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Temptations
By MeriBeth

Finally alone, Wesley flipped the locks on the door, more than a bit surprised that Angel had both agreed to and encouraged Fred’s staying here with the newly named Connor. They all talked, smashed together in his Jeep, about what had happened at the hotel as they had driven to the hospital. He still wondered what had happened in the examination room that had caused Fred to blush so deeply and Cordelia to laugh at her.

He turned back to the living room, reaching out a hand to flip off the overhead lights, leaving the room heavily cast in shadow save for the single table lamp behind the sofa. Fred sat just on the edge of that light, curled into an armchair with Connor cradled in her arms. The baby had begun to fuss and the rest had taken that as a signal that it was time to end the conversation for the night. Wes stood there, just inside the living room, watching Fred nurse the baby.

"Does this bother you?" Fred asked softly, looking up from Connor to see Wesley staring at her. She wasn’t truly comfortable with this, being alone with him, in his apartment, with his bed so close to them. She still didn’t know what the sleeping arrangements would be, though Connor’s crib had been set up in Wes’ bedroom. "Wesley?"

"No," he sighed in response. He dropped his gaze, looking at the floor instead of her. "No, it’s right." Slowly, he returned his gaze to her, meeting her eyes and seeing her doubts in them. "What is it?"

"You don’t. . . . " Fred broke off, stifling the sob that threatened. She returned her attention to Connor, watching him and wondering if Wesley would behave differently if it were their child she nursed. Drawing in a deep breath, she finally asked the question that had nagged at her for so long, ever since he’d raped her. "You don’t look at me anymore, Wesley. Did I do something wrong?"

Wes was shocked by the tone of her voice, the look on her face that of a lost little girl, bewildered at being alone. He crossed the room to crouch beside the chair that she sat in, looking up at her while he gathered his thoughts. He truly didn’t know how to explain what was wrong. "It’s not you," he spoke softly, hoping he wasn’t about to send her running from him. "Fred, I promised you the night you came here that I would never force you into anything." He rose to his feet and began to pace the confines of his apartment, if only to avoid touching her.

"You tempt me." He paused for a moment to look at her before returning to his pacing and his confession. A confession that would more than likely break the tentative relationship they had. "I took something from you I had no right to take, then compounded that mistake by marrying you." He heard her gasp, knew the sound for what it was, and whirled, seeing the tears that were in her eyes. "Fred. . . . "

"Marrying me was a mistake?" she whimpered, the hand not holding Connor rising to her mouth as she tried to stifle the sobs that threatened.

"NO!" Wes cried in denial. "Fred, I love you. Have loved you for quite some time. All I want to do is seduce you into my bed." Wes’ voice dropped, reflecting the pain that he felt in the face of her tears. "Now you’re here. You’ll be sleeping in my bed, just beyond that door, and there’s a part of me that revels in that fact." He started toward her, reaching a hand out toward her, dropping it when she shrank back in the chair, her arms going around the baby she held.

He turned away, dropping onto the sofa, and running his hands through his hair. "I…" he broke off and shook his head, trying to make the feelings in him make sense to her. He took another deep breath, raising his head to meet her eyes, holding them as he told her the darkest secret of his recent life. "I remember it, Winifred." Wes rose, keeping his eyes on her, watching to see if she began to fear him, and stalked toward her, kneeling on the floor in front of her. "I remember it," he repeated, slowly, softly. "There’s a part of me that wants to claim you, take you to bed and bind you to me." He reached out a hand, stroking a finger over the baby’s cheek and onto the curve of her breast, feeling her shudder under that touch. "I won’t do that," Wes continued softly, dropping his hand from her while he still could.

"Why not?" Fred’s question was choked, for she still fought with the tears and the pain that had struck her when he said that their marriage was a mistake. Yet looking at him, at the pain that haunted his eyes, she knew he hadn’t meant the words the way they sounded. "Please, Wesley, tell me."

"Because your screams haunt my nightmares." He ducked his head again, looking away from her into the shadows of the apartment for a moment. "I will never, never hurt you like that again."

*******

"What the hell’s going on, Angel?" Cordy demanded as she climbed into the convertible outside of Wes’ apartment building. "Why did you all but demand that Connor stay here?"

Angel leaned forward to start the car, listening to the engine rumble to life before turning to Cordelia. "Fred’s breastfeeding Connor so he’ll need to be around her for that. Wesley is going to be very protective of them from now on thanks to Darla’s attack." Angel pulled the car into traffic, heading towards Cordelia’s place, hoping that would quiet her.

"That doesn’t explain anything, Angel, and you know it," she retorted. "It’s more than that, isn’t it?"

Releasing an unnecessary sigh, Angel reluctantly nodded. He didn’t want to tell her what he sensed about the baby, his son. The only child he would ever have wasn’t even his any longer and he knew it. Thanks to Darla’s recklessness in feeding from Fred, he’d lost Connor, though he knew that neither Fred nor Wesley knew the full implications of what had happened. Not yet at least.

"Tell me." Cordy half-turned in her seat to look at Angel, reaching across the car to lay a hand on his arm. "What is it?"

"I don’t want to talk about it." Angel stopped the car at a red light, casting a ‘cease-and-desist’ look at her, though he knew that was likely a futile gesture. "Not until…"

"Until what?"

"Not until I can talk to Wes," Angel replied, returning his attention to the road. "What Darla did has more implications for his and Fred’s relationship and Fred’s relationship to Connor than it does to mine."

"What do you mean?" Cordy sounded as confused as she felt, looking up as she felt the car halt in front of her building. "It’s almost dawn. Come up and stay. "

"I have time."

"Come up," Cordy repeated in her ‘Queen C’ voice, watching as Angel turned the car off and climbed out in what seemed an automatic response to that tone. She filed that action away to ask Wesley about later. "I want to know what you mean by Darla doing something to Wes and Fred. Things were just starting to go right for them."

*******

Gunn cast a sharp look at his passenger; ferrying a demon home was not high on his priority list. Lorne just glared back. Finally, Gunn sighed and asked the question he didn’t know if he wanted the answer to, yet he had to know. "Will they stay together?"

