New Epiphany: Loose Ends

[thebratqueen]

Okay gang, fresh out of the beta-read!



Loose Ends
By: The Brat Queen

Disclaimer: Not mine. All Joss Whedon's, Mutant Enemy's, 20th Century Fox's and all that sort of thing. 'tis but a non-profit, amateur effort, and y'all would need to get in line to sue me anyway.

Spoilers: Up to Epiphany, after which Joss and I go separate ways.

Rated: PG

Summary: Angel wants to fix things. (Part of the Epiphany series, takes place after "Complications")

Thanks to Wolfling for the beta read.

***

"You removed the wall."

Angel looked up from his position in the bathtub. He took in the sight of the debris around him then offered a smile to Wesley. "Hey. You're… home early."

"It's ten in the evening," Wes said, coming into the room. He moved one of the plastic buckets out of his way then navigated around the stacks of tiles. "In point of fact, I'm a bit late, but I didn't want to leave Cordelia before she was ready."

Angel picked up a rag and started to wipe off his hands. "Yeah - good idea. How's she doing anyway?"

"As well as can be expected," Wes replied. "She's still suffering from a headache but at least her nerves have settled. In the morning I'd like to take a look back at our cases from the past few months - see if there's anything that might have triggered this."

"Think maybe we left one unfinished?" Angel asked.

Wes nodded. "Precisely."

"Can do. When you find something just tell me what to hit." Angel came over and kissed Wes hello. He ran his tongue over Wes's mouth, savoring the taste of red wine and the faint smell which suggested he and Cordy had gone out for Italian. "Missed you."

"I missed you as well," Wes said. He ran a finger down Angel's cheek. "Angel?"

He leaned into the touch. "Yeah?"

"*Why* did you remove the wall?"

Angel looked back towards the bathtub. "Oh that. The tiles were loose. Figured I'd fix 'em."

Wes gave him a quick hug, then stepped away to survey the damage. "Indeed. You know I told myself that it would be completely harmless to let you watch The Learning Channel. I see now it's quite impossible to overestimate you."

"I wasn't planning on taking the wall out," Angel defended himself. "Just you pick off one tile and the rest came popping off right after. Good thing I've got the reflexes - they would have broken."

"Tape might have also helped," Wes suggested, miming how a strip of tape could have connected the columns of tiles together.

"Huh, good point," Angel said. "Anyway - don't worry about it. I'm gonna fix it. And it's going to be even *better*."

Wes stepped into the tub and examined the portions of the wall that were exposed. "I'm sure it will. Considering that I can currently see into the next room I'm not entirely certain how it could be *worse*."

"Ha ha," Angel said. He took Wes by the hand and pulled him back into the bedroom. "Here, I've got plans. What do you think about mosaic?"

Wes followed along, trying to shrug out of his coat as he did. "For the bathtub?"

"Yeah," Angel said. He sat Wes down on the bed and got his sketchpad. He flipped it open to show him. "See? I was thinking of this gold and brown and red pattern. Really Art Deco, you know? To kinda match with the hotel?"

Wes looked the picture over. "How many tiles is this?"

"Not many," Angel said. He pointed to the math he'd done in the margins. "See? It's gonna cost a little more but it's not like I'm doing a recreation of the Bible or something - "

"Not as though you *could*," Wes observed.

"It's just a pattern, see?" Angel drew Wes's attention back to it. "I thought - you know - it'd be pretty? Dress the place up a little?"

"Is this possible?" Wes asked. "Given the condition of the room?"

"Yeah," Angel said. "Gotta buy some - um - what's it called?" He turned the page over to read the notes he took over the phone. "Wonderboard. To replace what we've got? But put *that* up and you can put anything on top of it. Guy at the store swears it."

"Hmm - I'm sure he also swore he could swoop in and get you out of this mess for a competitive fee as well," Wes said. He turned back to the design again. "You know this looks rather Celtic?"

"Yeah," Angel said. "I drew it."

Wes smiled at him. "I know, love. It's just that you called it Art Deco. Then again it's not as though I know anything about *any* art, deco or otherwise. That was never my side of the family."

Angel blinked at finding something Wes wasn't familiar with, then again at the family reference. "It wasn't?"

"No," Wes said. He handed the pad back and stood up to remove his shirt. "That was mum's side. I've an uncle in the antiques business. I've visited him on many an occasion and while I can deduce the year of a piece I was never entirely confident in my skills at pinpointing one artistic school of thought versus another."

