Robin Wood

When Cordelia Chase said she'd seen Charles Gunn, her late comrade-in-arms, having lunch in downtown Los Angeles, I personally dismissed her claims. Not to her face, of course...but she was, I thought, obviously coping with the loss of her friend. Obviously she was going through a rather textbook case of denial.

When she claimed to have a vision of Gunn, however...it still sounded desperate, I thought, but it couldn't be dismissed. The woman has visions. The visions aren't wrong. And, as Angel can reportedly attest, resurrection is entirely too commonplace in this line of work.

Unless it's simply an evil twin. Which isn't any more logical, but it is slightly more feasible.

Angel and Chase, on the basis of her visions, infiltrated the offices of Wolfram and Hart, a law firm of somewhat ill repute. Upon "discussing" the matter with one Christian Ryan, they now believe Charles Gunn is indeed alive and well and a prisoner of said law firm.

And now they intend to find him in some guerrilla raid on a downtown Los Angeles law office.

Life in L.A. is always interesting.

Angel wanted a small team. "Small" wound up including most of the group, including Melaka. And as I feel more of an obligation to her than I do to Charles Gunn, where she goes, I go.

Besides, it's either that or stay behind with the new boy, which...no. Just...no.

Funny how I'm already thinking in terms of obligation to her, as if she's already my charge. Melaka and I had what amounted to a long conversation between us the other day. I suggested that she might need a Watcher...she didn't exactly deny it...and that was essentially that. There's some particulars to be worked out, I'm sure, with whatever return spell Wesley's been cooking up.

And then, of course, we all have to come back from Wolfram and Hart alive.

There was an awkward moment, though, when she asked if I was volunteering to go back with her because I had feelings for her. It threw me a little, and for a moment I was afraid I'd given her the wrong idea completely. I've come to care for her, but as a Watcher might care for his Slayer, not anything more...intimate than that.

Funny how teenagers think sometimes. Maybe some things don't change, even given hundreds of years. I wonder if Rupert Giles ever had to deal with something like that with Buffy Summers...

...ugh. The man's old enough to be her father. Of course he'd know better.

The hotel has been a busy place the past few days.

Willow Rosenberg and her partner came down from Sunnydale, presumably to confer with Wesley about Melaka.

I don't know if they're aware I'm here in Los Angeles, to say nothing of staying here at the hotel. Surely Harris or Spike said something when they returned to Sunnydale. The women certainly haven't come knocking on my door, not that I'd expect them to. To be honest, after what happened, I wouldn't know what to say to them. Perhaps it's best I stay out of their way while they try to help Melaka.

Especially given that the vampire that seems to have tagged along with them appears to be a little..."unbalanced" might be kind.

Though...staying out of their way might be a little easier said than done.

I've been training with Melaka quite often lately, in between patrols. In fact, it'd be a fair assessment to say I've been testing her, in a sense. Pushing her, even.

I almost feel like her Watcher.

And therein lies the dilemma that's been keeping me awake lately. Presumably the witches will be able to help Wesley facilitate a return to her own time. When that'll happen, who's to say. But it's obviously not impossible to navigate through time. Difficult, yes. Not impossible.

But once she's gone...then what?

She's spoken, albeit briefly, of what she expects to find when she returns home. Something having to do with her brother and some future version of the lawyers who bedevil Angel in the here and now...some dark alliance which originally resulted in her being sent here with Angel. She expects trouble when she returns home.

Trouble is, she's got no one to help her.

Buffy Summers had Rupert Giles, along with a whole support system in Sunnydale. Angel has banded together a formidable fighting force of his own here in Los Angeles. When Melaka goes home, it'll just be Melaka, alone, in a world that's really not prepared to deal with the forces of darkness.

Or...maybe not.

It's not like there's anything else keeping me here. I've got no family. No ties. All I have now is the fight, and truth be known, there's some days I wonder why exactly I'm fighting in the first place.

And it's not like Melaka won't need someone. Someone she can trust. A Watcher, even.

I don't even know if she'd go along with the idea.

But it won't hurt to ask.

I feel like I'm contributing again.

When I was teaching -- seems like ages ago, when I took my leave to go after Spike -- I always felt the proudest, the most accomplished, when I made a connection with one of my students. Some of them were tough nuts to crack, and not all of them were exactly receptive. But when that connection was made, when you saw the light in their eyes go off...that was what made it all worthwhile.

I miss being a teacher sometimes.

But while I haven't quite made a connection like that with Melaka yet...we're getting there, I think.

