December 24, 2000
"Well, what have we here?"
The half-demon's uneasy sleep was abruptly interrupted by harsh voices, but it took him a moment to realize that this was not just another part of his dream.
"I'm guessing you didn't buy a ticket, buddy, but we can take care of that little problem."
Someone was dragging him up by one arm, and he winced, blinking in confusion. There were two of them, hauling him roughly to his feet from his cramped position between the crates. His legs had fallen asleep and seemed to have turned to rubber. He gasped at the pins and needles, but the fact that his legs wouldn't hold him didn't matter much, because they were holding him up between them like a rag doll anyway, and they were laughing.
They weren't human, either ... any more than he was. As if the horns on either side of their bald heads weren't quite enough to pull off that intimidating look, the three horns jutting out smartly on each side of the face, along the jawbone, would make shaving rather difficult, if they had ever needed to shave.
The part of his mind that still remembered these things recognized them as Kailiff demons. Wonderful. He had been on the wrong side of a few of these jolly fellows before.
Or had he?
They were in a great mood too. He was guessing that it had been way too long since they had found someone to torment.
"You're passing through our part of the country, brother, you've got to pay a toll. Ain't that right?"
"Uh, I - " He had no sooner opened his mouth than one of the Kailiffs slapped him. It was a fairly light slap, by Kailiff standards. To another Kailiff, it would have been an insult.
For a Lister like Artie, it was almost enough to take his head off.
His face and neck joined the chorus of protest that his legs had already begun, as his world spun dizzily, until he was sure that he was about to retch. Through the pain, he heard the other Kailiff chortle gleefully, "Oh, this is gonna be fun."
The leathery skin of one large hand closed around his throat, not quite tight enough to choke him yet. Joy in the morning, they were going to play first. He automatically reached out to try to pull the hand away. The first Kailiff, the one who had slapped him, caught both of his hands easily in just one of his, and twisted them behind his back.
Desperately, he wished that he had Brachen spikes right now, and then he wondered where the hell that thought had come from. Who or what did he think he was? It wouldn't matter much longer, anyway, not if they killed him.
No, he wasn't going to do that again. His thoughts whirled in wild confusion as he struggled weakly between the two much-amused Kailiffs.
He wasn't ready to die again.
Again?
And then the memory hit him, with unexpected force, in a blinding flash of light and the recollection of unbearable pain. Under the hands of the two Kailiffs, his skin seemed to turn white-hot, and something inside him cried out, pushing the brilliant light and the intense pain away from him, hurling it away, away....
"No!"
"What the - "
The Kailiffs dropped him and staggered back, but he barely noticed. He hit the floor of the freight car with a thump and lay there, gasping, for a moment.
"No! I'm burning! I'm burning!"
It took a few minutes before he realized that the voice that he had just heard crying out wasn't his own.
When he could move, he lifted his head slightly, flinching as his neck insisted loudly that moving was a very bad idea, and looked around.
The two Kailiffs were gone.
He stayed where he was for a long time, feeling the train jolt along on its way, and wondering.
What had he just done?
Who was he?
What was he?
"Abby!" Cordelia grinned as she opened the office door. "Need a hand?"
"Ha, very funny. I feel like a kangaroo with this thing." Abby McDonald was carrying her infant daughter, Kathy, in one of the sling pouches that had been popular a few years ago. Kathy didn't seem to mind, but Abby was struggling as she made her way through the door.
"Have you figured out yet why those contraptions went out of style?"
"Hey, so I did miss a couple of years of the latest fashion trends while I was dead. So, sue me."
"No thanks, I'll leave that to your hubby."
"Who is fine, by the way, and I won't put you to the annoyance of asking."
"Much appreciated, and more to the point, or at least for me, how are you? And the little one?"
"We'll both be much better when I can sit down."
Abby made her way to the couch in the office, sat down heavily with a whuff of relief, and began settling herself and the baby. "I swear, when I waddle around with that thing, I might as well still be pregnant. Is Angel back yet?"
"No, but it isn't major world-saveage this time, just minor patching up, so he will be back soon. Don't worry, we have plenty of time before the party. Get as comfortable as you can. Like a cappuccino?"
