EMERGENCE

By Scarlet Lady

An Angel story featuring Cordelia and Wesley.

WARNING: [PG-13] This story contains a bit of demon-slaying and a bit of blood, but nothing too graphic.

SPOILER ALERT: Contains general spoilers for the latter part of season 1 of Angel.

DISCLAIMER:  Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox, Mutant Enemy, and/or the WB Television Network own these characters. I've just borrowed them for this story. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred. 

TIMELINE: Shortly before the Angel episode 'Eternity'.

Angel hefted his fighting axe and moved through the warm humidity of the basement. His eyes searched the deeper shadows around the machinery and clustered pipes. He froze, trying to ignore the gentle hiss of steam as he listened for a sound that would betray the location of his quarry. The axe was suddenly knocked from his hand, and skittered away across the floor. Angel caught a glimpse of grey skin and spines, before a bony fist hit him full in the face. He reeled back, but recovered quickly and shifted into a fighting stance. The demon was big as well as strong. Angel saw its eyes gleam with amusement as it sized him up. He mentally shrugged. With a hospital full of defenceless people above them, there was no way he was going to let this thing win.

Wesley was nodding and smiling indulgently at Cordelia's latest lecture. Cordelia took one more turn around the office and continued.

"There's more to undercover work than a blonde wig and dark glasses. You have to immerse yourself in the character, even if-"

She stopped, clutching her head, her other hand reaching for the desk to steady herself.

"Wesley!"

Wesley was already out of his seat. By the time the first shocks hit her body, he'd manoeuvred her into a chair. As the vision subsided, he hurried to fetch a glass of water and some painkillers.

"There should be a limit to how many of these visions they can send," Cordelia complained as she took the proffered pills.

"They can't be expected to follow a timetable," Wesley pointed out. "Still, it is rather soon after the last one."

"Soon? Angel isn't even back yet."

"What did you see this time?"

"I'm not sure. It was a big, ugly mess, all red and squirming."

Angel released his grip on the demon, letting its body slump to the floor. He cast an anxious glance around him, but the fight didn't seem to have attracted any attention. He studied the corpse with a frown, then brightened as he looked at the incinerator that dominated the back wall. He failed to see the red mass that hung in the darkness beside the apparatus. It was no surprise that he didn't notice the mass begin to seethe as he dragged the demon's body across the room. The heat made Angel flinch a little as he opened the incinerator, and the roar of the fire drowned out the sound of something slithering free. Angel heaved the carcass into the flames, oblivious to the red shape snaking towards him. He closed the hatch of the machine, and turned round to find himself face to face with the thing.

Cordelia and Wesley were in the outer office, but now she was seated while he roamed about the room. Cordelia raised her head from her hands as Wesley spoke again.

"And it definitely wasn't a-"

"I told you it was all blurry," Cordelia interrupted. "But it wasn't like any demon I've seen before."

"Did you get any indication as to where it might be? Whatever it is, we need to find it."

"Well, if we're really lucky, maybe it'll just turn up on our doorstep."

They both jumped as the outer door opened. Their startled faces melted into relief as Angel walked in.

"How did it go?" asked Cordelia.

"Just another night of demon slaying," Angel told them in a weary voice.

"Do we need to dispose of any evidence?" Wesley enquired.

Angel shook his head as he slumped down on the couch. "There was an incinerator."

"Are you all right?" asked Wesley, taking in Angel's battered appearance.

"I'm fine."

"I'm not," Cordelia chimed in.

Angel sat up straight, his eyes moving from the painkillers on the desk to Cordelia's drawn face.

"Another vision?"

Cordelia nodded, then winced. "It was ... I don't know. It was some sort of ..." She trailed off, looking at Wesley.

"A demonic entity," Wesley finished for her. "We don't know where it is, or what it wants."

"So, I guess we have some research to do," Cordelia sighed.

"It's late," Angel told them. "You're tired."

"Not too tired, Angel. I can-"

"Wesley, I can't. Go home, get some rest. Whatever it is, it'll have to keep till morning."