"Wes and Fred, you mean?" Lorne answered the question with one of his own. At Gunn’s nod, he sighed. "I wouldn’t normally tell about these things, but cupcake, you haven’t got a chance with her. Besides, she’s not the one you’re interested in anyway. Fred was just a convenient distraction."

With a sigh, Gunn nodded, accepting Lorne’s words for what they were, the advice of a knowledgeable friend. "And she’s not interested in me, anyway."

Rather than say anything that could twist events any more, Lorne kept quiet. He’d seen the pain and suffering that was going to be visited on his friends, seen the ties that bound Wes and Fred, ties that the couple hadn’t even acknowledged yet. It was becoming harder and harder to stay an observer, especially with the little peanut added to the mix.

*******

Fred stared at Wesley, shocked by his confession and stunned by the way she’d reacted to his brief touch. She didn’t know what to say, what to do, and so she just stared at him. Even as she stared, her mind raced, flitting from place to place and thought to thought. Fred shifted a bit in the chair, suddenly very uncomfortable feeding Connor in front of him.

Wes looked up when he heard her shift in the chair and rose, edging around the chair to head for the kitchen. "I’ve upset you. I’m sorry," he murmured as he left the room. He entered the kitchen, absently setting the kettle on the stove to boil water, and turned back to lean on the pillar at the end of the kitchen’s half wall. He watched as she lowered her head, her hair veiling her face from him, and wondered what she was thinking about. "Do you want me to go for a bit?"

Fred’s head came up, craning over her shoulder to look at him. "Would you?" Her voice shook as she spoke and she didn’t say anything more, just looked at him with wide eyes. "Just . . .."

"I won’t be far," he replied, reaching behind him to turn off the stove. "I’ll have the cell with me. Call when you’re ready." He came around the wall, crossing the living room and picking up his jacket off the sofa. "You need to think, I know that, and you can’t do it with me here."

Fred watched sadly as Wes slipped on his jacket, saddened by the fact that she was suddenly so very uncomfortable with Wesley. She rose, standing by the chair as Wes reached for the door. "Wesley?"

"I know, liskurja," he answered sadly. "I know." He opened the door, pausing in the doorway to turn and look at her. "Lock this." He waited for her to nod before leaving, quietly closing the door behind him.

Fred stood there for a moment, wondering if he really understood. Slowly, she crossed the room, locking the door and resting a hand on the door for a moment. She looked down at Connor, who had fallen asleep while nursing. She shifted him slightly, heading through the darkened apartment to the bedroom, laying the baby into the crib. She stroked his cheek, turning away and crossing to the windows.

She shifted the curtains enough to look out, watching the night. It was then she saw him, wandering somewhat aimlessly through the park across the street. Fred leaned against the window frame, indulging in one of her favorite pastimes: watching Wesley.

Watching Wesley made her all gooey inside, at least when she wasn’t reminded of that night. She didn’t understand it. How she could be all melting one minute and tense the next? She closed her eyes, resting her head on the edge of the window frame, trying to sort out how she felt. Her hand came up, resting over where Wes had caressed her for a moment in the living room. That memory made her skin tingle, made her wonder once again what it would feel like to be with him, loving him the way she wanted to; yet her mind ran in fear from the mere thought of him touching her, deathly afraid that he was going to hurt her again.

Fred opened her eyes, seeking Wesley in the park, seeing him leaning against one of the trees, his head down. He seemed in as much pain as she was right now. Somehow, she knew that it had hurt him to admit that he dreamed of that night. No, it was more than that. It wasn’t that he dreamed of it, but that he had nightmares about it.

Fred released the curtain, crossing the room to the bed and curling up in the middle of it. She needed to talk to someone about this, about what all these confusing feelings meant, so she reached for the phone, dialing it quickly before she lost her nerve. "Cordelia? It’s Fred."

*******

Wesley leaned against the tree in the park. He needed to be nearby in case she needed him, for anything. He stood there for a while, wishing that he hadn’t said anything about the nightmares. She needed to know though, especially since she’d be in the apartment at night. He didn’t know what she’d likely hear and he didn’t want to scare her.

The chiming ring of his cell phone caused him to jump and he snatched it out of a pocket, flipping it open. "Fred?" The male voice on the other end was a shock, as Wesley hadn’t thought that they had the AI cell phone numbers. "What do you want? Well, thank you for telling me." Wes drew in a fortifying breath, before asking another question. "That couldn’t have been the only reason that you . . ." He trailed off as the sound of a tape player being turned on came across the phone, followed by eerily familiar begging. Wes’ free hand clenched by his side, his whole body tensed at the sounds. When the tape cut off, Wes spoke slowly into the phone through clenched teeth. "Why? When?" There was a pause and then Wes sighed heavily. "Very well."

*******

Wesley leaned in the doorway to the bedroom, watching Fred sleep in the faint light coming in through the curtains. She looked so innocent when she slept, one hand tucked under her cheek and her hair spread about her. Once again, he wished things were different, that he had the right to do what he wanted: sit beside her, trace a hand over her skin and kiss her awake. He knew better though, knew from their brief talk the previous evening that she wouldn’t appreciate that.

A soft sound from the crib caught Wes’ attention and he crossed the room to look in on the baby who was just starting to stir. Smiling down at Connor, he carefully lifted him from the crib, rocking him slightly and speaking in a near whisper. "Shh, don’t wake Mother."

Wes carried Connor over to the dresser where the baby’s diapers and things had been left. He didn’t know why he had referred to Fred as Connor’s mother, but it made sense to him. He set to work changing the baby, humming softly to try to keep the baby quiet until he was done and could pick him back up. He cradled Connor in his arms and almost dropped him when Fred’s soft voice came from behind him. "You’re very good with him."

"I try." Wes looked up, meeting her eyes in the mirror, watching as she shifted in the bed until she was sitting up, leaning back against the pillows and watching him with Connor. "I want to be a better parent than my father was," he said softly, not looking away from her face.