Angel took in all of this information, trying to plug it into what he knew about Wes's background. "Guess that makes sense. The antiques, I mean. Your family being Watchers and all."

"Precisely," Wes put his shirt away and pulled on the faded blue T-shirt that he liked to sleep in. He exchanged the jeans he was wearing for sweatpants, then came back over again. "So - you've your heart set on this?"

Angel realized they were talking about the tiles again. "Um - not *set*. I mean if it's gonna bug you - "

Wes took the pad from him and studied the picture. "It does look rather pretty. How long will it take?"

"A while," Angel admitted. "But it won't mess up the plumbing or anything. Sink'n all will be fine."

"We can shower in my room then," Wes said. He put the book down on the nightstand and leaned in to kiss Angel. "I trust you'll do a wonderful job of it."

Angel smiled. "Really?"

Wes smiled back. "Really."

***

"'We got ourselves a demon we need help with'," Gunn quoted, shaking his head. "I can't *believe* I fell for that."

"Shaddup and hold still," Angel said. He checked the level of the board then began pounding nails in. "I needed an extra hand."

"What for?" Gunn asked. "To smack you upside the head with? 'Cause if you'd told me *that* I'd'a been here sooner."

"I can't hold this and do the nails at the same time," Angel said. He double checked to make sure he was right over the stud, then hammered the next nail in.

"I suppose," Gunn said. "Except - wait. This is the *heavy* job. Hold up. No way my mortal ass is doing the heavy work. Gimme that hammer."

"But I know where the nails go," Angel protested.

Gunn took the hammer from him anyway. "Pointy end goes in the wall. I think I got it. Now *you* hold still."

"Fine, fine," Angel grumbled. He held the board up. "Just make sure you don't sink 'em. They've gotta be flush."

"Yeah, yeah," Gunn said, speaking around a mouthful of nails as he got to work. "I know. How the Hell did English let you get away with this?"

"Told him I wanted to fix the place up," Angel said. He ducked down to give Gunn room for the next nail. "Make it nice'n all."

"'kay," Gunn said. He accidentally bent one nail. With a quick motion he pulled it out of the wall and started again. "Makes sense I guess. Whole hotel could use a makeover if you ask me."

"Lobby's not so bad," Angel said.

Gunn acknowledged that. "Don't live in the lobby though. What'cha gonna do with all the old tiles?"

"Figured I'd donate 'em," Angel said. "Well - figured I'd put 'em back *up* if Wes didn't like the idea, but now that he does maybe donate them to charity or something. Unless you know somebody?"

Gunn thought about it. "I might. Lemme ask around."

"Take your time," Angel said. "Not like we don't have plenty of storage space."

The first round of nails finished, they moved on to the next board. This time Gunn hit his thumb with the hammer. He bit off a curse then sucked on his finger to ease the pain.

Angel smirked. "Wanna hold the boards again?"

"No way," Gunn said. He brandished the hammer like a weapon. "Gotta show this wall who's boss."

"Well since *you're* the one in pain - "

"Shut *up*," Gunn retorted. He stepped forward and hammered the next nail in deftly, giving Angel a smug look when he was done. "See? All it takes is - "

Angel frowned, hearing something but unable to place it. "Hang on."

"- a little… what?" Gunn asked. He looked around. "Company?"

"No," Angel said. He motioned for silence, concentrating. After a moment he shifted closer to the gaps in the wall, realizing that the pipes were helping to carry the sound to him.

After a few minutes more, he forced himself to stop. "*Fuck*."

"What?" Gunn asked. He glanced at the wall as though he could see.

Angel turned his attention back to the boards. "Wes. Must be in his office."

"Well it *is* a work day'n all," Gunn said. "Last I saw he was looking up shit for Cordy."

"I know," Angel said, "but I can *hear* him." He gestured to indicate where Wes's office was in relation to the bathroom and the path the sound could travel between them. "He's not researching."

Gunn looked like he didn't get it yet. "Then what?"

"He's on the phone," Angel said, shoving the wonderboard into place. "With his *folks*."

"Huh," Gunn said. He started tapping the next nail in. "We don't like them?"

"Dunno about you," Angel said, realizing he had no idea what Gunn knew about Wes's family, "But *I* think they can all go to Hell."

"I'm sensing a protective boyfriend thing," Gunn said.

"Damn straight," Angel said. He shifted position to make more room for Gunn. "Look - don't tell him I said anything?" Gunn nodded. "Thanks. Then yeah, fucking *hate* his family. Wes puts a good face on it but - "

"- English puts a good face on a bullet wound," Gunn agreed. He turned around to get more nails. "'course the morphine helped."

