Don't Let The Bed Bugs Bite by Christie Baird

Summary: These are the consequences of a bad choice made by Wesley in a moment of fear...

Spoilers: Sleep Tight, Season Three.

Notes: To all the people who give me feedback - you guys rock!!!

With a heavy heart he walked towards the hotel. He imagined, that Angel would already be out, searching for his son. He imagined that Cordelia would be right alongside him, searching for the child she loved like her own. He imagined Gunn and Fred, eyes meeting across a counter - a sad look shared between lovers and then passed on, because betrayal surely was the most bittersweet of all emotions.

The first thought that popped into Gunn's head when he saw her - was that that Skip guy was full of crap. But realisation soon dawned onto a heavy heart and he knew. Her body wasn't thrashing around because the painful, powerful visions had returned. It was because she could see...

He could remember her comment from so long ago, "I'm Vision Girl, it's what I do." And right now? He wished she didn't have to. Because Cordelia could see...

* * *

Earlier

Her eyes red, she walked down the stairs. Zombie-walked would have been a more useful term in this case, for both Fred and Gunn were both sure they'd never seen the slump in her shoulders that had appeared over the past few hours. "Cordy?"

I'd know, wouldn't I? We'd know. Angel would know if he was gone. Thought the brunette, numbly. Locked inside her own mind, Cordelia's senses were attacked with his smell... His baby smell. Sometimes, she'd hug him, pressing her nose to his soft cottony clothes, just to smell that baby smell. Connor. He smelled of Connor - which of course, made sense, since he *was* Connor. But what if he's not anymore? She wondered, What if Connor's gone? He was... Angel's redemption... And mine. If he's gone...

"Cordy?" Fred's voice was choked. "How's Angel?"

"Upstairs."

She wasn't listening, though who could blame her? They all felt the same...

In his hand, he still held the penguin. He remembered Connor, how every time he saw the stuffed animal, he'd giggle... Or spit some of his food out at first, which Cordelia had stated (after admitting that it didn't *really* matter about her shirts) was a way of showing his affection for his Aunty Cordy.

His own self doubt screamed that it was his own fault. His own fault for daring to believe... For daring to believe that through Connor and Cordelia, he was repaying his debt, earning his redemption. His own self-worth was hanging in the balance, for surely this was the cruelest of all fates, to dangle a second chance just within his reach and then take it away again. His own tears slid down his own cheeks and his own heart that wasn't beating struggled to encompass the emotions he felt. He didn't have a heart. Should he feel pain? He didn't have a heart. Should he experience loss?

He was already dead. Should he feel like he was dying?

Lilah Morgan's Office

"So, it's been done then? Holtz has the child?" Asked Lilah, smiling at her informant.

"Wrong..."

Arching an eyebrow, Lilah frowned, "What does that mean?"

"Holtz *had* the child..." He smiled, "Angel's getting little reminders... Or updates on his sons situation or lack thereof if you like."

Lilah smiled once again. "Good. I just love a happy ending..."

* * *

For the first time in her life, Cordelia actually wished for the pain that used to accompany the visions. She felt certain it would be better than the pain she felt right now. She was still half-demon. The visions weren't killing her, didn't even hurt... But inside... Everything crumbled the minute she saw his face...

Her body flailed, mid-air, and Cordelia reached out for him - the child she loved like a son, reduced to a fugue state... She couldn't speak, couldn't cry out... Could only hold out her hand, knowing he couldn't take it. Squeezing her eyes shut, Cordelia shook her head, trying to make it stop... Make the pain inside go away... But she could only watch. Take my hand... Please! Let me help him! Don't show me this without letting me help!!!

She couldn't do anything. And yet she'd give everything for him to reach up and grab her finger with his tiny fist, squeeze it and then try to jam it into his mouth... Like he used to...

When the vision ended, Cordelia sank to the floor, reaching for the desk to steady herself. She shook her head, for she couldn't speak... Tried to thrash out the pictures that just wouldn't fade... His little hand reaching out for hers... So close, she could almost touch it...

