Home / Fan Fiction / Angel / Epiphany / Family

Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe of the rights of Joss Whedon, the WB, Mutant Enemy or any other copyright holders of Angel.

Family
by The Brat Queen

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

Rated: PG13

Summary: A day in the life of the Angel Investigations team leads to some unexpected turns.

Dedicated to: Stephanie, who spent hours with me brainstorming one hell of a trump card, which means that now 3 of my wives have had a hand in this series. I also want to send out hugs and thanks to everybody who wrote back after "Always?" saying that they couldn't wait to see how the story arc turns out. Well gang, here's the second installment of it to help answer that question. More's coming, promise.

"The victim appears to be in her early twenties and is of Korean descent," Wesley dictated into his handheld recorder. He knelt down by the body and shone his flashlight over it. "The apartment showed no sign of forcible entry -"

"Not until we broke in," Angel muttered.

Wesley acknowledged this. His eyes scanned the young woman's face. He found himself drawn to the fact that her lips were parted, as though she'd been ready to take a sip of water or say a word of greeting. "However there appear to be indications of what might have been an extensive struggle."

"No signs of any roommates," Angel said as he glanced into the bedroom. "Place reeks of drugs and alcohol."

Wesley clipped his recorder to his belt and studied the evidence in front of him. "Even I can determine that. What else can you pick up?"

Angel came over to stand on the other side of the body. "Blood. Mostly menstrual. But…"

Wesley looked up at him. "Yes?"

Angel bent down, frowning thoughtfully. He reached out and brushed the woman's hair away from her face. "Huh."

"What?" Wesley leaned forward.

Angel pointed at a trail of marks along the woman's neck. "Those aren't tattoos. No wonder those girls were so skittish about calling the cops."

"Most prostitutes are, I'd imagine," Wesley said. "Lucky for us." At Angel's look, he clarified. "It pays the bills."

Angel nodded. "You recognize these?"

Wesley slipped on a pair of latex gloves, then lifted the locks of hair that were on his side of the body. He studied the mottled green pattern. "Varsish, I believe. An herbivorous species of demon most commonly found in dry climates."

"She smells like a half-breed," Angel said. He rested his weight back on his heels. His brown eyes trailed down the dead girl's form.

"What else can you tell me?" Wesley asked.

"This wasn't a pleasure killing," Angel indicated the pattern of slash marks along the woman's chest. "Those are from an attack. Most likely from behind." Angel mimed how such cuts could be made. "Bruises on her hands were made by somebody holding her down but that could've been a job as much as anything."

"I hate to ask," Wesley said, "But could you - ?"

"Yeah," Angel stood and positioned himself between the girl's legs. He lifted up her skirt, then reached for Wesley's flashlight. His face remained expressionless. "No trace of semen, but I think I've found the murder weapon."

Wesley felt his heart sink. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it over to Angel along with a plastic bag. "Charming fellow we're dealing with."

"Or woman," Angel said as he pulled the knife out of the victim's body, holding it carefully with the handkerchief so as to not smear any identifying marks. He dropped the knife and the cloth into the bag and ran his fingers along the edge to seal it shut. "Or thing."

Wesley made a note of the bag's contents before slipping it into his satchel. "Do you believe the attack to be demonic?"

Angel looked around the room. "I dunno. Somebody she knew - it could be. Or a client who forgot the safeword."

"How long has she been dead?" Wesley asked.

Angel considered. "Dunno how it works on Varsish. Somebody all human I'm thinking-"

"A day?"

Angel nodded. "Yeah. Day and a half maybe. Tell you something else - not all those cuts were done before she died."

"There's an odd sort of mercy," Wesley said. "Ritual killing, do you think?"

"Maybe," Angel said. "Or - just into dead bodies. Not much of a method to the marks. I don't see any signs of magic either."

