty. You're going to kill me sooner or later anyway. Either you're going to get tired of having me around reminding you of what it means to be a vampire or you're just going to kill me because you always wanted to kill me... Xander... whatever. You wanted to kill whoever wore this face." Xander's babble stuttered to a stop even though he kept looking up angrily. Angel had to give the vampire some credit, it reeked of panic and fear, yet it refused to show that fear. He was surprised at how much like Xander the vampire who took his body had become.

"There are far more interesting things to do than dust you," Angel whispered, and Angelus celebrated in the back of his mind, sending images of Xander's broken body. "After all, I never did get to try out the chainsaw." Angel smirked as Xander paled and yellow bled into his eyes. The smell of terror intensified. "So, I told you to get cleaned up and you'll do it properly."

Angel reached down and grabbed Xander's legs, yanking them up so that Xander had to clutch at the counter as Angel ripped off both shoes before dropping Xander back down to the linoleum. Then he reached to Xander's waist and ripped the button and zipper open before yanking down on the denim.

"Should've known you'd be into the kinky sire stuff. Spike always said the stuff written in the watchers' journal was rot, but I knew you two always had a little too much significant eyeage going on when you were together." The room was stuffed with the dark scent of terror, and Angel ignored Xander's words as he turned the shower on and thrust the young vampire under the spray.

"Stay there," he snarled as he backed out of the bathroom, struggling to regain his balance on that edge of sanity which had been growing ever thinner lately. Doyle had told him that he would come closer to humanity by living among them, but lately he doubted. He turned his eyes upward as he resumed pacing the room and silently begged his friend to give him some sort of sign. He could feel his redemption slipping away like the sanity under his feet, but he couldn't seem to stop either.

And a dead Xander Harris in his shower, smelling of fear and submission and fresh blood... that wasn't helping matters. He stalked out of the unused room he had assigned to one newly turned fledge largely because of the huge iron ring set in the wall above the bed.

"Well?" Cordelia asked the minute he turned the corner into the main passage where he'd told her to wait. "He'd better not be washing down the drain as a pile of ash, Mister," she said both hands on her hips.

"He's taking a shower. I need to find him new pants," Angel said wearily as he moved down to the far end of the hall where his own rooms were.

"Someone lost their pants?" Angel nearly groaned as Wesley appeared at the top of the stairs. Ignoring the question he headed for his bedroom.

"Xander," Cordelia offered helpfully.

"Harris? Xander Harris is here?"

"Yep. Her Buffiness gave him the boot, and he showed up not long after sunset." Angel flinched at Cordy's casual dismissal of the pain this must have caused Buffy. He paused in the middle of the hallway caught between wanting to call her and offer his sympathy and being terrified of talking to her and the constant loss he felt at the sound of her voice. At one point he had hoped that his redemption would come in time for him to reclaim that love, but now he knew it would never happen.

"Angel? You okay?" Cordy asked, and Angel started moving again.

"Fine," he answered.

"Oh yeah, because you'd tell us if you weren't, right?" she sarcastically bit back.

"Not now."

"Whatever. I don't have time to deal with your issues right now. Is Xander going to be okay? The gaping neck wound was a little intense."

"He's fine," Angel answered at the same time Wesley exclaimed, "Oh Good Lord. Is he all right?" Angel ignored the conversation as he reached his room and started digging through his clothes. Xander was almost the same size, he could certainly roll a cuff up once or twice and wear any of Angel's pants. The problem was that Angel wanted to find a pair of pants that he wouldn't mind turning to dust with the fledge if the opportunity arose.

"He's not fine. He's whiter than you, and he wasn't walking all that well."

"Perhaps we should consider taking him to the hospital," Wesley suggested from the doorway. Cordelia's derisive snort should have clued him in, but Wesley continued. "Was he attacked near here? Perhaps we should call Gunn."

"He was attacked in the kitchen," Cordy offered as Angel pulled out a pair of stone washed jeans Cordelia had given him. Faded jeans really didn't fit in with his image of himself, but he could see Xander wearing them.

"What?! Was the hotel invaded?"

"Only by Mr. Attitude. If I hadn't walked in, Angel would have drained Xander." Cordy's words led Wesley to step back and begin radiating fear. Angel gritted his teeth as the sour odor stirred the demon that he had just quieted.

"Cordelia left out the part where Xander is already dead. She also left out the part where she invited a vampire into the hotel for a cup of blood and some kitchen conversation," Angel watched as the Wesley's wary stare transferred from him to Cordelia, but she stood there with her arms crossed, far more willing to endure the censure than Angel had been.

"He's a friend."

"He was a friend. He's now a vampire, and I thought you learned something from Harmony," Angel pointed out as he pushed past both of them to head back down the hall.

"Oh no. You do not just walk away from this, Angel. Xander was perfectly behaved down there and you are not going to kill him when he wants to die."

"Xander wants to die?" Wesley asked in a small, bewildered voice.

"So I should wait until he recovers and tries to kill us all before I do it?" Angel asked dryly as he turned around to face the two humans.

"I don't think Xander will..."

"And Buffy knows all this?" Wesley demanded.

"Stop interrupting," Cordy ordered with a backhanded slap to Wesley's arm. "And yes, Buffy knows this. She tossed him out after he got turned."

"But why didn't she give him his soul back?" Wesley asked with the pinched expression that meant confusion when he used it even though on any other person Angel would have guessed constipation.

"Good question," Cordelia answered. "I would have found out except that someone interrupted us."

"Cordy, he is not Xander Harris. He is a demon who is using Xander's body as a disguise, a hiding place. You can't treat him like Xander or expect him to act like Xander." Angel pointed out with a sigh. Sometimes he wished Doyle had chosen a different successor because every once in a while Angel had trouble dealing with her stubbornness. Hell, he usually had trouble dealing with her stubbornness.

"He has Xander's memories, and he has a lot more of Xander than I would expect. Most fledges are more into the mindless grrrrr, and he's still him. He has more personality than any fledge I've ever met, well except for Harmony. She was still pretty much Harmony, up to and including the betrayal because that is something Harmony would have done, even as a human. But Xander was never like that; he was always loyal."