"No... Oh God... No..." She whispered, "He was just a baby..." Tears flooded her eyes and Cordelia shook her head, "It didn't... He didn't!" The word 'no' ripped from her lips again, this time a scream that echoed throughout the hotel and Cordelia sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs, hugging them to her chest... "I couldn't reach him... I couldn't reach him..." She sobbed. "I tried but... I couldn't reach him..."

They'd known. Gunn and Fred had known while her body was reacting with a mothers instinct to what she saw, but it didn't soften the blow.

And upstairs, Angel had known as soon as her scream had echoed upstairs into his heart. Hollow, empty... Not beating. It hurts. He looked down at the stuffed animal, remembering his sister... The thing she used to say before she drifted off to sleep at night, "Sleep tight, Liam... Don't let the bed bugs bite."

*Don't let the bed bugs bite.* Just like he'd promised to keep his sister safe, Angel had failed. He'd killed his sister, his parents... His son. His beautiful sun - the light of his life. Somehow, he managed to get up out of his chair and walk to his sons crib. Managed to pick up a romper suit and press it to his face... And somehow, the walls that he'd created came tumbling down. He'd failed and in doing so, had lost the one thing in his life that meant everything... The one thing that showed him who he really was... With his son, he could be human... With his son, he felt like any normal human father. With his son, he could simply be.

Not a vampire, nor a demon. When Connor looked up at him, he saw trust in his eyes. When he gripped his finger in his tiny hand, Angel felt love. Not sorrow, betrayal, heartache or pain. Love. Unconditional love.

He knew then that he'd asked too much of the world. He'd asked too much of the world to bestow an honour such as this upon him. A child, unconditional love, a family. He'd asked too much... He'd ruined too much over the course of 200 years to expect a thing in return... Especially something Connor had brought.

He deserved this. He'd done this. A barrage of emotions coursed through his body... Betrayal, heartache, despair... But none so bitter as the sense of loss, the sense of loss through the eyes of a redeemed vampire. Redeemed. Redemption. Happiness. Experience perfect happiness and you lose your soul. He'd experienced happiness with his son... And he'd lost his life. His son.

He'd lost

Betrayal. In a moment of panic he'd betrayed his friends. He'd betrayed Angel. Cordelia. Connor. And in a moment of sheer panic, he'd lost the one thing that signified to Angel that he truly was redeeming himself of sins he didn't commit. His son. It didn't matter how it had happened, only that it simply had. It didn't matter that he'd been overpowered. What mattered was that in a moment of making a decision, Wesley Wyndham Price had changed their lives forever and he wasn't sure anything could make it right again...

* * * * *

Angel frowned. How could he hope to track his son when he was worried about her? "Why don't you go back to the hotel?" He asked, wearily.

"Because." Said Cordelia simply, her hands clutched around a small axe. As sewers went, this was dark, stinky and horrible - like most. But she didn't care. Over the past few days she'd watched Wesley become increasingly nervous around Angel until finally all was revealed and then things had gone up in the air. Fred had suggested that perhaps Wesley had taken Connor for a walk - but they all knew the truth. Wesley had acted rashly, out of panic and fear for his friend and the child he'd looked upon as a nephew.

"Cordelia, I can't protect you."

"Who says I need protecting?" She bit back, "Angel, I'm staying, whether you like it or not..."

Growling, he turned on her, "This isn't some damned game... This is my *son*..."

Cordelia glared at him, "But it isn't..."

Angel was puzzled, "What?" He asked, glaring at her, "Cordelia, I don't have time to play these games with..."

"You think I'm playing games? Well, newsflash, I'm not. For the past few months, all we've done is play games and I'm tired of it. Connor isn't just your son, Angel. He's mine too! For months, you've let me hold him like he's mine, you've let me stay with him and he's as much mine as he is yours! I won't let you shut me out on this one."

Angel shook his head and turned away, he couldn't do this right now. He couldn't deal with feelings like this and...

She stepped forward, placing her hand on his arm, "Angel, I..."

"Get off me." He said, quietly.

"I'm only trying to he-"

"I said get OFF me." He shrugged her arm off him, but ended up his elbow flying up and connecting with her cheek. She stumbled backwards into the wall of the sewer, her head ringing with the force of the blow.