"You will be," Fred stated firmly. "Why don’t you bring him here? He’s getting hungry."

Wes laughed softly, shifting Connor to rest against his shoulder as he turned. "Seems that way." He crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed, handing Connor to her. "May I. . . ?"

"Stay, Wesley," Fred interrupted, settling against the pillows to feed Connor. "Tell me about your family. You’ve hinted a lot, but haven’t actually said anything." When Wesley looked away, she reached forward with one hand, cupping his cheek and turning him back toward her. "Please, tell me."

"I don’t like to remember it," Wesley answered, turning a bit more to press a kiss to her palm. "None of us are close because of him. We barely tolerate each other. And I know the girls blame me for what happened to them."

"Wesley, tell me," Fred repeated softly. "At least tell me their names. I always wanted siblings, Connor will have one and…." Fred broke off in confusion. "Wes, why did I do that?"

"I don’t know." Wes looked at her, more than a bit shocked. "Angel said that he needed to talk to me about Connor, but didn’t say why. I should call…"

"Don’t." Fred caught his hand, stopping it from reaching the phone. "You can discuss it at work." She tilted her head to look at him, smiling softly. "This is us time: you, me and Connor. Don’t spoil it with work."

Wes smiled, laughing softly. "All right." He kicked off his shoes and lay beside her, propping his head up on one arm. "It amazes me that you did this." He watched Fred smile, a faint blush coloring her skin as she ducked her head slightly, though he could see that the smile had lit her eyes as she looked at him through her hair.

*******

Wesley held the door for Fred as she entered the hotel with Connor in her arms, resting one hand on her back as she passed him. He loved to touch her and was glad that she was finally allowing him to do so without flinching away from him.

In the lobby of the hotel, Angel looked up and smiled at the couple coming into the hotel. He heard a sigh from behind him, looking over his shoulder to see Lorne standing there also watching them.

"It’s going to be hard for them, especially now." Lorne spoke softly, almost to himself. "What you’re going to tell Wesley this morning will make a complicated situation even worse."

"How did you know?"

"You were humming while you put the bassinet together," Lorne said, stepping around Angel to head for the door. "Good morning. How’s the peanut this morning?"

Laughing, Fred descended the stairs into the lobby. "Connor is fine, Lorne." She turned, handing the baby to Wesley, inclining her head toward Angel, before scampering across the lobby towards the stairs. "You talk to Angel about this morning. I want to pack my things since I couldn’t last night." She climbed the stairs as quickly as she safely could, wanting to meet with Cordy to continue their discussion from the previous night.

"What about this morning?" Angel asked, rising from the floor as Wes came to lay Connor in the bassinet. He looked down at the baby who was lying there gurgling up at the two men.

"Two things," Wes said softly, looking over at Lorne. "Promise me this goes no further than us." Seeing both men nod, Wes sat on the sofa by the baby, absently rocking the bassinet while talking. "Last night, Wolfram and Hart called me. Linwood Murrow expects me at their offices in an hour. They’ve made threats about Fred."

"Those bastards," Angel spat, rising to pace the lobby. "I’ll go and destroy them…"

"No." Wes’ sharp voice cut through Angel’s developing rant. "I’ll handle it. It’s a personal threat." He waited for Angel to settle a bit before continuing. "What we’re both concerned over is what happened this morning. Fred referred to Connor as hers, as if he were her child, not yours and Darla’s."

"I’m not surprised." Angel settled into one of the armchairs in the lobby. "Darla feeding off Fred changed something with Connor. I don’t know what it was exactly, but he’s more hers than mine."

"What do you mean?" Wes rose to his feet, starting to pace himself, worried over the meeting with Linwood and the implications of Angel’s statement.

"I mean that Connor smells like Fred." Angel leaned back in the chair, steepling his fingers and choosing his words with care. "To vampires children carry two scents: their own and their parents. Wesley, Connor smells more like you and Fred than he does Darla and me. So she’s likely reacting as if she’s his mother, not his foster mother."

Wes nodded absently, his mind trying to wrap around that implication, and came to the sobering realization that he’d have to do even more research to figure that out. Well, that will keep me occupied and not bothering her, Wes thought disparagingly. Glancing at the clock, he sighed again. "I’ll research it when I get back from this meeting."

"Does Fred know?"

"Only that I have a meeting, not who it’s with," Wes interrupted, heading for the door. "I’ll tell her when I’m ready. Just keep an eye on her and Connor for me."

Angel nodded, hiding his smile at Wes’ unconscious pairing of Fred and Connor. He knew that Wesley was also developing a parental bond with the baby. "I’ll take care of it."

*******

Wesley glared at Linwood, one shaking hand resting on the folder on the conference room table, his eyes dropping to the videotape beside it. "What do you want?"

"The baby," Linwood replied, sharing a smirking look with Lilah. "We both know that Angel’s son has as much of a pivotal role to play as the vampire himself. Therefore, since it is more than obvious that Angel will allow no one near the child outside of his chosen circle, we want you to observe and report back to us." Linwood leaned both hands on the table, staring across it at Wesley. "In return, I’ll see that those remain hidden in our vaults. Otherwise . . . " He trailed off, allowing the threat to hang, unfinished.

"That’s not good enough." Wesley leaned back in his chair, gathering himself together. He was determined to twist this situation to his own advantage; nothing would be allowed to jeopardize the health of Connor, Fred or the child that Fred carried. "No, if you want my assistance, I’ll need assurances from someone with more power than you, Mr. Murrow."

"I don’t think that’s possible," Lilah stated with a smirk. "No one outside the company. . . ."

The phone on the conference room table rang, interrupting Lilah’s smirking taunt. Wesley listened as Linwood first started to yell, then became very respectful as he spoke. He leaned forward in his chair, casually pulling the videotape over and setting it on top of the folder. He rested his hands on top, watching Lilah and Linwood with a carefully contained expression.

"Well, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, it seems that the senior partners have someone here whose word they know you’ll trust." Linwood stepped around the table for the door. "If you’ll come with us, we’ll take you to her."

"Her?"