Angel locked the door behind them and took the lift down to his apartment. Dropping his coat over the back of a chair, he opened the weapons cabinet before remembering that he'd left his axe upstairs. He fished a container of blood from the fridge and drained its contents as he wandered over to the bedroom. Swaying with exhaustion, he fumbled with his shirt. As the garment fell to the floor, he sank heavily onto the bed. With an effort, he managed to remove his boots. His mind told him to finish undressing, but his body stretched out on the mattress and surrendered to the need for sleep.

Cordelia swept into the office, and found Angel hunched over her desk. She directed a cheery 'Good morning' to his back. Then she noticed the blood on the floor.

"Oh my God, Angel! Who did you kill?"

Angel straightened up and turned to face her. There were traces of blood around his mouth, a fact that wasn't lost on Cordelia.

"Ew! Who did you eat?"

"I didn't ..." Angel swallowed, then tried again. "It's not ... It's mine."

After a moment's incomprehension, Cordelia wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"You threw up?" Her tone was one of disbelief, but Angel nodded. "I didn't know that was possible. Is this some sort of vampire illness? And is it catching?"

"I don't know."

"We need Wesley."

Before Angel had a chance to reply, Cordelia had speed-dialled Wesley's number. He began to speak, but Cordelia cut him off with a gesture as Wesley answered.

"It's me." She announced down the phone. A momentary frown of annoyance passed over her features. "Me me. How many other 'mes' do you have? ... We need you at the office right away.... Well, sort of. Angel's ill.... That's what we want you to help us find out. You'll have to let yourself in, I'll be doing my Florence Nightingale routine."

"What are you going to do?" Angel asked her as she hung up. "I mean, we don't actually know what's wrong with me."

"Well, for a start, I think you should go downstairs and rest." With that, she marched into the lift and stood there expectantly. "Come on."

Angel managed to keep all but the faintest smile from his face as he joined her.

Wesley let himself into the office and looked round apprehensively. There was no one there, so he walked through to the inner office. The door to the basement was ajar, and he went over to it.

"Cordelia?" he called out. "Angel? Are you there?"

In the basement, Angel sat up on the day-bed. Cordelia abandoned her mopping of his fevered brow, and answered.

"Down here, Wesley."

Angel got to his feet as Wesley hurried down the stairs. Wesley strode over, looking at Angel with concern.

"What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm better now."

"It's not like vampires get ill," Cordelia pointed out. "We need to find out what's wrong."

"What exactly did happen?" Wesley wanted to know.

Angel hesitated, but Cordelia leapt in.

"He threw up. Vomited blood." She caught sight of Angel's pained expression. "It's true. And if you say you're fine, then fine. But next time, you can clean it up yourself."

She looked at the cloth she'd been waving around as if it had personally offended her. Wesley smiled a tight little smile as she flounced into the bathroom, then turned his attention back to Angel.

"Cordelia's right. We really should find out what the problem is. In fact, I think I know where to start. I'm sure I've seen something about this recently."

Wesley went over to a bookcase and stared at its contents. Angel wandered after him, and watched as he began to hunt along the shelves. Angel felt moisture trickle across his lips, and dabbed at his face. With an exclamation of triumph, Wesley pulled a volume from the shelf and turned towards Angel. Angel stood, blinking, as blood ran from his nose. Then his legs went from under him. The book hit the floor unnoticed as Wesley grabbed the falling vampire. Caught off balance, he was forced to the floor by Angel's solid bulk.

Angel lay on his bed where the others had deposited him. Cordelia had retrieved her cloth, and was wiping the blood from his face.

"He's burning up," she told Wesley.

"Just like last time."

"Last time?"

"In Sunnydale. Graduation."

"Oh, yeah. The poison arrow thing." She looked at Wesley in sudden alarm. "The time he nearly died."

"I'll go and get that book."

Cordelia watched from the doorway as he retrieved the volume and leafed through it. Behind her, Angel's eyes flickered open. They were entirely red, with no trace of iris, pupil or white.

"Have you found what you were looking for?" Cordelia called out.

"Just a minute," Wesley replied, as he continued to skim through the book.

