Chapter 4
Author: Beth
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Spoilers: Somnambulist
Summary: The events of Somnambulist as they might have happened in the 'Power of Three' universe.
Thoughts between Angel, Doyle and Cordelia are marked //like this.//
//Who were you talking to?// Angel questioned, truly not knowing.
By cutting himself off from his lovers so much, he had, in turn, made it more difficult to read their thoughts.
Doyle, noticing this, frowned slightly.
//Nobody.// Cordelia answered, squeezing Doyle's hand gently. //And Wesley. Remember that license plate we got on that runaway case?//
She wanted to ask so much more, wanted to know what was wrong with the vampire. He looked horrible, almost sickly. She doubted vampires were ever supposed to look that way.
Angel gave her a look and moved to pour himself a cup of coffee. Doyle rose from his perch on Cordelia's desk and moved closer to the other man.
//I thought you were going to follow up on it.//
//No go. The BMV is totally stalker-phobic.// Cordy responded half-heartedly, mind on other matters.... most importantly, what was bothering Angel. Both the men caught this thought.
Angel glared at her. //Don't.//
//Don't what, man? Don't care why ya look like total shit? Don't wonder why you keep shuttin' us out? I t'ought we meant sum'thin' ta one another. I thought we shared stuff.//
//Doyle, it's not like that. I need to deal with some things right now.//
//I can bloody well see tha'. But we're here ta help, Angel. No matter wha', we're here to help.// Doyle placed a hand on his lover's shoulder. Angel leaned momentarily into the contact before pulling away with an obvious effort.
//I should go... maybe talk to Kate about this case.// The vampire placed his still full cup of coffee on the table and turned slightly, moving towards the door.
//No.// Both Doyle and Cordelia spoke as one. She moved to stand in front of him, blocking the exit route he had planned.
//Ya're done wit' thi', luv. Done wit' th' secrets. We need ta talk. I know we said we'd give ya more time but look at yerself.//
//You look half-dead.// Cordy supplied with a concerned tone to her voice. Angel shied away from her piercing gaze.
//Would one of you please just give me the license plate number?// He looked pleadingly at both of them but neither one seemed in the mood to back down. He couldn't deal with this, not yet.
//Can' deal wit' wha'?// Doyle's voice asked softly in his mind. Angel ignored the silent question and moved over to the desk, picking up the piece of paper with the information on it.
//Angel, talk to us! You can't keep it all inside. I know you've done that for years but know you have someone... two someones... willing to help you through it. Whatever 'it' is.// Cordelia walked over to him, placing a hand on his back. //Please let us in.//
//No,// he responded again, stubbornly. //I'm not going to let you — // Angel cut the thought off abruptly before letting too much out.
He didn't want to scare his lovers with his fear that he could be killing again. It would only hurt things. Doyle and Cordelia would probably blame themselves, thinknig their relationship was what had started it all.
"I'm fine, Cordelia... Doyle. I'm perfectly fine." They blinked at him speaking aloud but didn't say a word. "Now if you don't mind I'm going to go talk to Kate about this." He gestured to the piece of paper with the license plate number scrawled on it.
"But An – "
"I'm fine, Doyle." Angel called over his shoulder as he opened the door. The vampire hissed and jumped back a moment later, smoking slightly. "I'll take the tunnels."
Doyle slipped his arms around Cordelia's waist and they stared worriedly at the back of their lover as he left.
//Sum'thin' wrong wit' 'im, 'Delia.//
//I know. But what is it? Something with his past? With us? I mean he keeps blocking us out, I can't help but think...// She moved in his arms, leaning her head against his chest.
//I know, princess. But it's not us. He woulda tol' us if it was.//
//Would he? How do you know he wouldn't have kept it in, just trying to not hurt us?//
//I don' but I can't let meself t'ink tha'. It hurts too much.//
//Sorry for bringing it up.// Cordelia apologized and Doyle kissed the top of her head.
