This is the prequel to Glacier. These thoughts came to mind while writing that so I hope it is worth it. I couldn’t let my heroes fade away so this begins in the alley as Angel says

“ Let’s go to work!”

His arms and legs ached; his body was a mass of bruising that was rapidly healing. He blinked through the rain that washed away the gore from his face and hair and for that he was grateful. The cooling blood of Marcus Hamilton and Drogyn held him in good stead. He was immortal with the invincibility of a child of The Senior Partners. The Universe had given him another break when he drank Marcus down. Not only had he been stronger than the liaison and able to take him out, he was now able to confront the hordes of demons crushing against each other to take him and the last of his team to Hell. They would pay dearly for the privilege.

Although bloody and beaten from his fight inside Wolfram and Hart he was ready for this next and maybe last confrontation. He whirled through the smaller advance party dismembering as he went, Illyria and Spike directly behind him. Charles Gunn wounded as he was maintained the rear with courage; his bald head bobbing as he fought, there were plenty of demons to go round.

Spike gaped as his elder ripped the demons to shreds in mere moments. How had the old man gotten so fast and so strong?

“Oi! How about leaving some for the rest of us!” he shouted.

“There are many enemies for you to kill half breed. I will leave you some.”

Illyria leapt over the steaming carcasses left by Angel and stormed through a fresh onslaught. Her fists and feet could have been forged in steel for all the heads and limbs of her enemies that lay scattered in her wake.

“Come on Spike!” Angel roared as he swung his blade. “What are you waiting for?”

“Not you, you bloody poof!” Spike ducked and retrieved a fallen weapon. He curved under and up and impaled the tusked grey whatever it was that was about to decapitate him.

“Nice try!” and he was onto the next his leather coat splattered with gore.

Gunn’s wound was throbbing but he didn’t notice. He swung his axe and sheared off the arm of an ugly horned monster that had sidestepped Spike. He kept close to the wall, Spike was in front to his right and Illyria and Angel were somewhere he couldn’t see. He couldn’t think about that. They were about to die, hell he probably was already dead, he just didn’t know it yet. He was weakening but still standing and he would be damned if some ugly assed demon was going to finish him off without a fight. Tentacles made a grab at him and he lopped off a few before Spike stabbed the creature in the eye.

“Thanks,” he grunted as another approached.

“Anytime mate.”

Somehow another vampire had wedged himself in Gunn’s world and had saved his life. He groaned when an armoured demon flew at him and bounced him against the wall. It lifted its head and Gunn saw an opportunity and sliced the head from the neck.

“The armour needs to come all the way up,” he quipped as it fell in two pieces. The head rolled away.

A roar overhead and the rush of wings announced the flight of the dragon. Time seemed to stand still as every head turned upwards as the huge beast circled looking for someone to set its wicked looking talons into to. It flew down closer to the ground ready to strike its maw opening wide. As it charged by Angel threw the large spear he had snatched up in readiness. The other demons seemed to step back as it waited for the killing blow. The blow did not come from the dragon but from the vampire, his supernatural strength sent the spear flying fast and true and it found its mark.

“Nice of you to bring the weapons,” he muttered as the spear hit the dragon’s oversized underbelly.

He was too busy defending his position as demons leaped at him in dismay to watch it fall from the air. He heard the screech and roar of pain as it tumbled earthwards and he yelled at his crew.

“Incoming!”

Angel kicked his opponent back and threw his weight up against the wall and hoped that Gunn and Spike followed suit. Illyria kept on doing what she was made to do. Kill, destroy and decimate her enemies was all she was interested in.

“This is not making the grief go away!” She moaned to anyone that wanted to hear. She stomped a head into the ground. This human emotion wouldn’t do!

The dragon crashed into the roof of a building that ran along the alley before toppling into the ground below. Parts of the roof and wall came with it showering the dying dragon with brick and mortar. Angel ran over the dead and up and onto the flailing dragon. He raised his sword and looked into the golden eye of the dragon. He had to remind himself that this was a demon from Hell not a mythical creature from the story books. The eye was glazed with pain so he was merciful and pierced the eye sending his sword into its brain.

The rain fell heavier and Angel could hear sirens in the distance. How long had they been fighting? He looked for his friends. Gunn was still standing, barely; Spike was laughing and taunting and Illyria moved ready for more killing.

“Fall back!” he shouted.

The demon horde stood back uncertain as they realized that their prey was decimating their numbers. The fall of the dragon had been unexpected and so they paused. When they saw the sword end its life Angel had hoped that they would get this far and had planned for such.

“What?” Spike was always difficult when it came to taking orders. He stopped as he realized that he had no one to kill. He looked about, took in the pause in the fighting and at Angel scrambling away.

“Oh!” He ran back calling for Illyria. “New plan Blue!”

The Old One turned her head. Illyria recognized a new strategy was underway and left her killing field and ran over her victims to rejoin the vampires and the human.

Angel reached for Gunn and helped him over the dragon. Spike and Illyria followed.

“What have you got in mind?” Spike knew Angel and knew that Angel was Angelus all said and done. Angelus always had some wicked plan up his sleeve in cases of emergency, or just when it suited him.

Angel handed Gunn over to Spike. “Take care of him.”

Gunn protested weakly and tried to wriggle out of Spike’s grip. He wasn’t successful and Spike just tightened his hold.

“I don’t want to go. I can still fight.” He lifted the axe that he was still gripping and tried to threaten Spike with it but the vampire ignored him.

Angel was watching the demons gathering. The thing with demons was that for the most part they weren’t very smart. Kill and destroy were their main worry, nothing else mattered. This army had sent in the smaller quicker troops, thinking that was all that would be needed. That and the dragon. The several large demons that would have done the most damage were standing at the end of the line. They were now going to charge in, in full force. He had been counting on that.

“We’re all going.” He turned his gore spattered face to reassure Gunn.

Illyria shifted her jewel like eyes from the army to his.

“Plan B” he smirked.

Spike snorted and pulled Gunn’s arm over his shoulder. “It had better be good.”

“I want to draw them all into the alley. Let’s go.” He led them down to the fence as far as he could go. The dragon lay a few feet away a large shield between them and their death.

Reassured that indeed the demons were moving forward Angel ducked into the small alcove tucked under the window of the building.

As he rummaged through the trash that was gathered there Gunn spoke up.

“Angel?”

A cardboard box, pizza, a plastic bottle or two and a wooden crate came crashing out over Angel’s shoulder.

“He’s gone bonkers. I knew the old bastard was loony but...” Spike paused when Angel came back with something in his hand. “Is that what I think it is?” He looked from the small box to Angel’s face. The grin there confirmed it.

“A detonator?” he finished.

“A bit louder Spike I don’t think they heard you.” Gunn was grinning along with Angel, Spike’s smile joined theirs and Illyria cocked her head.

“What is A Detonator?”

“Shhh!” Spike shushed the demon God King and realized perhaps it wasn’t the brightest thing to do. Oh well; he shrugged it off.

Illyria fixed her glare on the bleached blonde.

“It’s a bomb,” he whispered. “You do know what a bomb is?”

“I have access to the shell’s memories.” She was quiet for a brief moment. “Yes.”

The sirens were getting close. The demon horde was closer.

“When?” Spike began to ask but Angel barked “Get Gunn out of here. Over the fence. Illyria!”

Angel turned and brought his sword up. He put his left hand in his pocket. Spike handed Gunn to Illyria who picked him up and cradled him as if he was a child. Spike leaped up and over the fence and landed lightly on his feet. He held out his arms and Illyria threw Gunn up and he cleared the fence and into Spike’s waiting arms.

Gunn bit his lip to keep the moan of pain in as he jolted into Spike’s body. He didn’t protest when Spike ran a few feet from the fence before he was let down. Upright he and Spike could see Angel and Illyria waiting on the other side. It looked as if the hordes of Hell were going to trample them down.

Angel and Illyria waited until the last possible moment. The demons in front started to clamber over the dragon’s carcass the rest of the army squeezed together in their eagerness to kill the Senior Partners sworn enemies.

“Now!” Angel roared and Illyria followed him over the fence.

The inhuman roar that bellowed behind them informed Angel that the demons were diving after them. As their feet touched concrete he depressed the button in his hand. The blast sundered the air and Angel and Illyria were blown from their feet down the small narrow lane to where Spike and Gunn were hugging the pavement. Angel rolled several feet with the God King before coming to rest between the buildings.

“Run!” He gasped to the others uselessly but somehow they understood. His friends lurched to their feet as the sky began to fall. Painfully they staggered forward unable to hear anything above a roar. Pieces of demon flesh rained down along with glass and twisted steel and concrete.

They came to the sewer entrance and Angel lifted it easily from its rest. They paused to look upon the inferno that was the alley behind them. Flames and dust and smoke filled the air and the four could smell cooked flesh. Gunn flinched as something flew by and then grunted when he was hit with falling debris. It certainly looked as if Hell was on Earth and The Four Horsemen were riding this night. Angel hurried them down into sewers as another detonation rent the air. The ground shuddered once more and he hoped that the tunnels were holding up. As he disappeared below he took one last look at what was once the demon horde of the Senior Partners. He grunted when through the inferno there was no sign of anything standing. He couldn’t think about the innocent humans that could have been killed in the blast. He had picked the alley because it bordered the Hyperion and several other buildings that were derelict. He knew though that best laid plans tended to incur casualties. He had to harden his heart. He clambered down.