"Who's loyal?" a deep voice asked, and Angel closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall as Gunn climbed the stairs three steps at a time. Angel silently sent a curse to the universe, and he could feel his demon mocking him from within. Being around humans wasn't helping him become more human, it was just making his fangs itch.

"Xander Harris, one of the slayer's friends," Wesley offered.

"And why are we talkin' about him?" Gunn asked as he leaned on the banister.

"We aren't," Angel added.

"He showed up here tonight," Cordelia said at the same time.

"Rather a vampire with his face showed up here tonight," Wesley corrected her, and Angel felt a moment of affection for Wes who had sided with him.

"Oh no. Girl, you are not taking in another stray vamp. We stake them, remember?"

"You are not staking Xander," Cordelia insisted, and Angel remained silent despite his own frustration with her plan. If he didn't stay silent, he was going to say something that she'd spend the next five years making him pay for. Angelus flailed at Angel's cowardice. This time the demon sent up images of Cordelia's broken and bleeding body.

"And how are you going to stop me?" Gunn said as he stepped forward, and Angel managed to avoid the cringe. He'd lived with Darla long enough to know how much damage a woman like this could do. Even Angelus avoided thinking about what Cordelia would be like as a vampire.

"Don't try it, mister." Cordelia narrowed her eyes and stepped forward so that she was chest to chest with Gunn, and as Angel expected Gunn immediately started backing away from that aggressive and yet intimate contact. And of course the minute Cordy had him in retreat, he was lost.

"Xander was a perfect gentleman downstairs just like he has always been, and while I don't suggest having him baby-sit any time in the near future, you are not going to pull a Buffy and drive him away with your threats. Because if he doesn't feel safe here, I will make sure you never feel safe again." Angel just watched as Gunn's resolved crumbled.

"Man, I am out of here. If you guys figure out which side you're on, you give me a call. Otherwise, don't ask me to play friendly with the enemy." Gunn gathered the remains of his manhood and retreated down the stairs muttering about crazy white people, and Angel had a near overwhelming urge to join him in retreat. The three remaining members of Angel Inc. stood at the top of the stairs in silence as Gunn stalked out the front door.

"He'll be back," Cordelia proclaimed when the door closed, and Angel just started down the hallway again. He considered telling Cordy to wait at the junction of the two hallways, but he suspected that he'd lose that fight, and he didn't feel like getting humiliated in front of Wesley. Instead he led the two humans toward the room where Xander waited.

Angel's stride broke as he considered Xander's words from earlier. Kinky sire stuff.

Angelus both sneered and celebrated at the though of being a sire to Xander Harris. He considered all the times he had William broken and begging and crawling on the floor. Angelus fairly purred at the equal parts admiration and fear his youngest had held for him. He remembered the devastated expression on William's face as he had shown the boy over and over that the only vampire rule that mattered was the one that said a vampire could do anything as long as he was strong enough to defend himself from the consequences.

Oh yes, Angelus admitted that siring Xander would be even more satisfying than killing him, but Angel shivered in revulsion. Time to dissuade the fledge of that thought. Well, just as soon as he got rid of the two humans following after him. He didn't want to have a clan discussion in front of people who weren't clan.

 


Angel had expected Xander to be on the bed, or maybe in the corner depending on how seriously he had taken Angel's threat. Instead as he walked in, the fledge was nowhere to be seen and the water was still running.

"Stay here, he's still in the shower," Angel said as he walked into the room and looked in the bathroom. Xander stood under the falling water with his head thrown back and his hair, longer than usual, guiding the water onto his back where it flowed down in sheets. Steam rose from the hot shower and clouds of vapor blurred the edges of Xander's body, drifting and thinning in places to reveal the pale skin.

Angel hadn't realized that the boy had so much muscle on him, but the water followed the contours of Xander's well defined back, dividing to flow over his smooth butt and then meandering down his legs. Angel watched the water trails dodge around leg hairs on those curved thighs.

"Well?" Cordelia's voice broke him out of his reverie, and Xander spun around so fast that he lost his footing on the tile and went down in a heap. Obviously the demon hadn't changed Xander that much.

"Hey, no free looks," Xander complained from the bottom of the shower as he brought his chained hands down to cover his privates. Angel flashed a bit of fang, and Xander pressed himself farther into the tile.

"Xander, are you okay?" Cordelia pressed by Angel to look in for herself, and Xander curled up so that his knees would provide some coverage.

"Fine, just not really into being the main attraction at a peep show. Peep show bad; giving the vamp some privacy good."

"Oh, please. Like you have anything I want to see anyway," Cordelia dismissed Xander's comment with a sniff once she had seen for herself that he was safe.

"Hey, I've got lots of good stuff to look at. Anya called me a Viking."

"Anya the demon?" Cordelia asked with a raised eyebrow, and Angel looked over in surprise.

"A demon?" he asked.

"Ex-demon," Xander corrected him, but when Angel shot him a dirty glance, he shrank back into himself even farther.

"What are you doing still in the shower anyway?" Cordelia asked as she left the bathroom and planted herself on the edge of the dusty chair.

"It sounded better than the other option Angel gave me," Xander practically shouted out the door, and Angel dropped the jeans on the edge of the sink before retreating. He really didn't need to see Xander unfold that strong body, and he really, really didn't need to see exactly why a demon would have referred to Xander as being a Viking, despite the fact that Angel agreed with the assessment from the glance he caught: well formed cock, heavy balls.

"And what option was that?" Cordelia asked in a bored tone of voice, and Angel suddenly realized what choice he had given Xander. He prayed that the boy had an ounce of discretion. Actually an ounce of self-preservation would work because if he told Cordelia the truth, Angel would turn him to dust.

"Angel offered to try out a chainsaw on my hide," Xander called out. Angel suppressed a groan as he realized that Xander never had discretion or self-preservation. He couldn't expect the demon that was using Xander's memories to be any better. Right now though he had bigger worries, like the glare of death Cordelia was aiming at his forehead and the shocked gasp from the doorway where Wesley hovered uncertainly.

