Wesley Meets An Oracle

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=22 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="040000d2egerdp.gif"> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=145 BGCOLOR="#333399" TEXT="#080000" background="03fa2c00erkjzj.gif"> <div> All characters and situations from the WB television series "Angel" remain the property of 20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Productions, Kuzui/Sandollar et al.  This is a fan site and is not affiliated in any way with the WB, 20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon or David Greenwalt.  The fan fiction at this site is for entertainment purposes only.  No profit is being made from this site and no copyright infringement is intended.</div> <bR> </td> <td valign="top" height=458 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#336600" FACE="Times New Roman" ><I>Jenny Kane's Fan Fiction</I></FONT><FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#663399" FACE="Times New Roman" >    </FONT> |    <B> </B><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000BF" FACE="Times New Roman" ><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Clear Visions"><U><B>home</B></U></A></FONT></div> <div> <A HREF="id23.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="No One Else But You"><U>No One Else But You</U></A>    <A HREF="id24.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Angels Turn"><U>Angel's Turn</U></A>   <A HREF="id25.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Remembering"><U>Remembering</U></A>      <A HREF="id26.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Wesley Meets An Oracle"><U>Wesley Meets An Oracle</U></A>    <A HREF="id21.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Starting Over"><U>Starting Over</U></A></div> <div> <IMG SRC="04107040.gif" border=0 width="263" height="4" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> <B>Fan Fiction by Jenny Kane</B></div> <bR> <div> Wesley Meets An Oracle</div> <bR> <bR> <div> Title: 'Wesley meets an Oracle' (Sequel to 'Remembering', 'Angel's Turn') </div> <div> Sorry it took me so long to get this out. The holiday, work, and some RL </div> <div> issues have kept me hopping. But, here it is. Jenny</div> <bR> <div> Author: Jenny Kane</div> <div> Part: 1/1</div> <div> Rated: PG</div> <div> Spoilers: I guess parts of seasons 1 and 2</div> <div> Summary: Wesley meets Doyle</div> <div> Distribution: Please ask</div> <div> Feedback: Always welcome</div> <div> Disclaimer: I own none of it. If I did, things would be different. Joss, </div> <div> David, the WB and Mutant Enemy Productions own it all. Except my imagination, </div> <div> of course. </div> <bR> <div>       Wesley walked into the burned out office and let the door shut behind </div> <div> him. He looked around at the devastation with a shudder. "My God, it *is* a </div> <div> disaster, isn't it? I will never forget that day...even though I don't really </div> <div> remember much of it."</div> <div>       "That's...not surprising," Angel told Wesley as the ex-watcher moved to </div> <div> stand beside him. </div> <div>       "I honestly did not think I would ever come back here," Wesley stated, </div> <div> suppressing another shudder. "But when you told me that you were here, well, </div> <div> I had to come. I had to make sure you were both all right. I know that last </div> <div> night was...difficult for you. All those memories of Doyle that must </div> <div> certainly have been coming to light."</div> <div>        </div> <div>       He looked at Angel closely. Last night had been unnerving to say the </div> <div> least. He had never seen Angel become quite so unhinged. Wesley was certain </div> <div> that Angel would have killed the Fray demon he had been fighting had he and </div> <div> Gunn not pulled him away from the ugly fellow. But it was more than just </div> <div> Angel becoming unhinged, it was the *reason* he had lost control; it was a </div> <div> reason that was unsolvable in its sheer futility. Wesley would never forget </div> <div> the look in the vampire's eyes as he had beaten the enemy demon into </div> <div> unconscious submission; he would never forget the sound of his voice as he'd </div> <div> shouted the words, 'I want Doyle back,' over and over