"Nor do I," Wesley said. He took a moment to study the girl's face before turning back to Angel. "Let's gather what evidence remains so her friends can bury the poor girl. In the morning I'd like Gunn to get in touch with his sources to see if there've been any other murders of this kind which have gone unreported. Cordelia can research any records online and I'll check my contacts at the coroner's office."

"What about me?" Angel asked.

Wesley looked up at him, feeling relieved that he was there. "I'd like you to beat up any demon in this area who fancies it a good idea to withhold information about the killing."

Angel gave him a half-smirk. "My kinda job."

"I don't think this is a serial killer."

Wesley continued reading through his notes as they drove along in Angel's car. "Oh?"

"No," Angel paused at a stop sign. "Dunno why. Call it instinct."

"Your instincts in these matters are usually apt," Wesley said. He finished his third review of the evidence and sighed, bundling it all up and returning it to his bag.

"You okay?"

Wesley dropped his satchel into the backseat of the car. "I'm feeling nearly overcome by the urge to ask you something trite and maudlin."

Angel glanced at him curiously.

"I said nearly," Wesley pointed out.

Angel shrugged. "So? Humor me."

"I don't know," Wesley admitted. "Perhaps something like 'How do you cope with it?'"

"I'm gonna guess you don't mean driving a stick shift," Angel said. At Wesley's nod he continued. "Dunno. It - it doesn't get any easier on this end of a bicentennial. Before I had the soul I coped with it fine. But after? Bugs me about as much as you."

"We'll make it better," Wesley promised. "We'll find out who did this."

"Then rip their faces off."

Wesley looked at Angel.

Angel looked back. "Or something."

Wesley laughed.

"Guess you could say I've got my own way of coping," Angel said. He reached over to brush his hand along Wesley's thigh. "You know me."

Wesley gave Angel's hand a squeeze, then checked his watch. "We should hurry if we're to arrive at Cordelia's on time. Do you have everything?"

"Plenty of time," Angel said. "And I thought you did."

"No," Wesley said, "I asked you to take care of it. Remember?"

"I remember you asking me to buy the stuff," Angel suddenly looked worried. "Are you sure red wine's gonna be okay? I mean I know Cordy likes chocolate so the cake should be alright. But does red go okay with pasta?"

"It will be fine," Wesley said. "Of course that presupposes that we have it. Where did you leave it last?"

"On the counter," Angel replied. "Next to where you were standing."

"That's as may be," Wesley said, "but I was somewhat distracted by our case."

"And I wasn't?"

"I asked you to bring it."

"I brought the weapons."

"Yes, but we're unable to eat them."

"You're a funny guy, Wes. You know that? It's what I love about you. Your sense of humor."

A softness in Angel's gaze belied any attempt at even mock-teasing. "Do we have enough time to go back to the hotel?" Wesley asked, smiling at him.

"Just enough," Angel said as he turned the car around.

"Who's for coffee?" Cordy asked.

There was a small chorus of "me" from the three men. Wesley stood and helped Cordelia collect dinner plates.

"Allow me," he said.

Cordy shot a pointed look at Angel and Gunn who were sitting in the living room, engrossed in watching television. "Nice to know some guys remember how to be a gentleman."

"Yeah, and some guys have fifty bucks on this game," Gunn replied.

"Wasn't that a foul?" Angel asked.

"Damn right it was," Gunn said. "Yo, ref! Pay attention!"

"Boys," Cordelia said. She shook her head and picked up the wine glasses.

"I would agree with you, Cordy, except that I'm one of them." Wesley stacked the plates together and brought them into the kitchen.

"Yeah, but you don't count."

"Oh thank you."

Cordy rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean! You're not - you know…"

Wesley raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"If you date them you can complain about them," Cordelia concluded. "And last I heard you didn't like basketball anyway."

"Yes!" Gunn shouted. "Three point shot at the bell! In your face, Spike!"

"Who?" Angel demanded.