When Xander appeared at the door to the bathroom with his hair still dripping down making dark stains at the waistband of his jeans, his eyes went instantly to Cordy. At that moment, Angel realized that Xander's words had been intentionally designed to anger Cordy. Angel turned to face the fledge, and fear caused Xander to drop his eyes to the floor instantly.

"Cordelia, Wesley. Go do something downstairs," Angel said quietly.

"I'd rather stay," Cordelia said just as quietly. Angel closed his eyes briefly as he struggled to not lose his temper.

"Cordy, go downstairs."

"Look, I hate to point this out to you but..."

"Cordy, please," Xander said from the far side of the room where he now had his back against the wall. He moved his chained hands up and down nervously as if he didn't know what to do with his hands since he couldn't cross his arms.

"Xander, you're the one who just said he threatened you with a chainsaw. You really think I trust him now?"

"Cordy, just go away. I'm hungry and I don't like you being around when I'm hungry," Xander said with a flash of game face, and the sight shut Cordelia up when nothing else could have.

"Oh god, Xander," she breathed with a shaky voice as if she had just noticed that he was dead. Her eyes brightened with tears, and Angel knew he should do something, say something, offer some sort of comfort. Instead he stood awkwardly as Cordelia stared at the young vampire. For his part, Xander stared at the floor as if he had discovered the meaning of life in the rust and olive green carpeting. Xander shrugged once as if it didn't matter. However, he smelled of such misery that Angel had to wonder just how wrong the turning had gone this time.

"Cordelia, go down to Ondary's place and ask for some fresh blood. I'm about out, and Xander is going to need more than I have." Angel expected some sort of response, but Cordy just slowly stood, shining eyes focused on the miserable vampire against the far wall as she quietly left the room.

"She'll be a while," Angel said as he walked over to the door and closed it to give them some privacy. Wesley had retreated with Cordelia, but Xander just shrugged again.

"How long has it been since you fed?" Angel asked. He really didn't want to know, and he definitely didn't want to discuss the topic in general, but Xander really did look far more pale than was normal for even a vampire.

"Cordy gave me a mug full downstairs," Xander said with a quick glance upward. Angel could feel Angelus' smug satisfaction at the fledge's clear terror. Every time Angel moved, he could see Xander's body twitch in response. The demon remembered how that felt, to have a fledge, a childe, a minion, who lived and died by your word.

He remembered Dru's quiet cries and calls for 'Daddy.' He remembered William's pathetic struggles to impress Angelus and claim Dru. He remembered Penn's total devotion. All of them had looked to Angelus as the source of life and death, and the power had fed his demon. Now Xander's fear fed Angelus' struggles, and Angel snarled as he fought to regain control. Unfortunately, his snarl sent Xander sliding backwards along the wall, and Angelus practically roared his approval.

"Stop flinching from me like I'm about to eviscerate you," Angel snapped as he turned his back on Xander.

"So then, evisceration is off the torture checklist. I'm thinking that just leaves about, oh, five million other things I really don't want to learn about." Xander's words were so close to what Angel would expect from the human Xander that they caught him off guard and he turned and stood staring for several seconds at the creature who was and wasn't Xander Harris. He stared for so long that Xander flinched back farther, and Angel turned and faced the door again as he battled Angelus over the right to beat Xander into submission. Of course, it wouldn't take much beating to achieve that goal right now.

"Oh for god's sake," Angel exclaimed as struggled for control. He closed his eyes and chanted a quick mantra about patience and virtue. Behind him, the soft clinking of chains reminded him that he wasn't alone, and his current problem wouldn't just go away. "Get on the bed," Angel ordered unemotionally. The smell of fear doubled.

"Don't really swing that way, Deadboy," Xander answered, and Angel turned with a snarl.

"I told you not to call me that," he snapped, realizing he was in game face only when he sliced his own lip and tasted his own blood. Xander stood with one shoulder to the wall, flinching.

"Whatever. Look, just finish this... unless you're scared of Cordelia." Xander looked up defiantly with gold eyes, and Angel closed the distance, slamming his own body into Xander. Angel heard as well as felt the dull cracking when a rib didn't stand up to the assault and Xander gasped an unnecessary breath. Angel pulled back and looked at Xander who continued to stand although now he leaned into the wall for support and wore his true face.

"Xander," Angel said, horrified at his own actions.

"Just get it over," Xander said as the demon features fell away and he dropped the side of his head to the wall tiredly. "Finish it." Xander's neck arched invitingly, and Angel stared at the smooth skin, the curve where neck and shoulder met, the cord of muscle that stretched just below the surface of the skin. And all the time, the boy stayed in human face. Angel remembered how William would sometimes have trouble staying in game face. He remembered how he had made fun of the demon for that, but now it just made Xander look sadder. Angel was caught between's his soul's guilt, and Angelus' disgust for something so weak.

"I don't want..." Angel stopped as he tried to express what he didn't want. He didn't want Xander Harris anywhere near him, dead or alive. He didn't want Xander Harris' dead body walking around to upset Buffy and make Cordy look at Angel with condemning eyes. He didn't want to think that one more person he had once vowed to protect was dead.

"You don't want to drain me to the edge of final death and chain me up and break my ribs? Little late, Deadboy." Xander's quiet, breathy, sarcastic words brought another stab of rage from Angelus, but Angel stopped it this time.

"You're trying to get me to kill you," he accused Xander who was now slowly sliding down the wall to the floor with little gasping whines of pain.

"Took ya long enough. I think you've been using too much hair gel lately--it's sunk into your brain."

Angel stepped forward and glared down at the huddled and broken Xander, his chained hands pulled up against his chest. This creature wasn't Xander, but it was all that was left of the white knight who had stood up to Angelus and in many ways was still standing up to Angelus. Angel pressed his eyes closed for a moment as he considered his options. His conscience vetoed killing Xander or even allowing the fledge to kill himself. Angel opened his eyes and looked as Xander trembled at his feet, and he realized obstacle number one was getting Xander to fight for life. Angel didn't think he could keep distracting Angelus if the fledge continued to try and trigger Angelus' rage.