again. There had been </div> <div> rage and pain and desperation and guilt in every gaze he'd cast, in every </div> <div> syllable he'd uttered. Wesley had known that Angel had cared for Doyle, but, </div> <div> until last night, he had never known the depth of the vampire's feelings for </div> <div> his half-demon friend. He had known that the anniversary of Doyle's death </div> <div> would be difficult for the vampire with a soul, but he had assumed that </div> <div> enough healing had taken place to get Angel through it unscathed. He had </div> <div> assumed incorrectly. Months of misread silence had erupted in a torrent of </div> <div> suppressed feelings and emotions that had almost been beyond Angel's control. </div> <div> Wesley surmised that Angel was no closer to being over Doyle's death now than </div> <div> he had been a year ago; he also surmised that, until last night, even Angel </div> <div> himself had not realized how deep, how open, how raw, his feelings still were.</div> <div>       He'd been reluctant to let Angel leave without him, had felt somewhat </div> <div> better knowing that he had been on his way to Cordelia's; that he wouldn't be </div> <div> alone. 'Somewhat' was the operative word, however, considering that Cordelia </div> <div> was in much the same situation as Angel; she too mourned and missed Doyle. </div> <div> Wesley had to believe that he had underestimated the depth of Cordelia's </div> <div> feelings toward the half-demon as much as he had erroneously guessed Angel's. </div> <div> However, as worried as he had been about his friends, he had not felt </div> <div> comfortable insinuating himself into something as personal and private as </div> <div> their grief. So, albeit reluctantly, Wesley had gone home. </div> <div>       Exhausted, he'd let himself into his apartment, bypassed all the usual </div> <div> bedtime formalities, and had collapsed onto his bed. With his mind so full of </div> <div> Angel and Cordelia and a half-demon named Doyle, he had thought he wouldn't </div> <div> sleep, but he was out within minutes. He had slept soundly for two or three </div> <div> hours. Then the nightmare had begun...</div> <bR> <div>       He was walking up the pathway to Cordelia's apartment. No lights shown </div> <div> through the windows; the apartment was dark. As he approached the doorway, </div> <div> the door swung open without his touching it. He could feel Dennis hovering </div> <div> just inside the apartment; the ghost was consumed with fear. Wesley tried to </div> <div> reassure him, tried to speak to him, but no audible words emitted from his </div> <div> throat. He then realized that he was as insubstantial as Dennis was, unseen </div> <div> and unheard. He passed through the doorway of the apartment, made his way </div> <div> into the living room. A dim light shown there; it emanated from the </div> <div> television set. Cordelia and Angel sat on the couch facing the glowing </div> <div> screen. They watched a video that Wesley had heard about, but had never seen. </div> <div>       The video ended. The image on the screen changed to black and white </div> <div> snow.     Cordelia turned to Angel, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. "Do </div> <div> you still want to do it?" she asked him in soft, echoey voice that seemed to </div> <div> take forever to reach Wesley's ears.</div> <div>       Angel's agony filled eyes met her tear-filled ones. His face was a </div> <div> study in torment. "Yes," he replied in a voice just as echoey and distant. </div> <div> "Do you?"</div> <div>       Cordelia nodded. "Yes. Now, Angel. The time is now."</div> <div>       It was Angel's turn to nod. Cordelia shifted her position on the couch, </div> <div> took her hair in her hand and arranged it so that the right side of her neck </div> <div> was bare. She tilted her head to the left, which angled the right side of her </div> <div> neck up toward Angel. She took a deep breath, then closed her eyes. "Do it," </div> <div> she told the vampire in a firm voice. </div> <div>       Wesley watched in horror as Angel hesitated, then let his vampire </div> <div> countenance slide forth. He reached out a trembling hand and gently caressed </div> <div> Cordelia's vulnerable neck. "Cordelia..."