•••

“They’re gone,” Fred whispered forlornly. Gunn, Xander, Angel and Lorne stood around her, staring at nothing. It had all happened so fast, really, and none of them could quite believe it.

It had all started when Wesley had translated the prophecy. ‘The father shall kill the son’ kept appearing, no matter what he did. He kept at it, though, suspicious for some reason. “It’s just too perfect,” He’d said, noting that rarely did such translations end up so very clear. “Look at Shansu.”

Even amidst the growing tide of evidence pointing toward Angel as the murderer of Connor, no one had given up hope. Things like Wolfram & Hart’s contamination of Angel and Wil’s blood with Connor’s had just shored up their confidence in the falsehood of the prophecy. Unfortunately, forces well beyond their control were at play.

The investigators split their time between trying to decipher the prophecy and keeping Holtz and his thugs from hurting Angel. Both tasks took up all their energy; Wesley co-opted Wil, Fred and Oz to help him with the book work, while the rest of the gang attempted to slow Holtz’s efforts. It never occurred to them that the two were related.

They never knew the role of the demon Sahjahn until it was too late. The insanely vengeful man managed to get Connor one night, eluding even Angel’s watchful gaze. Once they realized the infant was gone, the whole team mobilized.

It was pure, blind luck that the group containing Wesley, Wil, Oz and Cordelia reached Sahjahn and Holtz first. They were just in time to see what the demon intended. As one, they rushed the enemy. Instead of preventing what was going to happen, they disappeared along with Holtz—and Connor. The other investigators arrived right as they vanished.

“We’ll get them back,” Angel said shakily. “We have to, you know?” Fred nodded sadly.

“Yeah,” she replied.

Xander and Gunn looked at each other. How was that going to happen? Before they could ask Angel, he ran off. “Where’d he go?” Xander asked.

Lorne shrugged. “Who knows?”

•••

A week later, they were wishing they’d bothered to find out. Huge red pentagrams, rifts in the fabric of reality, and weird slugs that just wouldn’t go away kept the remaining investigators quite busy. Gunn and Lorne commiserated about Angel’s behavior, comparing it to the last time he’d gone ‘bad.’ They both agreed that this was much worse.

It didn’t seem to matter that his vampiric champion was gone; Xander still had mind-splitting visions on a regular basis. Angel helped out only occasionally; the rest of the time the others made up for his noninvolvement. After the ramifications of Angel’s meddling in dark magic became apparent, that job became even harder. It was difficult to fend off evil when your best fighter was AWOL.

“We’ve got to do something about Xander,” Lorne said to Gunn. The migraine-like visions were so bad the boy’s eyes were bleeding and he was bedridden most of the time. Like the others, Xander’s mental condition wasn’t very good. The chances of getting their friends back was slim to none, which meant everyone but Lorne was in mourning for a lost mate. He’d just begun to like having Oz around, and now the werewolf was gone forever. Gunn knew how he felt.

“What, though? I mean, just how many options are there? The Powers That Be were pretty clear that he’s a vision-boy,” Gunn replied.

Fred walked in just in time to catch the drift of the conversation. “Maybe we can ask them to make him something else?”

“What would that do?” Gunn asked.

Fred thought for a moment. “Well, Angel said once that his first seer was part demon, and that kept the visions from really hurting him. And now that Cordelia’s a…well…” Fred’s voice faded off when she mentioned the absent seer.

“You think they’d go for it?” Gunn asked of Lorne.

The green demon shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, sweetcheeks. It’s worth a shot, though. I mean, it’s not like Angel’s being any help right now."

Lorne led the group, carrying Xander, to the Oracles. They were not pleased to see the investigators.

“Why are you here?” One of them asked angrily.

Lorne just cocked an eyebrow. “We need your help.”

“Begone,” The other said dismissively.

“If you want to keep using this boy, you’re going to have to help him,” Lorne said, ignoring the order to leave.

“'Cause those visions are killing him,” Gunn added starkly.

“And that’s a bad thing,” Fred chimed in. Xander looked at her incredulously. Bad thing, indeed.

“And you want us to do what?” The first Oracle asked.

“Well, when Cordelia turned into a werewolf, the headaches went away. Isn’t there something you could turn him into to make them leave?” Fred asked nervously.

The Oracles studied Xander, as well as the others. “We can make you something else,” They finally told Xander.

“Like what?” He asked suspiciously.

The Oracles didn’t bother to answer him. They just waited silently.

“Well, what do you think?” Xander asked Lorne.

“It’s up to you, honey. There are worse things than being something else, whatever that means,” Lorne replied.

Xander made up his mind. “Ok, fine. Do your best.”

A soft, green glow surrounded Xander. A moment later, it was gone. “How do you feel now?” Fred asked worriedly.

“Dizzy,” Xander answered. “But better, I think.”

“Go away now,” The Oracles ordered. The investigators found themselves unceremoniously tossed out of the temple.