At the bottom of the well his comrades had moved away to safety and he followed in the only direction they had. Behind him the tunnels were collapsing the smell of dust and smoke reached his nose as he departed. He caught them at the next bend; Gunn was resting beside Spike his axe up against the wall.

“Gunn?” Angel hovered over his friend taking a careful look at him. He was pale for a black man and Angel could smell the wound. It wasn’t pretty.

Gunn opened pain filled eyes. He wet his lips that were suddenly dry. “Are we dead yet?”

Angel’s hearing was returning fast and he hoped that the human’s ears would recover.

He smiled at his wounded friend. “No, but you will be if we don’t get you to a hospital.”

Gunn shook his head weakly, Angel sounded very far away. “Hospital? No hospital…I know someone…. other side of town.”

“This is more serious than knowing someone with medical knowledge. It’ll have to be a hospital and soon.”

Without further ado he lifted Gunn easily, the man’s head on his shoulder supported by Angel’s arm and his legs supported by Angel’s left.

“Illyria, Gunn’s axe if you wouldn’t mind?”

Spike moved away and Illyria followed axe in hand. Angel felt Gunn relax into him and realized that his friend had passed out.

“Can we risk a hospital?” Spike asked from up front.

“We have to, he’ll die otherwise.” He noticed Spike limping for the first time.

“Are you hurt?”

Spike was surprised. Angel actually asked after his well being. Wonders will never cease.

“I’ll heal. Some of it was taking out the Brethren.” He touched his ribs. The bruising was a bitch but he was a vamp and it was nothing.

Spike thought a moment. “You?”

Angel really hadn’t expected Spike to ask about his health in return so he hesitated.

Finally he said, “Hamilton did some damage.”

“You took out Hamilton? Oh I would have paid money to see that.” Spike turned to look his grand sire over.

Angel knew the turn in the sewer. “The left.” He instructed. “Hurry!”

Illyria spoke. “I hope you ground his brains into the ground. That you stomped his entrails into a bloody smear and splintered his bones into dust.”

The three demons picked up the pace, Gunn slept on oblivious against Angel’s chest.

“We beat each other or rather he beat me, I drained him and then beat him to a pulp and snapped his neck. We kinda destroyed the offices though.”

“What?” Spike was incredulous. “You drained him and then beat him? What happened to draining resulting in dying? How come you had to snap his neck?”

“Child of the Senior Partners. It seems he had the Immortality card.”

“And when you drained him...” the light dawned on Spike.

“Quite a rush,” Angel finished for him.

“I am pleased that that piece of excrement is dealt a punishing death. More would have been better.”

“Whatever pet.” Spike rolled his eyes at Illyria, thinking about Angel’s fight with Hamilton. No wonder Peaches seemed faster and stronger. He wondered how the blood would have tasted. Was it like slayer’s blood? He shook his head guiltily. Those thoughts were of the old Spike, he had a soul now, he couldn’t think like that but he couldn’t help himself.

“Up here!” Angel ordered after it seemed like an eternity of trudging the dark slimy sewer.

Without protest Spike hauled his ass up the ladder before him. Angel really knew his way around. At the top he carefully slid the cover a few inches and could see the road was clear. He turned in a circle and saw that they were in a small by road that finished in a dead end. He pushed the cover away hard and climbed out. Illyria followed and Angel surfaced with Gunn slung over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. Spike eased the wounded man off Angel and allowed the older vampire to climb all the way to the street.

Angel surveyed the area and was satisfied that it was safe. “Get a car, no” he amended, “a van.”

Spike would have protested the taking of orders but he handed Gunn over to Angel and sauntered off down the road. Stealing cars was a specialty of his, he was glad to oblige.

Angel eased Gunn onto the pavement and squatted beside him. Sirens wailed in the distance and he could make out the throb of a helicopter or two. He knew the authorities were already rushing to the scene. He imagined the emergency crews and police and ambulance and he hoped the National Guard. The government will have anti terrorist units on the way; they will be thinking a bomb attack at the very least. Won’t they be surprised at finding demon body parts he thought? He wondered if the fire would erase the evidence and if not what explanation would they give the public?

Illyria who was standing out in the road watching for Spike spoke. “The human won’t last long.”

Angel glanced at his friend. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow. He listened to the heart and it was steady.

“No, he’ll make it.” Please he prayed.

Something flashed across Illyria’s face, something new. “Do you wish it?”

Angel considered her. Could the Demon God King be concerned? “I wish it.”

“As do I.” She turned her head away. “It did not help Wesley.”

“No.” His answer contained all the grief at the loss of another friend. He pushed the welling emotions down to drown in later.

Illyria had told them Vail was dead but he needed to know the details. He couldn’t deal with it right now and he thought that Illyria couldn’t either. Wesley had been right, Illyria can be an asset. Although she appeared outwardly calm he had heard the words of grief and seen the flow of tears earlier. Could the Demon King learn to be a little human, learn compassion?

The screech of tyres interrupted Angel’s thoughts. It was Spike careening around the corner and up to where they waited. He had stolen a van, not unlike the one that Oz had driven into the warehouse to save him from Spike and his torturer many years ago. It seemed an age now.

Angel gathered up Charles Gunn as the vampire slid out of the driver’s seat and around to open the side door.

“Your carriage awaits,” he said with a flourish.

Angel climbed into the back and gently deposited Gunn onto the floor. As he sat propped up against the side his sword poked him in the back. He sat forward and released his scabbard from inside his coat and lay his weapon down. Illyria climbed in beside him and Spike closed the door. It was a relief to get out of the rain and to finally sit. The van rocked slightly as Spike got in and slammed the door.

“Where to?” he asked looking over his shoulder at Angel. There was no point looking at the rearview mirror he would only see Illyria and Gunn in the back. Illyria was peering through the small back windows watching their backs.

“Eastside as far away as possible. The hospitals close by may be filling up with casualties. They will be looking for us amongst those.” He closed his eyes. The only one they would be looking for at a hospital will be Charles Gunn. Vampires such as he and Spike would be either dust or walking wounded. He couldn’t imagine Illyria as ever needing medical attention.

Spike started the van and made a U turn. He entered the main stream of traffic which all seemed to be screaming towards the Hyperion and drove in the other direction.

Spike was quiet for a minute or two. “There may not be any casualties,” he said at last.

Angel was silent. Spike made another turn and passed a slow wagon full of teens.

He tried again. “It couldn’t be helped.”

Still no response. Spike could feel the guilt rolling off his elder.

Spike used his horn as another vehicle cut him off and sped up after it.

“Slow down, we can’t have the cops stop us.”

Spike eased off the gas. Angel was right they couldn’t be caught in a stolen vehicle let alone with a wounded man on board.

“Brilliant plan that. You always have something up your sleeve.” Spike’s attempt at complimenting Angel was met with incredulous silence. Spike couldn’t believe that he cared about Angel and his feelings. How had this happened?

Illyria commented from her view at the back. “A good leader has to consider all contingencies no matter the cost.”

“I didn’t think we were going to make it out alive but here we are!” Spike grinned and his foot fell heavier on the gas. He thumped the steering wheel.

“It’s good to be alive or un dead mate.”

“Spike!” and Spike eased off the pedal again.

“You’re no fun,” he grumbled. This is what he got when he tried to cheer the old man up.

Spike drove sedately through the city, stopping at the red signals and obeying every stop and give way sign with exaggerated care. Soon the city gave way to the suburbs and smaller satellite towns. Inside the van Angel’s brooding had brought Spike’s mood down and the quiet was only broken by engine noise.

Angel popped his head up startling the other vampire. He peered through the windscreen to see an unfamiliar neighbourhood.

“Look for a hospital. We need to stop.” Angel glanced at Spike and saw that the cuts to his face and head were healing. He reached up and felt his own face and felt the wounds there scabbing over.

Angel turned to Illyria in the back. “Illyria, could you do something for me?”

The demon God King turned her head.

The van lurched suddenly and Angel had to brace his back against the driver’s seat. He placed his legs on either side of his unconscious friend to stop him from sliding.

“Spike and I cannot go into the hospital looking like this. Can you take on Fred’s persona and make sure that Gunn gets into the emergency room?”

Illyria’s jewel like eyes contemplated his and then scrutinized his wounded partner. She looked back up at his.

The blue hair and eyes faded and transformed into the young southern belle that Angel had been so fond of. The red leather became jeans and a patterned cotton shirt. Brown eyes now looked out at him.

“Thank you.” The van lurched again and he cursed softly. “Spike!”

“You want me to find a bloody hospital? Let me drive and shut up!” Spike ground out.

Nothing was good enough for tall dark and gloomy! He saw an Emergency sign and slammed on the brakes. His passengers lurched forward and then he spun the wheel and made a right sending them sliding about. Angel pressed his lips together to stop from growling at the other vampire and did his best to make sure that Gunn was comfortable.

The van screeched to a halt, Spike declaring unnecessarily, “We’re here!”

Gunn groaned and Angel leaned over him. “You have to wake up Gunn.” He tapped the man on his shoulder. Gunn groaned again. Angel pulled the human up into a sitting position as Spike opened the door. Illyria scrambled out and Spike did a double take.

“Never get used to that,” he muttered as he turned back to help Gunn out of the van.

Angel was talking to Gunn but looking at Illyria/Fred. “He had an accident. Fell in the kitchen on some spilt oil and onto the knife he was holding. Gunn did you hear me?” Angel shook Charles carefully.

“Uhh.”

“And his name is Charlie, “Angel had to think, “Jones and you are a friend.”