"No thanks, staying off caffeine for now."
Cordelia shrugged. "Suit yourself. I can't get enough of the stuff."
"Hmmm, yeah."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Cordelia laughed as she sat down next to Abby.
"Just that you're wired enough as it is, but don't mind me. I'm just practicing for motherhood."
"Give it a few years before you start getting on to the major vices," Cordelia advised drily. "You're not going to be counting my drinks at David's party tonight, are you, just for practice?"
"No," Abby laughed, "I think I can wait."
She shifted the baby on her lap, and Cordelia asked: "May I hold her for a minute?"
"Sure."
Cordelia was cautious, almost tentative, as she took the baby from Abby, carefully supporting the infant's head. "She's so small. It's hard to believe anyone can be that small, and still be a person."
"Oh, she's very much that," Abby responded, gratefully stretching her shoulders and arms, now freed for the moment from the extra weight. "I can see Kathleen's personality in her already."
Cordelia cradled the baby in her lap, under Abby's watchful eyes. "She's so adorable."
"I know."
Abby noticed the look of sadness that shadowed Cordelia's expression for a moment. "You'll have your own child someday, Cordy," she said gently. "You're not even twenty yet, you have plenty of time."
"I know." Cordelia stared down into the baby's face. "My only pregnancy so far has been the whole demon-spawn thing. After that ... well, I just wonder sometimes, you know."
"Don't we all?"
"Well, you used to know everything, didn't you? I mean, when you were an angel - a Child of the Light. You didn't have to wonder then, you knew."
"Some things. Not everything." Abby took the baby back from Cordelia's hands, seeing the troubled look still lingering on her face. "You're thinking of Francis, aren't you?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Not to everybody," Abby assured her. "I think you've got Angel pretty well fooled."
"Yeah well, he has enough brooding going on without me getting in his face too often about missing Doyle. He's definitely been less broody, though, since Kathy was born."
"I'm glad of that. You know, I think leaving you behind was the one thing Francis regretted most. With that demon pregnancy, and when you were in the hospital with the visions, he was absolutely beside himself. He kept saying that if he were still alive, those things would never have happened."
"Well, that's true enough, I guess. I probably wouldn't have been seeing that other guy at all, if Doyle were still alive, and I sure wouldn't have had the never-ending vision." Cordelia sighed. "We never even got to the first date, Abby. So it's not like, you know, Buffy sending Angel to hell or anything, it was just.... there was so much that didn't happen, you know? So much that might have been."
Abby came to a decision. Holding the baby against her with one hand, she reached out the other and clasped Cordelia's fingers lightly. "Would you like to know whether the two of you would have, you know, what might have been? Or would you rather not?"
Cordelia drew in a breath sharply. "Do you know?"
"Yes. I remember Francis wanting to know what would have happened, if he hadn't taken Angel's place that night."
"And they told him?"
"Francis has a way of wheedling information out of people, even when they're not exactly people, if you get my drift. He pushed until they gave in, until they showed him at least some of what could have been."
"Please tell me, Abby."
"Most of it wasn't good," Abby said slowly. "There were a lot of people who would have died, without Angel. A lot of things in the world would have been worse, but the one thing he did regret was what might have been with you."
Cordelia stared at her hands. "He was so ashamed of being half-demon, he never actually told me himself. I had to find out from somebody else, you know?" She sighed, glancing back to the baby with a wistful smile. "If we ever really did get together, we probably wouldn't have had any children, anyway."
Abby shrugged lightly, glad that Cordelia wasn't looking at her face. She'd always been a lousy liar. "Maybe not, but a baby doesn't have to be your own...."
Abby's voice trailed off. Cordelia was still looking away from her, staring into Kathy's face instead.
Taking a deep breath, Abby continued: "The important part was, he really cared for you. He wanted to be with you, but he knew that the price was just too high."
"Yeah, well, I wasn't consulted on that decision, was I?"
"No. But, hey, I wasn't consulted on coming back to life, either. It worked out all right."
