•••

Oz blinked a few times, hoping his vision would clear. At the moment, his sight was limited to a single shade of dark, fuzzy gray. To his dismay, nothing changed after his attempts. Oh well. He sat up slowly, trying not to aggravate the vertigo threatening to send him straight back down. Since he'd decided that his vision was seriously impaired, he was surprised to see things when he was somewhat vertical.

Not much, though. As it turned out, the reason Oz couldn’t see anything was because the lights were off and the windows were drawn. It was also the middle of the night, if the lack of light seeping through the windows was to be believed. Knowing that he had his sight was a relief for the werewolf, so he turned his attention elsewhere.

First off, he catalogued the aches and pains within his own body. They were surprisingly minimal, other than the extraordinary sore that was his head. He was pretty sure his brain was throbbing. Alcohol had never caused a hangover quite this…memorable. It was a good thing that a hostile demon had caused this, since if it had been anything Oz had formerly liked, it would have been on the 'avoid at all costs' lists from now on.

Because of the familiarity of it, Oz didn't notice Xander's presence right away. Once he recalled more of the events of the previous day, however, he realized that it was in fact significant that Xander was well enough to lay on the bed next to him. When he looked, he found that the Raphe was lying flat out on his back, looking for all the world like he'd passed out after a long night of partying. Too bad that wasn't the reason.

Oz leaned down slowly, listening to Xander's heartbeat. It was a comforting sound—steady and strong, telling Oz that nothing was physically wrong with Xander. The young man's mind worried Oz, though—after all, Xander was the empath of the group, and therefore the one most vulnerable to such an attack. What if the Eraen demons had permanently damaged his brain?

It didn't take long for the werewolf to decide that curling up next to Xander was preferable to actually moving, so he snuggled up close and closed his eyes, knowing that he could easily sleep for another few hours. It would probably be what any doctor told him to do anyway. After all, wasn’t that what they always prescribed—bed rest? Well, that and clear fluids, but those could wait until later.

•••

While Oz was falling asleep again, Fred was waiting for Wesley to wake up. She had held a bedside vigil ever since returning from Sunnydale, watching and waiting for the faun to arise. According to Lorne and the 'specialists' he'd consulted, it could be a long time before any of the victims awoke—although they were supposed to be healing. It had been almost three days now, and there was no sign of that happening, however. Wesley just lay there like a corpse. Fred was afraid that if he didn't wake up soon, they were going to have to put an IV and a catheter in, so that they could keep him alive until he made it through. Angel hadn't liked that idea any more than Fred had, but he agreed that it might be the only option.

It was almost midnight, though, and Fred was exhausted from sitting up all day. She drew her legs under her and curled up in the easy chair she'd dragged over by the bed to sit watch. A blanket snatched from Wesley's stored belongings completed her makeshift sleeping area. They had never bothered to really set up his place in the hotel; when he'd returned from his exile in the demon dimension he'd just moved in with Fred. For the past year, they had been simply getting things out of boxes as needed. Fred had grabbed a few blankets and things from there—ones she hadn't gotten when he'd disappeared, that is, because they were so comforting. It didn't seem right for her to sleep in bed with him when he was incapacitated, so she stayed in the chair, covered with afghans and quilts that smelled just like him.

Fred felt horrible about what had happened to Wesley. Like the others, she was wracked with 'what ifs'. What if she had been here—could she have helped him? Prevented the entire episode? She wasn't so egotistical that she thought that her presence would have simply made everything go away, but she couldn't help but think that it might have changed something, anything that might have kept Wesley from being in the state he was now.

It didn't help any that the situation in Sunnydale had actually been improving—it just made leaving there more painful. While she and Buffy would never be friends, they had finally come to some sort of agreement—Buffy stopped talking about Fred like she was a half-wit flunky and Fred stopped talking right over Buffy's head—which took much more effort on Fred's part than Buffy's, because the so-powerful Slayer's extensive knowledge of slaying didn't include a very big vocabulary.