</div> <div>       "Do it, Angel!" Cordelia ordered. "It's the only way! Do it! Do it now!"</div> <div>       'NO!!' Wesley's scream was audible only to himself as Angel let out an </div> <div> agonized cry, then closed his eyes as he sank his bared fangs into Cordelia's </div> <div> neck. Cordelia's eyes snapped open at the initial shock of the bite, then </div> <div> closed again as she relaxed into it, as she let Angel suck her lifeblood from </div> <div> her.</div> <div>       The dream Wesley was helpless, could only watch in stuperous horror as </div> <div> Angel drank from Cordelia, drank from her until there was no going back, </div> <div> drank from her until it was certain that she would die.</div> <div>       Angel pulled back short of draining her dry. Her blood dripped from his </div> <div> fangs as he gasped, "Cordelia..."</div> <div>       Too weak to speak, Cordelia nodded once. Her right hand reached </div> <div> underneath the couch cushions as her left hand came up to grip Angel's </div> <div> shoulder. Her eyes locked with the vampire's as she barely managed to </div> <div> whisper, "We're coming, Doyle. We're coming..."</div> <div>       Her eyes never left Angel's as she lifted the stake in her right hand. </div> <div> With her last ounce of strength, she thrust the pointed piece of wood through </div> <div> Angel's chest, into his heart. An instant later both she and the couch were </div> <div> covered in his ashes. Cordelia dropped the stake; it fell to the floor with a </div> <div> loud thump. Cordelia then collapsed back onto the couch, her eyes closed, a </div> <div> slight smile curving her lips. </div> <div>       "Doyle..."she murmured. And then she breathed her last...</div> <bR> <div>       "No!" Wesley had screamed it as he'd torn himself away from the </div> <div> nightmare; he had sat up in the bed, a mixture of tears and sweat had been </div> <div> running down his face. </div> <div>       All concern for Angel and Cordelia's privacy had flown out the window </div> <div> as he'd bolted from the bed to the phone. With trembling hands he'd dialed </div> <div> Angel's cell phone number. It had rung for an interminably long time, and </div> <div> then Angel finally had answered it.</div> <div>       "Yeah," he'd said in a terse, distracted tone of voice that had done </div> <div> nothing to quell Wesley's fears or to dispel the nightmare from his mind.</div> <div>       "Angel," he'd said, and then could think of no other words.</div> <div>       "Yeah," Angel had answered, still sounding as if he did not exist in </div> <div> the same reality as Wesley. Maybe he didn't.</div> <div>       "Angel," Wesley had said again, still trying to decide what to say. He </div> <div> still hadn't felt comfortable intruding on private ground.</div> <div>       "Wesley." Angel's impatience had increased. "What's going on?"</div> <div>       Wesley had then made up his mind. "Where are you?"</div> <div>       Silence for a long second. Then Angel had said, "At the old office."</div> <div>       Wesley had visibly flinched. He'd glanced at his clock. 4:00AM. "I'm </div> <div> coming."</div> <div>       "Wesley..." Angel's tone had softened somewhat; he understood Wesley's </div> <div> feelings regarding that particular establishment.</div> <div>       "Is Cordelia with you?" Wesley had asked.</div> <div>       "Of course."</div> <div>       "I'm coming," he'd said again.</div> <div>       Angel had tried once more. "Wesley, you don't..."</div> <div>       "I need to see you, Angel. You and Cordelia. I'll be there shortly." </div> <div> He'd hung up before Angel could protest further. </div> <div>       He'd had to psyche himself up the entire drive. But nothing he had told </div> <div> himself had allowed him to park any closer than across the street and several </div> <div> blocks down. He'd entered the dilapidated building with major trepidation, </div> <div> had felt immense relief to find Angel and Cordelia both alive and in one </div> <div> piece...</div> <div>  </div> <div>       He now moved away from Angel to stand near the doorway to what had been </div> <div> the vampire's private office. 'Doorway' was being kind; there was a huge </div> <div> gaping hole where the door had once been. "I suppose this *would* be where </div> <div> you would come to deal with some of those memories." He turned to Angel. </div> <div> "This is where you met Doyle, isn't it?"