Wes raised an eyebrow, picking up the items on the table before following Lilah, who’d asked the question, and Linwood down one of Wolfram and Hart’s finely paneled hallways to the elevator. Once inside, with Lilah standing nervously to one side, Linwood pressed a series of buttons, then when a larger one appeared above the panel, depressed it, causing the elevator to disappear in a flash of brilliant white light.

"The White Room?" Lilah gasped. "What are you thinking?"

"Hello, Wesley. I haven’t seen you for a long time."

The childish voice from behind them interrupted anything that Linwood would have said. Wesley himself tensed as the voice, which he’d last heard screaming, stirred memories he had repressed for years. He turned slowly around, facing the girl in the chair in the center of the vast white space that they were all in. "Meggie. That wasn’t my idea."

"I know. " She laughed softly, holding a hand out toward them, a digital optical disc appearing in it. "But she’s family, Wesley, as are you." The disc as well as the items that Wesley had been holding, the videotape and the folder of stills from it, all landed in Meggie’s lap.

Wes bowed his head, and then raised his eyes to her. "So are you."

"Not anymore." Meggie smiled at him. "Don’t worry, big brother. I won’t charge you for this, for protecting the family. It’s what I’ll ask for next time that you’ll need to worry about."

Wesley laughed softly, smiling at the girl. He saw in her eyes her response though he knew she no longer held any real love for him because of her current position, which was partly his own fault. "I’ll remember that."

"Will you?" she said softly. "Perhaps you will. I wonder which side you’ll end up on. Ours or theirs." Meggie smiled, a smile that was tinged with the evil that she had been exposed to as a child and had truly embraced--a smile that Wesley shivered at seeing turned on him. "I can’t wait to see how it turns out."

No sooner had she spoken then the white flare of light came again and they were back in the elevator, heading back for the lobby. Wesley drew in a deep, cleansing breath, shocked at what had happened to his youngest sister. He leaned back against the back wall of the elevator, trying to force the memories back into the small hole that he’d hidden them away in.

"How did you know her?"

Lilah’s question surprised Wesley, jerking him out of his memories. "So you don’t know everything about us yet?" Wes stared at Lilah, trying to think if she was being sincere. Deciding that she was, he gave her a serious answer. "Lilah, if you really want to know, look at your records for Mary Margaret Wyndham-Pryce. Then you’ll know." As the elevator doors opened onto the lobby, Wes stepped between the pair of them, pausing in the doorway, turning a hate-filled glare on both of them. "And if you ever attempt to harm Fred or the children again, nothing will stop me from toppling this firm. If you know my family the way you claim to, then you’ll know what we’re capable of."

*******

Fred stepped off the stairs into the lobby, Cordelia following her with the suitcase. Both women stared at the doors in shock as Wesley slammed them behind him as he came into the hotel.

"Crumb cake, you need a drink," Lorne said, somewhat shocked at Wes’ behavior.

"Yes, I do," Wesley replied, heading for his office and slamming that door behind him as well.

The occupants of the lobby all shared shocked looks and Fred calmly dropped the backpack that she was carrying on the steps, crossing the lobby to the office door and reaching for the handle. She took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping into the darkened room and looking for Wesley. It took a couple of minutes, but she found him slumped in his desk chair, his elbows on the desk and his hands in his hair. "Wesley?" He looked up and Fred gasped softly, crossing the room, kneeling on the floor beside him and wrapping her arms around him. "Whatever it is, we’ll get though it."

"It was Meggie," Wesley murmured in Fred’s ear, pulling her up off the floor. He rose, pulling her over to the sofa, and waiting for her to sit down. Settling beside her, he closed his eyes and tried to think about what to tell her and how to tell it. "Liskurja, do you still want to know about the family that you’re now a part of?"

"Of course." Fred turned on the sofa to look at him. "They made you who you are. I need to know." She reached out a hand, brushing a few stray curls off his forehead. She was very happy that he hadn’t cut his hair. The longer length softened him, made him younger, more his true age than what was reflected in his eyes.

"It’s not pretty, love." Wesley turned away, looking back into the lobby where the rest of the team were trying their best to not look like they were watching the office and them. "I suppose I should tell you all of it, but I just hate remembering it. Especially her."

"Her?" Fred questioned softly, uncurling his hand where he’d clenched it on his thigh, threading her fingers through his and holding him tightly.

"Meggie," Wes whispered. "Mary Margaret." He drew in a breath, and slowly let it out, forcing himself to calm. "My youngest sister is now the haruspex at Wolfram and Hart." Wes watched Fred blink at him as she processed this information, her agile mind rapidly putting things together. Before she could say anything he continued, not realizing that Angel and Cordy, with Gunn behind them, had slipped into the room through the sliding doors.

"There are five of us, six if you count Elizabeth." Wes closed his eyes, resting his head on his arm where it rested on the back of the sofa. "Elizabeth Anne is the eldest, our half-sister. Then there are the Wyndham-Pryce children: Mary Margaret, Victoria, Louise, Sarah, and I. Meggie was the youngest."

"Was?" Cordelia interjected as she tried to get the names straight in her head.

"Was." Wes opened his eyes, turning his head to look at her. "My father killed her when she rebelled against his demands when she was ten. He tried choking her into submission, she fought, and when I tried to stop him, he dropped her into the terrace. She fractured her skull, dying from the trauma." Wes drew in another deep breath, trying to force the memories and the pain back. "Father had it covered up as a riding accident. It wouldn’t do to have a scandal."

Fred reached out with her other arm, pulling Wesley toward her so that his head rested on her shoulder. She stroked his back, rocking slightly to try to comfort him. He accepted it for a moment, and then pulled away, looking at Fred with sad eyes.

"It fell apart just after that. I went to University and the Council’s training. None of us talked about it or the past. In fact, outside of business and required phone calls for holidays, we don’t talk at all." Wes shook his head again. "I just never expected something like that of Meggie, for her to embrace evil because of what he had done to her."

"Who did what to whom?" Gunn asked somewhat stupidly, as he was thoroughly lost. He was surprised by the glare Fred turned on him, even as she reached for Wesley again.