Dawn was where Fred was most pleased. The teenager exhibited excellent raw talent for taking care of herself and others, an ability that with a bit of honing would make her a formidable enemy or protector. Although she could always be wrong, Fred foresaw Dawn becoming a better, if not more powerful, player in the good-and-evil fight than Buffy was. It was Fred's theory that the lack of slayerness in Dawn gave her an advantage. Like her sister, she was quick to find the evil in a situation and kick its ass. Unlike her sister, though, Dawn didn't walk into every incident assuming that the 'bad' person wasn't human, and that the people were the good guys. She was also willing to admit that sometimes there were no clear bad and good guys, and that sometimes a swift kick and a happy stake weren't the best ways to solve a problem. In many cases, such acceptance of the gray areas of slaying were a disadvantage; fighters spent too long in an ambiguous decision-making state and ended up dead. Fortunately for Dawn, she had a lightening quick mind and knew when to think and when to kill.

Of course, Willow was still both Fred and Gunn's niggling worry. As the weeks passed, the Witch became better at taking care of herself—she finally stopped drooling and freezing. Now she took decent care of herself, managing to bathe and dress daily. She still had to be reminded to eat, although she now fed herself if food was given to her. She was still silent, though, and completely nonresponsive to questions. Most of her day was spent staring at walls, waiting for someone to tell her to go somewhere or do something. Just before Wil's phone call, Fred and Gunn had decided to demand that Buffy let Willow be seen by a professional with experience treating such cases. There were doctors in L.A. who knew how to treat trauma and magickal burnout like what Willow was suffering. They hadn't come up with a way to do that before being recalled to L.A., however.

•••

Gunn watched desperately as Cordelia's eyelids fluttered. It was the first movement he'd seen her make in the three days he'd been watching her. His heart almost broke when she stopped moving, only to find life again when her eyes suddenly popped open.

"Ow."

"Delia?" Gunn whispered, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Talk to me, baby."

"I hurt," She said in a whisper. "My eyes really hurt."

"Do you want the light off?" Gunn asked. He'd turned it on to clean up a few minutes ago, but could easily switch it off again.

"Please," Cordelia asked. Once the light was off, she relaxed a little. "Better, thanks."

"How do you feel?" Gunn asked, worry evident in his voice.

"Like hell," Cordelia shot back. "Those demons are really, really mean. I hope someone hurt them a lot."

"I think they all got away," Gunn said without thinking.

Cordelia growled. "Got away? What about all those kids?"

Gunn smiled, knowing that Cordelia's first questions would be about the other victims. "Most of them are ok—they stayed unconscious for a few days but the majority of them have already gone home."

"Good," Cordelia whispered.

"Of course, the police have come up with half a dozen explanations for what went on," Gunn continued. "First it was nerve gas, then it was food poisoning, and I think right now their favorite is mass electrocution."

Cordelia chuckled. "Right. I'd go with the nerve gas thing, myself."

"You would," Gunn shot back. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm just really tired," Cordelia answered. "Like I haven't slept in days."

Gunn shook his head. She lies there comatose for three days and wants a nap. "Sleep then. I'm gonna to tell the vamps that you're ok." He waited until she fell asleep again before leaving to go downstairs. What he would have really liked was to talk to her a little longer, but if she needed to sleep, so be it. They had time.

He found Wil and Angel in the library, scouring through several thick, dusty texts. The pair had devoted all their waking hours to research since the incident, trying to find out several things, such as what the Eraen demons were after, what Wolfram & Hart might be planning, and what they could do to help their friends. Gunn was no longer mad at them; he knew that what had happened wasn't their fault—and that had they been there, in all likelihood all six of them would be dead now. The attack had been so well planned that had Angel and Wil been with the others, they would have been taken down too.

Gunn could tell, though, that Wil wasn't reacting well to the situation. The blonde stayed up long after he should have gone to bed, reading and taking notes on just about everything. Angel was making a concerted effort to keep Wil on a somewhat even keel, and it was working to some extent. The only thing that was ever really going to help him, though, was seeing all of his friends awake and whole.

"Guys?" Gunn said, waiting for the vampires to acknowledge him.

Angel looked up. "Hmm?"

"Delia woke up."

Wil jumped out of his chair. "How is she? Did she say anything? Can we see her?"

"Fine, yes, and no. She went back to sleep," Gunn said. "She woke up, but was really tired and her head hurt. She thinks she's ok, though—she just needs sleep," Gunn elaborated.

Wil visibly relaxed. "Ah. You haven't heard from the others, have you?"

