Silence

By Tev Ye

(sequel to "Failure", also found on this archive)

*****

"Wesley . . ." The young man looked up at the sound of his employer's voice.

"Yes?"

"Can I . . . um . . . can I talk to you . . . for a minute?"

Puzzled Wesley followed Angel into his office. Something was wrong. He could tell by the way Angel wouldn't look directly at him, and how vampire's hands seemed to almost have a mind of their own. This sort of nervousness was very atypical of his employer. Angel may have been many things, but inordinately shy he was not.

The vampire made a vague gesture to the seat across from his desk, and Wesley obeyed, leaning forward in the chair to gaze worriedly over at Angel.

For a long time the elder man seemed very preoccupied with organizing his desk papers. Finally he asked without looking up, "So how has your week been?"

"Much the same as yours. Two major group vampire attacks, and one set howler demons. Other than that I've been mainly focusing on becoming reacquainted with the backs of my eyelids . . ."

"Well that . . . that's good." He had now moved on to making sure that all his pens were organized by color. "Do you have all the supplies you need . . . for um . . . well whatever you need?"

Wesley winced at the awkward needless question. Angel knew that if the Watcher needed something all he did was get it himself using the company card. He'd seen Angel dance around the subject of a pay raise for hours with Cordelia. The vampire was very adept at avoiding subjects, which he wasn't totally confident as to how he wanted to handle them.

Deciding that if the conversation was ever going to move forward before sunset, it was going to be under his power and not Angel's, he took a deep breath and spurted out, "Angel was there something specific that you wanted to ask me?"

Shoving a red pen in the blue pen pile, Angel responded, "Well today's Wednesday . . ." He stopped there, trailing off awkwardly to review the wood grains in his desk.

"Aaaah . . ." Wesley sank back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. Everything was suddenly becoming very clear, and he didn't like the picture one bit. It wasn't that he had anything particular to hide from his conversation with Faith, but he had no desire to share it either. Everything dealing with the rogue Slayer he worked hard to keep in an almost separate compartment of his mind, and bringing out one aspect of his infinitely complicated relationship with the girl brought out all the others no matter how much he tried to hold them back.

"I just need to know anything about her condition that might be relevant. Has she made any progress? Has she regressed?"

"Her condition? Progression? Regression? You talk about Faith as if she has a disease." He was being overly defensive, but something about the simplification disturbed him. Of course, he realized that from Angel's perspective it might seem to be that simple at times. Didn't he have a miraculous cure, a sudden given conscience?

"They're just words Wesley. You know that I don't think that." In reaction to Wesley's accusatory tone, Angel had slipped back into the authoritative manner that both were more accustomed to from him.

Recognizing a battle he shouldn't wage the Watcher shifted gears. "Truthfully Angel, I don't see what kind of help I could possibly be. I have nothing with which to gage her behavior."

"Well, why don't you just tell me what you two talked about?"

Wesley opened his mouth and quickly closed it again. Swallowing hard, he tried to push down the strange clawing sensation deep in his chest and whispered, "It really wasn't much of a conversation . . ."

Angel leaned forward expectantly, and Wesley fought a sick feeling deep in his stomach. Why did this feel like a betrayal? < Who are you betraying? Faith? > It wasn't as if he owed her any sort of loyalty, he reasoned, and certainly all that he owed Angel overrode whatever superficial connection he had established with her during that one exchange.

But as he tried to come up with a way to sum up the conversation, all that came to him were emotions and images: Faith with her head tilted toward the sun looking deceptively innocent, the spark of life in her eyes before she had been led away, but overwhelming everything else was the sense of peace that had been with him ever since. "We . . . we talked about . . ." He broke off again, trying to ignore the trembling in his right hand that hadn't been there all week.

What could he say? We talked about all our failures? Whether we could have turned out better if we had never met? They were topics too personal, too intimate. < Oh God > Dropping his head into his hands he had to stifle a half sob half laugh. Just the thought that he had shared something that personal with Faith of all people made the entire world seem out of balance, but in the end that was exactly what he had done. How had he ever gotten himself in this predicament? Without thinking about it he had told Faith things that he wouldn't want shared with anyone.

< Choosing between Angel and Faith? This shouldn't be hard, old boy. > But in reality it was. He had given her his trust for the first time and had received hers in exchange, something he had so desperately wanted from either Slayer while in Sunnydale. Now that he had it, however small, he was loathe to give it up. Some part of him just kept clutching it too him with an almost religious fervor, as if somehow it offered him absolution for all the imagined wrongs he had done her.

"Wes?" Angel had come around the desk to place a firm hand on his shoulder. "I know it's hard . . ."

"I . . . I don't really want to talk about this." Getting up awkwardly, Wesley moved to the door.

"Look, I know that you did me more than enough favors by even going to visit her, and maybe you feel you owe her something as well . . . but you're not doing her any favors this way."