Angel rose from the bed and began to cross the room. Sensing movement, Cordelia whirled, and found herself looking into the eyes of a stranger. Involuntarily, she backed up a couple of steps. Wesley side-stepped her and entered the room.

"Oh dear," he said, as he looked at Angel. "I'm afraid this confirms it."

"Wesley!" Angel gasped, reaching for the other man with one hand, while the other clutched his stomach.

"It's all right, Angel," Wesley soothed, taking him by the arm. "But you must rest."

Cordelia came forward, and took Angel's other arm. Between them they led him back to bed. He went meekly, and sank gingerly onto the mattress. Wesley beckoned Cordelia out of the room.

"What's wrong with him?" Cordelia demanded.

"He's got a demon inside him."

"Well, duh."

"No, another demon, a Sennef demon. It's a parasite that drains the host's life force. I came across it whilst following up some research on that Ethros demon."

"Is it going to do that burrower thing and burst out of him?"

He produced his book and began to read.

"It only has a physical form when it first hatches. It has to become incorporeal in order to merge with its victim. It says here that it can be destroyed with a simple cleansing ritual. It seems that it attacks any creature with human blood, although most of the recorded cases deal with it attacking humans."

"Why?"

"Well, demons aren't noted for coming forward to volunteer their case histories." Wesley paused, and looked anxiously at Cordelia. Seeing her begin to frown, he continued. "Besides, it's usually fatal."

"Fatal? But you just said it can be cured by a simple ritual."

"With humans, yes. But with demons ... well, this information was compiled by Watchers. They don't concern themselves with helping demons. That particular policy could have killed Angel before. I'm not going to let him die now."

"So how are we going to cure him?"

Wesley was unable to answer. As he pondered, Cordelia took the book from him and began to read for herself.

"This is it," she squealed, breaking Wesley's reverie.

"The cure?"

"No! The thing from my vision." She held out the book, pointing to the illustration she'd just discovered. "There!"

"Of course! No wonder we couldn't identify the demon from your vision. What you saw was its nest."

"This is bad, isn't it?"

"A nest of these things could do untold damage. We have to find it."

"But what about Angel?"

Wesley hesitated, torn. He glanced over at Angel. Then his jaw tightened as his face took on an expression of resolve.

"I'll destroy the nest while you find a way to cure Angel. Unless you'd like to clean out the nest while I do the research."

Cordelia gave him an understanding look.

"We need to find the nest first," she pointed out.

"Angel must have been near it when he was infected."

"Unless there's more than one nest out there."

"Let's hope not. Even if there is, we can only deal with one at a time. Let's see ... The nests are usually found in caves heated by volcanic activity. Hmm ... a cave ..."

"Or a basement."

"Somewhere warm ..."

"Somewhere with an incinerator."

"The hospital," they said in unison.

"If the demons are still in the nest, I'll be able to destroy them with a short incantation and some essence of coloquinth. Angel should have some of that."

"I'm on it," Cordelia told him, and went to look for it.

Wesley went over to the weapons cabinet and began to inspect its contents.

"What if the nest has hatched?" Cordelia asked as she returned with the coloquinth. In reply, Wesley simply produced an axe. "Oh. So, what do I do if a find a cure?"

"Use it, as soon as you can," he told her as he took the jar.

"How long do you think he has?" Cordelia asked in a timid voice.

"Angel's considerably stronger than a human ... but do hurry."

On the bed, Angel moaned and moved restlessly in his sleep.

Wesley paused in the dimly-lit corridor and took out his torch. He shone the beam onto the sign on the door in front of him.

"Finally," he muttered to himself.

At that moment, the door flew open and Wesley was confronted by a man in hospital uniform.

"Ah ... " Wesley fumbled for an excuse. "I was looking for ..." The man stared blankly at him. Then he shoved Wesley out of the way and sprinted off down the corridor. "Wait! Come back!"

The man ignored him, and disappeared from sight. Nervously, Wesley stepped through the door.