Spike reached for Gunn and chuckled as Angel handed him over. “Jones, yeah that’s original.”

“What?” The other vampire asked but Spike refused to elaborate.

Spike supported Gunn as his legs hit the concrete and he wobbled about ready to fall. Angel was suddenly there holding him up from the other side giving Spike an exasperated look. Spike just smirked at him annoying Angel even more.

They maneuvered Gunn until Illyria had him upright and Angel sprinted for the emergency door. The door opened automatically and he ducked inside coming back a second later pushing a stretcher. They placed Gunn onto the trolley and pointed Illyria in the right direction. She looked back at them as she neared the entrance but then a couple of medics appeared from within the hospital and she disappeared inside.

The two vampires watched them go.

Angel was the first to speak. “We have to get rid of the van.”

“Now?”

“No, I think the authorities will be busy enough back in the city to bother about a stolen vehicle. But when we move on yeah.” Angel climbed back into the van and stretched out.

Spike dared to recline next to him and they both sat in companionable silence. The silence lasted a minute as Spike couldn’t stay quiet for long.

“So. We’re staying together?”

Angel knew the answer to that. “We can’t.”

“But we are moving on?” Spike had his eyes closed.

Angel was keeping an eye on the open door. He leaned over Spike and closed it. When he had settled back down he answered the question.

“We make sure that Gunn is going to be alright and then we split up.”

Spike opened one eye to look at his grand sire but Angel had his eyes closed. The Poof looked dreadful. His hair was half dry and beginning to stick out in all directions and his face was bruised and cut although healing. He certainly was not the picture of fashion that he usually was. His clothes were tattered and damp and Spike knew that he must look in a similar state. He wondered if the other vampire had taken wounds on his body, his clothes certainly suggested it.

“Someone had better keep an eye on Blue.”

Angel’s mouth barely moved. “Are you offering?”

“Yeah, I am.” Spike had built a rapport with the Old One. “She likes me.”

Angel doubted that. “She does like to hit you.”

“That’s what I mean, she likes me.”

They lapsed into silence after that. Angel couldn’t remember when he fell asleep but he jolted awake in a slight panic. He sat up trying not to wake the sleeping vampire beside him and chided himself for his lack of stamina. Hamilton’s blood had been powerful and still he had succumbed to exhaustion. The Senior Partners could have sent someone after them and they would have been caught napping, literally. He carefully navigated the front seat until he was sitting behind the wheel. He could keep watch from there.

Spike felt Angel move into the front seat and knew that the old sod was going to sit there and brood over every little thing. He had to hand it to the old boy though, he had balls. To take on The Senior Partners and still be standing? Spike had been willing to go to his final death, what else was he to do. Buffy didn’t want him and he had felt adrift in the world until Angel had grudgingly let him into his little gang. He had never been more surprised than when Angel had taken a stake for him back when Illyria had tried to off them all. He shook himself; he was beginning to act like Angel, brooding into the night. He settled down for another nap.

Angel reached for the radio and it burst into breaking news on the suspected terrorist attack in Los Angeles. Spike sat up in interest.

“Looks like we made the news,” he said as he climbed into the passenger seat beside Angel.

Angel just nodded intent on the information filtering through. As usual there were varying reports and theories on what had really happened in the alley. The fire crews were battling several buildings ablaze, others had fallen with the explosions. The government had sent in Special Forces and emergency workers were busy with the injured and dying. Angel flinched at that.

“Couldn’t be helped.” Spike offered again.

“I know,” Angel whispered.

It was true but it didn’t make him feel any better. People had died, were dying because of his actions. He knew that if The Apocalypse had been allowed to go unchecked then the people in this world would be doomed, dead or worse. If they hadn’t taken out the demons The Senior Partners had unleashed then many more people would have been hurt while they were hunted down. At least the hospitals were coping. The area surrounding the alley contained warehouses and empty buildings, his sad beautiful hotel and a few businesses. Depending on how extensive the damage he had hoped that ordinary folk escaped harm. Apparently not according to reports, there were casualties. His gloom deepened. He tried to hold it at bay by planning their next move. Angel refused to think about the people he had lost; the well of grief ran deep.

Spike listened; allowing Angel his remorse. Spike didn’t feel that way; hell he was happy to be alive or whatever. Sure he was sorry about the humans but that was all. His soul wasn’t at all like his grandsire’s.

Angel switched off the radio when he noticed Illyria approach from the hospital. She got into the back and closed the door.

“His wounds have been attended to and he has been transferred to Ward Five. It is on the floor above the ground.”

It was very strange to hear Illyria speak when she was in Winifred Burkle’s form. Angel was grateful that she didn’t sound like Fred because that would have been too much.

“He will live?” Angel asked her.

“He will live.”

“Did they buy your story?”

Illyria regarded the dark haired vampire. She tilted her head her brown hair cascaded over her thin face. “Buy?”

“Did they believe you? Have they called the police?”

“No. They are gullible creatures these humans. They did not question my ‘story.’”

“Humans are like that pet,” Spike agreed. “So what now?” Spike wished for a cigarette.

“Illyria, you go back and sit in the waiting room. Watch for trouble; of any kind. Spike, you and I are going to steal another van.” Angel turned the key starting the vehicle.

“Can I kill the things that cause this trouble?” Illyria asked as she exited the van.

Angel sighed and opened his door. “Spike you go and bring back another van. Dump this one in a different area than the one you steal. I’ll keep an eye on Illyria.” He got out.

Spike shifted across to Angel’s seat. “How are you going to do that looking like you do?”

“I’ll lurk.” And he was gone fading into the night after Illyria.

Spike drove off leaving Angel lurking in the dark just outside the doors and windows of the small hospital. This was something he was good at although right now Angel really wanted to be dry and in bed preferably with a pint or two of blood. A century or two of sleep would be welcome right now but he knew that this was only the beginning. He shrank back as a couple exited the hospital, the vampire becoming invisible in the night. He peered past the glass to see Illyria sitting demurely on a plastic chair. If only the humans inside had any idea of the sort of creature that sat amongst them. He sat amongst humans and felt like a monster, he wondered if Illyria felt that way. He peeked at her again. Probably not, they were the muck beneath her feet, the ooze….Angel swallowed a lump that was forming in his throat. Memories of Illyria in the early days fluttered on the wings of remorse. Handsome man hadn’t saved Fred from the monsters. She had in fact been hollowed out and a monster had moved in.

Illyria sat in the centre of her being. She remained as still as stone; she had no need to fidget or gaze at pictures or written words. Her eyes observed though, catalogued the behaviour of all around. A small human approached and grimaced at her.

“Are you hurt lady?” it asked.

Illyria searched the memories that the shell Winifred left behind. She found the appropriate response.

“No. I am waiting for a friend.”

“Is your friend hurt bad?” It wouldn’t desist.

“He will be fine.” Her eyes lifted from the small face.

“What’s h...?”

A female swooped in and grabbed hold of the small human. The female smiled at her. “I’m sorry if Eddie is bothering you.”

Illyria tried on a smile and looked somewhere else. It seemed to work because the female and child went away.

The God King watched and waited. It knew that outside this box the half breed watched and waited also.

Rain had begun to fall and Angel was once again wet and cold, or as cold as his dead body could get. He never really felt the cold but he did enjoy the warmth of a fire, or sunlight through necro tempered glass. The fiery touch of a human was something he craved but could not have. His temper was short when Spike finally turned into the car park in the newly stolen van. Oh good; it had Save the Whales written all over it.

Angel took another peek into the waiting room and ambled back to their transport.

He pulled his tired body into the front seat. “You couldn’t find something with a target painted on it?” He snapped not really caring for a reply.

Spike of course couldn’t let that one go. “I did but I knew that Saving the Whales was right up your alley.”

Angel bit back his retort. Spike had found a van and he should be grateful. He stared determinedly out the windscreen.

Spike waited for a comeback and there was none forthcoming. So he said, “How long do we wait?”

Angel didn’t bother to turn his head. “We’ll go in at two. That’ll give Gunn some time to settle and time enough that we can be elsewhere before dawn.”

Angel knew that the wards will be at their quietest in the middle of the night and there will be few people about to interrupt their surreptitious activities. Spike knew it too and accepted the plan with no argument.

Angel saw Illyria making her way across the car park. He got out as she neared, she didn’t seem to notice the rain.

“They insisted that I leave.” Illyria seemed indignant about that fact.

She climbed into Angel’s seat so the vampire climbed in behind her through the side door. He was grateful to be off his feet; and even more surprised to see his sword sitting there next to Gunn’s axe. Angel was slipping. His exhaustion made him forget his weapon, something Spike had rectified. He sighed and curled up on the floor and decided to let Spike take the first watch. He was asleep in moments.

Spike and Illyria sat without speaking; Illyria was still in human form. Spike was tired and wished that he too was in the back asleep. Spike rummaged about and came up with a crumpled pack of cigarettes. The cab smelled of smoke so he knew the owner had to have a stash somewhere. He smiled at Illyria and lit up.

“Why do you put fire in your mouth?”

“Because...” he couldn’t think of a reason so he blew smoke her way. Peaches must be well asleep because there weren’t any complaints.

Illyria was waiting. “Just because.” He took a big drag. He didn’t know why he smoked, it didn’t give him a kick, he was dead after all. Maybe because it looked cool, Spike was all about looking cool. He finished it off and flicked it to the floor.

Illyria was back to surveying the terrain so Spike leaned back and rested his eyes.

“Son of a bitch!”