"Yeah, that's true." Cordelia's gaze was still fixed on Kathy. "But, babies, they really do get to you, don't they? Even part-demon babies," Cordelia whispered.
She looked down at the floor, then abruptly stood up.
"Abby, can you excuse me for a few minutes? I'll be right back."
"I understand."
Abby watched Cordelia hurry off, and wondered if she had done the right thing. There was a good reason why mortals weren't supposed to be told these things, after all.
Looking down at her daughter, Abby murmured, "I wish we could do something more for her. I know what it's like to be separated from someone you love."
The baby gazed back at her, but a small gurgling sound was her only reply.
Inside the Wolfram and Hart building, in Lindsey McDonald's office, he
stood staring out the window - not realizing that he was not alone. Beside him,
Abby sat on the edge of the windowsill, looking up at him sadly.
"Why do you
stay here?" She asked softly, even though she knew he couldn't hear her.
Lindsey watched the city below and drifted off to a happier time in his
life. He was, it seemed not that long ago, a loving husband - looking
forward to being a father. "I miss you so much, baby," he muttered to
himself.
Abby sighed. "I know you do, sweetie." She reached out instinctively to
touch him on the shoulder. She wanted to comfort him somehow, but her hand
merely passed through him and he shuddered from her cold touch.
He turned
and touched his shoulder - wondering why the sudden chill - then shrugged it
off and went to sit back down at his desk.
There was a flash of white light and a winged Doyle appeared. "Abby? There
ya are." He stepped closer to her, smiling. "I been lookin' all over fer ya.
Kathy finally told me this was one of yer favorite haunts." He observed the
troubled look on her face and added. "No pun intended."
Abby faked a smile at her friend. "Francis, how are you?"
"I'm fine, well, for a dead guy." He became more and more concerned as he
sensed a deep sadness within her. "How 'bout you? Yer lookin' a bit down in
the dumps, darlin'."
"I'm all right." Abby got up from her place by the window.
"Aw, now come on." Doyle insisted. "I got the sense now, like you, remember?
I can tell somethin's wrong." He pointed over at Lindsey, who was now
looking through some files on his desk. "And what are you doing here?
Hangin' out with these Wolfram and Hart bastards."
"They're not all bastards." Abby said, getting a bit defensive.
"Sometimes...people make the wrong decisions because they don't think they
have a choice. A lot of the people here were pulled into this by desperation,
not because they are just evil bastards."
"Oh, really?" Doyle said skeptically. "Well, you'll excuse me if I don't
shed any tears for these guys on the day Angel brings this entire outfit
down."
Abby looked over at Lindsey and nodded as she watched him rubbing his
temples - a headache coming on.. "I hope he does one day," she said.
Doyle followed Abby's eyes over to Lindsey. "So, what's this shmuck's deal?"
Abby turned back to Doyle, insulted. "He is not a schmuck! Do you even know what the word means?"
"Whatever." Doyle stepped closer to Lindsey. "I bet he's just some spoiled
rich kid who's just mad because his daddy wouldn't buy him a helicopter for
his 18th birthday."
Abby shook her head. "You couldn't be more wrong."
"Well, I'll just have to take a gander at this guy's soul then, now that I can." Doyle
smiled in anticipation, and shut his eyes. Doyle had just begun to use his new empathic powers
to reach inside the man's heart when he opened his eyes - surprised at what
he'd found. "He's ....he's lost somebody. .... somebody he loved a whole lot."
"I know." Abby said softly - tears beginning to well up in her own eyes as
she remembered the look on Lindsey's face the day she died in his arms.
"There's somethin' else." Doyle tried to reconcile his opinion of the
Wolfram and Hart types with what he was sensing in this man - a deep regret
and an overwhelming grief. "A child... .I think he lost a child too."
"He did." Abby said. They watched Lindsey go into his desk drawers to get
some aspirin. He fumbled through the things there for a moment - coming
across a picture instead.
Doyle stepped closer, curious, as Lindsey took the picture out and traced the
curves of the pretty face in it. Doyle recognized the woman in the picture
but still had to do a double take. He glanced back at Abby and then at the
picture again before returning his gaze to her.
"Yer hubby, I presume," he said, rather stunned.