She's a quick study. Hell, she could teach me a thing or two about hand-to-hand. I get the feeling we're still feeling each other out, though. She hasn't taken to me like she has to Faith or Osbourne, or even Angel. Maybe she's picking up on the general sense of wariness from the others; I've suspected for a while now that they think I'm trying to replace Charles Gunn. Or maybe she's just naturally slow to warm up to people; I heard talk about how she and Angel didn't exactly hit it off when they first met.

Or maybe I just have bad breath or something.

But we're getting there. And I feel like I'm helping. Like I'm teaching again.

And it's a good feeling.

I've even gone out on patrol with Angel himself a few times. It's funny...I know about his soul, and I know about his history with Buffy Summers. I know, from talking with Wesley, that Angel can be trusted. Yet, when we're on patrol...it's as if I'm doubly alert. Like I can't help but think he'll tear my throat out if I turn my back on him. I know better...yet it's like an instinct.

Needless to say, we haven't exactly engaged in idle chit-chat when we've been on the clock together.

It probably all stems from what happened with my mother and Spike. Trusting a vampire with my life seems so...foreign. Even though I know this particular vampire to be a force for good.

Hopefully it'll pass soon. I don't want it being a problem when the chips are down. Or the next time the Chase woman has a vision, now that she's back from Sunnydale...

People seem to be on the road to recovery here at Angel Investigations. Or at least, nobody wants to kill each other anymore.

Whatever has people upset with Angel, at least he's trying to make amends for it. And so far, it sounds like everyone's accepting his olive branch. I heard Wesley invited him to dinner with his wife...not the kind of thing you do if you're holding a grudge. And apparently Cordelia Chase, who's been with Angel since he came to Los Angeles, will be returning shortly. So while the tension around here is still there, it feels like it's subsiding a little.

Which is almost as remarkable as trying to figure out what exactly a vampire would eat at a formal dinner.

Whatever happened with Charles Gunn, I think the people here are ready to lay it -- and him -- to rest. I heard Wesley talking about some kind of commemoration to be placed in Gunn's old neighborhood in his memory. I don't expect to be invited to any memorial they might have for him...which is fine. Gunn was part of their family, while I didn't know the man. I'd feel as if I were intruding.

Seeing them try to heal wounds like this, trying to come back together as a group, shows me now more than ever that this is as much a family as Buffy Summers' group in Sunnydale, if not moreso. I haven't been through the fires like these people have, so I still feel like something of an outsider. Maybe I always will, as long as I'm here. But I'm proud to be fighting the good fight alongside them.

Which brings me to Melaka.

If I'm still an outsider here, I can only imagine how she feels, torn away from her own time as she's been. She's not squirreling away in her room anymore, which is good. I know she's joined Faith and Osbourne on patrol on more than one occasion...but simply occupying yourself with fighting isn't always enough.

Perhaps I'll try to speak to her the next time I see her. We may have something in common, she and I.

In spite of their obvious effectiveness -- our effectiveness, now, I guess, seeing as how I've been more or less accepted here -- this group is still pretty fractured.

Melaka has been going on patrol the past few nights with Faith and Osbourne. Quite a formidable team, two Slayers and a werewolf.

I've been working with Wesley and, occasionally, his wife. Different approach -- strategic, as opposed to the sheer power of a double-Slayer front -- but so far, the results have been good.

I still haven't had an opportunity to speak with Angel, or at least, have a conversation of any substance. And it's obvious that whatever tensions he's stirring up won't be going away anytime soon. He's been gone for how many days? And still the eggshells?

When I was still a teacher, I'd occasionally assign group projects to my students -- research, presentations, that sort of thing. Every so often, one member of a team would make a critical error and pretty much consign the project to disaster. And while I never penalized the entire team or crippled a team's grade, instead choosing to grade each person's efforts as well as their performance, there'd inevitably be some discord among the group. Of course, they'd eventually realize that things weren't as bad as they thought, they'd move on, and all would be well again...but for a brief time, that single mistake would hang over everyone like a dark cloud.

Whatever happened with Angel and Charles Gunn is threatening to tear this team -- and Angel himself -- apart. Even a blind man could see that.

Someone needs to step forward and try to sort things out here. Because I'm sure Angel and his team have stirred up more enemies than I'd care to think about here in Los Angeles, and I'm sure they'd just be chomping at the bit to take advantage of any internal strife.

I need to talk to Wesley. Get some specifics before anything else.

And maybe to Osbourne, too...sometimes the guy comes off as the only level-headed one around here.

