Chapter 5
Author: Ellen
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Spoilers: Somnambulist
Summary: The events of Somnambulist as they might have happened in the 'Power of Three' universe.
Author's Notes: This story is adapted from an episode of the WB television series Angel, written by Tim Minear. Angel, Doyle, Cordelia and all other characters from the Angel television series belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and/or 20th Century Fox and other entities who aren't us. We only wish that we owned them and could keep them safe and happy and loved.
"Not turning on a friend, yes. That's exactly the issue, isn't it?" said Wesley.
Doyle was standing beside Cordelia, with a protective arm around her, as she confronted Wesley. Wesley could see the expression of shock that suddenly crossed Cordelia's face. Then she shook her head slightly, reacting to something that Wesley could neither see nor hear.
//No! He's not right,// she sent fiercely to Angel. //If you stopped twisting yourself all in a knot to block us out, then you'd know that. Where are you anyway?//
//I'm on my way back.//
//Don't come in here, he's got a stake.//
//I can handle Wesley.//
Covering for Cordelia, who was deep in mental conversation with Angel, Doyle challenged Wesley. "An' what d'ye mean by that?"
"If someone wanted to get to Angel, perhaps even find a way to turn him back to Angelus, that someone would have to gain his trust. Appear to be a friend."
"Ye're makin' a point here, man. What is it?" Doyle's arm tightened around Cordelia and Wesley frowned. Abruptly it dawned on Doyle what Wesley was talking about.
As the thought occurred to him, out of sheer amazement he made no attempt to shield his thoughts and the realization reached Cordelia as well. She broke off her exchange of thoughts with Angel, returning her attention to the man who stood in front of her with a stake in his hand.
Doyle felt her sudden fury and was glad not to be on the receiving end. He let his arm drop as Cordelia advanced on Wesley, with one long, painted fingernail menacingly extended.
"Wesley, if you're even thinking what I think you are, you won't need Angelus to take you apart. I'll do it myself and with a smile on my face."
"Cordelia, I don't wish to hurt you but – "
"You don't wish to hurt me? Save it for somebody who believes you. Ever since we brought Doyle back, you've been impossible. In case we forgot to tell you or you forgot to listen, you self-righteous jerk, this is the man who died for us. Died! Until you're ready to do the same, get out of my face!"
Surprisingly, Wesley stood his ground, despite the fact that Cordelia was now jabbing her finger at his chest.
"That's rather the point, Cordelia."
Doyle spoke aloud, though softly. "He thinks I'm an imposter, 'Delia."
//Can't suppose I blame him, actually,// he added mentally, with some grudging respect. //I might be likely to suspect the same thing m'self.//
"Doyle is still Doyle. Angel is still Angel. Don't you think I'd know?" Cordelia threw out her arms theatrically, which, since she was standing very close to Wesley, looked more like an attack than a comment. Wesley shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably but he didn't back away.
"Sometimes people want to believe."
"I was there when Angel went grrrr, remember? Oh, that's right, you don't, because you weren't." Sarcasm oozed from her voice. "You were on the other side of the ocean at the time. And I will tell you, when he was evil, the one thing that he wasn't, was all broody. The more he worries and mopes around, the safer we are. And he's been Big Chief Dark Cloud for days, so I will personally guarantee you he isn't snacking on the original packaging for his O positive. And as far as Doyle is concerned," her voice softened as she glanced back at the man standing silently behind her, "there's never been anybody more real."
//Thank you.//
"Are you certain enough to risk your life?"
"What do you think I do every time I walk in here? Really! That's about the stupidest question I've ever heard. Yes, of course, I would trust either one of them with my life and I do. Every day. Next question?"
"He can ask the next one of me," said Angel, walking in.
Startled by his entrance, Doyle turned sharply and thought. //How did you do that?//
Almost at the same moment, Cordelia sent angrily, //quit sneaking! You should have let us know you were there.//
//We'll talk. Later.// Appearing to ignore both Doyle and Cordelia, Angel focused his attention on Wesley, who was holding up a cross in his general direction.
"Come no closer!"
"I'm not going to hurt you."
"Why should I believe you?" Wesley swallowed visibly but raised the stake in his other hand. Doyle tensed, preparing to rush him, if necessary.
Angel sent quickly to Doyle and Cordelia, //don't worry. Just a little demonstration.// He seized Wesley's arm and spun him around, ending with the ex-Watcher pinned against Angel, with Angel's arm across his throat. "Because this is how fast I could take you, if I wanted to."
After a moment, Doyle sent: //Angel, stand down. He's terrified enough.//
//A moment ago you were ready to break his arm.//
//A moment ago, he wasn't about to piss himself all over you.//
"We're listening," Cordelia said tensely. "Talk." //Let the poor jerk go already. You made your point.//
Angel pushed Wesley away and went to sit down on the edge of the desk. "I have no memory of doing any of those things," he began, gesturing toward the newspaper.
"Not exactly the confidence-inspirin' denial we were hopin' for," Doyle commented drily.