"Yes." Abby nodded and stepped closer.
"Were ya together long?" Doyle asked, now understanding the reason for
Abby's pain.
"Twenty years." She said, adding softly. "And before that, several lifetimes."
"That is a long time." Doyle suddenly felt ashamed of some of the comments
he'd made earlier - the feelings of the two people washing over him all at
once. "Listen, I didn't mean to-"
"It's all right." Abby waved one small hand at him. "I don't blame you for
it."
"Abby." Doyle felt tears in his eyes as their feelings began to overwhelm
him. "He's thinkin' about the baby." Lindsey leaned forward and placed his
head in his hands - shutting his eyes and trying to make the pain go away.
Abby watched Lindsey - feeling everything he was feeling. "I know."
"I was supposed to be a father too." Doyle swallowed hard, trying to shake
it off. "I....." he looked into her teary green eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry
that had ta happen to ya."
"I know." Abby said, trying to keep herself together. "But what's done is
done. We can't change that."
"No," Doyle said, calming himself. "I guess not."
Abby watched Lindsey staring at her picture. She wanted to be able to hold
him and comfort him so much at the moment. 'He feels so alone now.' She
thought, then muttered. "It is both a blessing and a curse."
"What?" Doyle asked.
"This gift...the empathic powers..." Abby explained. "When I first found out
what he really did here, I was so angry with him...I didn't even want to
look at him...but then when I did...I could feel everything...his pain over
losing me and the baby...his loneliness...his regret...I couldn't hate
him...not knowing how much he truly loves me."
"It's rough." Doyle said, putting one comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Bein' separated from somebody ya love."
Abby turned to him sensing his own feelings of regret and lost love. "You're
thinking of that girl."
"Yeah." Doyle said. "We didn't exactly have what you had, but...." He shrugged
slightly remembering an earlier talk with the Powers That Be. "There could
have been somethin'. There could have been."
There was a tentative knock on the office door. Abby and the baby were still alone in the office.
Abby frowned uncertainly, unsure if she should answer the door. She could almost hear Lindsey's voice in her head, warning her not to open the door of an office like Angel's when she was there alone. Who knew what might be on the other side of that door?
The knock came again, a little harder, but still sounding unsure. Abby settled the baby safely on the couch, a little worried but knowing that she wasn't old enough to roll off yet. That was from the sequel to 'Pregnancy for Dummies,' called 'The First Year for Dummies.' She couldn't help a brief smile at the thought of her husband reading that book, as she went to the door.
When she opened it, her first thought was that Lindsey would have been right. What stood on the other side of the door wasn't human.
Her second glance told her that what stood on the other side of the door was no threat to her, or anyone else.
A slender, young-looking demon was slumped awkwardly against the side of the doorway. He looked exhausted and thoroughly battered. In a voice that wasn't much more than a whisper, he asked: "Angel Investigations?"
"Yes. Come on in, you look terrible. Have a seat." Abby found herself fussing, although she wasn't quite sure why. "Angel will be back shortly."
Moving slowly, as though it hurt to walk, the young demon entered the office. He glanced around, and gave her a confused look. "You work here?"
"Well, no. Actually I don't, but the receptionist stepped out for a moment. She'll be right back. You look like you really should sit down."
Abby went back over to the couch, drawn irresistibly back to the baby. She glanced back at the visitor with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, but my daughter... "
Keeping an eye on him, Abby picked up Kathy again and settled her onto her lap. The demon looked like he was about to keel over at any moment, and she wanted to make sure he didn't fall on the baby.
"You look hurt. Why don't you sit down?" she urged again, noticing the way he stopped walking and closed his eyes, as though he were dizzy.
"I'll be all right. How old is she?"
"Only fifteen days old," Abby said proudly.
Confused, Artie stared at the woman and the baby. He hadn't expected to see them here. But why was he surprised? He hadn't expected much of anything that had happened in the past few days.
He knew that he had to come here, to Los Angeles, and to the office of Angel Investigations. But he still wasn't entirely sure why.