Spike jolted upright in his seat rubbing his head. He glared at Angel through the rear view mirror but it was lost on his grandsire. The fact that Spike didn’t have a reflection was moot. Angel had smacked his head to awaken him and Spike resented that.

“I was just resting my eyes!” he complained.

Angel opened the door to climb out. “Time to go.”

Illyria was already standing by the van as Spike joined them. Did she ever sleep?

The hospital was pretty quiet as hospitals go. The emergency room was still alight and busy but the influx of patients had dropped off. This was a smaller community hospital serving the local area; the more serious cases were sent to the bigger city establishments. Angel sent Illyria in first to scout out the side entrance and they followed after she waved them inside. They took the stairwell to the upper floor managing to avoid meeting anyone.

The halls were quiet, the rooms dark as three non humans glided unseen through the shadows. They found Gunn in Ward 5; he was one of four in the room sleeping. Angel crept to his bed and clamped a pale hand over Gunn’s mouth. The man came awake slowly his eyes slightly glazed over.

Illyria had Gunn’s chart in her hand. Using the knowledge Fred had left her she announced, “They have used some form of narcotic. It is that tube they have inserted.” She indicated the needle that was taped to his arm.

Angel released Gunn’s mouth slowly. “Do you know me?” he whispered.

When Gunn nodded he continued. “You are going to be okay. We have to move you. Now. Do you understand?”

Gunn’s lips parted. “Okay,” he croaked.

Angel looked to where Spike was guarding the door. The blonde vampire nodded the all clear and Angel quickly pulled back the covers and scooped up his friend.

“Illyria, unhook the drip from the stand please.”

She did so and placed it on Gunn’s chest.

“Cover him up.”

Illyria was not used to taking orders; she did not like it but she was new to this world so allowed it.

With Gunn safe in his arms they left the three sleeping men undisturbed and quickly made their way to the stairs.

“Sorry I couldn’t use a wheel chair.”

Gunn felt weightless in the vampire’s arms. He giggled slightly. Maybe Angel could carry him everywhere; it was easier than walking he felt like he was floating.

Spike held the door open and Angel followed Illyria out past unsuspecting medics to the car park. He carefully placed Gunn on the floor.

“Sorry about the lack of bedding.” He was sorry for all of it. Angel pulled off his tattered coat and placed it under the black man’s head. He readjusted the drip and covered him up with the blanket.

He looked about to discover they had lost Spike. “Where’s Spike?”

Illyria stated. “He is coming.”

Sure enough when Angel looked over the windscreen he saw Spike sauntering towards them. Angel got out of the van and into the driver’s seat. He had had enough of Spike’s wild driving, he would do some himself. Illyria settled down beside Charles Gunn as Spike climbed back into the passenger seat.

“Where have you…?” Angel broke off; his anger waylaid when a bag of blood landed in his lap. He narrowed his eyes at the other vampire.

“You raided the blood bank?”

Spike smirked as he bit a hole in the bag. The smell of human blood although stale hit Angel. He was hungry. He had managed to ignore the smell of the blood leaking out of his friend because Gunn was a friend and he didn’t drink humans anymore. Now it was safe packaged blood he could let the hunger in.

“It’s human.” His last attempt to refuse such a boon.

“So what? We need it, we didn’t kill anyone for it and besides we earned it.” Spike sucked the ripped bag into his mouth and guzzled.

That did it for Angel. He couldn’t stop piercing the bag and tipping its contents down his throat. Human blood there was nothing sweeter. Unbidden came the sight and taste of Drogyn’s blood and he nearly gagged. Another warrior for the light killed by his hand and Drogyn had been a friend. He finished off the bag and threw it back at Spike. Being a friend of his meant certain death so wasn’t it fortuitous that he had nearly run out of friends? He started the vehicle and pulled out ignoring the sounds of protests coming from Spike.

“Where are we going?” Spike sputtered.

Angel didn’t know he just knew that they had to be on the move and as far away from Wolfram and Hart as possible.

Spike reached over to the radio and Angel smacked his hand.

“What was that for?” He rubbed it as if it had actually stung.

Angel tightened his lips and Spike subsided. He was only going for the music channel not the news. He sighed not caring if the dark haired vampire heard. They drove for a couple of hours before dawn threatened and then had the arduous task of finding shelter. Angel made a quick stop at a Seven Eleven to purchase food and water for Gunn; he would need rest and food to aid his recovery. Finally an abandoned warehouse presented the most likely safe haven the whole block of workshops appeared to be empty. After combing the streets of the local manufacturing district everyone was relieved to be inside and out of the rising sun.

Angel drove the van inside and Spike closed the bay doors. The remains of a furniture factory greeted the weary travelers as they surveyed their temporary home. Angel was pleased to note that there was enough discarded upholstery to make up a comfortable pallet for his wounded friend. He made up the bed in the back of the van knowing that it would be warmer for Gunn than out on the cold factory floor. When he was satisfied he shifted Charles across, the man smiling at him all the while.

“Get some sleep.” He whispered as he tucked the hospital blanket around the patient and reacquired his tattered coat.

“Okay.” Gunn’s eyes closed and he was away before Angel stepped from the van.

“He going to be okay?” Spike had commandeered a half finished armchair and was sprawled out in an untidy heap.

“Sure.” Angel hoped but uttered the word anyway.

“I’m not sure that you eat and sleep Illyria,” he addressed the blue demon, “but we do.”

Angel searched the remaining debris for something that resembled a comfortable seat. He came across two squabs and placed those together near the van with a view to the door. A heap of rubbish in a corner offered up foam filling and Angel chose that as a pillow. Spike watched with interest as Angel pulled his bed together out of trash before he rose and stripped off his damp leather coat. He draped it over a side mirror matching up Angel’s on the other side.

Illyria had walked the perimeter of the premises acquainting her person with the area. She had heard the words the vampire leader had uttered and it was now that she replied.

“I do not require this sleep as you call it.” Her head tilted. “You are dead and yet you require sleep?”

Spike was back on his chair. “No luv, we can go without sleep for awhile but there is no point in staying up in the day. We are creatures of the night so we sleep through the daylight hours.”

The demon God King considered this. “It is your mind that requires this sleep.”

From his place on his makeshift bed Angel spoke. “Mind and body.”

“I do not require sleep or sustenance.”

“What do you do?” Spike had his head back to gaze at the ceiling.

“I contemplate. This body desires no food nor do I require it.”

“How do you stay alert for want of better word?”

Angel listened to Illyria’s reply. He could hear the steady beat of Gunn’s heart a few feet away beneath her words.

“My power allows my body to exist. This shell is fueled by the very atoms in the air, in the substance that is this universe. Your feeble minds would not understand the mechanics of it.”

Angel was sure that a demon as powerful as Illyria, a demon who had been in control of time and other dimensions got her power from somewhere. Science or magicks or was it both?

“Well pet; you just won the first shift.” Spike tried to settle into a comfortable shape. It wasn’t working but he was too tired to care.

“First shift?”

“Guard duty. We sleep but you watch the door and keep a look out the window for any unwanted visitors.” Spike’s arm lazily lifted towards the rear window. It was back far enough to allow sunlight entrance without harming the vampires.

“I will guard your fragile bodies. Our enemies will not triumph.” Illyria stalked to the bay doors and stood ready. Her body stilled and she became one with her environment. Soon there was only the sound of a single being breathing.

Angel awoke a few hours later and noted that Illyria had moved to the window.

“I will take over the watch. Rest.” Illyria nodded at him and her body stilled again.

Angel blinked at her. Her alert state and resting state appeared identical. Illyria was a puzzle. He knew that vampires seemed strange to the few who knew that they existed; they were dead creatures after all. This demon God King was unique. He remembered what it was like to be unique. Now everyone was getting a soul. He sighed and rolled out of his makeshift bed.

Spike was sleeping, his pale features slack with slumber. The hours ticked on by.

Gunn was coming round bringing Angel into the van to see to him. The drip was almost empty so he gently pulled the needle out of his friend’s arm.

Gunn’s brown eyes were focused on his when he looked up. “Hey.”

Gunn’s eyes fluttered closed then opened again. “We’re not dead?” he croaked.

Angel smiled reassuringly. “No.”

Angel didn’t know it but Gunn didn’t like it when Angel smiled, it was quite scary.

“Where are we?” He struggled to sit up.

Angel was there with a strong arm and soon Gunn was propped up.

“Just outside of the city.”

Angel reached for a bottle of water and unscrewed the cap and put it in Gunn’s hand. Gunn sucked it down greedily. God he was thirsty!

“Are you hungry?” Angel was sitting back on his heels watching him carefully.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “But I need to pee.” He finished off the bottle and put it aside.

Angel backed out of the van and helped Gunn to gingerly climb out. “There’s a toilet next to the old office. It’s down the back.”

The vampire felt the tremble in his friend’s limbs so kept a firm hold as Charles found his legs. Suddenly Gunn stopped and looked down at himself.

“What am I wearing?” A hospital gown and no shoes obviously.

“Am I gaping?” Gunn pulled frantically at his gown hoping that his backside wasn’t hanging out for all to see.

A strong hand at his back grabbed a handful of gown. He glanced at the vampire expecting to see a smirk but Angel’s face was neutral, his eyes were watching Gunn’s feet. Feeling as weak as a kitten Gunn let Angel lead him around the van and towards the facilities.