“Well, that was rude,” Lorne said, shaking his head. “We better get back to the Hotel.”

“So, what did they make you?” Gunn asked Xander.

The boy shook his head. “I dunno, but as long as it takes the pain away and doesn’t make me drink blood, I’m cool with it.”

“Of course, considering the number of demonic species that feed off humans…there’s a good chance that you—“ Fred was cut off by Xander.

“Nope, not going there. I’m going to be a nice, cuddly demon,” Xander insisted.

“Right,” Gunn muttered.

•••

When they got back to the hotel, they found the place in a shambles. More of whatever had come through the on-again, off-again rip in their lobby was busy trashing the place. Angel was nowhere to be found, so they jumped in the fray. Fortunately, the evil beasties weren’t so tough this time and they managed to get rid of them with a minimum of gore and bloodshed.

“You know, I’m getting a bit tired of this,” Xander huffed as he collapsed on the stairs.

“I’m with you, man. Where the hell is Angel, anyway?” Gunn responded angrily.

“Here,” Angel said from the doorway.

“Angel! Where have you been?” Fred cried from her spot on the floor.

The vampire sighed tiredly. “Trying to find a way to get them back.”

Lorn shook his head. “And no luck, I presume?”

“None,” Angel replied. “I’m not getting anywhere.”

“Well, why don’t you get nowhere here? We could use the help, you know,” Gunn said shortly. “Cause this is looking a lot like the last time all wasn’t bright and shiny in Angel-land.”

Angel winced. “Ok, ouch, I deserved that.”

“'Cause we’re all suffering too, you know,” Gunn added. “Connor’s not the only one gone. Wil, Cordy, Wes, and Oz are all over there. And we all miss all of them.” Fred and Xander nodded their agreement.

Angel slumped down next to Xander. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…I had them so close, it’s like somebody let me into heaven and then…”

“You were shown a ham and given a weenie,” Xander summarized.

Angel grimaced. “Crude, but effective.” Angel sniffed the air a couple of times. “Something smells…” He turned to Xander. “Why do you smell like a demon, Xander?”

Xander grinned nervously. “Maybe because I am one?”

“What?” Angel screeched, jumping up.

“See what you miss when you go all ‘I want to be alone?’” Lorne said. “We took him to the Oracles because the visions, visions you weren’t helping with, were killing him.”

Angel’s sudden anger deflated. “Oh. Well. Um…what are you, anyway?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Xander said. “It was a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ thing.”

“I see,” Angel said, clearly not seeing. “I hope it works out for you.”

“What do we do now?” Fred asked nervously.

“Good question,” Gunn replied. “I got no idea, though.”

“We move on, that’s what,” Xander said firmly.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Gunn said harshly.

Xander got up. “It means we start going again. Fighting the bad guys, saving the good guys—what we do for a living, you know? Yeah, they’re gone, and yeah, I’m really sad about it. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t sleep most nights 'cause Oz isn’t here. But we have to do something,” Xander said, pacing. “And not just sit around here trying to open a portal that doesn’t exist. We’ve been doing patchwork jobs here, just taking care of the visions while Angel piddles in bad mojo. There’s got to be something we can do.”

“He’s right, you know,” Fred finally said.

“Doesn’t make it any easier,” Gunn replied. “But I know he’s right.”

“We’ll think of something, don’t you worry,” Lorne said confidently.

•••

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Angel moaned as he surveyed the disaster below him. He peered down over the second-floor railing, watching as construction crews demolished parts of his lobby. At the same time, the gang was hauling the last of their belongings up to the sixth floor, where everything was being stored temporarily.

The investigators, and Lorne, had spent a couple of weeks trying to find their feet after Xander’s transformation. Each did it in their own way: Angel brooded, Fred did formulas on any bare wall she could find, Gunn killed things and Xander ate junk food. At least whatever he’d become had a good metabolism.

Lorne proved to be the most disruptive. He no longer had Caritas or Connor to occupy him, so he became a hovering nuisance. Finally, Angel had exploded, telling the green demon to go open a club somewhere and leave them alone, or Angel was going to rip his head off.

“And just where should I open this club?” Lorne shot back.

“Timbuktu. Dubai. Harlem. Hells, the living room, for all I care. Just stop pestering me!” Angel had shouted.

Apparently, Lorne had taken Angel at his word, immediately calling in construction crews to turn part of the first floor of the Hyperion into a club. Angel had woken up one evening to find the place half-destroyed.

Lorne was standing in the middle of the carnage, gleefully directing workers. “Lorne, you have two seconds before I kill you.”

Lorne smiled sweetly. “You did say I could open a club in your living room.”

Angel closed his eyes and reached for inner strength. “I was exaggerating.”

“Oh. You should have said something. It’s a bit late now, don’t you think?” Lorne replied.

“Angel, where are we gonna work?” Gunn said from the doorway. “I mean, this is going to be a night club.”

