Title: Unforeseen (4/?)
Author: Fia Reynne
Fandom: Angel
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: pre-Angel/Wes (pre-Buffy/Xander)
Summary: (AU) Willow helps Wesley and Giles research possible solutions, Xander talks Buffy out of a snit and Angel searches for answers.
Disclaimer: Joss thunk them all up, I just play with them when I'm bored.


Angel picked up after one and a half rings. Or buzzes, since he hadn't figured out how to turn the ringer on. "Wes? How are you? Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm... I've been better. I could use a tall scotch about now, but other than that..."

"I want to see you, Wes." Angel closed his eyes. He hated the edge of neediness his voice had teken on, and he was well aware that he was barely inches from begging.

"I'll come home -"

"When you're ready. I know." Angel sighed, gripping the cell phone as tightly as he dared - he didn't want to break it. "When will that be, do you think?"

"A couple of days, perhaps. I'm following up on a lead as we speak. Possibly not the ideal solution to my problem, but I'm beginning to think there are few things less savoury than dying, especially in the painful, messy way described - and depicted, though I can't imagine why illustrations were necessary, really - in some of these texts. Angel?"

"Yeah, Wes?" Angel furrowed his brow. Wesley's voice had gone quiet, and he'd had to strain to hear him say his name.

"I'm afraid to die."

It was a fist to the gut, and Angel cursed the fates for taking out their issues with him on the people he loved. "It's okay," he whispered. "I won't let you."

Wesley cursed at the tone that told him the call had been dropped. Either Angel was moving out of his coverage area, or the battery had given out. He took a moment to collect himself before descending the stairs to Giles' living room. Angry voices floated up to him, and he cringed.

"It wasn't his problem that Angel was dying, remember? So, it's not our problem that he is."

"Buff, we get the not liking, but obviously Angel's over the whole poison thing, so maybe you should be, too." Xander's voice was calm and reasonable.

"What, just because they work together? Angel likes to collect strays - also not my problem."

"No, because -" Wesley could almost hear the look Giles was likely giving Xander, and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever deity was responsible for that particular intervention. He wasn't in the mood to be Slayed by a moody, spoiled brat, which is exactly what Buffy was being at the moment. He didn't doubt she could be a poised, intelligent young woman, but she certainly wasn't proving it by him just now. "Because they're friends. They're a team, like the Scoobies only, you know, with less people and a higher undead-to-human ratio. Angel's probably worried sick, Buff."

"Giles, answer my question," Willow insisted. "Why is Wesley looking at demon transformation spells? This is serious business."

"Willow, it's just a possible venue we're exploring. Wesley and I have collectively more experience doing magics than you have experience... breathing."

Wesley came down the stairs, and the Scoobies fell silent. He picked up a book, opened it to a marked spot, and held it out to Buffy, who gave him a questioning look, but took it. While she examined the illustration, making a face of disgust, he found another. And another, and another. Finally, she handed the stack of books back to him. "Okay, ew. What do a bunch of people with not a heck of a lot left on their shoulders have to do with you?"

Giles shot her the closest thing possible to a glare he could manage. It was still, after all, Buffy. "Those people are all humans who were afflicted with the Sight, as Wesley is. Seers for the Powers that Be, who received visions that weren't meant for the human brain to handle. The longest any of them lived after receiving the Sight was two years, but the average is somewhere between eight months and a year. Wesley has had them nearly six months already."

"So his head's gonna go kablooey." Buffy blinked. "Should we put down plastic?"

~*~

The graveyard was quiet; not the eerie quiet Buffy was used to, when a fledgling vamp was about to break through the sod, but the uncomfortable quiet where she knew Xander was waiting for a good time to say something he knew she didn't want to hear. "Go on," she said impatiently. "Speak your peace."

Xander stared at her for a minute before complying. "Angel doesn't need you to protect him," he said finally. "Least of all from Wesley."

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Protect him? What are you talking about?"

"They're friends, Buffy. Good friends. You're not helping Angel by hindering Giles and Wesley's search for answers. You're hurting him." Xander kicked over a potted plant that had long since shriveled and died, and wondered why people left potted plants in cemeteries anyway - did they think their dear departed would be able to take care of them from beyond the grave somehow?

Buffy scoffed. "And since when are you the expert on Angel?"

"I'm not," Xander admitted, shrugging. "But if it was you dying, and Wes was standing in the way, I'd kill him. Of course, I never had the big love - or any love, just for the record - with Wes, like you had with Angel, but I still think the comparison works."

"Angel wouldn't kill me," Buffy pointed out. "He loves me."

"He loved you," Xander corrected her. "If you can move on, so can he. He's dead, not... well, dead."

~*~

He hated doing this. Giles had never really forgiven Angel for Angelus killing Jenny, and truth be told, Angel hadn't forgiven himself for that, either. But if anyone knew a way he could save Wesley, it was Giles, and if he didn't know a way, he'd find one. He had to.

Giles' place was all lit up, and it sounded like the Scoobies were there, which meant Buffy was there. As much as Angel didn't want to face Buffy right now, Wes needed him... and he needed Wes. Hopefully, by the time he got back to L.A., Wes wouldn't be far behind, and they could work whatever mojo was necessary to make him better.

Angel knocked on the door hesitantly. When Giles answered, he launched into the speech he'd been rehearsing for the last forty miles. "Giles, I know that you don't owe me anything, but I have a favor to ask you. It's a big one, but I have nowhere else to -"

"Oh, for the love of god, Angel, just come in and pick a book," Giles sighed. "Buffy and Xander are patrolling - don't ask, but there were threats made involving pizza being... inserted into people, and I thought it best to send him along to talk her down."

"Oh, what about this one?" Willow was asking Wesley, showing him a page in an ancient tome. "It would be kinda like exorcising the Powers from your head. No more visions, which means no more head-go-kablooey, right?"

"Wes," Angel said softly. "What are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same thing," Wes replied. "How did you find me?"

Angel smiled. "I didn't. I was hoping Giles could help me figure out how to save you. Great minds, I guess?" He paused, studying Wesley's face. "Well, you with the great mind and me with the desperate grabbing at straws thing."

"Straw-grabbing is a specialty of ours," Willow smiled. "If there's a straw that'll save Wesley's brain from imploding - or exploding, the illustrations were pretty graphic but I think they could go either way - we'll snatch it up, with gusto."

"I'm certain she's speaking English," Wesley told Angel. "I haven't managed to decipher the dialect quite yet. It's quite fascinating, really." He turned his attention back to the spell Willow had been showing him, and furrowed his brow. "That might work. However, it requires a rather large, uncut diamond and I'm afraid we haven't the funds or the connections to find one of those. And the Sight would just manifest itself in the nearest available host, which could prove disastrous."

"Better than turning yourself into a demon," Giles muttered, and Angel looked up sharply. "I spent some time as a Fyarl demon recently, and I can't say that it was a pleasant experience. Buffy very nearly Slayed me."

"No," Angel said. "That's it. That's the answer. We'll turn him into a demon. I'll turn him into a demon."