"Exactly," Angel said. "So - wait, what?"

Gunn paused, the hammer in mid-air. "What?"

Angel held the board up with one hand then made a vague gesture to indicate Gunn needed to back the conversation up a bit. "Morphine?"

"Yeah, in the hospital?" Gunn said. "When he was shot? Should've seen it - man was grinning like a damn fool first thing he woke up."

In an instant Angel was able to recall the scene - Wes, in the hospital, looking up at Gunn the way Angel always wished Wes would look at *him*.

Angel chuckled, shaking his head.

Gunn smiled as though trying to get the joke. "What?"

"Nothing," Angel said. He turned his attention back to the wall. "I'm an idiot."

Gunn indicated the chaos around them. "Could've told you *that*. So c'mon, what's the scoop with English Sr.?"

"Fuck if I know," Angel said. "I mean - I know *some* but not enough. Used to be a Watcher. Doesn't like Wes. Gives Wes a *real* hard time about what he's doing - "

"No offense, bro," Gunn said, putting another nail in, "but you expecting his dad to be *happy* his boy's fucking a vamp?"

"Far as we know his dad doesn't *know* his boy's fucking a vamp," Angel said. He stepped away now that the board was secure and picked up the next one. "Council knows something but not like we can find out what. And I told Wes his folks never have to find out about us from me or him if he doesn't wanna. But it's not that."

Gunn helped him move the board into the tub. "Then what?"

"Nothing," Angel said. He lined the board up with the others then squatted down to hold it in place. "Far as I can tell. Wes's dad gives him shit about *nothing*. Just being Wes. And Wes takes it and swallows it and *believes* it and - "

"You get pissed off," Gunn finished.

Angel decided it was a good thing Gunn had taken the hammer from him. "I get *real* pissed off. Wes has enough to deal with - and yeah, I know, I'm high on that list. But he's a *great* guy. Any dad'd be *proud* to have him for a son. But no, not Mr. I Don't Give A Fuck About You Wyndam-Pryce. For *him* Wes isn't good enough."

"What *is* his first name?" Gunn asked.

Angel shrugged. "Dunno. Don't like seeing Wes in pain so I don't ask. He tells me - okay. But I don't bring it up. Figure if Wes wants to be quiet about something he's allowed. Not like I'm chatty about *my* past."

"Yeah but your past he knows, right?" Gunn said. He climbed out of the tub and came in on the other side of Angel to get a better angle with the hammer. "Weren't you famous and shit?"

"Kinda still am," Angel protested, "but yeah. Wes knows. Or knows as much as anybody. Actually - kinda nice. Wes - Wes deals with it better than most."

"Like your old girl?" Gunn asked.

Angel nodded. "Yeah. I mean Buffy tried but - Wes doesn't open up the blinds first thing in the morning."

Gunn helped him move the next board into place. "Ain't she dating a vamp now?"

Angel clamped down on the bitterness that came to him whenever he thought of Buffy and Spike. "Yeah."

Gunn gave him a sympathetic look. "Love's a bitch, man."

"Tell me about it," Angel muttered. He thought about Buffy, then thought about Wes. "I know being with me isn't exactly the best thing that anybody could wish for. Pretty much a thousand things wrong with me as a boyfriend and that's *without* counting the curse and my vampy side. But I'd do anything for Wes. Anything he wanted."

"Okay," Gunn said, picking up more nails. "So what's the problem?"

"Wes doesn't *want* me to talk about his family," Angel said. He pressed the board against the wall. "And he doesn't *want* me to make sure the last words his dad ever speaks are muffled by his god-damn *eyes*."

Gunn gave a low whistle. "Gotcha."

"'course I never *asked* him," Angel continued, "but I'm pretty sure Wes *also* doesn't want me to pull his dad's lungs out through his ribcage, run an icepick through his skull so I can scrape out the insides, then cut him in half from his balls to his eyebrows."

Gunn looked at him. "Do I wanna know why it's from - "

"They live longer if they're upside down," Angel said, flatly.

"Right," Gunn said.

Angel felt the silence between them. He looked up to meet Gunn's eyes. "I'm not gonna."

"I believe you," Gunn said.

"I don't *do* torture anymore," Angel said.

"I'm happy about that," Gunn replied.

"But I see Wes in pain and I just - " Angel tried to think of the right thing to say.

"Wanna protect your boy?" Gunn suggested.

"Yeah," Angel said, turning back to the wall. "That."