Cordelia was seated at the kitchen table, books strewn across its surface. Checking the volume that was open in front of her, she finished making her notes. She looked back over what she'd written, then threw her pen down with a sigh. She left her seat and walked over to the bed where Angel was sleeping. He was quiet now, and still. His skin was pale, even for a vampire, and a sheen of sweat gave it a waxy look. He was gaunt, as though the parasite inside him was literally sucking him dry. Cordelia wondered if this was what he had looked like when drained by Darla.

Wesley stood in front of the incinerator, shining his torch into the shadows. He saw the nest, a sac of demon life that writhed as he approached. Then he saw the reason for the worker's hurried exit. Underneath the nest lay a Sennef demon, newly hatched. As Wesley watched, it began to move. Holding his breath, Wesley put the torch down. Slowly, quietly, he reached for his axe. The ringing of his mobile shattered the silence, and the demon reared up hungrily. Grimacing, Wesley snatched the phone from his pocket and brought it to his ear.

"I'm sorry, Cordelia," he whispered, after listening for a moment. "I can't talk now."

Cordelia heard the line go dead.

"But Wesley," she said, "I need you to tell me that I've got this right."

She looked over towards the bedroom and picked up her notes.

"Come on," she told herself. "You can do this. You have to do this."

Cordelia placed a candle at each corner of the bedroom, lighting each of them in turn.

"Nen kher-ek her-ef, nen redy-ek tu emem-ef," she recited from the notes in her hand. "Nen sekhem awt-ek nebet em awt-ef nebet."

She knelt down by the bed, sparing a quick glance for its occupant.

"Ha-ek khefty iry mer," she intoned, lighting a final candle. She set the candle down, together with her notes, next to the items already laid out. The container of blood was fresh from the fridge, and condensation made it slippery as she brought it forward.

"Sut sudja su em-a khet nebet binet djut." Cordelia picked up a dagger, and dipped it into the blood.

"Em-a neken neb dju." She used the point to trace a complicated pattern onto a piece of paper.

"Em-a iment nebet djut." Her voice rose, and she glanced again at Angel's still form. She was certain she could feel a strange energy in the air as she held the paper over the candle.

"Saou ha! Saou!"

The entire paper ignited suddenly. Cordelia flinched as the flames licked at her fingers, but they didn't burn her. Then the fire was gone, consuming the paper without a trace. There was a moment of calm as the tension began to dissipate. Then Angel flung back his head and cried out in pain, and Cordelia scrambled to her feet. As she stared at him in panic she dimly became aware of footsteps hurrying closer.

"Cordelia?"

She tore her eyes away from Angel and found Wesley, dishevelled but intact, watching her from the doorway.

"What have I done to him, Wesley? I followed the instructions."

They both watched as Angel arched up off the bed, contorted in agony.

"Oh God," Cordelia gasped "Is he ...?"

A faint reddish mist seemed to seep from Angel's pores. I thickened around him, hovering in a malignant cloud. It gathered like a halo around his head, then vanished with a soft hiss. Angel collapsed into an exhausted sleep.

"I think he's going to be all right," Wesley said.

Cordelia and Wesley looked round as the lift whirred up from the basement. Angel stepped out, and Cordelia greeted him with a bright smile.

"Well, look who's back in the land of the liv-. Look who's up and about."

"Cordelia. Wesley. I want to thank you for saving my life."

"I didn't really have much to do with it, Angel." Wesley told him uncomfortably. "Cordelia was the one who cured you."

"Well, I had to didn't I? You were too busy fighting demons and protecting the innocent."

"That was good work, Wesley."

Wesley looked away in embarrassed pride, a boyish smile lighting up his face. Then his expression fell again.

"You understand why I had to go after the nest, don't you?"

"I'd have done the same myself," Angel told him. He watched Wesley out of the corner of his eye until he saw the man relax.

"Anyway," Cordelia said, "He knew that I was here to save the day. I guess that curing vampires is another thing to add to my resume. Along with this play. You will be coming to the play, won't you? I've told them that you'd be there, and they've set aside some tickets."

She gathered her things and breezed out, heading for her rehearsal. After she'd gone, Angel exchanged an ominous look with Wesley, and shuddered.

The end.

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