</div> <div>       "Downstairs, actually. That's where he introduced himself, yeah," Angel </div> <div> told him, a slight smile playing around his mouth.  If someone had told him </div> <div> that night that he would end up caring so much for the Irish half-demon, he </div> <div> would have told them they were crazy. </div> <div>       Wesley continued to wander around the room, stopped at the desk that </div> <div> had first been Doyle's, then his. He saw the photograph that Cordelia had </div> <div> found lying on the middle of the desk. He picked it up, looked at it with </div> <div> obvious surprise, turned to Cordelia. "This was on your desk, wasn't it?"</div> <div>       Cordelia nodded. She glanced at Angel. "Yes."</div> <div>       "It survived the explosion remarkably well, didn't it?" Wesley said, </div> <div> examining the framed photograph further. "Much better than I did, in fact." </div> <div> His gaze settled on Doyle's face; he found himself looking directly into the </div> <div> half-demon's blue eyes. Wesley shook his head slightly. There was something </div> <div> about those eyes...they were so intense, so penetrating, so...Wesley couldn't </div> <div> quite put his finger on it, but he had always felt, whenever he had looked at </div> <div> this picture, that there had been more to Doyle than had ever met the eye. </div> <div> And that was above and beyond the half-demon thing, far and away above it. </div> <div> Wesley had always surmised that had Doyle lived, there would have been </div> <div> something...more. He had no idea that he was about to find out how right he </div> <div> was.</div> <div>       He looked up to find Angel and Cordelia standing behind him, studying </div> <div> the year old photograph over his shoulders. </div> <div>       "What is it that you see, Wesley?" Angel asked softly. He was trying to </div> <div> find a way to ease into telling Wesley of Doyle's startling return. </div> <div>       Wesley had never confided to either of them his thoughts about Doyle. </div> <div> For one thing, Cordelia and Angel had rarely spoken of him, and Wesley had </div> <div> never been certain where their feelings lay; he hadn't wanted to open up old </div> <div> wounds. Secondly, Doyle had, as far as Wesley had always been concerned, left </div> <div> a huge void that even now Wesley did not think he had even *begun* to fill. </div> <div> The fact that his death had been both heroic and self-sacrificing had only </div> <div> added to his mystique, and had made the gap between them seem that much wider.</div> <div>       "What do I see?" Wesley searched for words that would be true without </div> <div> revealing too much. "A young life cut short. Memories that make one wonder </div> <div> what might have been." He smiled sadly. "What might have been."</div> <div>       Cordelia nudged Angel into speech. Doyle had said he'd be back in a few </div> <div> minutes. "Wesley..."</div> <div>       Wesley looked up from the picture. He was puzzled by the anxiety in </div> <div> Angel's voice. "Yes?"</div> <div>       Angel hesitated. This was harder than he had thought it would be. "You </div> <div> said that this is where we would come to deal with our memories of Doyle. </div> <div> Actually, for me, it's *not*. I would have gone to where the *Quintessa* was </div> <div> docked. That was the last place I saw him, the last place I spoke to him, </div> <div> and, yes, the place where we watched him die...where I *let* him die. That's </div> <div> where I would have gone."</div> <div>       "Would you really?" Cordelia asked in a mildly disgusted tone. "Good </div> <div> God, Angel, you really are the most self-flagellating being I have ever met." </div> <div> Wesley had to agree with that statement. Images from his nightmare suddenly </div> <div> floated in front of his eyes.</div> <div>       Angel threw her a look, then turned back to Wesley. "The reason we came </div> <div> here, Wesley, was not so much to deal with *our* memories of Doyle, but to </div> <div> help *Doyle* deal with *his* memories. "</div> <div>       Angel's words startled Wesley out of his thoughts. "Excuse me?" He </div> <div> found he could not keep the tremor from his voice. Perhaps things were even </div> <div> *worse* than in his nightmare. "What did you say?"