"Cor - "

"Don't." She said quietly, turning back round, a red, angry welt adorning her face. "Look, you mightn't want me around but that's too bad, because I'm here..."

"I don't need your help." He said, broodily.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not helping YOU." She frowned, "I'm doing this for him, okay?"

"I'm sorry." He whispered, "I don't know what's happening to me... I don't know what I'm doing..." Her heartbeat was racing through his ears...

Sighing, she shook her head, "It's alright." She whispered, "Just... Let's find him, okay?"

Angel sighed, "We should go back to the hotel... There's nothing here. Wesley hasn't been here with him."

Cordelia nodded."

* * * * *

"I can't believe this... I mean, no Connor babbling, just sounds real strange in here, y'know?" Asked Fred, looking round the seemingly bleak hotel. "Even Pylea seemed better than this..."

Gunn raised his eyebrow and looked at her, "You mean that?"

"No. I'm just being depressing, dorky Fred..."

"Dorky? Nahh..." Gunn leaned over and kissed her forehead, gently, "Angel and Cordy are gonna find Wes and Connor and bring 'em home... Or... Not." When he looked up, Wesley stood at the top of the steps looking down on his friends.

"Wes, where've you be - " His sentence stopped, noticing the look on Wesley's face, the sheer lack of babe in arms. "Connor." He said quietly.

"Where's Angel?" Asked the former Watcher.

"He's out lookin' for you... You... I mean, you just left... With the baby... Where is he?" Asked Fred, "Outside, in his stroller? No, 'cause you didn't take his stroller..."

Wesley sighed. "No, Fred, I..."

"You lost him..." Said Gunn.

"Not exactly."

"Then maybe you should explain..." Said Angel, coming down the steps and glaring at the british man before him. "Maybe you should explain where the hell my child is before I get really ratty..."

"Angel..." Said Cordelia, softly, "This isn't going to help."

"No, but it's a good start..."

Wesley sighed, "Angel, you have to understand that I did what I thought was best because..."

"The more time you waste the worse this gets for my son." Growled Angel, "Where did you lose him?"

"Uh... Excuse me?" A voice from the doorway interrupted the small gathering and a delivery guy stepped down into the lobby. Man, I hate this job He thought, sighing. "I got a package for a Mr. uhhh... Angel?"

"That's me." Going up the steps, Angel signed for the package, practically bustling the guy out the door with a twenty dollar tip.

"I like presents..." Said Fred, trying to be optimistic, trying not to think the worst...

Angel, in silence, opened the box, his friends watching.

Only when Angel's shoulders sagged where he stood did Cordelia go over. In his hand, he clutched a baby's bottle... Connor's. Filled with thick, red liquid... Warm...

"A-Angel..." She whispered.

An anguished sob escaped from his lips and Angel fell to his knees, the note falling to the floor. 

Now you know how it feels, Angelus. You'll be finding his body parts for weeks

Cordelia sobbed, fell to her knees next to him, wrapping her arms around him, trying desperately to help but not knowing how, tears streaming down her face....

Fred cried, her arms wrapped around Gunn.

And one thought popped into Wesley's head, What have I done?

He knew. At first, after the initial sobbing period was over, Angel had refused to believe. Had got up from his position from the floor and had stumbled, almost fell, over to the place where the child's bottle lay. Wrenching off the cap, he'd known. He didn't need to press it to his lips, like his cravings screamed he should. He didn't need to waft it near his nose. For the stench of blood had never been so overpowering, the stench of his own SON'S blood had never filled his senses so much as it had in that moment.

Betrayal, fear... Hope. A false sense of security that perhaps his child, his lifeline, his redemption wasn't dead.

"You took him..." Angel's head snapped up at the angry little voice. Fred. "You took him!" She said again, "You took him away!"

Wesley paled, "I did what I thought was..."

"You finish that sentence and I'll kill you myself..." Said Gunn, glaring at Wesley. "How could you, man?"