//No problem, darlin'. Been havin' th' same doubts meself.//
//I just wish I knew what to do. Angel won't say anything to us and I don't want to force him to talk...//
//But it seems like th' only solution. We'll figure sum't'in' out, don't worry.//
Cordelia smiled softly. //Want to try that again with some confidence?//
//Would help me plan ta make ya feel better 'bout this, yeah?//
She nodded. //Yeah. What are we going to do?// Her fear and confusion hit Doyle hard, as it probably did Angel. The half-demon sighed in response.
//I dunno, darlin'. I jus' dunno wha' we c'n do. We can force Angel ta speak ta us, yeah but tha' could jus' cause more problems. I doubt he'd like us invadin' 'is thoughts like that.//
//What other choice do we have, Doyle?//
He was about to respond when he noticed a person pass in front of the door before moving on. //Company, princess.//
She moved slightly from his embrace, looking intently at the door. //I saw but they moved on. There are other offices in this building, Doyle.//
//Maybe,// he thought back before moving from her and in the direction of the door. He turned the knob and opened the door, not able to hide the grimace as he saw who it was.
"Wesley."
The former watcher didn't even bother greeting the Irishman, instead turning his attention to Cordelia. "Where's Angel?"
"Not here..." Cordelia's eyes widened as she saw the stake in Welsey's hand but Doyle spoke first, beating her to it.
"Wha' th' hell d'ya t'ink you're doin' comin' in here wit' tha'?"
"Normally I'd tell Doyle he was being rude but not right now Wesley." Cordelia stared at him coldly. "You know coming into a vampire's place of business with one of those things is beyond rude."
"Yeah, Wes, i' could be misinterpreted. One might t'ink ya were comin' in here ready ta stake Angel on th' spot. Not a nice thing for a bloke ta do now, is it?"
Wesley stuttered a moment before remembering the reason why he had come. He put his bag down on the nearest surface and pulled out a newspaper clipping.
//I don' care if ya did like thi' guy, 'Delia... I'm no' lettin' 'im near Angel.//
// You'll have to get in line.//
"You recall earlier this morning, that mix-up with the dentist's mail and newspaper?" At their nods Wesley showed them the clipping. "That's when I saw this."
"Oh my God! You cut up Dr. Folger's newspaper? You're going to get us kicked out of this building!"
//No, darlin,' th' headline.// Doyle's voice sounded strained in her mind.
//What is it?//
//Read fer yourself. I's wha' Angel couldn' say.//
Turning a confused glance on the Irishman, Cordelia could only stare at him a moment. Then she did what he had suggested, already getting the information from his shocked mind.
//I don't care what it looks like, it isn't. Angel would never do this. He's good.//
//I know, princess. But i' don' look good, 'specially from Wesley's point o' view.//
Wesley started to talk about the article, ignoring the silence from the others if he had even noticed it. "When I saw this story it rang chillingly familiar. So I reacquainted myself with certain facts confirming my, I'm sorry to say, grim suspicions. In the late 1700's, it was Angelus' custom to 'sign' his victims by carving a Christian cross into their left cheek. He liked to let people know he'd been there."
"Okay, leave now." Cordelia spoke softly but Doyle knew she was ready to seriously hurt Wesley. She tossed the file he had handed her back with a low growl.
//Now now, princess... I think ya been hangin' 'round Angel too long.//
"Ya're no' gonna come in here 'n accuse Angel like thi'. We aren't gonna let ya."
"Cordelia." Wesley was worried. Did 'Doyle' have more control over her than he had previously thought?
She wasn't even going to consider that Angel could be bad. It had to be the demon pretending to be her friend. There was no other explanation.
"No! I don't care how many files you have on all the horrible things he did back in the powdered wig days! He's good now."
Wesley stepped back a little at her outburst, eyes wide.
"He's our friend, Wesley. An' nothin' ya or anyone else can say will make us turn on a friend."
Then, Angel thought silently to them: //He's right.//