Working with Angel's team is quite a different experience from working with Buffy Summers'.

Granted, when I was in Sunnydale, I had...other motives. But whereas the Slayer's allies seemed to be more specialized -- the witch, the Watcher, the muscle, and so forth -- each member of Angel's team is perfectly capable of dealing with a rogue demon on their own, if necessary.

It's a subtle, yet interesting difference. Bred, I suppose, from dealing with different landscapes. Los Angeles obviously requires a different approach than the Hellmouth.

I've been patrolling with Wesley Windham-Pryce the past few nights. He and I seem to have bonded a little, over talks of my mother. His wife Fred looked to need a little rest, after whatever happened in Sunnydale; he and I apparently work well together; so it all worked out.

I think the fact that most everyone is avoiding Angel himself right now might have also had something to do with it. Right now, the only person who seems to want anything to do with Angel is the girl Melaka, the Slayer from the future.

At least it gets her out of her room.

Since Wesley and I have returned from patrol, I've heard that Faith has returned from...wherever she's been. I knew she'd been working with Angel's team; she'd been holding down the fort in Sunnydale while Buffy was gone, and then...well, I guess everyone deserves a vacation every now and then.

I met her briefly when I was in Sunnydale several months ago. I wonder how -- or even if -- she'll react when she finds out I'm here...

The tension here at the Hyperion is thick enough, it would snap someone's blade if they tried to cut it. And it all seems to center around Angel.

Funny how a vampire can do that.

No one's actually told me what exactly happened to put everyone on pins and needles. I know a member of their team was killed, a man named Charles Gunn. Aside from the fact that it had something to do with whatever happened in Sunnydale these past few months, I don't know anything more than that.

My first instinct was that Angel was somehow involved with his death. That would certainly explain the tension, especially if it stemmed from another episode with his demonic Angelus persona, which would also account for why he's not dust. But even if that was the case, the people here are acting almost indecisive. As if they're upset, but not sure who the right target to vent at is.

None of my business, though. If they want to open up a little to me, fine. But since I'm not exactly part of their little team, holding my breath for that probably isn't a good idea.

I have, however, had a handful of discussions with Wesley Windham-Pryce. As a former Watcher, he does have access into the old Watcher diaries, albeit limited access given his expulsion from the Watchers' Council proper. I'm the the son of a Slayer -- seemingly a rare occurrence, given the circumstances; he can provide me with a window into my mother's life that I never had the chance to open. So we've found a common ground.

Then there's the girl.

She was with Angel when he returned to Los Angeles. Supposedly she's a Slayer from the future. Though it's been hard to figure out if that's true or not, since she keeps to her room like a hermit. I've seen her occasionally, slipping out into the kitchen for some food. It was probably pure luck I saw her the first time, given the way she moves, but since then I've known what to watch for.

I don't know if she knows I've seen her, or if she cares too much. Maybe next time I catch her raiding the pantry, I'll stop her and say hello...

Angel has returned to Los Angeles.

I'm not sure if that's altogether a good thing.

In one respect, I get the impression that whatever had happened in Sunnydale is back to normal...or as normal as it gets when dealing with supernatural forces bent on destroying the world, or worse. Los Angeles is usually Angel's city, while Sunnydale is the Slayer's.

The problem was, none of Angel's team seemed particularly happy to be back. Or more to the point, to be back with Angel. None of the pleasantries I'd come to associate with Buffy Summers and her friends were present. To say things seemed tense would be a disservice to the word "tense."

Though Angel's return did mean that Spike would be returning to Sunnydale. Those two seemed to be barely able to stand each other. And while I do honestly admire Spike for what he tried to do in Angel's absence..."insufferable" is a kind word to describe him.

The ex-Watcher, Wesley Windham-Pryce, told me I was welcome to stay at the hotel as long as I needed to. Which was appreciated. At the moment, I don't really know what my next move is.

Maybe I should stay put for a while. Something to consider.

Having Finn show up like he did only made a bad situation a little worse.

It's been bad enough trying to get Spike to believe me, to trust me after what I tried to do. He says he does, but I can tell otherwise. The way he acts on patrol or when we're on a call. If I get into a jam, he'll hesitate ever so slightly, as if he's letting the demon get in one last good punch to my kidneys before killing it. It's almost as if I'm cannon fodder.

If that's the way things are going to be while we're working together, if that's to be my penance, then I accept that.

But then when Finn showed up looking for something of Angel's for some spell back in Sunnydale...well, that set me back a little bit. It just reminded him of what I did all over again. Though I don't think there was ever any love lost between Spike and Finn. Those two would fight to the death in a heartbeat, I think, if they could.