"Are you sure that's what you want, to die? You want to turn to dust? You want to go back to hell where you belong?" Angel practically purred the words, his voice soft and evil. He bent down and put a hand on Xander's shoulder where the flesh was cold under his hand. Cold and trembling.

"Tell me you want to die, Xander," he murmured in a voice that could both soothe a raving Drusilla and drive terror into a mortal like a nail through flesh.

"Just fucking finish it," Xander snarled in a toneless and flat voice.

"Say it," Angel ordered softly. He could smell terror flowing from the miserable figure, and he wouldn't be smelling terror if this creature really wanted to die. He needed Xander to face the fact that he didn't want to die, and somewhere down in his mind Angelus scoffed at the idea of trying to help Xander.

"Why? So you can get your jollies off it? I hate to point it out, Deadboy, but I don't like you. I'm really not going to have my last act be something that makes you happy. Besides, a happy Deadboy is a psychotic Deadboy, and I don't want that on my..." Xander stopped, his words cut off in the middle of the sentence as though by a knife.

"On your what? Your conscience?" Angel watched Xander seem to sink in on himself as though he'd been caught doing something bad. He crouched down and looked at the miserable fledge huddled on his floor. "Oh what has Dru done this time?" Angel asked as he reached over to gather Xander up. Considering Xander's size, he was far too light. He needed a lot of blood.

"Pretty bad," Xander admitted with a shrug. Angel deposited the man in the middle of the bed and pulled a padlock out of his pocket. The dangling chain was long enough for him to give Xander plenty of slack, but Xander still scooted as close to the wall as he could get, sitting on the musty pillows.

"So, how long has it been since you truly fed?" Angel started again.

"I ate the couple whose car I stole coming down from Sunnydale. Ate the Harrises a few days ago." The emotionless words startled Angel. "Didn't really feel much like eating anyone else."

"Is that why you came here? Did you know something was wrong?" Angel backed away and crossed his arms as he tried to refrain from killing the sad creature on the bed.

"Spike mentioned something early on. Said I was worse than he'd been and that Angelus would have snapped my neck."

"I'm not Angelus," Angel pointed out. Angelus had almost completely withdrawn in frustration at having come so close to killing the boy only to be thwarted, and now Angel found he could think a little more clearly.

"Oh, come on, Deadboy. You always went a little Angelusy around Xander, and we both know it."

"I..." Angel stopped as he considered the past they had shared. "Maybe," he admitted. "The lap dance Buffy did with you and the whole 'Deadboy' thing aggravated me. I probably shouldn't have taken the name calling so seriously."

"It'd be nice if you had decided that before starting in on the rib breakage," Xander pointed out. "But I get the name thing. Cordy used to call me the Zeppo, and that pretty much still fuels my nightmares." Xander paused. "She used to call Xander the Zeppo of the group," he corrected himself.

"You don't think of yourself as Xander?" Angel asked as he moved to the other side of the room. Angelus stirred a little at the way Xander followed him, the way he shifted his body to face Angel, the sharp fear still leaking from him in wisps of scent.

"Had it pointed out many, many times that I'm not Xander."

"Buffy?" Angel asked, and Xander physically flinched.

"Among others. They all had their go."

"That's why they didn't try to give you a soul," Angel said as he imagined how the others would have reacted.

"Giles pointed out that giving a vampire a soul is a curse. Said that the real Xander earned his reward and his soul shouldn't be pulled back and magically connected to a demon. Said that Xander didn't deserve to have his soul tainted." Xander shrugged again as though it meant nothing to him.

"So you came looking for me," Angel said.

"Came looking to die, and I just figured you were the fastest form of death around considering that I'm afraid of fire, so the whole morning walk thing kinda freaked me out. After you sent Buffy the immolation-o-gram I wouldn't even go near a lighter for a month." Angel wondered if Xander even realized how he embraced his human memories one minute and rejected them the next. Whether Buffy understood it or not, a lot of Xander Harris was still in the suffering creature who sat on the bed in front of him, and Angel made a decision.

"While you're in my hotel, you will not hunt."

"Hard to hunt chained to a wall, and trust me, I'm not stupid enough to go for Cordy even as a vampire. I mean, I'm stupid, but I'm not that stupid." Angel turned and started for the door.

"Angel?" Xander's voice made him stop and turn back.

"What's wrong with me?" Xander asked in such a small, defeated voice, that Angelus stirred with a need to taunt and Angel just wanted to offer some words of solace even if they were empty. He compromised.

"I really don't know. When Dru makes a vampire she..." Angel struggled to explain the results of Dru's various attempts. "Normally the person influences the demon who takes over the body. When Dru turns someone, something of the actual person is left behind."

"You mean I'm still Xander?" Angel thought back to Dalton, how the vampire could never hunt after his turning. He would feed from others' victims. In life, he'd lived for his books, and in death he'd been the same. Angel remembered how Dalton had burned, his own humanity turned to flame at the touch of the Judge.

"I don't know," Angel said as he left the room and started down the hallway.



"Angel?" Wesley asked in a firmer tone than Angel usually heard from the former watcher. Ever since he had fed a large number of Wolfram and Hart lawyers to Dru and Darla, the others had spent more time edging around him, avoiding him. He had even considered kicking them out to keep them away from his growing madness, but Doyle had told him that his redemption would come from living among humans, and he wasn't ready to give up on that goal.

However, where Cordelia and Gunn and Lorne had grown more suspicious and cautious, Wesley was becoming more assertive. Normally Angel would support Wesley's new attitude, but his demon's aggravation and Xander's presence left him very little energy to deal with the man's new determination.

"Wesley," Angel replied in a non-committal tone as he got to the bottom step and passed the man on his way to the kitchen.

"Angel, I'm sure you understand the source of our concerns."

"Our?" Angel asked as he went through the doors to the service areas of the hotel with Wesley tagging close behind.

"Fine then. I'm sure you can understand the source of my concern. The Aurelius family ties still seem to exert some influence over you if the recent incident with Darla is anything to judge by."

"I set fire to Darla and Dru," Angel pointed out as he reached the refrigerator and opened the heavy steel doors.

"You didn't stake them," Wesley countered, and Angel really didn't have an answer for that, so he remained silent as he pulled out the two remaining bags of blood and emptied them into a pan.