Stopping with his hand on the doorknob, Wesley fought to keep his voice under control. "I didn't do it for you, and I certainly didn't do it for her."

"Then why . . . ?"

Turning back around, Wesley slumped against the door. "You really don't know? I did it for me; to prove to myself that I could face her again, so that in end she didn't really beat me. Everything I owed you concerning Faith was paid in full when I came back that night." He shook his head in almost sad amusement, "No, I most certainly didn't do it for you."

"Okay, I understand that, and if you never want to visit her again that's absolutely reasonable, but . . ."

"Dear God will you listen to yourself?!?" Wesley exploded. Everything had shifted between Angel and him since Faith. It was an almost imperceptible change but there all the same, grating at the young Watcher until it had finally ripped open all his stored up resentment to come pouring out now. "How is she doing? What is she saying? Would you like to keep a heart rate monitor on her perhaps? You're obsessed. Believe me, I understand that this is your second chance to save her, but Angel . . . you can't." His employer's head snapped up at that. "In the end the only one who can save Faith is Faith, and no amount of attention you give her is going to change that."

"So you want me to just stop worrying about her?"

"I think maybe you should spread that worry a little more evenly." With that Wesley opened the door and moved out to his desk in the outer office, but Angel followed.

"Now just what is that supposed to mean?"

It was Wesley's turn to sort papers as an excuse not to make eye contact. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, I really want to know. I think we should lay this all out before it becomes a real problem."

"All right." Setting the files down very deliberately, Wesley met Angel's gaze almost daring the vampire to look away. "After you took Faith in, how long was it before Cordelia returned to the office?"

"She took a short vacation . . ."

"Because she didn't want to be around Faith, and the vacation lasted two weeks. Do you know where she was?" This time he didn't give Angel a chance to answer because they both knew that Angel hadn't thought to ask. "She went to a small motel 60 miles out of the city, and just stayed there because she was terrified."

Angel opened his mouth to say something, but Wesley cut him off, afraid that if he lost his momentum this would never get said. "How long was it until I started training with you again?"

"It took a long while for you arm to heal."

"It's still not healed completely Angel. There are days when I stop early because I can't always support a crossbow, and I may never be able to fight with a sword again."

"Is that was this is about?" Angel face had softened from anger into sympathy. "You could have told me. We could have managed without you for a few weeks."

"So I could go watch my bruises fade from purple to yellow? Thank you very much, but no. I neither expected nor wanted to be coddled, but I was under the impression that I might be entitled to a little consideration. She *tortured* me."

"It was your choice to help her and to visit her. I would never have made you."

"Damned right you wouldn't have. I would have resigned first, but that's not really the point. The point is that you had the nerve to ask because when it comes to Faith you have a one-track mind. Save her no matter what the cost, even if the cost is all of us."

"Now that's not fair. We're in the business of saving people, and sometimes maybe we don't think they're worth saving, but that's not exactly our choice to make."

"And how exactly do you save someone after you betray their trust?"

"Betray their trust . . . ?"

"Did it never occur to you that perhaps Faith might have talked to me about things which concerned us? Things you're not entitled to know? She's trusted me, and I believe that's what the entire point of these visits is, that she would trust again. Well a fat lot of good it will do if we turn around and yank it away again."

Wesley braced himself against the desk and let out a shuddering breath. He was suddenly very tired, as if somehow he had been running solely on anger for the past few weeks and now that he had let it all out there was nothing else left to support him. "I think . . . perhaps . . . now might be a good time for me to take a few days vacation, give all of us a little space." Without giving Angel a chance to talk him out of it, Wesley gathered up his notebooks and the few crucial volumes that he anticipated needing and left the office, turning back at the last moment to reassure Angel, "If I happen to discover anything new about those howlers I'll be sure to leave a message with Cordelia."

*****

Listening to the sound of ringing metal that signaled someone moving down the halls, Angel fidgeted in his chair. Yesterday's confrontation with Wesley had left him feeling awkward and confused. Unable to sit still, Angel leapt out of the chair and shrugged out of his leather jacket. At that moment the door to the visitor's room opened, and he looked up.

Faith stopped just past the doorway, and strange look of almost mixed relief and disappointment crossed her face. Wesley's reaction to his inquiries about Faith had left Angel uncertain about things he had taken for granted, but with that one look the Slayer had managed to totally unbalance him. Gripping the chair a little harder, as though to reassure himself of the reality of the world, he gestured across to the seat on the other side of the glass.

Titling her head slightly, Faith flicked her eyes up and down his body, giving Angel the disconcerting impression of being reevaluated. A tiny smirk played at the corners of her mouth, and she stood standing just long enough to make the vampire begin to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, wondering if she would refuse his invitation. Then in a manner that reminded Angel very much of her old self, she yanked the chair out, spun it around and straddled it.

"Ya gonna make me look up?" She asked belligerently, her tongue finishing the phrase with a sort of odd click. "Hurts my neck."