"Nah, nah, see, this is a Knicks game -"

Cordy filled the sink with water, drowning out the noise of the game. A sponge floated its way over to her. "Thanks, Dennis. So do I wanna ask how things went today?"

Wesley put the breadbasket on the counter and wiped crumbs off of the tablecloth. "Fairly gruesome. I'm going to need you online tomorrow. Angel suspects this may be an isolated incident, but I'd like to double check to be certain."

"I'll be sure to skip breakfast then," Cordy said. She rinsed plates off and put them in the dishwasher. She looked over her shoulder at Wesley. "Was it pretty bad?"

Wesley gave her a silent nod, then deposited the crumbs in the trashcan.

"Another lovely day in the City of Angels," she sighed. "Oh - I stopped by the office before. Got the mail. Yours is over there."

"Thank you," Wesley examined the small pile of envelopes and began separating them into different categories. He paused when he saw one of the addresses. "Were there any messages?"

"Just the clicks and buzzes of telemarketers," she replied. She opened up a cabinet and took out dessert plates. "No clients."

"Shame," Wesley murmured. He tore open the envelope and read the letter inside.

"'Scuse me, am I in your way?" the sound of Angel's voice in his ear made Wesley jump. "Whoa, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't," Wesley said. He folded the letter up and slipped it into his pocket. "Is something wrong?"

"Coffee will be ready in about ten minutes," Cordy said, switching on the coffee maker and disappearing into the other room.

"Nothing," Angel said. "We're up by - Gunn, how much was it?"

"Ten points, thank you very much," Gunn called back.

"Ten points," Angel said. "Everything okay in here?"

"Yes, I was just filling Cordy in on some of the details from our case," Wesley paused for just a moment, then allowed himself to lean into Angel's touch. From where they stood, it was impossible for Gunn or Cordelia to see.

Angel lay a hand against the small of Wesley's back. "You okay?"

"I'll be fine," he replied automatically.

"Sure?"

Several responses suggested themselves. "I love you," he said softly.

"Why don't you come home with me tonight, Wes?" Angel asked. He kissed Wesley's temple. "Think you need company."

"That's an utterly smashing idea," Wesley agreed. He turned to look at his lover. "Angel, I - "

"No!" Cordelia's scream tore through the apartment.

"Angel -" Wesley said, but didn't have to. The vampire had jumped at the sound of Cordy's voice. Wesley ran into the hallway to see Angel cradling her as best as he could while a vision overcame her.

"Shit," Gunn muttered.

Wesley did his best to assist Angel. He spoke softly, in a manner he hoped was soothing. "Cordy? What do you see?"

"Ow - ow - " she pressed a hand to her eyes "Oh God…"

"I've got you," Angel said. He moved a hand down to support her at the waist.

"What do you see?" Wesley prompted again.

"A - a girl," Cordy said through clenched teeth. "She - oh - he's - he's gonna kill her."

"Shit," Gunn said again.

"Where, Cordy?" Wesley asked.

Cordy took in a ragged breath, her body spasming. "B-by Harper Avenue? There's - ow - God - there's a dog park. And - and - " Cordy choked on another scream.

"I think I know the place," Angel said.

"West Hollywood, right?" Gunn asked.

"Think so," Angel said.

Cordy began to curl up into herself. "Oh God - Oh God - what he's going to do to her…."

Wesley and Angel locked eyes.

"Go. Now," Wesley ordered. He took Cordelia from Angel's arms. "Both of you. I'll watch over her."

"I've got weapons in the trunk," Angel told Gunn.

"I've got a fist that wants to meet someone's face," Gunn replied.

"Be careful!" Wesley told them. He drew Cordelia towards the bedroom as the other two men left. "Dennis, if you know where she keeps her pain medication this would be an ideal time to step forward."

"B-bathroom," Cordy whispered. Her fingers were clamped tightly around Wesley's arms as he heard the sound of a medicine cabinet opening. "Oh God… They're gonna be too late."