"I didn't mean for it to - "

<SQUEAK>

Their heads turned. Angel stood, in his hand he held Connor's toy. One of his favourites, a squeaky, entirely girlie penguin bought for him by Cordelia.

Cordelia bit her lip, tears streaming down her face and stepped towards him, to offer him comfort, anything - but Angel pulled away. "I... He's... I'll be upstairs." He whispered. Slowly, he turned and trudged up the stairs, his feet dragging on the floor.

"Angel, please..." Called Wesley, "Say something... God, hit me if it'll..." Angel was gone.

"Wesley," Started Cordelia.

"Cordelia, there's nothing you can say that I don't already feel." He said quietly.

"I think you're wrong." She whispered, "I don't hate you. I know why you did it, I know your reasons and your motives... But I'll never understand. Ever."

"I'm sorry..." He said quietly, "I'm so, so sorry."

"Wes... Man, maybe it's best that you go... I'm thinking if Angel comes down here later on he's gonna..."

Wesley nodded. "I know..." He said quietly, his shoulders slumped forward. "Tell him I..." He shook his head, "Never mind."

Slowly, he walked up the steps and back out into the night. The stars glittered in the sky, taunting him, bright... Where everything in his world was bleak, he could only imagine what Angel's was like right now...

* * * * *

Sitting there, years later in the Nursery, Angel didn't think he'd ever forget that feeling. Didn't think he'd ever forget that feeling of opening the box sent to him, a child's hand placed inside along with a note,

Yet another one you couldn't save? Hurts, doesn't it, Angelus?

 He closed his eyes, battling tears. He'd fought for that child... He'd fought for what it represented. Fought simply because he had to. Because it didn't deserve to die.

He'd kept it safe... Entrusted it with people who should have been able to look after it. People who'd promised that they'd love and take care of it no matter what. But it turned out that back in the early 1900's credentials weren't often checked. Darla had been able to walk into that orphanage and take the child - stating that she could offer it a better life. Only, she couldn't and when they'd realised she couldn't Darla had killed them, taking the child and killing it after Angel had stopped her the first time. In sending Angel the child's hand it was a way for her to say that she was still around and could still do as she pleased and that message had NEVER been clearer.

Now, he'd failed his own son - after promising that he'd never let his own son down, never let him go without, Angel had failed him. He wondered what Holtz would send next in one of his little packages - for he knew it was Holtz. The note, simple, spoke volumes. From the door he could hear her heart beating erratically in her chest, "Come in..." He said gently.

She shook her head, and though he couldn't see her, he understand what she was doing. "I won't hurt you, Cordelia." He whispered, his voice devoid of all emotion.

"It's not that..." Her voice cracked and Cordelia slumped against the doorframe, "Why?" She whispered. "He was just a baby... An innocent baby..."

Mustering all his strength, Angel stood and went towards the door, sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around his Seer's waist. "I failed him..." He whispered. "I should've... I could've... What if I'd..."

* * * * * *

Much the same thoughts were running through Wesley's head at that moment. What if I'd never taken him? What if Holtz hadn't caught up with me? What if I wasn't such a coward? I did what I thought was best and in a moment of weakness, I killed every piece of hope that Angel has…

He sat in his apartment, a whiskey glass clutched in his hand, his knuckles white. When the glass shattered under his staunch grip, he didn't notice. Didn't notice the glass cutting into his hand. Many times he'd reached for the phone, to apologise, to ask if anything more had been found but... What could he say? He'd fought valiantly against Holtz and his charge, but to no avail. He hadn't even wounded Holtz, mortally or otherwise.

He could hear his father's voice at the back of his head, "You're weak. You're nothing. Not good enough for the Watcher's Council, not good enough for a vampire."

He thought of Cordy, the look on her face, those softly spoken words. Of Fred, the silent tears running down her cheeks. Of Gunn, that look on his face of betrayal and Angel... He hadn't really said anything (Although he didn't expect him to) but silence Wesley wasn't able to cope with. Violence would have perhaps been better than him... Anything other than the unspoken question from them all.

Why?

How could he answer? Because I'm weak? Because I panicked? No, Wesley couldn't answer at all... He was a coward... Hiding in his apartment behind a bottle of malt whiskey. In what he thought was protecting a child, he'd ended up killing him...