</div> <div>       "Doyle's alive, Wesley," Angel said seriously, his eyes never leaving </div> <div> the Englishman's face.</div> <div>       Wesley had to take a deep breath. "Excuse me?" he asked again, his look </div> <div> becoming incredulous. </div> <div>       "Doyle's alive," Angel repeated. "He was sent back last night."</div> <div>       "Sent back," Wesley echoed. He then looked directly at Angel. "Angel. </div> <div> You know that's impossible."</div> <div>       "It's true, Wesley," Cordelia told him and Wesley's heart sank. He </div> <div> stared at his two friends, scenes from his nightmare rippling through his </div> <div> memory. If they, for some reason, *did* believe that Doyle was alive, what </div> <div> horrible events might occur once they discovered the truth?</div> <div>       "Wesley, stop looking at Angel and me like were having some sort of </div> <div> shared delusional psychosis here," Cordelia went on. "We're..." She stopped </div> <div> as it occurred to her that, as far as they knew, no one besides she and Angel </div> <div> had actually *seen* Doyle.   She leaned closer to Angel as she whispered, </div> <div> "We're not, are we, Angel?"</div> <div>       Angel shook his head. "No." He turned back to Wesley. "How can *you*, </div> <div> of all people, Wesley, say that it's impossible?  You've been a watcher to a </div> <div> vampire slayer; you've served on the watcher's counsel. You lived in </div> <div> *Sunnydale*, the existing hellmouth! You've been with Cordelia and me for a </div> <div> year! You've watched her have the visions from the *Powers That Be*; you know </div> <div> in your heart that *they* are the ones who sent me back from hell to be their </div> <div> warrior! Why would it be so different with Doyle?"</div> <div>       "Because the Oracles *told* you that it was," Wesley replied quietly. </div> <div> "They told you that his death could not be reversed. That he had reached </div> <div> atonement."</div> <div>       "Okay. Yeah, you're right, they did," Angel acquiesced. "But what they </div> <div> didn't tell me, Wesley, what they *never* told me, was that Doyle was </div> <div> unhappy. From the beginning, he was unhappy. From the beginning, he wanted to </div> <div> come back. But the *Powers* wouldn't listen to him, or, at least, they didn't </div> <div> listen until the Oracles were killed."</div> <div>       Angel paused and Wesley looked directly at him. "What exactly is it </div> <div> that you're saying, Angel?"</div> <div>       "Doyle went to the *Powers* after the Oracles were killed. He pointed </div> <div> out to them that a direct link was lost and that we--and they--needed that </div> <div> link."</div> <div>       "And you think they made *him* that link?"</div> <div>       "I know they did."</div> <div>       "Why, Angel? Because *Doyle* told you?" The nightmare worry was gone; a </div> <div> worse scenario suddenly coalesced in Wesley's mind.</div> <div>       Cordelia didn't like Wesley's tone. "What are you getting at?"</div> <div>       Angel's look was at once both dark and dangerous. "Yeah, just exactly </div> <div> what is it *you're* saying, Wesley?"</div> <div>       To answer that question was to admit that there *was* a possibility </div> <div> that Doyle had returned. Wesley knew he had no choice. "Are you certain that </div> <div> he *is* Doyle, Angel?"</div> <div>       "What?" Angel and Cordelia exclaimed at the same time.</div> <div>       "You have many enemies, Angel," Wesley explained. "Wolfram and Hart </div> <div> comes to mind. What if they had found out about Doyle, found out that this </div> <div> was the anniversary of his death? They would know that you would be </div> <div> vulnerable to that; they could have sent someone to impersonate Doyle, to..." </div> <div> He stopped as Angel smiled, shook his head a little.</div> <div>       "No," the vampire told the ex-watcher. "It's Doyle. I know his scent, </div> <div> but more than that, I know *him*. It's Doyle, Wesley." </div> <div>       Cordelia nodded. "It is, Wesley."</div> <div>       Wesley was running out of options. "All right. Let's say that it </div> <div> is...Doyle. The Oracles were killed months ago. Why did it take so long </div> <div> to...send him back?"