"And now your behavior around Xander is rather alarming." Wesley continued despite the fact that Angel kept his back to the man and swirled the slowly warming blood. "You must admit that your attitude toward Xander is a little disturbing. I mean, Cordelia said that you actually attempted to drain him."

"Are you upset that I attacked him or upset that I haven't staked him yet?" Angel asked as he started swirling faster. From the moment of silence, Wesley didn't have an answer. The only sound was the bottom of the pan scraping over the metal burner as Angel warmed the blood.

"I just don't like how his presence is affecting your mood," Wesley finally offered, and Angel stopped a moment as he considered that. They had no idea how close he was edging toward insanity, so he doubted Xander affected his mood as much as he just made it harder to hide his feelings. Angelus sent up another flare of resentment at having to answer to humans, and Angel returned his concentration to the blood.

"I'm fine."

"I hate to echo Cordelia, but I do agree that you have a history of hiding your problems. For example, none of us knew you were frustrated enough to condone a mass slaughter."

"Wesley," Angel growled in frustration, and he could hear the man physically back up. However, while the Wesley of Sunnydale would have fled in fear, this Wesley held his ground. Or at least he did once he had about ten feet of space and a stainless steel counter between the two of them.

"Angel, Xander is weaker than the fledge that I had to fight while training to be a watcher. If you unchained him, would he even be strong enough to defend himself or hunt?" Wesley's voice dripped with condemnation, and Angel struck out verbally.

"You want him to hunt?" Angel asked as he switched the stove off and reached for a large mug.

"What? No, of course not. That's not my point."

"Then what is your point, Wesley?" Angel demanded. He also started asking himself why he hadn't just kicked his human employees out when he had first considered it. When he'd bought the hotel and evicted the resident demon, he hadn't told them about the place or his past with it. He'd tried to leave them with the office while he moved to the hotel, but it had taken them two days to find him, and then Cordelia had announced that it was foolish to pay rent on both places, and Angel had been forced to stand back while the privacy he had carefully set up had been chipped away one piece at a time as phones and mail delivery and e-mail invaded his new space. Now he couldn't move without tripping over a human with a point.

"My point is that your treatment of him is..." Wesley stopped as Angel brought the cup up to his lips and started drinking. "Good lord. I thought you were fixing that for..." Wesley stopped again, and Angel fought down the image of ripping out the watcher's tongue so that he would be speechless from now on. He could feel Angelus' glee at the thought of actually doing it.

"Wesley, just say it," Angel finally sighed when the man stood opening and closing his mouth several times.

"You bastard. Xander is up there starving if his colour and his general weakness is any indication, and you stand there and drink the rest of the blood."

"Cordelia is bringing more," Angel pointed out after he drained the last of the blood. Three steps took him to the sink where he rinsed out the pan and the mug.

"That is not the point," Wesley snapped, and Angel felt his demon rise as he stared back. He hadn't even realized that his eyes were changing until Wesley backed up again. "Hunting vampires is not the same as chaining them to the wall and making them suffer," Wesley insisted with a stubborn expression. Angel resisted an urge to snarl and instead just started back toward the front counter.

"Angel?" Wesley followed, and Angel considered just coming out and telling the man that he was acting like a sycophantic minion. Of course Angelus actually enjoyed Wesley's diffident attitude on most days, but today wasn't one of those days. Today Angelus wanted to go upstairs and either kill the cringing thing that had invaded his territory or at the very least dominate him into submission and enjoy the feeling of Xander's servile terror.

Once he reached the front, Angel pulled a ceramic pitcher from underneath the counter before grabbing some paper towels and wiping the inside.

"Angel? Are we going to discuss this?"

"No," Angel answered as he dropped the used paper towels in the garbage.

"So what exactly are your plans for Xander Harris?"

"That's really not your business, Wes."

"I am a part of Angel Investigation, and since this affects all of us, I think it is my business." Wesley's voice now had a faint threadiness to it that revealed his nervousness, but Angel was impressed that the man was actually sticking to his guns.

"This is clan business," Angel corrected him, cocking his head to listen to Cordy's stream of complaints as the young woman approached the front door. "And Cordelia is back."

"This isn't over," Wesley promised, but Angel ignored the man in order to meet Cordelia at the door. She backed her way into the lobby dragging a huge cooler along the ground.

"How much did you get?" Angel asked in shock as he looked at the huge cooler. Striding over, he grabbed the handle to pick it up, and quickly slipped his second arm under the bottom just in case the handle broke under the heavy weight.

"I told Ondary that you had a fledge here who was nearly your size but about a cup short of turning to dust."

"Vampires can't starve to death," Angel corrected her. "Their brains just rot from the lack of blood, and they go insane." After putting the cooler on the counter, Angel turned around to find both Cordelia and Wesley gazing at him in abject horror. "What?"

"Okay, mister. I just spend 20 minutes watching Ondary drain the blood fresh from a cow so it would have more punch, so you'd better start feeding Xander. He wasn't that many brains cells ahead of insane to start with, and if you drive him over the edge, I will make you sorry."

"I'm not planning on starving him," Angel said as he took a knife from his belt and cut his own wrist. He angled his arm so that a full cup of his own blood drained into the white ceramic pitcher. Angel licked his wound closed as he flipped open the plastic lid on the cooler. Inside quickly cooling blood lay in neat packets. He grabbed three of them and cut the tops, allowing the still-warm liquid to mix with his own blood.

"Can you take this up for him before it cools?" Angel asked as he handed Cordelia the near full pitcher of blood. He grabbed another packet and punctured it with the knife before drinking it straight from the plastic container.

"Maybe I'd better go with you," Wesley commented as he picked up a crossbow from his desk behind the counter. He followed Cordy as she started across the lobby, but from the glare he directed over his shoulder toward Angel, he wasn't ready to let the topic entirely drop.

"I'll store some of this and start heating the rest for Xander," Angel said as he picked up the cooler and headed for the back. He knew he was taking a risk trusting Xander when the fledge was so hungry, but he needed to know how far Xander's streak of humanity actually went. Besides, if someone had to turn the vampire to dust, Wesley had a better chance of surviving Cordy's anger than he did.