Wesley had not only failed himself, but his friends and an innocent child. There was nothing so bitter as the taste of defeat... Angel had lost and somewhere along the line another would be rejoicing in their wake...

They had a name. Wolfram and Hart.

The first thought that popped into Gunn's head when he saw her - was that that Skip guy was full of crap. But realisation soon dawned onto a heavy heart and he knew. Her body wasn't thrashing around because the painful, powerful visions had returned. It was because she could see...

He could remember her comment from so long ago, "I'm Vision Girl, it's what I do." And right now? He wished she didn't have to. Because Cordelia could see...

* * *

Earlier

Her eyes red, she walked down the stairs. Zombie-walked would have been a more useful term in this case, for both Fred and Gunn were both sure they'd never seen the slump in her shoulders that had appeared over the past few hours. "Cordy?"

I'd know, wouldn't I? We'd know. Angel would know if he was gone. Thought the brunette, numbly. Locked inside her own mind, Cordelia's senses were attacked with his smell... His baby smell. Sometimes, she'd hug him, pressing her nose to his soft cottony clothes, just to smell that baby smell. Connor. He smelled of Connor - which of course, made sense, since he *was* Connor. But what if he's not anymore? She wondered, What if Connor's gone? He was... Angel's redemption... And mine. If he's gone...

"Cordy?" Fred's voice was choked. "How's Angel?"

"Upstairs."

She wasn't listening, though who could blame her? They all felt the same...

In his hand, he still held the penguin. He remembered Connor, how every time he saw the stuffed animal, he'd giggle... Or spit some of his food out at first, which Cordelia had stated (after admitting that it didn't *really* matter about her shirts) was a way of showing his affection for his Aunty Cordy.

His own self doubt screamed that it was his own fault. His own fault for daring to believe... For daring to believe that through Connor and Cordelia, he was repaying his debt, earning his redemption. His own self-worth was hanging in the balance, for surely this was the cruelest of all fates, to dangle a second chance just within his reach and then take it away again. His own tears slid down his own cheeks and his own heart that wasn't beating struggled to encompass the emotions he felt. He didn't have a heart. Should he feel pain? He didn't have a heart. Should he experience loss?

He was already dead. Should he feel like he was dying?

Lilah Morgan's Office

"So, it's been done then? Holtz has the child?" Asked Lilah, smiling at her informant.

"Wrong..."

Arching an eyebrow, Lilah frowned, "What does that mean?"

"Holtz *had* the child..." He smiled, "Angel's getting little reminders... Or updates on his sons situation or lack thereof if you like."

Lilah smiled once again. "Good. I just love a happy ending..."

* * *

For the first time in her life, Cordelia actually wished for the pain that used to accompany the visions. She felt certain it would be better than the pain she felt right now. She was still half-demon. The visions weren't killing her, didn't even hurt... But inside... Everything crumbled the minute she saw his face...

Her body flailed, mid-air, and Cordelia reached out for him - the child she loved like a son, reduced to a fugue state... She couldn't speak, couldn't cry out... Could only hold out her hand, knowing he couldn't take it. Squeezing her eyes shut, Cordelia shook her head, trying to make it stop... Make the pain inside go away... But she could only watch. Take my hand... Please! Let me help him! Don't show me this without letting me help!!!

She couldn't do anything. And yet she'd give everything for him to reach up and grab her finger with his tiny fist, squeeze it and then try to jam it into his mouth... Like he used to...

When the vision ended, Cordelia sank to the floor, reaching for the desk to steady herself. She shook her head, for she couldn't speak... Tried to thrash out the pictures that just wouldn't fade... His little hand reaching out for hers... So close, she could almost touch it...

"No... Oh God... No..." She whispered, "He was just a baby..." Tears flooded her eyes and Cordelia shook her head, "It didn't... He didn't!" The word 'no' ripped from her lips again, this time a scream that echoed throughout the hotel and Cordelia sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs, hugging them to her chest... "I couldn't reach him... I couldn't reach him..." She sobbed. "I tried but... I couldn't reach him..."