Spike woke as they inched by. “Feeling better mate?” The vampire stretched his arms and got to his feet. He watched as Peaches maneuvered the human around the floor. Bloody mother hen he thought. Illyria had turned and was observing as well. They were all silent as Gunn laboured towards his goal. Thankful that Angel had shown him the door and left him to his privacy, Gunn leaned over the filthy bowl to steady himself.

Angel skirted the sun patch glowing through the window and paced as he waited. It was afternoon meaning they were trapped inside until sunset. Gunn emerged slowly from the bathroom and Angel was at his side in an instant. He walked the man back to Spike’s chair and asked if that was okay.

Gunn sat with a sigh of relief as Angel hovered.

“Give the man some air!” Spike commanded as he watched his once fearsome grandsire fussing.

Angel straightened and turned away. “Don’t light that!”

Spike cursed and put his cigarette in his pocket. “How’s the wound Charlie boy?” he asked stepping closer to Gunn.

Gunn squinted up at him. Angel was back before he could form a reply. A plastic bag dangled from one hand in the other was a bottle of juice. He thrust that at him.

“Uh, there are sandwiches and…” Angel peered into the bag, “fruit.”

Both vampires were looking at him with concern and Gunn couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out.

“What?” Angel cocked a brow.

Gunn shook his head and reached for the bag carefully holding back more laughter. “You guys.”

“About the clothes thing? We’ll go out after dark, find something for you.” Angel backed away giving his friend some space. Gunn was acting weird; maybe the drugs were still affecting him.

Spike sniffed loudly which was odd as he didn’t breathe. “I could do with some new duds.” He looked down at his thin body. His black clothing was a mess. He glanced over to Angel and his clothes were no better. “I think we could all do with some new gear.”

Gunn drank some juice and bit into the tomato sandwich with gusto. His stomach was starting to settle down with the intake of food. Chewing he raised his eyes to Spike who was now leaning against the side of the van. Angel he saw was pacing the perimeter stopping now and again to listen. He opened another cellophane wrapped sandwich and saw it was egg. Illyria startled him as he swallowed some egg.

“Hey Illyria, didn’t see you there.”

“You are not going to die, that is good.” Her blue jewel eyes stared at him.

“Uh thanks.”

Uncomfortable with her interest Gunn concentrated on his food wishing that she would move away.

Spike must have noticed because he jerked his head towards his pacing elder. “Blue could you go stop that?”

“Why?” Illyria looked at the pacing vampire and then back to Spike. “He is guarding our perimeter.”

Spike sighed. “Angel could you just stop!” he called.

In an even voice Angel replied though the pacing continued. “Louder Spike I don’t think Nevada heard you.”

“Is that where we’re going?” Gunn finished his meal and sipped more juice.

Angel disappeared into the van and was back with a blanket. He tucked it over Gunn’s legs before replying.

Spike snorted, “Bloody mother hen.”

Angel ignored him and answered Gunn’s question. “We have to split up; it’s too dangerous to stay together.”

Gunn had already figured that out but it was hard to hear all the same. “When?”

“Another night; if you’re feeling able. Not tonight though; you need to rest.”

“I’ll go and steal a car later; throw them off the scent.” Spike offered.

“I’ll handle the clothing and supplies. Illyria will you stay and watch Charles?”

“Hey! I can look after myself.”

Illyria inclined her head for a moment. “Your ambulatory skills are to be desired. I will stay. Our enemies will come to their doom when they dare to confront me; Illyria God King of the Universe.”

A long pause before Gunn could reply. Even the vampires were silent. “Oookay?”

Angel hesitated before asking. “Can we have a look at your wound?”

Spike took the half empty juice as Gunn shifted painfully on his seat trying to adjust his gown to allow easy access to his wound. Charles watched anxiously as Angel’s long pale fingers peeled away the dressing.

Angel breathed a sigh of relief. The wound appeared to be healing nicely and he couldn’t smell any corruption. Angel had seen enough wounds in his time, hell he had caused most of them, to know a thing or two about healing; or not. He carefully replaced the dressing and smoothed over the tape.

“It seems to be healing; I will get some more dressings later.” Feeling awkward now he stepped back to let Gunn sort his clothing out. Gunn let out the breath he had been holding. It was still sinking in that he was alive, that his comrades in arms were alive. Then he remembered Fred and Wesley and Cordelia. His mood plummeted.

“You’re looking a bit peaky mate. Perhaps another lie down…” Spike let his sentence trail off.

“Yeah, I think I might.”

Angel was there in an instant his strong arms helping him up out of the chair and guiding him back to the van. Angel made sure that Gunn was comfortable before leaving him. Spike watched as Angel helped his friend to the vehicle. He envied his grandsire for all the jibes he threw his way. He didn’t like him and that would never change but he envied him the friends that would die for him. Had died for him in fact. When had anybody died for old Spike eh? Spike had died for Buffy, hadn’t minded, he didn’t do it for the world but for the girl. He couldn’t see any of the Scoobies dying for him, for Buffy maybe but not for him.

He lit up the cigarette denied to him earlier and sat back in the still warm chair. What he failed to recognize was that his nemesis Angel had been and was willing to die for his friends, for strangers and for the world. Spike blew smoke rings towards the poof who had gone back to his pacing. The younger vampire still couldn’t believe that he had willingly put his life on the line for the brooding git.

Angel was brooding and pacing. He stopped to listen for outside activity, once when a pair of teens rolled by on skateboards, their voices happy and loud; another when a truck meandered up the lane and away around the next corner. He stayed frozen in his tracks until he was convinced that there were no advancing footsteps. Angel’s heart was a cold dead thing, a dried up old walnut as Number Five had once said. He could feel it freezing over. It was something he had to do. He had to let it all go. His friends, his mission, his son. Okay the mission he could still keep only it would have to be at street level. He had no link to the Powers anymore; but he could still help the helpless right? Only it would have to be on the run, incognito and no side kicks; like it used to be, before Doyle and Cordelia. So why did he feel like it was a betrayal to all he believed in? He paused his pacing. No! He was determined. They had to split up, go into hiding. The Senior Partners were after them, Hell to be honest they were after him, Angel. So he had only one option and that was to leave and disappear into the night.

The day crawled by slowly towards nightfall. Spike had had enough and insisted that the wanker have his chair after going batty watching the floor being worn away by Angel’s big feet. He took a turn about the walls and was back to where Illyria sat crossed legged on the floor beside Angel. The dark vampire practically swallowed the thing he was that big. Spike stayed to listen.

Illyria was saying her eyes turned up to look at Angel. “Why do you concern yourself for your soldiers? They are there to be used as tools as implements.”

His dark eyes focused on hers, his voice a mere whisper. “Tell me about Wesley.”

Unbidden an unfamiliar force sent a shiver through Illyria. Only it wasn’t so unfamiliar, it was grief. The demon believed that she had left it behind in the alley now she realized that it could reemerge to throw her balance off. She did not like this. Illyria tilted her head.

“Wesley was on the floor, his body was leaking blood. The sorcerer Vail was unconscious on the other side of the room. Wesley had failed to kill him.” Her mind recalled her cradling the human as he died.

“Vail had used a blade to end his life.” Fred’s words, her words, “I love you Wesley,” echoed in her memory.

Angel watched her closely and he could see that something more had happened that Illyria was not telling.

“When Wesley was no more Vail regained his feet and taunted me. I was in the form of Fred and I smashed in his head with one blow.” A satisfied smile curved her lips. “He did not know who I was until my form changed as my fist crunched his skull.”

Angel wondered at that. Illyria had taken Fred’s form, for Wesley. He looked at the demon king with interest. Illyria looked back with new eyes. The half breed had tricked her. This was a leader that could earn her respect.

Spike broke the spell. “Good for you pet. The creep had it coming to him.” Percy hadn’t been Spike’s favourite person but he knew that Fred had considered him her love.

Angel uncoiled from the sad excuse for a chair. His wounds were healed though he wished for a steaming hot shower and fresh clothes. He shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly. Oh well, he had lived on the streets for decades without hot showers so for a day or two he would survive.

The window did not have to show him that the sun had set his internal clock told him that. The former CEO of Wolfram and Hart investigated the lighting in the derelict office. The power was still connected and when he turned the switch a lonely bulb sprang into life. Good it wouldn’t do for an empty factory to be well light tonight. Satisfied Angel headed for Gunn in the van. Angel found him awake staring at the ceiling. Someone else had been brooding.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

Gunn turned his dark eyes to his. “Other than I wish I had my sister and friends back? Swell.”

That was another notch to add to Angel’s guilt though the vampire kept his face a mask. “Do you wish to sit up for a bit? Spike and I are heading out.”

“Yeah I think that would be a plan.” When Angel reached for him Gunn held his hand up. “Let me do this.”

Angel nodded and withdrew. He kept close in case the man needed help but Charles made it over to the chair. His legs seemed steadier which gave Angel hope. Angel handed over another bottle of water and the bag containing fruit.

“Illyria, you know what to do.” He nodded at her and turned for the door grabbing his coat as he did so. Spike followed wishing them a cheerio.

Angel didn’t want Spike tagging along but he waited until they were down the road before suggesting that Spike go and steal a car.

“What do you think I’m doing mate?” He snorted at the other vampire. “As soon as we get clear of this place I’m gone.” Spike eyed Angel. “You wouldn’t be doing a spot of thieving yourself then?”

“None of your business,” Angel growled and Spike snickered. It was so easy to wind the poof up. A growling pissed off Angel was better by far than a moping brooding do-gooder.