Angel ignored the taunts of cowardice from his own mind as he went in back to find a larger pan and another pitcher.

Pouring the now tepid blood into the pan, Angel admitted to himself that he almost hoped Xander would lose control and throw himself at the fresh blood. He started stacking the extra blood in the large refrigerator as he imagined the scene. Cordelia would scream and drop the blood, and the smell of that much fresh blood would distract Xander even if Cordy was within range of the chained fledge. Wesley might have the mannerisms of a geek, but he had a core of steel, and Angel knew the man wouldn't miss with the crossbow. The fledge wearing Xander Harris' face would drift down particle by particle, his ashes coating the bed and drifting into the spilled blood, and that would be the end. Then maybe things would get back to normal.

Angel found himself surprised by the jolt of anger he felt at the image. The boy had been an idiot on so many occasions that Angel couldn't even count them, but despite getting threatened, broken, strangled, beaten, caged, chained and generally terrorized, he had always gotten back up and jumped in the fight again.

Angel compared that to his own past. Darla had forced him to choose between his soul and his clan, and he'd spent the next hundred years slinking down alleys and trying to come up with the nerve to walk into the morning sun. The only reason he hadn't was his own Catholic upbringing and a fear of hell. Of course that fear had turned out to be thoroughly justified, and Xander had his part in that discovery too.

Angel took the warm blood from the pan and repeated the process of cutting his own wrist before he added the cow blood to the second pitcher. Angelus admired the boy's persistence and Angel had to admit that he envied how the boy had unerringly tried to do the right thing. But at the same time, Angelus hated the weakness Dru's childer so often suffered, and Angel resented the universe for sticking him with his least favorite citizen of Sunnydale. Now if this had happened to Willow... Angel stopped as his imagination provided an image of a vampire Willow spread out on black silk, and Angelus added his own touch with bloody fang wounds decorating her neck and thighs.

Angel tightened his hold on the pitcher as he crossed the lobby and started climbing the stairs. Maybe he really did need to get Wesley and Cordelia away from him. Every day he felt like he was sliding closer to the abyss where Angelus waited with that damn smug smile. Angel turned the corner to the hall that led to Xander's room. Wesley stood in the hallway, facing the far end and a good eight feet past the open door. Angel stepped closer, and he heard Xander.

Looking in the open door, Angel saw a strange tableau. The empty pitcher tilted precariously on the end table, the handle balanced awkwardly against the lamp. The dusty bedspread had been kicked to the floor at the foot of the bed, and Cordelia sat on the bed with Xander curled in her lap. His arms circled her waist as she bent over him with her small hands rubbing soothingly over broad shoulders. Xander's back heaved with sobs, and the fledge made distressed sounds somewhere between crying and growling.

Angel looked at the miserable figure and flashed to a memory of William curled in the corner hugging himself as Angelus had made the young fledge watch his own games with Drusilla. With every fall of the whip, Drusilla had screamed her pleasure, and William had given another sob. A wave of guilt washed over Angel as he once again faced the fact that he had driven William into becoming Spike. Every kill on Spike's impressive list was at Angelus' doorstep.

Stepping into the room, Angel did what he had never done for William. He started the purr low and soft, a sound to entice a lover or soothe a childe. Cordelia turned and looked at him with swollen red eyes, and Angel nodded slightly even as Xander scrambled away. Ignoring Xander's sudden fear, Angel continued purring as he moved toward the bed. He deposited his full pitcher next to the empty one which clattered down onto its side allowing a couple of drops of blood to drip onto the wood.

Angel held out a hand for Cordelia, helping her off the bed as he took Cordy's spot. At first Xander scooted as far away as he could as he struggled to stop his ragged breathing, but Angel continued his soothing purr as he touched Xander's shoulder. The skin was warmer now, the flesh firmer even though Xander still didn't have enough blood in him to give him any color. Angel pulled Xander toward him. At first the fledge resisted, but without warning, Xander surrendered and buried his face in Angel's thigh just as he had hidden in Cordelia's lap.

Angel soothed the crying fledge despite Angelus sneering at him in the back of his mind. Reaching down to rip his own wrist open with fangs, Angel offered Xander sire's blood fresh from the source.

"Drink," Angel said, and Xander didn't need a second invitation. Not only did Xander begin pulling at the wound, but he also sunk his own fangs deep into Angel's flesh, and Angel groaned at the feeling of having another feed from him.

 

 


 

Evening hadn't yet fallen when Angel woke with the dry smell of dust and the bitter smell of stale blood and the earthy scent of vampire assaulting him. For a moment he couldn't even figure out why he had a heavy weight anchoring his left side, but then he looked down at the curly, dark hair and pale flesh curled up against his own red shirt. Xander's fingers tangled with the fabric of his hem, and Angel reached down and slowly uncurled Xander's fingers. The fledge was tired and still recovering from the near starvation levels of blood Giles had provided and the emotion of facing his former friends.

Angel could feel Angelus' heavy anger at Giles' treatment of Xander, but he also knew that Giles didn't know how to care for a fledge. Spike could have told them they were starving Xander, but Angel doubted Spike wanted Xander around at all. Once Spike overcame of his own strangeness, he resented any reminders of his young life. And Xander certainly did remind Angel of the young William. His humanity was still draped around him, except in Xander's case even more so.

Angel brushed curls away from a face indistinguishable from the real Xander Harris. Drusilla had created her most human childe with this one. He had thought Dalton was the height of her madness, but Xander exceeded even that bookish vampire. He had cried about his parents even as he had snarled his fury with their neglectful care and their drinking. Angel could identify considering his own issues with his father.

Angel reconsidered that thought. His anger at his father had taken on demonic proportions, including killing not just his father but about half the village where they had lived. Angelus had killed Kathy, but at least his little sister had died quickly, and not all the people of his village had enjoyed that blessing. However, Xander's vengeance had been limited to the people who had actually hurt him in life. But then again, Xander had killed to get the car to come to L.A. He'd killed quietly and efficiently and without remorse. Angel considered Xander's beautiful, childlike face. He'd killed without a second thought, but he hadn't let his prey suffer, choosing instead to kill and drink from dead bodies. He was an enigma. And considering the emotional pain Xander had suffered at home, he was surprised that Xander's parents had earned a quick and quiet death.