Fortunately, the worst that came of the whole thing was that Spike was extra-surly for a few days, even after Finn left. I don't know whether it was because of Finn's involvement when I tried to kill him, or whether it was because he's not exactly itching to get Angel back.

I am faily certain, however, that he could've stopped the Kahjii demon from taking a chunk out of my shoulder.

So, Spike can hold a grudge.

I know a thing or two about grudges.

And now another one of Angel's associates has come back from whatever's going on in Sunnydale. I remember, in doing research on the Slayer's friends, hearing about a werewolf who had dated Willow Rosenberg for a time. Since he was no longer in the picture, I figured I didn't need to worry about him.

Angel's associate? The werewolf in question.

Funny how life circles back on itself sometimes.

On the plus side, this Oz seems like a friendly enough guy...almost a complete reverse from Spike. He's quite possibly the most reserved person I've ever met, too...almost a complete reversal from David Nabbit.

We'll see how he and I get along. Lord knows I don't need a vampire and a werewolf both hoping I die in the field...

Lomboko is dead. Been dead for a few days, though I'm just now getting around to writing about it.

He actually showed up here, in Los Angeles, alone. He made short work of Spike and Harris, to say nothing about almost putting Nabbit into traction. He would've killed me, too, if it wasn't for Faith's timely appearance.

I guess I owe the girl one.

I wasn't expecting Lomboko to take matters into his own hands and try to kill me himself. But I suppose the prospect of the Slayer paying him a visit was enough to spur him on.

But at least it's over. And Las Vegas will be safe, as well, without Lomboko.

Which leaves us here.

Harris left for Sunnydale with Faith and another woman I didn't recognize. They'd apparently come to Los Angeles looking for some mystical book. And while Nabbit's out of the hospital, he's hardly ready to battle demons again...not that I would've thought he ever was, but that's neither here nor there.

That leaves Spike.

Alone.

I want to trust him. Especially after what happened with Lomboko and after what happened in Sunnydale a few months ago. But given what I know...

How can I be sure he hasn't just taken advantage of this opportunity, away from any restraints, away from the Slayer(s), to merely embrace his true nature?

I can't. Simple as that.

If I'm wrong, and he truly means well, then he's alone here. And I can help him.

And if I'm right...

...I just hope I'm wrong.

They called me on Lomboko. I suppose I knew they would, sooner or later. I'd just hoped to be gone before they did.

( As it happened, we were all too late. )

Am awake. Still sore. Probably a cracked rib or three. Pain should subside soon.

Turns out the vampire Angel is MIA. In his place is the monster Spike. Apparently something big went down with Buffy Summers in Sunnydale. Fuzzy on the details. Will find out more later.

Spike is working with Xander Harris and, strange as it may sound, David Nabbit. The internet billionaire David Nabbit. Or perhaps I still have a concussion and it was just someone who looked like David Nabbit.

Had to tell them about Mason Lomboko. Didn't get a good reaction. Especially when I told them I didn't know if Lomboko would keep coming after me. Hopefully he thinks I'm dead. Will make it easier to take him down later.

Can't wait to be able to walk without vision blurring. Do not want to be here. Not wanted here. Best to leave and clean up my own mess on my own.

Head pounding now. Must sleep. More later.

Haven't used this journal in a while. Didn't think that my soul-searching was worth keeping a record of, really.

Maybe I was wrong.

( The last few months have been, in a nutshell... )

So...that's it, then. This could well be my last entry. Wish I could have ended on something more upbeat, but I guess life is what you make of it.

I made mine pretty crummy there at the end.

Maybe I'll live long enough to make up for it...

I don't know what to do anymore.

I haven't been able to reach Damon since the spell failed. Ever since the monster paid me a visit, I've had questions that needed answers. I left word for him to contact me, but I've heard nothing. Now the phone number I was given has been disconnected, and my e-mails keep bouncing back.

Par for the course, I guess.

I've half-expected the Slayer to come crashing through my hotel room door at any moment, angry about what I tried to do to the monster. I'm sure she's not too happy I went behind her back, that I tried to kill one of her allies.

Perhaps she's taking her anger out on Finn first. Or maybe she just can't find me as easily as the monster could.

I've been volunteering at a local soup kitchen these past few days. They don't ask many questions, and it's given me something to do. It helps me keep my mind off of things...but things have a way of popping back into my mind. I haven't slept much in days. Too many thoughts running around in my head.