Angel sighed. He shouldn’t let the fake blonde irritate him so. He walked on hunching his shoulders trying to ward off Spike’s presence.

The skies were full of cloud and the moon was nowhere to be seen allowing the two vampires to pass unnoticed on the deserted streets. The small enclave of factories and workshops led out to a busy main street on which traffic passed by without noticing the two dark figures walking the sidewalk.

Spike nodded at Angel and flitted across the busy street at supernatural speed, the drivers unaware that something had crossed their path. Angel headed down the road towards the retail centre keeping well away from the glow of street lights. His disheveled appearance was going to raise questions; he needed a plan. He looked over fences as he passed by homes but the washing lines were empty. Damn! Most people used dryers these days. He wrapped his coat closer and ran his fingers through his hair. He had washed his hands and face earlier the absence of soap hindering the process for a decent clean up but he knew that the tattered shirt and trousers would raise questions.

The vampire spotted an all night supermarket. It was brightly lit so he skirted by. Half a mile on he came across a small block of older style stores. One was a menswear shop and when Angel glanced in the window it was empty, the store had closed for the night. The lock gave as he carefully pushed against it with his vampire strength. He entered and proceeded to try on a shirt and trousers, black of course. Satisfied he added a couple more shirts and then selected clothing for Gunn and of course Spike. Angel added underwear and socks for them all. Angel snared a couple of sales bags and threw his old clothes in one and the rest of the clothing filled the other two. As he left he placed a couple of hundred dollars in a counter drawer and placed a purloined cap on his head.

Angel headed back towards the supermarket; throwing his tattered gear in a dumpster along the way. Angel winced at the bright lights even from under the cap shading his eyes. There was a horrible squawking sound coming from speakers high in the ceiling. He shuddered as he realized it was piped music; did the stores wish to scare their customers away? Was it a ploy to keep the shoppers from lingering he wondered? He kept his head down in the supermarket, quickly traversing the aisles in search of the items he needed. He shook his head in frustration when said items were found in the most unlikely places. Ducking his head and slouching low he hurriedly purchased his goods even though the night cashier was smiling and friendly. Angel left the store and headed for the back of the building where he had hidden his earlier purchases. He walked briskly back the way he came glad to be out of the hell also known as the supermarket.

Spike was back when Angel arrived and he opened the door for his grand sire at his name. Spike eyed Angel’s new attire as he swept by and gestured to the shopping.

“The cap’s a good look for you,” his smirk broadened when the Poof snatched the cap from his unruly head. “And I bloody well hope there’s something in there for me.”

Angel ignored Spike and brought his goods over to where Gunn was seated. He glanced over at Illyria.

“You guys have any trouble?”

“There was no one to kill. My talents are wasted.” There was more than a little disappointment in Illyria’s tone.

Gunn was seated where Angel had left him although he now had the blankets wrapped about him to keep warm. Angel smelt the sweat before he saw the sheen across his friend’s brow.

“Gunn?”

Gunn tried to dismiss him. “It’s nothing.”

Angel deposited the bags as Spike put in, “He’s been on his feet.”

Angel thought that maybe it was for the best that Gunn try to regain some of his mobility.

“How’s that working for you?” he asked.

“Fine, no need to worry about me, we can leave as planned.” Gunn watched as Angel’s hand disappeared inside a bag.

“Good, then you can put these on.” Angel’s hand pulled out the clothing and he sorted through Gunn’s selection. He put those on Gunn’s knee adding the cap. At Gunn’s look he shrugged. “Camouflage.”

Spike was hovering like a big kid. Angel thrust pants and a black T shirt his way.

The blonde beamed. He held the items up. “This is more like it.” Maybe he should ease up on the old man.

Angel pulled more items out. It was the underwear and socks and more shirts. He shoved those back in the bag and placed it back on the floor.

“Help yourselves.” He walked over to an empty forty four gallon drum and easily hefted the thing and brought it back to the group.

“Here.” Angel then proceeded to place the goods he had purchased from the supermarket on the flat round surface. He pulled out wipes, soap, toothpaste and brushes for all, gauze, band aids, napkins, a razor for Gunn, antiseptic cream, aspirin and a couple of tea towels.

“Are we having a tea party mate?” Spike said when he saw the towels.

“These are for drying your hands or whatever else you decide to clean. Bath towels were too big.”

The last thing out of the bottom of the bag was a pair of boots. Angel reached over and placed the footwear atop the small pile of clothing perched on Gunn’s knee.

“Sorry about the style but the size is right.”

Gunn looked at the boots and back up to Angel his mouth not able to form words properly. “How did you know…?”

He lifted the boots, black and plain; workman’s boots and yes they were his size. He wondered about that. Obviously living in a vampire’s residence meant having every little detail about you noticed by the vampire in question. He thumbed through the clothing on his lap. He bet the pants and shirts were the right size and all. He even liked the tan and deep browns. The man had taste.

Angel was intent on the other purchases; his head was down although the others heard his mumble. “Couldn’t have you running around on bare feet.”

The other bag emptied. This contained bottled water, more juice, a couple of salad rolls, a small lukewarm pizza, candy, donuts and a couple of newspapers. The others looked on with awe.

“How did you manage to…?” Gunn asked finally. The pizza was shoved in his face and he took it. Mmmm, he was kinda hungry. Gunn bit into it with relish.

“Did anyone see you steal all this?” Spike asked incredulously.

“I paid for it.”

“Are you kidding? What if you had been recognized?” Spike asked not that he knew who would be doing the recognizing but Wolfram and Hart had spies everywhere.

Angel pointed to the cap. “I did break into the men’s wear store but I left some money.”

Spike reached down behind the chair and produced a six pack of beer. His smirk was evil. “Top this.”

“Did you steal that?” Angel’s brows knitted together.

“Yep and no one noticed so don’t get your panties in a bunch.” He twisted a cap. “Who wants one?”

Gunn reached for a beer eagerly so Angel sighed and took one. He offered Illyria a drink.

“I require no sustenance.”

“Neither do we love but it tastes good.” Spike swallowed and smacked his lips. “You should try it; it’s a human thing to do.”

Illyria considered this and reluctantly reached for the beer. Angel handed her one and watched as she twisted the cap and hesitantly lifted the neck to her mouth. Fred’s organs had liquefied in becoming Illyria so it was with interest the others watched her swallow the alcohol. Where did it go?

Being vampires and dead and all they didn’t require mortal food, did not have normal mortal functions but they did imbibe from time to time. Angel knew that being a preternatural being his body somehow by supernatural ways dealt with absorbing liquids or even solids in Spike’s case. It moved their bodies and allowed them to walk and talk and be a part of the world. Illyria apparently had the power to eat and drink but had had no inclination to do so. Why should she, he/it? It was a waste of it’s time to do so. Until now.

A look of surprise crossed her face. “This is not unpleasant,” she announced and took another small sip.

Gunn took a long swallow before passing the bottle over to Spike. “I think I’m gonna change. This gown just isn’t me,” he joked before adding, “I’ll be back to finish that.” He placed the footwear on the ground and eased up off the chair with his bundle of clothes.

Angel was pleased to see that Gunn stood a little straighter and steadier. Angel reached for the bag of underwear and stuffed the soap and towel into it and handed it to Gunn as he left for the bathroom.

“Thanks.”

They watched him carefully as he disappeared inside. Spike leaned back against the van and Angel decided to join him. They both sipped their beers in silence as they waited for Charles to appear again.

The silence didn’t last long before Spike said, “I put the car next door, I figured we can leave the van here when we go.”

Angel thought as much when he had arrived back and the newly acquired car was nowhere to be seen. “Good idea.”

His face mirrored his next thought. “You didn’t steal something fancy did you?”

Spike finished his beer before answering. “Would I?” At Angel’s glower he added, “Well yes I would. But I didn’t, so relax. It’s just a boring suburban sedan.”

“A van is more useful for daylight protection.” Angel mused; his scowl gone.

“Yeah, well you wanted a car.” Spike reminded him.

“It had to be a car. Another van creates a trail. Two vans stolen is a coincidence but three?” Angel raised his bottle again.

“Do you know how many vehicles get stolen in this city? Bloody thousands mate!”

“I know, but it’s better to be safe-”

“Than sorry, I get that.” Spike dragged a cigarette out expecting Angel to make a fuss but he didn’t. He lit it and waved it in front of the older vampire but Angel ignored it. The old man was slipping.

It was all just small talk. Small talk to keep at bay the grief and the sorrow at what had been and what was about to come. Separation, loneliness, hide and survive. The ice forming around Angel’s heart was kept at bay by this last bastion of comradeship, all be it with Spike and Illyria; two beings he did not wish to spend his last hours of friendship. Charles Gunn however was a true and trusted friend even though Gunn had tried to deny it time and time again. Fair dues though Spike and Illyria had earned his respect these last few days. Until…..

“Charlie boy! You look great. The great Poof knows how to shop for men. Who knew?”

Angel just clenched his jaw. Spike had more jibes than Xander Harris and that was saying something.

Gunn smiled his teeth gleaming in the faint light as he came towards them. “Great fit Angel.” He tugged at his pants to indicate he liked and sat back down to pull on socks and then the boots. When he was done he put his hand out for his beer.

“Now I feel I’m back in the game.”

Spike picked up his clothes where he had dumped them and made his way to the now vacant bathroom. Angel noticed he didn’t take any of the underwear.

“There’s no hot water,” Gunn called after him. He had left the soap and towel back there.

Angel only had the one beer and waited until Gunn had finished his. Illyria was still intent on small birdlike sips.