Sitting obediently, he looked back across to her and found Faith staring amusedly back at him. Unable to cross her arms because of the handcuffs, she extended them straight out, resting them on the edge of the table. Looking perfectly content to just spend the rest of the time sitting there in total silence, she leaned back a little and arched her back in a lazy stretch.

"So . . ." Angel finally found his voice, "How has your week been?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth he winced. This was not an illustrious start to this conversation.

Snorting slightly, the brunette displayed her chained wrists, "How do you think?"

"Well . . ." Mentally flailing for a topic, Angel grasped onto the first one he could find, "We're having sort of a slow week, just a few attacks, nothing major."

"So you found time to visit me? I'm touched."

Exasperated, Angel exhaled loudly. Despite her previous attitude, Faith had been subdued ever since entering prison. It had given him real hope for helping her. Now though she seemed to have taken three steps back, and fallen into her old attitudes. What the hell had Wesley said to her?

"I . . . I'm sorry if Wesley's visit bothered you. Did he say something . . . ?" Angel trailed off as Faith's entire manner shifted. At the question she had dropped her arms and hunched over as if examining her uniform were much more engrossing than the vampire sitting across from her. "Faith?"

"So he didn't tell you?" She whispered, still fascinated with a fold in her uniform. "What we talked about I mean . . ." Angel shook his head, and Faith burst into brief strung out laughter. Running her cuffed hands through the long unkempt strands of now dull brown hair, she leaned back to look up at the ceiling's water stains. "Damn, where'd Wes ever get the balls . . ." She snapped her head back up to look Angel in the eye, "Because . . . I mean ya asked right?"

Squirming uncomfortably under her inquisitive gaze, Angel broke eye contact, "Well . . ."

"Oooh, come on what did you tell him?" Her eyes were sparkling now in a way that they hadn't for quite some time. Angel hadn't noticed that it was missing, but now that the glint of life there transformed her entire face, the contrast was startling. She leaned in with obvious interest, "I can just imagine . . ." Dropping her voice, she began to do a passable imitation of Angel, "It's important that we monitor her condition. I can't help her if I don't know what's going on.' Did I get it all or was there more?"

"No," Angel sighed rubbing his hand against his forehead tiredly. "That was pretty much it." Why was it she and Wesley knew him so well, and he felt like he barely knew them at all? Faith seemed to be positively euphoric at discovering that Wesley had kept his mouth shut, which in his book went down as beyond unexpected. At the same time however, he saw an opening, something to get Faith really talking. "I'm worried about Wesley actually. He seems very tense these days."

It was like turning a switch in her personality. The brunette dropped her eyes, allowing her hair to fail in front of her face in an almost protective curtain. "Yeah, well, I put him through hell." She murmured softly.

Angel's eyes went wide at that. Never before had she owned up to her wrongs so matter-a-factly. It was progress beyond his wildest dreams.

"He's dealing though. He's a lot stronger than he looks." The words were said in an emphatic whisper as if more for herself than Angel. "Well, of course he's stronger than he looks. He looks like a mouse would take him out. Damn he's tough though." She raised her hands to look at them, as though she could still see the blood. "Not one scream . . ."

"How did he seem when he came to visit you?"

Obviously having just remembered Angel was still the room, Faith looked up. "Like he really really didn't want to be there. What the hell did you send him for anyway?"

"I didn't *send* him." The vampire snapped defensively, "He volunteered."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure he was just begging to pay me a social call. Because let me tell you . . . he looked enthused."

"That's not . . ." Angel dropped his hands to the table in defeat. "I just want to know if seeing you has affected him more than he's telling me . . ."

"Cause he's telling you squat." Faith gave him an odd almost wistful smile. "And you think I'm gonna let Wesley show me up for balls? Shit no." Her voice had gone harsh with an emotion far deeper than the competitive air she was trying to play it off as. "If Wesley's not talking . . . then I sure as hell ain't." Her eyes narrowed a little, in an expression of resentment. "What do you want to know for?"

He let out another unnecessary sigh, truthfully he wasn't even sure anymore. "I don't know . . . I was just worried about both of you."

Faith snorted, "Didn't seem too worried last week."

"That's not . . ." This entire visit was spiraling out of control, and he felt as though everything he had built up with Faith was sinking faster than the Titanic.

But Faith cut off his entreaty, with a rap of her knuckles against the edge of the glass she signaled the guard that she was done. Standing obediently, she waited for the guard to come as an escort.

"Is there anything you'd like me to tell Wesley?" Angel asked in one last desperate attempt to make a connection.

That stopped her. Cocking her head to the side, she closed her eyes in thought. "Tell him . . ." Another disconcertingly wistful look flickered across her face, "Tell him his Slayer's doing pretty damn good with the choices she's got."

Angel was about to ask what the message meant when the guard came up to Faith, and without a glance back the girl allowed herself to be led back to the cell block, leaving one very confused vampire in her wake.

~ End