***

"All right, gentlemen, quitting time," Wesley said as he appeared in the doorframe. Angel was surprised to see that an entire day had passed. "And, Angel, if you are wearing the new watch I gave you while you are doing all of this I'm going to put a stake through your heart."

Angel quickly pulled the watch off and shoved it into his pocket, grinning at Gunn. "Me? 'course not."

"Indeed," Wes said. He turned to Gunn. "Charles, could you run Cordelia home? Her head's absolutely pounding and as you're leaving anyway - "

"Sure," Gunn said. He moved some tools aside and started washing his hands in the sink. "Just lemme get cleaned up."

Angel shot a guilty look at Wes. "Were we bugging her? With the hammering?"

"She said you weren't," Wes said. "Apparently it's not that kind of headache? Or so she claims. She had a harder time reading than she did listening to things. I let her take calls while I researched."

Angel thought about the one call he knew Wes *had* taken, but decided not to mention it. "Any luck?"

"There's a few cases I'd like for us to look in on again," Wes said. "Starting tomorrow, if possible."

"Sure," Angel said. "Whaddya need?"

"You to question some of our informants," Wesley said, "Gunn needs to look in on the MacPhersons again and I'll be checking in with my media contacts."

Gunn dried his hands. "We looking for anything in particular?"

"I'll give you the list," Wes said. "But essentially we're making sure we've tied up loose ends. I *believe* we did but if Cordelia is still suffering from a vision - "

"Thought she said she didn't get a vision for this," Gunn said.

Wesley shrugged. "She said she couldn't *recall* the vision for this, not that she hadn't gotten one."

"Okay," Angel said, "let's regroup. What are the options here?"

It was obvious Wes had given it a lot of thought. "Option one: unbeknownst to us we did not complete the task the Powers sent to us in one of Cordy's visions and therefore she is still suffering the aftereffects."

"Right," Angel said. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "So we're checking that out tomorrow. What's option two?"

Wes became more serious. "Option two: Cordelia is no longer recovering from her visions even though we are acting upon them."

"That possible?" Gunn asked.

Wes nodded. "Entirely. She's human. Doyle, her predecessor, was not. We've no way of telling the kind of damage the visions might do to one who is not demonic in nature."

"Damn," Gunn said. "We got an option three?"

Wesley shrugged. "Option three: we don't know."

"Yeah we do," Angel said. "Option three: Cordy gets rid of the visions."

"That's a solution," Wes said. "Not an explanation."

"I don't need an explanation," Angel replied. "I'm a results-oriented kind of guy. Cordy hurts. That's bad. I make it stop hurting. We all go out for pizza. The end."

"You would lose your link to the Powers," Wesley said.

"*Fuck* the Powers," Angel said. "They need to talk to me so bad they can send another fucking demon. Or jam the visions in *my* head. Or use a *phone*. I don't need Cordy *bleeding* out her *ears* just so I can get my atonement."

"Amen," Gunn said.

"Be that as it may," Wesley said, "I think we're getting ahead of ourselves. Yes, it's possible that Cordelia may be harmed by her visions, and if that's the case I want a solution to the problem as badly as you gents. *However*, we must go with the possibilities that are before us and the *first* of those is the odd chance that there is still someone out there who needs our help and has been suffering from that need for over a month. I think we would all sleep better if we eliminated that risk, yes?"

"Can we eliminate that risk tonight?" Angel asked.

Wes shook his head. "I'm afraid not. The places I need you to go only open at dawn, but thank you."

"Day in the sewers for me then," Angel said. He looked over the still in-progress shower. "Just as well I can't use this."

"There's one in my room and you will," Wes said, fake sternly.

"Gonna join me?" Angel asked.

"I'm outta here," Gunn said. "Y'all do your thing. Meet up in the morning? Help out our girl?"

"Come early," Wes said. "I'd like for us to get a jump start on this."

"You got it," Gunn said. "I'll be here before sunrise. Want me to bring Cordy?"

"If she's feeling up to it," Wes replied. "I'd like her input. It's possible that she may get a feeling or an impression now that we're reopening the cases."

"I'll grab breakfast too," Gunn said. He pulled his denim jacket on and waved to the both of them as he left.

"Take money out of petty cash," Wes called after him.

"So," Angel said, once they were alone, "seriously - there anything else we need to know about this?"

Wesley shook his head. "You know everything I do. I researched everything I could but…." Wes sighed. "I wish I knew."

"Yeah," Angel said, patting him gently on the back. "Me too."

Fin.