</div> <div>       "Well," Angel looked at Cordelia. "That was up to us. The *Powers* </div> <div> demanded proof that we needed him, that we wanted him back. By midnight last </div> <div> night, one or both of us had to say--out loud--that we *did* want him back."</div> <div>       Wesley's memory slid back to the night before. "And you certainly did </div> <div> that."</div> <div>       "We both did, Wesley," Angel told him gently. "You heard *me*, and </div> <div> Cordelia..."</div> <div>       "I said it too, about the same time Angel did," Cordelia agreed. </div> <div> "Seconds later, he ...Doyle...was just...there. In my apartment."</div> <div>       Silence as Wesley stood there studying his friends, and, for the first </div> <div> time, he really *looked* at them. He could see the suppressed contentment on </div> <div> their faces, the controlled joy in their eyes. He then knew it was true. He </div> <div> also knew that although he was happy for his friends, he was terrified too.</div> <div>       "My God," he breathed. "It's true. Doyle is alive. The Powers *did* </div> <div> send him back as their...Oracle. That's..."</div> <div>       "Kinda hard to swallow, yeah?" An Irish accented voice suddenly </div> <div> interrupted Wesley. The ex-watcher swung to face the makeshift door that he </div> <div> himself had entered through just moments ago. Doyle stood just inside the </div> <div> door, looking at Wesley with those intense blue eyes.</div> <div>       "Oh my God." Wesley's knees buckled beneath him as he almost literally </div> <div> felt the floor tremble under his feet, as he felt that gap between he and </div> <div> Doyle widen to nearly insurmountable proportions, as that gap became as real </div> <div> as the sudden ringing in his ears. He leaned heavily on the depilated desk </div> <div> behind him.</div> <div>       Doyle felt that Wesley's reaction was a little over done. He turned to </div> <div> Angel and Cordelia, found them to be staring as well. "What?" he asked </div> <div> confusedly. </div> <div>       Cordelia was unable to utter a sound and it took a minute for Angel to </div> <div> be able to speak. When he did, his voice was tinged with awe, </div> <div> "You're...glowing, Doyle.'</div> <div>       "What!?" Doyle exclaimed, held out his arm, looked down at it. It was </div> <div> luminous... a soft, silvery glow enveloped the extremity, as well as the rest </div> <div> of his body. "Didn't know I could do *that*," he told his amazed friends. </div> <div> "Sure hope it doesn't last." He then turned to Wesley, looked at him </div> <div> questioningly. "You were saying...that's...what?"</div> <div>       Wesley could not take his eyes off the almost fluorescent half-demon </div> <div> Oracle to the *Powers That Be*. "I...I was going to say that that's a lot of </div> <div> responsibility."</div> <div>       "Yeah." Doyle stepped further into the office, stopped a few feet away </div> <div> from the ex-watcher. "It is. And that's the thing, Wesley, it's a *huge* </div> <div> responsibility that I don't know much about. The *Powers* wanted me for the </div> <div> job, but they didn't want me to do it *this* way; they had something a little </div> <div> more secluded, a little more sublime in mind. But I wanted to come back </div> <div> *here*, with all of you. We struck a deal, and when Angel and Cordelia said </div> <div> the 'magic words', well, they had no choice but to send me here on my terms. </div> <div> Didn't mean they had to make it easy for me though, so I have no </div> <div> instructions, no handbook as it were. Just me. So, I was kinda hoping that, </div> <div> uh, you could maybe help me out?"</div> <div>       Doyle's glow was fading, but it did nothing to lessen Wesley's growing </div> <div> feelings of anxiety and inadequacy. His eyes were still riveted on Doyle as </div> <div> he slowly eased his body up off of the broken down desk. He swallowed hard </div> <div> before he said in a shaky voice, "I have to confess, that I am no great </div> <div> expert in the oracular arts." He suddenly felt an overwhelming need to get </div> <div> some air. "If you will excuse me." He then practically sprinted through the </div> <div> same blown out window that Doyle had used before.