If a run-in with two Kailiff demons wasn't enough, he hadn't had anything to eat or drink in days, and he was sure that he wouldn't be able to get up again if he sat down.
A 'Billy D' would sure hit the spot about now. Where had that thought come from? What was a 'Billy D' anyway?
There was something eerie and familiar about the child and her mother. He would have sworn he had seen that face and that pretty smile before, but he couldn't have, could he? The woman didn't seem to recognize him, or at least she didn't say anything if she did, and the child....
He moved a little closer to where the woman and the child sat on the couch. The mother gave him a wary look as he approached, but she didn't move away. He looked down at the baby's face and was immediately captivated by her gaze.
He couldn't have met the child before. She was just a newborn. He looked down into her beautiful blue eyes, and knew that he had looked in them before. He felt sure of it, but they weren't blue then, they were brown.
Artie tried to shake off the feeling and looked back at the baby's mother.
"Congratulations, she's beautiful."
"Thank you," Abby said, smiling kindly at the stranger.
Inside Artie's mind, a white light flickered, and suddenly he could remember being there in the office before, but not with the mother and child.
He was with a man, an old friend. The tall dark man plunked himself down on the couch by the window. It was night but the man was still there.
'Another late night?' Doyle thought, being careful to stay hidden behind the door of Angel's inner office . 'He really should get out more' He shook his head, 'and not just to wallop the bad guys.' Doyle heard a tiny scurry in the corner of Angel's office and glanced over.
"A mouse?" he muttered softly.
"What did you say?" Abby asked - sensing something oddly familiar about the man.
Artie shook his head. "No, nothing, I ....uh." He glanced back down at the child. "She's so tiny. I'm sorry, I'm not used to babies."
"That's all right, she seems to like you."
Without intending it, he found himself putting out a finger, and the child's small hand closed around it. "Hey there, little mouse," he whispered.
"What did you call her?" Abby tilted her head quizzically, wondering about the growing feeling that this was no stranger after all.
"No offense. She just reminded me of someone .... something...."
Was he going insane? What was it about this baby and her mother? Another light flashed in his head.
He was back with the man and the mouse as he was before, but now the mouse had turned into a young girl - with long brown hair and soulful brown eyes.
"Hello," she whispered sadly, being careful to remain hidden from Angel in the office. She looked worried as Angel turned his head slightly like he had heard them. They both remained silent for a moment and then Angel shrugged off the sound and lay down on the couch. The girl waved to Doyle to step back into the office a bit so that Angel wouldn't hear them.
"Hiya," Doyle finally whispered, more than a little curious. "My name is-"
"Francis." She forced a smile, though her heart was breaking. "I know, I'm Kathleen."
"Kathleen," Doyle smiled back a bit. He couldn't help but notice as he looked into her eyes - what a very old soul she must have had. "Nice ta meet cha. Ummm.." He glanced over at Angel. "Ya know this guy?"
"Yes," Kathleen nodded slightly. "He's my brother."
"Are you all right?" Abby asked - breaking up Artie's memory.
"Wha-?" Artie asked, in a daze. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
Abby tilted her head slightly at the stranger. "Have we met before? I don't know your face, but you seem so familiar."
Artie shook his head. "I don't think so.... I..."
A white light flashed in Artie's head again.
The woman was sitting by the window of an office building. The sun streamed in, lighting up her red hair and white wings..
'Wings?' Artie thought. 'Not the wings again. Now I know I'm going crazy.'
He remembered wanting desperately to see her smile again but her face was strained and melancholy as she watched a man working at his desk. Suddenly, he could feel what they were feeling all at the same time.
A lost love ... .a lost child.
Artie had tears in his eyes as he remembered sensing the man and the woman's despair and pain. But somehow, he knew that was all over now. The woman was happy again, and the child....
The child.... The child who would have been....
Kevin?
No, not Kevin. An old grief stirred within him, and he found himself pushing it aside as though he had done it many times before. There was no Kevin, because Kevin never was...
He swayed on his feet, looking at the baby.
"Little mouse, is that you?" he whispered uncertainly, then glanced back at the woman with panic in his eyes. "Abby?"
Then the dizziness overcame him, and he fell.
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