"But..." Angel looked at all three of them in turn, his eyes lingering longer on the faces of his lovers. //I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you before.// "I've been having dreams."
"D-dreams?" Wesley asked, still rubbing his throat.
"Killing dreams. And they're always the same."
//Angel, man,// Doyle sent in obvious distress. //Why couldn't you tell us about this before? Why now, with him?//
//So that I can finish without you two comforting me,// Angel sent back grimly. //I need to say this to someone who won't try to reassure me, someone who doesn't believe in me no matter what.//
Cordelia questioned, //Hello, is there something off here? You're sharing this with him, instead of just with us, because he doesn't trust you?//
//Exactly. Blind trust is just what I don't need right now.//
//Blind? Who's being blind?//
//Please, Cordelia. Let me do this my way.//
Angel went on, aloud: "In my dreams, I-I stalk people, toy with them, mark them while they are still alive. And then, before they can die from their fear, I feed on them."
Cordelia spoke softly. "Okay. So you've been having nightmares, it doesn't mean you..."
Angel shook his head. //You still don't understand.// "They're not nightmares. I've enjoyed them."
"Oh," Cordelia breathed.
//Now do you see why I couldn't tell you?//
Doyle put in, "It doesn't mean you're doin' anything. People have dreams. They don't always come true."
Wesley said slowly to Angel, "But people sometimes do act out their dreams. And you fear that these may be more than just dreams, that you are indeed acting them out, in some sort of hypnogogic state."
"Hypno – what?" Cordelia asked.
"Sleepwalking."
"No way. Uh-uh. That didn't happen." She shook her head in vigorous denial and Angel and Doyle both glanced at her.
//Delia darlin', you aren't actually plannin' to tell him quite yet where you an' I have been spendin' our nights, are ya?// Doyle reminded her.
Quickly, she tried to cover. "Vampires can't sleepwalk. He'd walk out the door and his P.J.s would burst into flames."
//Good save, Delia,// Doyle commended. //Although the P.J.s image is a bit of overkill.//
"Unless it were happening in the pre-dawn hours, which is when all these murders took place," Wesley pointed out.
Angel nodded. "There's only one way to be sure."
He sent an image to Doyle and to Wesley's surprise, Doyle nodded also. "We all need to know f'r sure."
Doyle went on, "I've seen the weapons collection downstairs. A good lot of sturdy chain down there. That'd give us our answer soon enough. We'll take turns guardin,' too."
Still suspicious, Wesley stipulated, "I'll see to the chains myself."
//Of course,// Doyle added to the others. //There's more than one of us he still needs to be sure about.//
Wesley insisted on closely supervising the process of chaining Angel to the bed, although he allowed Cordelia to help. Doyle stood back uncomfortably, well aware of the fact that Wesley still didn't trust him.
//He thinks I'll phony it up so you can go out for a chomp.//
//He could be right about that too,// Angel responded. //At least the phonying it up part. I know how much you don't like this.//
//Not a bit.//
Wesley instructed Cordelia: "You've got to make it tight."
"Like I need instructions from you." She sighed. "My glamorous LA life. I get to make the coffee and chain the boss to the bed. I've got to join a union."
"Cordelia, I think that's tight enough," Angel said.
Wesley regarded the bed soberly. "Well, all we can do now is wait. I'll take first watch."
Doyle said, "Why not take the livin' room couch then? There's a couple of chairs we can bring in here. Cordelia and I can stay. At least one of us can stay awake at all times."
"Uh, Doyle, you want me to sleep in a chair? I don't think so. Bad enough that I have to stick around to watch for some noctural commissions, without having to get all wrinkly in the process," Cordelia objected.
"Well, princess, it's a bit late for you to claim the bed at this point." Doyle pointed to the very-much-occupied bed. "I'd say it's either a chair, or the couch."
"A chair then but Wesley, if I develop a horrible slouch from sleeping in a chair all night, I will hold you and only you personally responsible."
Wesley smiled briefly. "I have been duly warned. You'll be leaving the door open then?"
"No way," Cordelia exclaimed. "It's bad enough that I'll have two of you watching me sleep in a chair. All three of you would be way too many. No thank you, the door will be closed."
"Are you sure that you feel safe, Cordelia?"
"Wesley, Angel's chained to the bed. Why wouldn't I? Oh. You're still on that, are you?"
//Easy, princess,// Doyle sent. //He thinks he's lookin' out for your safety.//
Cordelia bit back the comment she was about to make and said instead, "I meant what I said, Wes." She touched Doyle's shoulder lightly. "I trust Doyle. All the way."
"More than you trust me, I see. At least when it comes to watching you sleep."
From the bed, Angel said: "Earning Cordelia's trust can be a bit fatal, Wesley. You don't want to win it the way he did."
"To be sure," Wesley murmured, the doubt still plain in his voice. "I'm off to the couch, then."
There was obvious reluctance in his gesture as he closed the door behind him, leaving Cordelia in the room with Doyle and the chained Angel.