There's no way I can ever forgive the monster for what it did to my mother. That much I'm sure of. But can a vampire truly find redemption? I don't know if I'll ever be able to answer that.

I do know, though, that I can't stay here in Sunnydale.

If I stay, at some point I'll have to deal with Buffy Summers...I'm no longer prepared to do that. If I stay, at some point I'll have to deal with the monster again...I don't think I'm ready for that, either.

I need to leave. Find my focus again. Find some purpose for my life. Perhaps I'll go back to teaching, away from the demons and monsters of the world. Or perhaps I'll simply keep going until I find a place to stop. Maybe one day I'll return to Sunnydale to make peace with the Slayer, with my mother's memory...perhaps even with the monster itself.

Maybe the monster isn't the only one searching for redemption.

I just know I won't find it here.

( I failed you, Mother. )

I saw the monster.

Damon's spell had worked. The monster had a soul. I went to its crypt and watched it suffer.

It would have been so easy to kill it then. It might have even let me. To strike its heart with a stake, to see it explode into dust, to feel its remains settle on my hands as it scattered to the wind...it would have been so easy.

But it would have made a permanent enemy of Buffy Summers. So I stayed my hand.

It was truly pathetic. It whimpered. It cried. It flashed from one extreme personality to the next, raging then cowering.

It was as if a soul makes a vampire schizophrenic.

I gritted my teeth and talked to it. Tried to calm it down. Trying to talk to it as if it was human...I felt filthy. But I knew what I had to do.

I told it about the people it had killed over the years. I told it about the history of William the Bloody that I'd read. I described in detail the slaughters he had led in his time.

I told it about my mother, and how he snuffed her life out for nothing but a thrill and her leather coat.

Then I told it that there were many ways to end its suffering. That if I was in as much agony as it was, that I would do anything to end my pain.

I think it understood. I hope it did. I know it did.

As I left its crypt, I saw my mother's coat draped across a chair. I took back what was mine. I don't know if it saw me, or if it even registered that I was gone.

This morning, its cigarettes were gone. They'd been slowly eaten away by Damon's spell, and now no trace was left.

Either the spell had been broken...or the monster is finally dead and gone forever.

It has to be dead...

I think it worked.

I mixed the ingredients properly. I read the incantation Damon provided word for word; thank goodness I have some working knowledge of Latin, or else I'd think I might have bungled some key pronunciation.

The most telltale sign comes from the cigarettes, however.

They're glowing.

The monster should be in agony right about now.

But...I'm concerned.

The cigarettes are slowly...well, they're not burning. But it's like they were being slowly eaten away.

Does this mean the spell is temporary? Did I perform the ritual incorrectly? Or it is because of the damn cigarettes, because they're degradable, that the spell isn't permanent?

Dammit.

Just to be safe, I may need to go to it tonight. If it hasn't already killed itself out of some perverse self-loathing, it might need to be convinced of its actions.

I didn't want to see it again...but I'll feel better knowing for sure it's dead.

Finn came through.

He went to see the monster last night. He brought back something that belonged to it.

A pack of cigarettes.

Perhaps smoking will prove hazardous even to a vampire.

It feels good to be able to kid like that. Everything is ready. It feels like things are rushing forward suddenly. After years of waiting, tonight the monster will finally pay.

Finn offered to help with what I have to do, but...this is something I have to do alone. And not just because that's what Damon's instructions say. This is the end of my journey tonight, and while I appreciate the help Finn's given me up to now...tonight just isn't his fight.

Although I did say he was more than welcome to watch the monster die. He seems happy with that.

I don't know how hard this will be. I don't know what to expect. Damon's notes say nothing about that, only what to do. For all I know, this could kill me tonight.

I'm fine with that, so long as the monster dies with me.

How fitting that this should happen this weekend. It's almost poetic.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

Now you will be avenged.

I've made my preparations as best I can. I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

The full moon was last night. I have until Friday. If I fail, then I either wait a month, or...find another alternative.

It all hinges on Finn now.

When I spoke to him, he sounded like a good man. An honorable man. In some ways, a kindred spirit. His disgust with vampires and other refugees from Hell were quite clear. And it would seem he has quite an acrimonious history with the monster, as well.

He shared my concerns about dealing with the Slayer about this...but he was on board with what I wanted to do. Especially after I explained why.

He said he would bring me the last thing I needed. All it was, he said, was a matter of finding the right opportunity.

I'm ready. It's time.

Time to send the monster back to Hell...

( The end of my quest may soon be at hand, thanks to a fortunate turn of luck. )