They'd known. Gunn and Fred had known while her body was reacting with a mothers instinct to what she saw, but it didn't soften the blow.

And upstairs, Angel had known as soon as her scream had echoed upstairs into his heart. Hollow, empty... Not beating. It hurts. He looked down at the stuffed animal, remembering his sister... The thing she used to say before she drifted off to sleep at night, "Sleep tight, Liam... Don't let the bed bugs bite."

*Don't let the bed bugs bite.* Just like he'd promised to keep his sister safe, Angel had failed. He'd killed his sister, his parents... His son. His beautiful sun - the light of his life. Somehow, he managed to get up out of his chair and walk to his sons crib. Managed to pick up a romper suit and press it to his face... And somehow, the walls that he'd created came tumbling down. He'd failed and in doing so, had lost the one thing in his life that meant everything... The one thing that showed him who he really was... With his son, he could be human... With his son, he felt like any normal human father. With his son, he could simply be.

Not a vampire, nor a demon. When Connor looked up at him, he saw trust in his eyes. When he gripped his finger in his tiny hand, Angel felt love. Not sorrow, betrayal, heartache or pain. Love. Unconditional love.

He knew then that he'd asked too much of the world. He'd asked too much of the world to bestow an honour such as this upon him. A child, unconditional love, a family. He'd asked too much... He'd ruined too much over the course of 200 years to expect a thing in return... Especially something Connor had brought.

He deserved this. He'd done this. A barrage of emotions coursed through his body... Betrayal, heartache, despair... But none so bitter as the sense of loss, the sense of loss through the eyes of a redeemed vampire. Redeemed. Redemption. Happiness. Experience perfect happiness and you lose your soul. He'd experienced happiness with his son... And he'd lost his life. His son.

He'd lost.

To his credit, he tried. To his credit, he went out and sacrificed himself for a child he loved so much. The child, however, was already gone. But a memory in hearts of those who mourned the loss, laughter in hearts who wished to see Angel taken down - the child was already where he belonged, waiting for his father in Heaven. A tear in the eye of his mother, he'd never be forgotten about. And neither would the sacrifice by the man who loved him be forgotten, by any of them. For they still mourned him, even after what had happened. Sitting in the Nursery, tears dripping from her cheeks, Cordelia Chase mourned him.

She'd loved him.

Loved him like she should. Like she should.

Sitting in the lobby - Fred and Gunn mourned him. Mourned the loss of a child, the loss of a friend. The loss of a saviour. They mourned.

A Week Earlier

The vision hadn't hurt. It hadn't. What had hurt was seeing her child being... Murdered. Taken out of their lives, brutally... And unable to stop it. That was what had hurt. Seeing his little hand outstretched, trusting to his murderer. His cold-blooded murderer. Holtz. What he'd done - he'd done in a moment of being locked in his past. Angelus. He'd done it to avenge what Angelus had done. And he'd ended up destroying everything.

Slowly, Cordelia climbed the stairs to see Angel, standing at the cot, his face buried in one of Connor's baby suits. "Angel?" She whispered.

"You know." He said quietly, his voice muffled. "You know. Did someone call? Did they send something... Else?" He prayed that they hadn't. He prayed that his son was still alive but when Cordelia spoke, Angel felt every bit of hope ebb away.

"Not exactly..." She whispered. Cordelia was trying. She was trying to hold it together. But in the end, it wasn't enough. In the end, when Angel turned she was sagged against the door frame, her head rested against the wood. Slowly, he crossed the room, placing a hand on her shoulder and turning her towards him, almost afraid to look in her eyes for fear of what he'd see.

"Cordelia?"

Tell me he's fine. Tell me he's downstairs. Thought Angel - but in the end, that was what had got him where he was right now. Daring to dream. Daring to think that perhaps... That maybe, just maybe... He could love. He could live. He could be happy. He'd dared to dream and he'd damned himself and his friends to a lifetime of missing a child they loved. He'd damned Cordelia into missing her own child.

She blinked a couple of times, not looking at him, just over at his crib. "I saw."