Back in Sunnydale, Angel had once or twice thought it strange that Xander could be out half the night without anyone commenting. Buffy would have to sneak out or lie. Xander's parents never commented. He should have realized. If Angel had known how much Xander had suffered.... he thought about that for a moment. He probably wouldn't have done anything. While he knew how to deal with an insane slayer strangling the boy, he wouldn't have known what to do about a father who regularly introduced Xander as the poster child for abortion. From what he could tell from Xander's fragments of stories, Tony Harris had found the drunken joke amusing no matter how many times he told it.

It took several minutes of looking down at his newest childe before Angel realized he didn't feel Angelus threatening to strip his sanity. Angelus certainly sent up suggestions about the best way to remind a childe of his place, but as long as Xander was willing to submit, he was willing to live without the more sadistic games. Angelus had enjoyed William's loyalty and submission just as much as he had enjoyed William's pain and humiliation, so having even part of that joy back had quieted the demon's complaints.

Well, it had quieted most of the demon's complaints. Xander had fed heavily, and Angel could feel hunger twisting his guts. He slowly slid out of the bed without waking Xander who clearly needed more sleep. Angel picked up both empty pitchers now crusted with dried blood before heading out the door.

Angel's demon growled its hunger as he headed toward the kitchen despite having consumed the entire pitcher of blood he had brought up for Xander. He hadn't had so much blood since... since Sunnydale and the whole reign of terror. However, back then, he hadn't been trying to feed a starving fledge back to health. He needed blood.

"So, does this make you his sire?" an English voice asked from behind him on the stair, and Angel just continued to descend. "The watcher's diaries are rather vague on the exact nature of siring a fledge; in fact, the relationships between you, Dru, and Spike have spawned dozens of papers on the subject. When Spike publicly claimed you as sire in Sunnydale, there were quite a few teachers at the watcher academy with egg on their faces.

Angel really had no interest in what the watchers thought or who was caught off guard by Spike's comment. Drusilla had made Spike, but he was Spike's sire. He'd taught the boy to hunt. He had raped and fed beside William. The two of them had fought countless battles side by side, and he had to admit that a small part of him missed that. However, he didn't think either Wesley or Cordelia would sleep any better for knowing how much he missed certain parts of his past. So he didn't give any answer at all.
"So, what exactly is his place in the organization?" Wesley just kept talking and following until Angel had to push down the demon's frustration. "I mean, is he going to be going out on calls with you? Might I show up one night and find him minding the phones? Is he to be trusted and given full access to the hotel or will he be spending his free time chained to the wall in his room?"

"Enough, Wesley."

"No, quite frankly, it's not enough. You have been acting on impulses that the rest of us cannot even understand and you refuse to explain yourself or even give us any reason to trust that you still have full control of your faculties. I am reasonable in asking what exactly you mean to do with Xander."

"I vote stake him," a deep voice said from the doorway, and Angel felt Angelus rise up in fury at the suggestion. Angelus might maim or even kill his underlings, but no one else had a right to suggest the same. Gunn's off-handed remark had stirred Angelus back into motion. The moment of quiet sanity he'd enjoyed since waking up ended, and again the demon stalked his mind seeking any crack that would allow his rage to escape.

"You won't touch him," Angel curtly ordered as he continued toward the kitchen. If he had to deal with Wes in an aggressive mood and Gunn in a staking mood, he definitely needed blood. Maybe Gunn recognized the danger because he followed silently until Angel had heated his mug.

"So, I take it he's your homeboy now." Gunn leaned against a counter and watched with sharp eyes. Angel also didn't miss the way Gunn's hand stayed near the waistband of his jeans. Angel felt both his own frustration at having to constantly prove himself and Angelus' cold rage at a human who had the nerve to issue such a challenge.

"I'm not evil, Gunn."

"Really? 'Cause I heard you spent the night sleeping with the monster you got chained upstairs." Gunn's words made Wesley flush, and Angel didn't have to ask where Gunn had gotten his information.

"He needed to talk. Vampires aren't by nature solitary, and he needed to have someone there. I didn't do anything that would make Wes blush, and I didn't lose my soul." Angel glared at both men, and he could feel Angelus' swirling rage making suggestions about more effective ways of making them go away.

"Funny enough, it's getting harder to tell since the lawyer buffet," Gunn shot back. "So what's the deal with the dead Zeppo?"

"Don't call him that," Angel snapped before he could fully regain control of his temper, and Wesley's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. However, Wesley's voice was clear and calm despite the rising smell of salt-sweetened panic.

"Since I know that you had very little patience for Xander while he was in Sunnydale, I'm assuming that last night changed things between you," Wesley observed quietly, and Angel sighed in frustration. He didn't want to have this discussion with these two men, especially since what he was feeling right now had nothing to do with his redemption. What he was feeling had to do with his vampire nature: the need to feel his childe submit, the need to feel his childe feed, the need to make his childe beg. Angel pushed those thoughts aside and tried to find an explanation that wouldn't horrify either these two men or Angel himself. He wasn't Angelus and he wouldn't allow Angelus' needs to control his life.

"He's helpless. He may not have a soul, but his turning didn't go right, and he isn't a mindless killer."

"Didn't go right?" Wesley stepped forward in curiosity, and Angel was caught between not wanting to have this discussion and being grateful that Wesley's attention was off his own relationship with Xander.

"Dru's childer are sometimes more human than they should be." Angel froze when he realized his mistake. He thought about explaining that he wasn't suggesting that mindless and vicious killing was right, but instead he remained silent and hoped they missed the implication of that 'should be'. He could hear Angelus' quiet laugh echoing in the corners of his mind, and Gunn's sideways glance suggested that he had caught the slip. However, Wesley seemed too distracted to notice it.

"How exactly do you turn a vampire 'wrong'?" he asked.