“Let’s have another look at that wound.”

Gunn was glad to oblige and lifting up his shirt was far easier than adjusting his gown and not display the family jewels.

He looked down once again as Angel’s pale fingers peeled back the dressing.

“Hey, that looks good.” And it did. The sutures were neat and the puffiness was receding.

Angel decided not to use the antiseptic. He could leave Gunn knowing that the man was going to be able to look after himself. He pulled the dressing free of dark skin.

“The stitches are of the dissolving kind, I won’t even have to go to a doctor.”

Angel straightened and grabbed the gauze and band aids. “This place is filthy,” he said by way of an explanation as he padded the gauze and used the band aids as sticky tape. His work done he retreated giving Gunn back his space. Charles nodded gratefully and pulled his shirt down. The vampire was quite the nurse. In the past it had been Fred or Cordelia who had doctored them, no one thought to ask the vampire to attend a bleeding wound; for obvious reasons.

“It feels good.” Gunn reassured Angel and it did. There was tightness around the area and a bit of soreness but nothing he couldn’t handle. He turned down the aspirin Angel offered.

Spike drifted back freshly washed and newly clothed. “I think I’ll have to pick up a new coat along the way.” He flexed his shoulders and the coat did look rather out of place. The holes in it were one thing the gore was another.

“I think we need to rest up. There’s not much else to do until tomorrow night.” Angel was looking at Charles as he said that.

Spike was rifling through the stash of goods Angel had bought. “Hey! We made the news!” he exclaimed when he found the papers.

Spike handed the other to Gunn and as he scanned the headlines he corrected, “Well not us personally but the fireworks behind The Hyperion.” He held the paper up for the other vampire to see.

The headline read, Terrorists Attack Los Angeles?

Gunn held his up. “Mine says different.” It read, Gas Explosion Destroys Neighbourhood.

Angel turned away; he would read the papers later. Right now he didn’t need to know how many innocent people he had killed. To keep his hands busy he decided to clean his sword, something he had been remiss about earlier. He left Spike seated beside Illyria on the floor reading and Gunn was squinting at his own paper in the poor light.

Angel retrieved his sword from the vehicle along with an oily rag in the tool box and sat on his makeshift bed cross legged and began to work at the dried blood and gore. He wished for his whet stone, the blade was dull from use. Angel bent to the task trying to lose himself in the monotony.

Gunn glanced up from his reading to look at his former boss cleaning his weapon. His human eyes could not discern the vampire’s features but Gunn could sense the disquiet in his demeanour. Charles could feel Angel withdrawing into his shell. The vampire was such a conundrum, wanting and craving human contact and yet pushed it away at every opportunity. He knew that it was a defense mechanism, something he knew about intimately. In his younger days, Gunn had been brash and abrasive and it had worked to keep others at a distance. Since hooking up with Angel and the others he had let his guard down and realized that it had been to the good. He had loved and been loved and he wouldn’t trade it for anything; except maybe for Fred’s life. Angel quietly worked and Gunn resisted the urge to comment on what he was reading. Spike however had no such compunction.

“Five buildings destroyed… hey one was your old digs Angel.”

Angel kept his head down watching his hands move.

“The heat was so intense experts have yet to determine whether it was a deliberate act of terrorism or an unfortunate accident involving a gas leak.” Spike continued.

Gunn hissed at him. “Ssspike!”

“What?” The vamp looked up.

Gunn jerked his head towards Angel. Spike looked over at his grand sire and sighed. He mimed locking his lips and Gunn mimed back ‘thanks.’ Gunn put his paper down. He was tired and his eyes hurt from squinting. Time for some shut eye.

Illyria opened her mouth. “Not now pet.” She closed them with a frown. Spike moved the paper a little so that Illyria could read the news.

Angel was grateful for the silence. He had felt the stares and heard the whispers but he didn’t acknowledge them. He kept working.

Gunn rose from his chair. “I think I’ll call it a night, I’m kinda wacked.” He managed quite well to the van, blankets in hand.

“I guess it’s too early for you guys eh?” he asked the busy vampire.

Angel looked up from his task. “It is but there isn’t much else to do, we’re stuck in here until tomorrow night.”

Angel set his sword down and slid smoothly to his feet and stepping past Gunn, he leaned into the van and snatched up Gunn’s axe. Gunn watched the head of his axe sail past his nose as Angel stepped back.

Angel narrowed his gaze to the weapon. “This’ll require some work.” The axe was crusty with gore.

Gunn put his face up close to see better. “Man, that’s nasty,” he grimaced. He turned and climbed into the van. “Good luck with that,” and he smiled.

Angel nodded and resumed his seat. Gunn could see him at work from his place on the floor of the van. Gunn felt this slow burn low down in his chest. He knew he had been avoiding facing it, what with being wounded and all. He heard Spike chuckle at something and then tried to explain the funnies to Illyria.

Gunn spoke the low burn getting the better of him, tears pricked behind his eyes.

“I miss them.”

Angel’s hand stilled.

“English and I had some issues….Fred….”

Angel waited for Gunn to find the words.

“I never wanted him dead.” Angel could see Gunn wipe at his eyes.

“And what happened to Fred…I ….” Gunn swallowed. “First Cordelia and...” he finished.

Angel could feel Gunn’s grief mixing with his own deep within his soul. He had a lot to atone for; an impossible task he knew and now the sacrifice of the people closest to him.

He breathed in a little to allow speech; the words were soft and low. “I know.”

Gunn seemed to rally. “The year went to Hell didn’t it?”

Angel’s hand started working again. “Yeah,” he felt responsible for that.

“I chose to work for Evil Incorporated,” Gunn finished as if he could read the vampire’s mind.

Angel still felt responsible. The fact of the matter had been that The Senior Partners offered Angel Wolfram and Hart Los Angeles to corrupt him or at best to distract him. His friends were caught up in the machinations of evil and had paid the ultimate price.

Gunn turned his head away. “We did good last night. We saved the world.”

Angel wasn’t sure about the good yet; it was all still so raw. His hands began to clean once more. The one good thing that had come out of last year had been reuniting with his son and finding out that the boy didn’t hate him.

Angel sat cleaning until he heard his friend’s breathing slow into sleep. He knew that Spike and Illyria had been listening; they all had excellent hearing. He was grateful that Spike had kept his mouth shut for a change. He bent his head and concentrated on his task. Tomorrow was another day, he had to say goodbye to all he knew and vanish like smoke into thin air.

Angel cleaned the weapons until they were gleaming. Spike and Illyria headed outside for fresh air with Angel’s warning ringing in their ears. They would stay close and stay hidden. Angel settled down for the night on his pallet Spike taking first watch without so much as a grumble.

Sleep was elusive, it was only midnight and the lonely forlorn whistle of a train passing down the tracks a mile or two away sounded eerily in the night. This was the future that loomed large for him now, loneliness and solitude. Angel reflected on his first words with Doyle, how apart he had felt and had been, on the outside looking in. Now several years later he was headed back in that direction and it frightened him. He had to be strong and close the gates to his feelings. Hearts get in the way, God it hurt to think of that without thinking of Fred and Wesley. Wesley who had done more harm to Angel in his short life than anyone else ever could and yet Angel had managed to forgive Wesley for the vampire knew that he himself had wreaked more havoc on thousands of families back in the day. It had taken time and Wesley offering his own life’s blood and a hate filled Connor returned to him to accomplish that but he had. An errant image formed of a certain blonde slayer which he pushed away. She wasn’t his anymore; she had moved on. Isn’t that what he wanted for her so why did it hurt? That led to thoughts of Cordelia and he couldn’t so he turned his thoughts to tomorrow.

Angel mulled over several avenues of escape until he settled on the one he would take. Sleep eventually came, he was aware when the door opened to admit Spike and Illyria and then he knew no more.

The night bled into day, the four fugitives slept and read and paced. Gunn had risen to find everyone else awake but still reclining in rest. Illyria had taken the next watch and Gunn insisted that he do his turn. After a bathroom stop Gunn grabbed a roll and some juice and walked the perimeter of the factory floor. Munching on his breakfast he peered out into the morning sun glinting off the roof of a neighbouring building. Gunn was exercising under the pretense of guard duty. Angel recognized this so hadn’t made a fuss. He was busy reading the news and he devoured every word. It pained him to read about the carnage and suffering but he did anyway. He scoured every item about the disaster and then went on to read about the other normal and mundane things in life.

At one point Angel used the bathroom to strip down and wash up, the smell of dried blood was making him crazy. He donned another new shirt and brushed his teeth and wished he could do more than rinse his hair. Refreshed he exchanged his paper for Spike’s and settled down for awhile. Everyone was subdued, few words were spoken. Illyria and Angel were usually short on words; it was Spike who surprised them by saying little.

Gunn paced about for ten minutes at a time before drawing out the time on his feet to an hour. It was his way of improving his stamina. Angel rose and indicated his pallet.

“Sit.” The vampire insisted as he did a turn about the floor.

Thankfully Gunn complied and picked up the paper to read. His face showed the effect the reports had on him but he said nothing. And so the day progressed. The warriors who had averted the apocalypse were eager to be on the move but reluctant to leave behind familiar faces. During the afternoon Angel had rechecked Gunn’s wound and declaring it well on the way to healing, stripped off the dressing for the final time. Gunn was pleased about that, now all he had to worry about was how to survive the next days, weeks and months, a daunting task in itself.