"Shut up, Gunn." Fred wrapped her arms around Wesley, understanding what he didn’t say. "All of you," she murmured softly into Wes’ ear. "No wonder you were so upset. He abused all of you." She held him tightly, the knowledge hardening her heart against her in-laws. She may never have met them, but she hated them for what they had done to her Wesley. She looked over his shoulder at Cordy, addressing the other woman. "Cordy, could you fetch Connor, please? And then all of you leave us alone for a bit."

Cordy nodded, leaving the room to get the baby who was just starting to waken, bringing him back to Fred, who released Wes to take the baby, though she stayed as close to him as she could. Then the trio of Gunn, Cordy and Angel left the room with Angel closing the doors behind them.

When they were finally alone, Fred handed Connor to Wesley, forcing him to focus on the present. She reached behind them to close the blinds before undoing the buttons on her blouse to feed Connor. Taking the baby back, she cradling him against her, watching to be sure that he was starting to nurse before looking up at Wesley. "Never, never think of yourself as being like him. He still hurts you, feels the need to better himself by belittling you. You are far better than him. Never forget that."

*******

Angel stood in the center of the lobby, glaring indiscriminately at everyone and everything. He needed to kill something, preferably Wesley’s father. He slammed a hand onto the counter, frustrated by that simple fact that he couldn’t hurt that man for what he’d done to Wesley.

"I know, Angel, I know." Cordy rested a hand on Angel’s back, feeling the tension in the vampire. "There’s nothing we can do but be there for him." She leaned on the counter, her eyes closing as she thought about the last several months, the pain that haunted all of them and the tentativeness of Wesley’s relationship with Fred. Apparently, the Powers Themselves had decided that the break was over for Cordy felt it build, had time to whimper before the pain and the vision hit.

"Cordy!"

Angel echoed Gunn’s cry as both men reached for Cordelia before she could hit the floor. They both heard the door open as Wes, Fred and Connor entered the lobby. Angel looked up and shared a worried look with Wesley, both men knowing that she should have recovered before now. Cordy’s soft, pain-filled moan broke the pair’s stare. Angel turned his attention to Cordelia, watching as she opened her eyes briefly, and then closed them, laying her arm over her face.

"Gunn, turn the lights out." Wesley stared at the younger man, seeing pain in his eyes over the fact he could do nothing for Cordelia.

"What?"

With Fred following him farther into the room, Wesley repeated himself. "Turn the lights out." He crossed the room, kneeling beside Cordelia on the cold marble, keeping his voice to an almost whisper. "What have you been keeping from me?"

"Nothing," Cordelia replied, struggling to stay conscious, to not give in to the pain. "It’s nothing."

"Don’t lie to me," Wes said quietly. "Don’t lie to Angel." He reached out and caught her wrist, absently checking her pulse. "We’re family, Cordelia. We don’t keep secrets."

"You did," Cordy retorted, shifting her arm and cracking her eyes open to look at him. "Why didn’t you ever tell us? Couldn’t we be trusted?"

"I always trusted you," Wes whispered to her. "I just don’t like to remember, that’s all." He kept his grip on her wrist, shifting to look over his shoulder at Fred, sharing a smile with her. "I’m learning better. So why don’t you tell us what you’re keeping quiet about."

"I’m dying." Cordy shifted, pulling away from Wesley and struggling to sit up. "The visions are slowly killing me." She carefully shook her head, sighing. "Speaking of them, there’s a nest of vampires that are about to attack Gunn’s crew."

Immediately, Gunn rose, heading for the weapons cabinet, pulling out his axe and one of the crossbows. Angel still knelt on the floor, torn between going to do his duty and Cordelia. Wes looked up, shifting Cordelia to rest against him, where she sagged in relief. "Go. I’ll deal with this." Angel gave a sharp nod, rising and following Gunn out of the hotel to the car.

As soon as the door closed behind Angel and Gunn, Wes shifted Cordelia until he could pick her up, carrying her to the nearby sofa. Kneeling on the floor, he drew in a breath, unsurprised to feel a soft touch on his shoulder as Fred joined them, settling onto the round sofa beside Cordelia. "Tell me."

"I. . . "

"Cordelia, tell me." Wes stared at her intently. "I need to know so I can fix this."

"There isn’t a way." Cordelia shook her head, falling forward to rest on Wes’ shoulder, feeling him hold her and Fred start to stroke her hair. "I’ve been to everyone. They’re destroying me. One day I’ll get one, fall into a coma and not wake up." She started to cry, unable to cope with the stress and the pain anymore.

Wesley shared a long look with Fred, who lay Connor in his bassinet, and gathered Cordy into her arms, allowing Wesley to rise from the floor. "You rest, Cordy. Let Fred take care of you for a while." He crossed the room to the counter, turning on the small lamp on Cordy’s desk. That lamp gave enough light for all of them to see by without hurting Cordy’s eyes and worsening her headache.

He stood by the counter, resting his arms on it and thinking, trying to figure out why the visions were such a problem for Cordelia. From what he had heard about Doyle, he’d also suffered pain with them, but historically most true seers didn’t suffer like this. Wesley actually felt the pieces fall into place in his mind. True seers are usually part demon, like her friend Doyle had been. Wes stared at Cordy in shock, unable to even figure out how to explain that to her.

*******

Angel swung his sword, impaling the vampire before hitting him as hard as he could, twisting the sword as he removed it. He dropped the blade and turned his attention to beating on the vampires as well as staking them. Gunn’s crew knew how to hold their own, as did Gunn. But they were vastly outnumbered. Angel didn’t care. He had a chance to beat something, destroy something. He needed that release before the demon went after Wesley.

The demon wanted to tear Wes limb from limb. Torture him, make him bleed all over the place. Hear his screams for mercy. Listen to his begging, make him plead for his life and deny him that mercy. The child belongs to me, to the demon and the man. He wanted that place, that of parent, what Wesley had unintentionally stolen from him.

