The Wheel
Book Two: The Chariot
by Cynamin

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Cordelia said in exasperation.

Angel didn't even acknowledge her statement. He just kept going through the amazing number of weapons brought by Wesley from L.A. Some he cleaned and/or sharpened and placed in one pile, others he ignored and put in a second, less organized pile. He'd been at this for…well, Cordelia wasn't sure exactly how long he'd been at this, but it was ridiculous.

"Are you even listening to me?!" she asked louder.

Angel stopped what he was doing and looked at her sharply. "What would you have me say, huh, Cordelia?"

"Say that you're not going to go charging into battle like this. Say that you're not going to fight like this."

Slowly, Angel sat down on the couch. He sank into it and looked up at Cordelia. His face was blank, but his eyes were pained. "I'm needed in this fight," he said simply.

"But…"

"I *need* to be in this battle," Angel said, stronger this time.

Cordelia was startled by his earnestness, but would not be swayed. "Angel," she said in a softer tone. She thought carefully before she continued. "I just don't think you should be out in front this time. You were unconscious for over a week. Maybe you should just hold back."

Angel looked angry at that. "I won't hold back!" he snapped, then seemed to deflate again. "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand," Cordelia pleaded

"They killed Buffy," Angel stated, nearly growling.

"So you're going to let them kill you?!" Cordelia demanded, giving voice to her fear.

Angel stood again. Cordelia thought that he would have been pacing if he was one to pace. "I'm not going to let them kill me," he said, though he did not meet her eyes. "But if they do…I'm taking all of them with me."

"Angel," Cordelia pleaded desperately. He was talking as if he didn't care if he lived or died. "Please…"

He raised his head from the weapons and looked at her again. He said nothing, just looked at her pointedly. Then he went back to sorting the weapons and would not be disturbed again. Cordelia could take it no longer. She turned her back and walked towards the room she'd been staying in.

Wesley was standing in the corridor, watching her. "You're wasting your breath," he said softly.

"I know," Cordelia agreed wearily. "I couldn't just stand there and say nothing."

"We're all worried about him," Wesley tried to assure her. He smiled very slightly. "At least he's not still comatose, right?"

Cordelia frowned. "I'm just afraid…that we won't ever see him again after the battle."

"He won't get himself killed intentionally," Wesley said, though his certainty was waning.

"But what about unintentionally?" Cordelia demanded loudly. She didn't care if Angel could hear her. "What if he gets killed because he doesn't care any more either way?"

Wesley said nothing for a while, then sighed heavily. They both knew there was no good answer to that. "The others will be here come nightfall," he said. "They'll watch out for him tomorrow."

"Watch out for him?" Cordelia said, aghast. "Everyone is too caught up in their own personal issues or wallowing in the Buffy misery just like him. Do you think Riley and the Initiative guys are going to care what happens to Angel? A vampire? No one cares about what happens to him." She turned away from Wesley and quickly strode towards her room.

"We care."

She almost missed Wesley's response.

He ran up beside her and touched her arm lightly. "Cordelia, stop!" he said sternly.

"What?!" she snapped back at him.

"We care what happens to Angel," Wesley said slowly. "We'll watch out for him, Cordelia."

Cordelia just looked at him for a moment.

"*We* will," he said again.

Cordelia took a deep breath. "We will," she affirmed.

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