The day drew to a close and Spike offered the last beer to Charles after swiping the other remaining one with a leering smirk to Angel. Angel didn’t care about that and Spike frowned when he didn’t get a reaction. Spike helped Gunn polish off the last of the donuts and Angel couldn’t fathom once again how Spike could enjoy any food when their taste buds were dead.

Angel bustled about tidying up the refuse into an empty clothing bag. He didn’t want to leave a trace of a clue to the authorities that most probably were connected to Wolfram and Hart. He had been surprised that the L.A Police Dept had been in deep with the law firm; one of the multitude of facts that had come to light during his reign as CEO.

Spike sniggered at him. “How anal can you be Angel? Tidying up this decrepit place?”

“You could help Spike,” Angel growled, “most of this mess belongs to you.” He picked up several cigarette butts to emphasize his point.

Gunn could see where Angel was coming from and he began to help with the discarded clothing.

“Spike! Go clean out the van. I want everything out of there and use a rag to wipe it down.”

Spike grumbled but did as he was told. The old man had a point. He had to remove all evidence of blood and fingerprints and well everything inside. The fingerprints though belonged to Illyria and Gunn. Vampires didn’t leave prints; it was something akin to the reflection mirror thing. Spike had never understood the whole concept, only that it worked to their advantage. Using his old shirt Spike set to work. Angel finished off his task leaving Gunn to stuff any usable item or food into a remaining bag.

Angel placed the half made chair back into the pile of rubbish at the back of the warehouse and threw the stuffing from both beds there too. The hospital blanket went into a pile with the bloody clothes, papers, dressings and food scraps. Illyria just stood and watched the doors and window as they busied themselves. Angel pulled over the drum used as a table and threw the rubbish inside.

“Spike! Lighter.”

Spike was happy to oblige and soon they had a merry little blaze going. Illyria opened the window to vent the smoke. It was evening and the smoke would not be noticed. Angel helped Spike finish off the outside of the van before asking him to bring in the other car.

Finally they were ready to depart the car was packed with the few meager belongings Gunn had collected. Angel suggested the plan he had been formulating the night before.

“Illyria it seems as if you will be traveling with Spike here. Is that to your liking?”

Illyria cocked her head at the blonde vampire. “I wish it.” Spike bowed in jest at the blue demon.

“Glad to be of service your majesty.”

Angel handed Gunn his axe. “I don’t know how you are going to travel with this but I thought you might want it. I suggest you travel with Spike and Illyria, get them to drop you off at a bus station if you wish. Do not tell them where you are headed. What we don’t know we can’t tell.”

Gunn took his axe and nodded a lump was forming in his throat. Spike said “Welcome aboard.”

Angel delved deep in his coat pockets and came up with a bundle of cash in each hand.

Spike whistled in surprise. “Where did you get that?”

“I had it stashed at the Hyperion.” It had been a part of Connor’s college fund, it was useless now. He looked at the money in his hands. “I made a quick stop on the way to The Apocalypse.”

Gunn choked out. “You really believed we would make it out alive?”

“No but it pays to be prepared.” A small smile graced his lips. Angel could feel himself closing down and it was hard to make the effort to interact.

Spike held his hand out eagerly. “Forget what I’ve said about you in the past mate, I take it all back.”

Angel unfolded several hundred dollars. “You can always pick up more on the way,” he told the other vampire.

Spike tucked the cash in his jeans pocket. “Yeah, bust a few demon heads and see what falls out,” he chuckled.

“Just keep a low profile,” Angel warned.

“Yeah, yeah.” He flipped one off to his grandsire.

Angel peeled off a few hundred for his own use and handed the rest to Charles.

Gunn opened his mouth. There must have been a couple of thousand dollars there.

“This is too much,” he croaked the bills uncurling from their tight bundle.

“Nonsense. You’re human and injured and have needs. This will help you with a fresh start somewhere. It’s just money but it will get you a place to stay, food to eat, travel, whatever you decide to do.”

Angel offered his hand looking deep into Charles’ eyes. He was sorry for all of the past year and he hoped that Gunn forgave him for that.

The human took it and something passed between them, an understanding, friendship, farewell. Gunn stepped forward and gave the vampire a hug. He saw the emotion flicker across Angel’s face before a blank look replaced it. The vampire’s mouth set into a grim line and his eyes hardened. Gunn wished he could do the same, he was falling apart like a baby, but he managed to straighten his face as he jammed the money into his trouser pocket.

“What about you?” Spike asked after the awkward moment had passed.

“There’s a railway track a couple of miles east of here, I thought I would hop a train.” Angel’s grin was strained. “It’ll be like the old days.”

“Okay then.” Spike opened the door to the waiting car. “Time to go.”

Illyria nodded at Angel. “Perhaps we’ll meet again half breed. I think there is more of this tale to tell.”

Angel nodded back to the God King. “Thank you Illyria for your help.” She climbed into the front seat. Gunn hovered a moment then he too nodded and got in the back.

Spike stood beside his door. “It was a hell of a ride,” he said at last.

Angel inclined his head and Spike nodded back before closing the door. Angel opened the loading doors and watched as the car and his comrades drove off into the night. He stood for a moment until the tail lights turned the corner. Angel turned about to move the now burnt out drum to the back, the fire was out. He wiped down the window and did the same to the bathroom. When all was done, Angel snapped up a discarded wooden chair leg and placed it in a coat pocket before he closed the doors and headed off towards the tracks. A wooden stake always came in handy.

Angel slipped over fences and scaled walls and kept to the shadows on the streets as he made his way out of the small town. It wasn’t long before the buildings and houses were behind him and he was in the country. His feet carried him for a mile or so until he met the tracks and these he followed while waiting for a train. It didn’t matter in which direction it was headed, he would take it.

For the first time in years he felt really alone. He had been alone for nearly one hundred years he would get used to it again. His heart though refused to listen and it seemed to want to curl in on itself in pain. He stopped and looked at the stars. Wispy clouds scudded across the sky; the moon coming into bloom illuminated the landscape a little. He let out a sigh that came from deep within. It helped to purge his emotions, build a cage of ice around his rebel heart. He started walking again, the sword at his back a familiar friend; it was all he had now. He would disappear, tour the country maybe leave it and head north or south over the border. It depended on the coming train.

The vibrations ran up through the soles of his shoes before he heard the engine. The whistle blew and he knew it traveled north but for all he knew it could continue on east. Angel stood to the side of the tracks and hid under a small tree that dared to lean out to impede the iron monster. The engine passed him in a blur, the wind picking up the hem of his coat as it went. He waited until several carriages had passed and then saw an opening. He leapt and like a cat landed on the side of the steel monstrosity. With fingers like claws he inched along until he made it to the rear of the carriage. He would look for an open car and bunk down there for a while.

A familiar scent caught his nose, blood, fresh, human and close. Following the aroma, his inner demon growling for a taste, he climbed to the roof and lightly skipped along jumping a couple of carriages until the smell was overpowering. Angel lay flat and levered his body over the side until he could peer inside the open side door. Vamps! And with a kill, just what he needed; some violence. Not one to pass such an opportunity Angel judged the sway of the speeding train and launched his body over the side and into the car. Four startled faces looked towards him.

“Hey boys! You couldn’t wait for me before starting the party?” He looked past the demon faces to the still forms of two ragged men. There was an absence of heartbeats in the car, the bodies were already cooling.

“Who are you?” growled one who Angel guessed was the leader.

“Your worst nightmare,” the ensouled vampire replied before reaching for his sword.

With a roar the four vampires attacked thinking that they had the upper hand. Angel’s sword was a blur as it sliced through skin and bone and as the head fell both it and the body dusted. The sword continued its arc and sliced into the next vamp and it roared with pain and fell back clutching its arm.

The two remaining vamps reached for Angel but he was pivoting with the swing of the sword at such a rate that the stake he had in his left hand landed with a thud into the heart of one of the duo. Its demon eyes widened in shock as it turned to dust. The last vampire landed on Angel’s back delivering a heavy blow to his ribs but Angel ignored the pain. He leaped back into the walls of the carriage landing on top of the vampire. He brought his elbow up and smashed his opponent under the chin before head butting it in the face. The vampire sagged back and Angel was on his feet in an instant and brought his sword down. The remaining vampire was trying to scramble for the open door but Angel was in suddenly his way.

“Please!” it pleaded and Angel obliged.

When the dust settled Angel stooped over the ragged and bloody bodies, his sword on his back once more. The threadbare coats and shoes and smell of the men told their story. These were helpless homeless men who had been set upon in their travels. There was nothing he could do here. Angel stood at the open door and contemplated throwing the men out but couldn’t bring himself to do so. He would leave them here to be found along the way, it would matter he would be long gone by then. Angel knew he had to harden his heart to do the things that needed to be done just to survive. The heart was a fickle thing and softened just a little. He stepped out of the carriage, toeing the door runner and bracing against the wind, carefully closed the door and made his way back to the adjoining car. He climbed the roof until he found the open car he was looking for.

Inside it was empty and gratefully he slid to the floor by the corner. Angel disengaged his sword laying it flat and stretched his legs out before him rocking gently with the sway of the train. He was now one of the homeless, a state of being he had experienced for many a decade. He watched the moving scenery as the engine hurried him away from all that he had called home for the last few years. He was immortal; he could live forever so what were a few years to him? Truth be told, they were everything in his long life. He had to let go and he did, the emotions he held at bay bled out into the night chasing the passing landscape. Before the dawn Angel would be remade. He would be invisible and emotionless, he would be a monster killer; what else was he to do?