Angel snapped the neck of the vampire he’d been beating on, tossing the body away for one of the kids to stake, and turned his attention to the next. With this one, Angel imagined the visions, those images from the powers that were taking Cordelia from him. She was his, even if she didn’t know it yet. She was his mate. It was only a matter of time before he claimed her, before she took her proper place at his side.

Angel fought with the demon, with its demands that he go and destroy Wesley and claim Cordelia, even as he fought with the vampires menacing the children he had claimed as his, trying to invade his city. Another vampire got in his way, getting a fist in the face, a knee to the groin and a toss over his shoulder onto a nearby piece of wood that formed a perfect stake.

Fred. The other female in his possession. She intrigued the demon as well, by her quiet shyness, the way she was a perfect complement to Wesley. Angelus wondered what would break her. Would it be watching Wesley be tortured? The thought of her begging him for Wes’ life, promising him anything if he’d just leave Wesley alone, also interested the demon. She’d be the perfect pet, already trained to the position by her time in Pylea, tending to his child and gracing his bed on occasion.

Angel drew in an unneeded breath, forcing himself to calm down. He knew that there was no way he would allow any of the things that Angelus wanted to come to pass, except perhaps for claiming Cordelia. She was so important to him, not just for the visions, but the way her very presence brought light into the darkness that was his existence.

He threw away the final vampire body, tossing him into the path of Gunn who staked him. The street kid stared at him in shock. "Man, what’s gotten into you?"

"I needed to work out a few things." Angel picked up the sword from the pile of dust that surrounded him. "Any problems?"

"Nah, I’m good." Gunn followed Angel to where they’d parked the car. "I’m worried about Cordy though. That was a bad one." Gunn stopped by the side of the car, tossing his axe into the backseat. He leaned against the side of the car, turning a serious look on Angel. "Wesley seems to think that she’s hiding something from us. What could it be?"

"I don’t know," Angel replied. "But Wesley will figure it out."

*******

Wesley leaned on the counter, watching the scene in the lobby. Fred was stroking Cordy’s hair where the brunette lay curled on the sofa, her head resting in Fred’s lap. Cordy was more than a bit drugged at the moment, having taken the Darvocet that Wesley had dug up out of his desk from when he’d been shot. He knew that the powerful narcotic would help ease some of the pain that she was in, knew that she only agreed to take it because Fred promised to stay with her.

He watched his wife, his mind flitting over the list that she had made months ago when her parents had visited. He finally put in the final piece of her list. If Cordy was the heart, then Fred was the soul. She kept them sane, grounded, gave them a real reason to go out and risk their lives for the nameless people of LA. He bowed his head, closing the book in front of him. He drew in a breath, circling the counter to kneel on the floor by Fred. "How is she?" he asked softly, trying not to startle Cordy.

"Restless." Fred looked over to check that Connor was still sleeping, before dropping her hand from the bassinet to Wesley’s shoulder. "You found something, didn’t you?"

"I did." Wes looked away, staring across the floor before he sat the book down, reopening it and running a finger over the page. "I just don’t know if she, or any of us, are up to dealing with it."

"Dealing with what?" Angel demanded from the doors where he was coming in with Gunn. Both men placed their weapons on the counter before joining the group by the sofa. Angel stood, but Gunn seated himself on the floor near Cordy. Both men looked at Cordy before turning questioning gazes to Wesley.

"I gave her some of my Darvocet," Wes stated. "It’s the most powerful narcotic we have. What her doctors were giving her wasn’t working any more." He turned, leaning back against the sofa next to Fred’s leg, looking down at the book while he gathered his thoughts.

"Why Darvocet?" Gunn questioned, his brow wrinkling in confusion. Angel, however, abruptly sat down on the chair facing the sofa.

"It’s that bad?" he asked, staring at Wesley while waiting impatiently for an answer. "I knew they were hurting her, but never thought…."

"They aren’t hurting her." Wes looked up, meeting Angel’s gaze. "They’re killing her." Wesley rose from the floor, pacing the room and trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. Finally, he gave up and just made the statements. "Humans aren’t meant to be seers. Every seer on record, all the ones that the Council has followed, has been at least a quarter demon. Cordelia’s fully human. She’s had the visions for almost 3 years." Wes paused, shaking his head and leaning on the counter. "The only human that the Council ever found that was a seer barely lived 6 months before the visions killed her. I don’t know how Cordelia’s managed for this long."

"So, English, what do we do?"

"I don’t know." Wesley turned, leaning on the counter. "I know Cordelia though. She won’t give up the visions to someone else. So it’s a matter of changing her. I just don’t know how. We need to get to the Powers." Wes turned to face the group, looking from Angel to Gunn and back. "I know the rituals, but can’t do them."

"Why not?" Gunn all but screamed, jumping to his feet to glare at Wesley. Wes’ return glare and Cordy’s whimper quieted the man while Angel just gave Wes a hard glare.

Wes straightened away from the counter, crossing the room to return to his seat on the floor by the book, though this time he leaned his cheek onto Fred’s thigh. "I’m not qualified to anymore. Someone has their hands on my soul already." He tilted his head back to smile at Fred before returning his gaze to the others.

Gunn was tense, his hands clenched by his sides, clearly torn by Wes’ words. It was Angel’s reaction that was a surprise to Wesley, though he should have expected it. Angel rose, hints of his demon in his eyes as he crossed the lobby to stand over Cordelia, Fred and Wesley. He crouched beside Wesley, on Fred’s other side, reaching a hand out to brush Cordelia’s hair back off her face. He turned a grim, yet strangely fierce look on Wesley. The vampire’s voice was tinged with the innate menace that was Angelus, the scourge of Europe. "Nothing is taking Cordelia. Now tell me what to do."

*******

Wesley stood in the office doorway, watching Angel and Gunn clear out the furniture from the lobby. He wished that he didn’t have to deal with what he was going to have to do in a few minutes. He wasn’t looking forward to summoning up that side of himself, the power that he kept so tightly contained. A soft whimper from behind him had him forcing that down, focusing on what needed to be done, not what the consequences might be.