Two words. Two words shattered everything. His redemption, everything. Wasn't important. In that moment, Angel gave up and there wouldn't be any returning. She'd seen. To someone who didn't know them. This could mean anything - she'd saw... An infidelity perhaps. But to Angel - she'd seen. She'd seen his son.

"What did you see?" He asked, his voice calm.

Cordelia's head shot up and she shook her head, furiously. She wouldn't tell him that. She was reliving it - speaking it was too much.

"WHAT DID YOU SEE?"

"No..." She said, tears running down her cheeks. "No."

"TELL ME!"

She couldn't. She couldn't form words that would actually explain to him what she'd seen. So she shook her head again.

Gripping her arms tightly, Angel's eyes glared down into hers, "Tell me!" He yelled. He watched as her face crumpled, as eyes that he thought had looked tired for weeks, months even, died that little bit more. *The eyes are the windows to the soul Angelus. We don't have one.* Why he'd thought of what Darla had said now was beyond him. But he saw. He saw in her eyes that what she'd seen was too horrific for her to relive by actually speaking them but still he pressed... "Tell me."

"Angel, please..." She begged. "Don't make me..."

"Tell me." He said again.

Part of her closed off. He saw it shutting in her eyes as she looked down. "He... He let a vampire... And then he..." Cordelia paused, "It was like... It was like he was reaching for me..." She whispered, her hands shaking violently. "I tried to reach him. But... But I couldn't. He was holding out his hand... And I tried. I couldn't reach him. He used to reach up and... Just grab my finger and... Just squeeze it but this time... I just couldn't... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. He couldn't see me." She whispered. "They wouldn't let me help."

Why would they show her this? Just to punish her? It had to be. It had to be. She was being punished. So was he. He closed his eyes, hearing what she'd said. "This wasn't your fault." He whispered, calmly. He had to be strong. For her, for his friends. He had to be strong.

"I couldn't reach him..." She whispered again.

The Same Night

He'd had enough of waiting. He'd had enough of doing nothing, of not exacting his revenge over Holtz for taking the child. He'd had enough. Guilt encompassed him until the point where his heart hurt. Until the point where he could wait no longer. In silence, he wrote a letter. Short, brief - to the point. Apologizing. Apologizing for failing his friends, for failing Connor. Apologizing for acting rashly and not thinking of the consequences. In the end, he scrumpled it up and threw it in the trash. For how could apologise for this? Gathering his weapons, he took one last look at his surroundings before turning and walking down the steps. They'd gloated - sent him a letter (although he wondered why) saying that if he wanted to exact his revenge, Holtz would meet him. Fight him to the death, his preferably. And so he'd left - with only atoning for this sin in mind. Only this one.

To my friends,

Words can never make up for what I've done. I can only apologise and even then it won't ever be enough. How can I look at you all again, knowing how I've failed you?

The right place, the right time and there he stood, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "You turned up, I didn't think you would."

I never meant to hurt you. I acted rashly, out of character? Perhaps. I was wrong. Please forgive me.

"Like I'd miss this opportunity."

Those were the last words of a once respected man. Beaten down, he didn't have the strength to rise again - had seen too many fights but had never lost the battle inside. That was gone. He had nothing left. The child he loved like a son was gone. Left, an empty void in the lives of his friends. I say once respected. He lost every ounce of self-respect when he took Angel's son from him. As Wesley Wyndham Price closed his eyes for the last time, breathed his last breath he whispered too words, "Forgive me."

Present

Another vision. This one of Wesley - it had broken Cordelia. Broken her to the point of sitting in Connor's nursery and crying constantly. In a few days, she'd probably get up and force a smile to her face, but nothing would ever be the same. Wesley was gone. They'd found the note and they mourned.

They all did.

Even Angel.

For his best friend had left on a suicide mission and could never be returned. In Angel's mind, the answer was simple. He'd asked too much.

In Cordelia's - a question: Why?

The bonds of friendship had been shattered by a moment of panic, a moment of fear. Angel had lost a son and a friend, a good friend.

The way of the world, perhaps?

No. Just the way of his. The way of theirs.

They mourned.

End.

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