</div> <div>       Angel started after him. "Wesley..!"</div> <div>       "Angel, wait!" Doyle ordered in an authoritative tone that he never </div> <div> would have used before his death. It brought Angel up short. Doyle smiled </div> <div> apologetically, walked up to the vampire, put a still somewhat luminous hand </div> <div> on the his friend's shoulder. "Let me try to talk to him, Angel. I *am* the </div> <div> problem after all. Besides," he nodded toward the outside world, "the sun's </div> <div> about to come up, man."</div> <div>       Angel's eyes followed the direction of Doyle's nod; they noted the </div> <div> beginning of the dawn. "Yeah, well...I guess you'd better go talk to him </div> <div> then."</div> <div>       Doyle gave a slight, worried grin as he followed Wesley out into the </div> <div> early morning air. The Englishman hadn't gone far; Doyle found him sitting on </div> <div> the sidewalk, his legs stretched out off of the curb into the street, his </div> <div> eyes looking heavenward as if searching for answers. He looked up at Doyle's </div> <div> approach, started to his feet, stopped as Doyle raised his hands in weary </div> <div> supplication. "Don't go, Wesley, please. I know this is hard for you, but you </div> <div> gotta admit, man, it's hard for me too." He watched as Wesley slowly sat back </div> <div> down, then went and joined him on the curb.</div> <div>       The two of them sat side by side for a few minutes, watching as the sky </div> <div> grew lighter and lighter, as the sun rose just above the horizon. Doyle took </div> <div> a deep breath, then said, "I meant what I said in there, Wesley. I don't </div> <div> *begin* to have a handle on this Oracle thing. I don't know exactly what I </div> <div> *can* do and what I can't. And I don't know how to control what *is* </div> <div> happening." He paused, waited for a question that never came. However, he </div> <div> could feel Wesley's curiosity getting the better of him, knew the </div> <div> ex-watcher/rogue demon hunter wanted him to continue. "One of the things </div> <div> that's happening that has to be 'oracular' in nature is this ability I have </div> <div> to read people; I can sense what they're feeling, thinking, doing." He turned </div> <div> to his companion, understanding clear in his eyes. "I'm not your competition, </div> <div> Wesley. I'm not here trying to 'upstage' you; I'm not here trying to take </div> <div> your place. I don't know if you realize how invaluable you are to Angel. I </div> <div> don't know if you understand that he wouldn't still be here if not for you. </div> <div> I...don't want to change things, Wesley; I want to make them better. I want </div> <div> to help." He paused again and, again, there was no verbal response from </div> <div> Wesley.  "I know that nothing's gonna happen over night, man, but I am hopin' </div> <div> that, given some time, you'll discover that I actually am a...pretty good guy </div> <div> who's...maybe in just a little over his head here. A guy who's *a little* bit </div> <div> scared. A guy who could really use your help...and who just might be able to </div> <div> help you too...if you'll let him."</div> <div>       The sun was up; its rosy glow had tamed down Doyle's fading luminance. </div> <div> All except his eyes. Wesley noticed that they were a silver/blue when he, at </div> <div> last, looked up into them. They looked straight back at him, their gaze as </div> <div> intense, as penetrating as ever.    They were eyes that saw so much. Too much </div> <div> maybe. For, behind the intensity, the knowledge, there was doubt, there was </div> <div> pain, there was fear, there was...Wesley winced inwardly...the glint of </div> <div> unshed tears. Although he was aware that Doyle sensed how he felt, he was </div> <div> compelled to say...something.</div> <div>       "Well," he said in a soft voice that promised nothing. "I suppose we'll </div> <div> just have to see won't we, Doyle? We'll just have to see."</div> <bR> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id21.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Starting Over"><U>Starting Over</U></A></div> <bR> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>