Fred came up behind Wesley, resting a hand on his back. "Is something wrong? You’ve been getting more and more tense since you told Angel about this ritual. What aren’t you telling him?"

"It’s nothing." Wes turned away from the preparations in the lobby, smiling at Fred. "Or it’s nothing to do with that." Wes waved a hand at the action in the lobby. "I just don’t like the power rush that comes from doing magic. It’s too easy to get caught up in it." He turned to look at Cordelia where she lay on the office sofa, still sleeping thanks to the drugs he’d given her.

"It wouldn’t hold you," Fred murmured, looking up into his troubled eyes. "I know you, Wesley. You wouldn’t let the magic control you or change you."

Wes reached out a hand, stroking her hair and her cheek, blushing slightly at her faith in him. "He let it control him," he murmured, stepping nearer and pulling her close, hiding his face in her hair and wrapping his arms around her waist. "That’s what started it. He got addicted to the power while he was Watcher to Lilka. She was nearly as good as Buffy as a Slayer, probably would have been that good if he hadn’t done what he did to her. "

Fred stiffened briefly when he tightened his hold on her, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax in his arms. "What did he do?"

Wes felt her tension, but knew he couldn’t face her when he told her this, told her what a bastard his father was. "My father broke one of the most sacred rules of the Council. He coerced the Slayer, bound her by blood and magic, using both to force her into his bed." He paused and drew in a breath. "Lilka died in childbirth because she spent the entire pregnancy fighting the binding he’d placed her."

"I don’t understand." Fred pulled back a bit, looking up into Wes’ anguished eyes. "You’re saying he used magic to force a Slayer to do something she didn’t want to?"

"Yes." Wes watched Fred, saw the disgust in her eyes, and nodded once. "My father wanted his Slayer, she loved someone else and he wasn’t going to lose." He shook his head. "So he bound her." Wes dropped his arms from around Fred, turning back to the lobby. "A Slayer is allowed to choose her own lover--that’s the Council’s law. They have such short lives that the Council doesn’t like to create problems. Up until recently, nearly every Slayer entered into some sort of relationship with her Watcher, most of them getting married. Father violated that rule by using magic. Then he got addicted to the power."

Fred watched Wes, watched him get tenser and tenser, until she regretted asking him the question. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked."

"No, you needed to know." Wes turned back to her, holding out a hand and hoping she’d take it. When she did, he pulled her to him, smiling at her. "The reason Father started in on us is very simple. The easiest ways to raise power are through death and sex. He used us, the children, to raise the power. After a while, it was also for himself, for his pleasure. Our terror just made him enjoy it more."

"Oh, Wesley," Fred whispered, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly for a moment. "I’m so sorry."

"It’s all right. I’m all right. Seeing Meggie again, then this with Cordelia…." Wes forced himself to relax. "It just brought it all back, that’s all."

Angel tapped on the doorframe, hating to have to interrupt them, but needing to tell Wesley that things were ready. "Wesley?" Angel waited for the other man to acknowledge him. "We’re ready."

Wes nodded once, turning back to Fred. "Stay here, you and Connor. No matter what, promise me you’ll stay here." He waited for her to nod before leaning in to kiss her, a soft, light kiss, before releasing her and turning to Angel. "Bring Cordelia. Let’s get this done."

*******

Wesley stood, his head bowed, in the center of the lobby in the center of the salt circle that he had Angel draw on the lobby floor. Behind him Angel sat with Cordelia cradled in his lap. Gunn had taken one look at what they were doing, snorted in discomfort and left, leaving the original members of Angel Investigations to handle this alone. Wesley raised his head, meeting Fred’s eyes through the glass in the office window, and mouthed to her, "I love you." He saw her smile and then put her out of his mind, along with his apprehensions, as he turned to Angel.

Wes’ eyes met Angel’s, saw that the vampire was as ready as he’d ever be, and nodded, drawing a deep breath before crossing the expanse of marble floor to face east, drawing the sword he carried and beginning the spell. "Saint Raphael, the Healer, Guardian of Wind and Tempest, may we be guarded and healed in mind, body and soul this night."

Wes felt the faint touch of a breeze in the confined space of the lobby, fought down the smile, and traced the partial circuit to his right to the south, where he stood for a moment, continuing the ritual. "Saint Michael, the Warrior, Commander of the Armies of Heaven, protect us in our hour of need."

Wes’ smile returned as he felt the heat of the power build, inclining his head in acknowledgement of it before continuing his circuit to the west, where again he paused, summoning the next of the guardians. "Saint Gabriel, the Herald, Angel of the Annunciation, carry our supplications to Our Blessed Lady."

A faint mist swirled around the floor, leaving a spattering of moisture on the marble tiles. Wesley gathered himself and the power he was channeling and continued to the north, to summon the last of the outer guardians. "Saint Uriel, Shadowed One, Dark Lord of the Earth, come gently, if you must, and let all fear die in within this place."

Again bowing his head, Wes turned, returning to the center of the circle he’d just cast and feeling the power gathering in both the room and in his soul. He shifted the sword, resting the tip of the blade on the floor between him and Angel. Keeping a tight rein on the power and the urge to use it for his own ends, he nodded once to Angel, waited for the vampire to close his eyes and relax before closing his own eyes, seeking the brilliance that was the vampire’s soul, chuckling in his mind as he saw how it was wrapped around the dimmer light of Cordelia’s.

Drawing a breath, Wes gathered them to him, feeling the warmth that was Cordelia, the gentle laughter that was Angel, and reached farther into the darkness for the Powers that they sought. He knew the signs, the words of admittance and soon stood within a space he had not seen in many years: the Halls of Judgment. He sensed the presence long before it manifested, appearing as a shimmer of light before him.

Dark forces gather, Watcher. Do you seek our aid?

"No, High One. I have come at the request of my family, to seek aid for the sister of my soul." Wesley allowed his heart to guide him, to dictate what he said, and smiled, for Cordelia was more of a sister to him than those of his blood.

Explain.