"I have no idea," Angel admitted in a tired voice. "I would sometimes watch while she turned a minion, but when I was watching, she would create normal vampires. But if I wasn't watching her..." Angel thought again of Dalton who was so human Darla wanted to snap his neck. Only Drusilla's whispers of stars and prophesies had kept the vampire unalive. "She sometimes created vampires who still retained their humanity," Angel finally concluded.

"You mean they kept their souls?" Gunn demanded sharply.

"No." Angel quickly added. "They didn't care about right or wrong in general, but they cared about whatever they cared about in life." For some reason, Angel didn't want to share the pieces of Xander he'd learned while soothing the crying fledge. Even Angelus had taken those shared pieces of Xander's pain as an offering. The demon didn't feel sorry for Xander, but he took Xander's willingness to endure and share the agony as a childe's submission to his sire. However, Angel wasn't sure how else to explain how Dru's childer differed from a typical vampire.

"Xander killed his parents because they had abused him. He doesn't feel guilty about killing them, but he still cried because now that they're dead, they won't ever apologize to him or try and make up for what they did. He didn't torture them because some part of him still saw them as his parents. Xander won't kill his friends from Sunnydale. He had a chance to kill Giles and even though he was hungry, he didn't." Angel could see Gunn's suspicions as clearly as if they were written in bold block letters on his head. Wes just seemed slightly bewildered. Angel couldn't blame the man since he'd felt pretty much the same way the first time he'd met Dalton.

Angel thought out how to explain the rest. He couldn't in good conscience allow his people to trust Xander or think of Xander as human. "However, he doesn't have a soul. So Cordy is safe around him because the human Xander cared about her. He might leave you two alone because killing you would hurt Cordy. However, he doesn't have the same idea of right and wrong, so if he's hungry, he'll kill a stranger on the street and not feel any remorse at all."

Angel watched as Gunn's body relaxed somewhat. Strange, Gunn was more comfortable now that Angel had admitted Xander was still a cold-blooded killer. On the other hand, Wes looked shocked and confused.

"But if he is capable of caring for humans, how can he just kill?"

"He's capable of caring for individuals… he doesn't feel any responsibility towards humans in general. Wes, he's not human."

"There is nothing in the Watcher's Diaries that…." Wesley's words were cut off by Angel's angry growl.

"And there won't be. Xander is not a test subject, and if watcher mercenaries show up here to drag him off, they won't survive the attack." Angel slammed his empty mug down on the counter. Immediately he focused all his attention inward as he struggled to force Angelus back. His demon finally had something that would make a demon happy: a childe who turned to him for life and death; a childe who writhed in pain and showed all that pain to his sire; a childe who clung to him in need while still being a dangerous killer. It was like having William back again, and Angelus had enjoyed his boy more than he had ever let on.

"Angel?" Wes asked in a sharp, high voice.

"Just… just don't put me in that position, Wes. He's helpless and chained and afraid, and I won't let him be turned into a guinea pig."

"The way the government turned Bleached Wonder Boy into an experiment?" Gunn demanded, his hand once more suspiciously close to the back of his pants. Angel slipped into his expressionless mask as he tried to process Angelus' rage fast enough to avoid saying something stupid.

"William, the human part of Spike, is gone. What he does with his life or what other people do to him isn't my concern," Angel lied. "However, Xander still has much of his humanity, so much so that he can't defend himself the way a normal vampire could. I won't let some sadists take him."

"Right. Considering my own exile from the Council came with some angry words, I doubt they truly want to hear any of my observations anyway." Wesley turned and started walking out of the kitchen. Angel could smell the near terror levels of fear coming from Wes after his own declaration that he would kill to defend Xander, but the man walked slowly and steadily, never looking back.

"Yeah, just keep that undead thing away from me," Gunn added as he followed Wesley although he managed to take a more winding path that allowed him to keep an eye on Angel most of the way to the door. Angel sighed and washed out his mug before putting it on the counter to dry. He reconsidered his earlier idea about getting his humans as far away as he could. Ever since Darla had started sending him dreams, he was finding it harder and harder to hold back on his instincts. She had stirred the demon, and he didn't want to spend the next hundred years lurking back alleys as he tried to get Angelus to give up on the struggle for control.

Angelus snarled angrily at the thought of those years of despair, and Angel wondered whether he was going to have a choice. Maybe he just needed to leave. Of course leaving would mean leaving Xander since his very presence made Angelus stir, but Cordy would take care of him. He'd protect her, and if she asked him to not kill, he wouldn't. Or at least he wouldn't kill openly or anywhere that Cordy would find out. And his redemption was truly slipping away with that thought.

Angel walked out into the lobby and considered his plan. He needed to find a place as far away from humans as possible. Maybe he could work on his redemption later when he'd gotten control back from Angelus. The lobby was empty, and Angel allowed his thoughts to drift to Buffy. He ached with a need to be with her, but with Angelus so near the surface, he didn't even trust himself to call her on the phone and tell her he was leaving. Maybe he could send her a letter.

A commotion at the door caught his attention, and Angel strode across the lobby, anxious to take care of it so that he could act on his newly formed plan. Opening the door, he could see Gunn struggling with two men as a few dying rays of the sun scattered light across the courtyard. The two men were huge and one had Gunn's arms jerked up behind his back.

Ignoring the random patches of fading light, Angel rushed out and grabbed the second man who had poised his arm to punch Gunn again. Using more of his vampire strength than he intended, Angel ripped the man away from Gunn and tossed him across the courtyard. Angel reached out to pull Gunn away from the second man when he felt a bolt of heat and a sharp stabbing pain rip through his back. Angel fell to his knees with a howl.

He distantly realized Gunn was fighting to get to him, and he pushed himself back up to his feet, game face showing. Turning around, he found himself confronted by a dozen men in suits. Angel snarled and reached out toward one and a second burning pain hit him, this time in the thigh. Angel's leg collapsed at the electricity of the tazer ran through his muscle.

Reaching down to pull the tazer wires out, Angel felt a third and fourth strikes, one in his arm, and the second in his chest. Unable to fight off the pain or reclaim control of his trembling muscles, Angel sank down into the darkness of unconsciousness.


On to Part II

 

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