Angel looked around what was once a nice lobby. Well, at least Lorne appeared to be staying within the style of the hotel. “Lorne, have the second, third, fourth and fifth floors redone, completely. Make the second floor office and library space. Pay for it yourself, and you can have the club.”

Lorne looked ready to argue about the added expense, but one look from a gamefaced Angel stopped him cold. “Fine,” He huffed, going off to find the foreman.

So now most of the hotel was being ripped apart. Angel had convinced his fury acquaintances to cast some interesting wards on the hotel, so that enemies like those from Wolfram & Hart couldn’t get in. He was still obsessive and paranoid, however, so most of his gang spent their time making sure the place wasn’t being booby-trapped. Lorne had hired the best, though, so there wasn’t likely to be a repeat of his conniving electrician.

The lounge singer also made good on the refurbishment of the upper floors of the hotel, which were well on their way to being functional office and living space. Angel had taken over their design, making sure that the traditional hotel rooms were replaced with apartments. Wolfram & Hart had made ugly noises about the goings-on in the hotel, but a few well-placed deaths among their nonhuman ranks silenced them. Also, Angel’s particularly brutal behavior had convinced them to keep their distance for a while. Angel knew that they’d be back sooner or later, probably sooner, but he didn’t want to deal with them right now.

He didn’t really want to deal with anything. The pain of waking up alone, of not hearing the gurgles and cries of his son or the snuffling sounds of Wil waking up each evening, was overwhelming. Gaining his soul more than a century ago didn’t compare to how he felt each day, each time he thought of them. He also thought about the others—Cordelia and Wesley were like family to him. Oz, too, was sorely missed. Xander was trying desperately to stay grounded without the quiet werewolf, but it only worked so well.

Gunn joined Angel on the railing. “It’s looking good, Angel,” He said, gesturing up the stairs toward the quarters that were being redone. Angel said nothing.

“Lorne said it would all be ready next week, so we’ll be needing that furniture you promised,” Gunn added. Still, Angel remained quiet.

“And we’re gonna move in Wes and Cordelia’s stuff,” Gunn finished. That got Angel’s attention.

“What?”

Gunn sighed. “We can’t just keep paying their rent, Angel. Dennis will understand about Delia, and Wes, well…”

Angel knew he was right. After all, they really couldn’t afford to pay rent on two empty apartments. “You using your truck?”

“Yeah,” Gunn replied.

“I’ll help.”

•••

“Ok, this time, no fighting, no guns, and no flaming barrels of gasoline. Nothing evil, foul or nasty. This place is not going to be destroyed by gangs—human or demon, by lawyers, or by Angel’s old enemies,” Lorne swore, looking with love over his new club.

“Let’s hope so,” Fred said quietly. “Because I live over this one.”

It had taken two months of round the clock work, but the entire hotel was finished. Lorne even chipped in to fix the remaining holes in the upper floors of the hotel, which got the building pretty much up to code. He called it an investment—that way, he said, Wolfram & Hart couldn’t pull any more code violations on Angel and his group, and Lorne wouldn’t get evicted.

The investigators had moved into their new offices a couple of weeks before. They were luxurious by comparison to their old quarters; there was a desk for each of them, plus several spares, lots of storage, an advanced filing system and a new computer. Fred remarked sadly that Wesley would have loved the new library.

Each of the investigators had laid claim to one of the new apartments. Gunn had pretty much moved into the hotel, although he kept his own place in his old neighborhood. Fred, who had never completely moved out, although she’d taken to spending a lot of time in Wesley’s apartment, became a permanent resident once again. Angel and Xander just moved up a floor.

Gunn, Fred and Xander had agreed to join Lorne at the entrance to Caritas III. Angel had declined to join them for the grand opening. “It’s wonderful,” Xander reassured Lorne. “Very classy.”

“You think so?” Lorne asked nervously. “It’s not the same location, and location’s everything.”

Fred smiled. “I’m sure everybody will love it, Lorne. Just you watch. The place will be packed! People will be crawling out of the woodwork just to see it.”

“I don’t know…” Lorne began. He was stopped by a flash of light coming from the lobby.

“What was that?” He asked as they rushed into the main entranceway.

A swirl of dust obscured their vision. Above the mess, they saw Angel standing at the top of the stairs. He looked as confused as they did. “I heard something,” He said, looking down at the cloud.

“Um, is this a bad thing?” Xander said.

“I guess we’ll have to wait until the literal smoke clears,” Fred replied.

“Fred?”

Fred peered into the cloud. “Did you hear that?” She asked Xander.

Xander nodded. “Yeah, I did.” He walked closer to the mess, which was beginning to settle. He got just to its edge when a hand shot out and grabbed his leg. Xander pulled back, trying to get away. Instead of losing his attacker, he dragged the arm, and the rest of the body attached to it, out of the fog.

“Wesley?”