"She is mortal, yet carries the gift of Sight, aiding us. The visions are killing her and her pain torments your Champion. He has come as well to plead on her behalf, an easing of her pain, so that she may continue in her mission."

Bring him before us.

Wesley shifted, tugging the last little bit on Angel and Cordelia, bringing them into the room. Cordelia still slept, the drugs affecting her even here, and was cradled in Angel’s arms like a child, or a much loved companion. Wes watched Angel take in the scene and the sense of Presence, saw the vampire wanted to kneel, yet didn’t know what to do.

Be at peace, Champion. It is not in us to be pleased with subservience. Your petition is known to us, yet comes not without a price. Our Watcher has claimed you as family, yet you deny these ties, fear them. We would know why.

Angel cast a sidelong glance at Wesley who merely waited with a raised eyebrow. Sighing, Angel looked down at the woman he held, thought of the woman and child who waited and worried for all of them, and finally of the man who’d brought him here, at a risk that he wouldn’t even name. Finally, quietly, he spoke. "I have been alone for a long time. I fear that enemies from my past, those who would seek to rouse Angelus, would harm any who have ties to me. So I keep them away, despite what my heart tells me to do, gather them close and enjoy every minute of their presence, for their lives are short in comparison to my own. " Angel paused and drew a breath he didn’t really need. "I fear that when they are gone I will be lost in an even deeper despair than that which held me for eighty years. Yet I cannot let them go. I sent them away once and the evil that hides in my soul nearly came free, so I keep them near, but at arms’ reach, to keep both that evil and the demon caged."

Your reasons are noble, if misguided. There was a sense of laughter and Wesley smiled again in response to it. We would grant your request, if you will pay the cost. Angel nodded, waiting, knowing that this Power wasn’t finished yet. The first has already been paid, for you gave the child over to the care of our Watcher. He will raise him, yet you will guard him.

In the pause that followed, Angel nodded again. "Yes. But I had planned on guarding both children."

We know. The second is much harder. The demon that lives within you has decided our Seer is its mate. You have come to love her. Neither of you will make a move toward her. Never may you speak of your feelings, your wants and desires. She must ask you first. Only then may you offer her that position, pleasing your soul and your demon.

Angel tensed, tightening his hold on Cordelia. He didn’t know if he could do it, be around her everyday and never speak a word of what he had come to know: that he loved her, desired her, wanted her with him in every way. The demon rebelled at the thought of not having her, but Angel had to only think of the curse, the knowledge of what would happen to Wesley, Fred and Connor to know that he could manage this. Again, he nodded.

Then hear the last we would ask of you. You must make the decision for her. The Seer cannot remain a mortal--no seer can. She is at a crossroads: to remain mortal, soon to die, or to become otherwise. What would you ask of us?

Angel stared at the shimmer of light that was the manifestation of the Powers, sensing that this was a test, a very important test, one in which the wrong answer would deny them everything that they hoped for. Yet, he couldn’t do it, couldn’t condemn his Cordelia to a constant battle with a demon. He turned his head, looking at Wesley and saw that Wes trusted him with this, and nodded once, shifting to lay Cordelia on the floor of the hall. "I can’t condemn her to the constant battle with darkness that I have. I would rather she die now, in her sleep without any pain, than have to deal with that. That kind of decision isn’t for me to make."

Wesley, more sensitive to the energy in this place, sensed the surge of triumph that was quickly suppressed and raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say a thing. Instead he watched Angel who was watching Cordelia, as if to memorize her completely, to hold that memory with him always.

Watcher, beware the darkness, lest you and yours fall prey to its temptations. We will see you again, soon, when you bring another before us. Champion, remember our agreement.

The was a flare of light accompanied by a sense of falling, then Wesley opened his eyes, meeting Angel’s shocked ones where the other man still sat on the floor. "Wesley. She’s alive."

Cordelia whimpered, shifting slightly, and wondered who was holding her. Blinking, she yawned and stretched, her eyes meeting Angel’s dark ones. "What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"We thought we had," Wes answered for Angel, causing Cordelia to turn toward him. "We really thought we had." When she started to say something, Wesley shook his head, resting both hands on the sword and melding the energies he had summoned into a small, simple spell to guard the hotel, protecting those within it. When he’d finished, he murmured quietly, "These rites have now ended. We thank you for your protection and guardianship. Farewell, bright ones." He knew when the circle had dissipated, leaving only the sketching of salt on the floor. Shifting the sword to rest in the crook of his arm, he half-turned to look for Fred, who was still watching through the glass. He smiled at her, saw her relief and looked back at Cordy, offering her a hand to help her up from the floor, Angel climbing to his feet a moment later.

"Wesley?" Cordelia sounded a bit puzzled, and then shook her head. "That was strange. It didn’t hurt."

"What didn’t?" Angel asked, following along behind as Cordy followed Wesley to the office.

Wesley opened the door, stepping inside to settle on the sofa with Fred, who was again feeding Connor. He looked up as Cordy came in, picking her way around the desk to settle in the desk chair. "What didn’t hurt?"

"The vision," she replied, puzzled, looking between Angel and Wesley, the two men sharing a look of triumph. "What did you two do?"

"Tell us the vision, Cordy, then we’ll tell you," Wesley asked in response.

"Oh." Cordy tried to glare at him, failed miserably and settled on smiling instead. "Well, it seemed kind of like a personal message. I’m supposed to tell you that ‘they don’t know everything. Remember the Seelie.’"

Wesley stared, his eyes narrowing, before he started to laugh, turning a bit of a disconcerted look at Angel. "We assumed and fell for it."

"But it worked," Angel replied from the corner armchair where he’d taken a seat. He looked around the room at his family. Now that he’d been forced to acknowledge it, he could see the relationships, at least how they stood now. Cordelia, the know-it-all sister; Wesley, the studious one, the brother who in his day would have been the vicar; Fred, the quiet, mousy one, the shy and retiring sister-in-law; and Gunn, who’d just returned with food, the rash and impulsive younger brother.

"So, how’d it go?" Gunn asked, setting the boxes and bags he held on the desktop. "And who wants food?"