Gunn shook his head. "They're still down, as far as I know."

"But this is a very good sign," Angel said. "The others should be awake soon."

"I hope so," Gunn said. "Because this place is too quiet, even with Lorne downstairs."

"Xander certainly knew how to liven the place up," Angel remarked.

"Xander? Nah, it's that crazy boyfriend of his. Never shuts up," Gunn retorted. Wil laughed at his joke, the first time anyone had seen a positive emotion out of him for days.

"Actually, all of those wild orgies they throw with Fred and Wesley keep me up all night," Wil added facetiously. "Between them and you and Cordelia, I never get any sleep at all. Hormone crazed children."

Gunn choked on his laughter. "Us? Hormone-crazed? Um, you're the one that admitted to Delia that vampires have no recovery time. We always wondered how you two could go at it like that."

Angel blushed—a difficult thing for a vampire to do. "At least we're not as loud as Xander."

"True," Gunn said, smirking. "But I think I've got just the thing for that."

"What?" Wil asked curiously.

The smirk on Gunn's face widened. "Ball gag."

Angel nearly fell on the floor. "You didn't."

Gunn nodded enthusiastically. "Yup. Once everything's settled around here, I'm gonna give it to Oz."

"Why Oz?" Wil asked.

"Cause if I give it to him, it'll get used. If I hand it to Xander, it'll get thrown away," Gunn explained. "It's funny, but it's also serious. You two don't live as close to them as we do."

"Close enough," Angel muttered. "And we have better hearing."

"So what are we gonna do about Wolfram & Hart?" Gunn asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"Do?" Wil echoed.

"Yeah, *do,*" Gunn repeated. " As in, how are we going to pay them back for this little trick—and all the others?"

Angel slumped down in a chair. Wil followed him. "I'm not sure that we can do anything."

"Or that we should," Wil added.

Gunn stared at them in shock. "What?"

Angel sighed. "For one, they're a huge organization. Do you have any idea what we'd be going up against?"

"So we just keep getting beat up because they're bullies?" Gun snapped.

"It's not that," Wil said. "Actually, I think they want us to attack them."

"What?" Gunn and Angel said together.

"Here me out," Wil said, leaning forward on the table. "Think about it. Considering all the resources at their disposal, why haven't they killed the lot of us? Yeah, we're good, but we aren't perfect—how many times have we been surrounded by their flunkies and *not* died? Think back on all the times we've had run-ins with them. Each time somebody gets hurt but survives. What do Wolfram & Hart get out of it? Well, besides the sadistic pleasure of torturing the good guys? They get information. They knew I had a soul, they knew I had a chip. Yeah, we've solved those problems, but they can always find other weaknesses. They know now that we'll split up to protect the Hellmouth—something they're not even interested in. They also know just how far we'll go to protect our seers and brethren, even if it would be better for us to leave them behind." Wil paused for a moment. "But they never actually kill one of us. I think they're trying to provoke us."

"To do what?" Gunn asked shortly.

"Attack them. See, I've been thinking more and more about what they do. They're all about antagonism—making us want to hurt them—especially the humans that work there. What if they can't really hurt us until we hurt them?"

"What about Lindsey?" Angel reminded him. "I certainly hurt him. And I hurt all those lawyers by letting Darla and Dru have at them."

"True," Wil said, "but those attacks don’t fit into what they want. This is a little more recent than that."

"What if they're trying to recruit us?" Gunn said. "Or something like that What if one of us has some big role to play in a huge cosmic battle of good and evil?"

Wil, Gunn and Angel looked at each other. "Nah," They said as one.

"But seriously, I think that they're trying to do something," Wil said.

"Distract us?" Angel suggested. "I mean, as long as we're dealing with their antics, we're not focused on other things." Lorne's admonition to not forget the community floated into his mind. "We get isolated from the city when we're immersed in whatever scheme the lawyers have going."

"So you think that something else might be going down and we're just not around to hear about it—because we're off playing with Lilah and Gavin?" Gunn summarized. "It works, and is worth a shot."

"It would only take a few days of tapping into sources to see if anything's going on," Wil said.

"We'll start tomorrow. For now, though, we need to check on the others. If Cordelia woke up, maybe the others will have as well," Angel said, leading the other two men upstairs.