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“Father, you’re here late tonight,” the younger man commented.
“I’m expecting a call from an old friend,” the priest replied, wondering what the other man would think if he knew that the old friend in question was a real vampire or that tonight’s conversation would be the latest occasion in a tradition that went back almost fifty years. He wondered if it would ever occur to Angel to call more than once a year. Angel had precipitated two conversations with him in half a century that fell outside their established pattern and those conversations had only happened because circumstances had necessitated them.
“Angel probably feared it would be an imposition,” the elderly priest thought with a sigh. Still it would have been nice. After all these years he considered Angel a friend more than anything else. One of the few friends he had left who remembered the times he’d grown up in and the only one left who knew the truth about vampires and Slayers and other things the rest of the world chose not to believe in.
Almost a lifetime ago, when he’d just been Brian rather than Father, he’d befriended a serious young woman who’d spoken of destiny with true conviction. Elaine had been the Slayer. Through his friendship with her Brain had learned the truth behind the things that went bump in the night.
For a few years he’d helped Elaine in her scared duty, but like all Slayers Elaine had died young. Brian had tried to continue alone but he’d been fighting blind. Elaine had kept their friendship secret from her Watcher, who wouldn’t have approved, and so he’d lost access to the prophecies and portents along with Elaine. “It was probably for the best,” Father Brian admitted. “I wouldn’t have lasted long without Elaine.” Still the lost of both a friend and a purpose in life had hit him hard, but it was what had eventually led him to religion. By becoming a priest he felt he was continuing Elaine’s fight against the darkness. It gave him back his purpose.
After he gave up demon hunting Brian had never expected to see another vampire thought, let alone to meet one in his first church.
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Brian felt his jaw dropping open as he saw the dark haired man’s fingers. He’d noticed the man’s face twist in pain as he dabbed his fingers into the basin of holy water at the door before crossing himself. Knowing Elaine had taught Brian to be cautious of anyone who avoided holy symbols, so he’d noticed the brief change in expression almost on a subconscious level, but to see the man’s blistered and burned fingers was still a shock. He could imagine why a vampire would voluntarily come into a church, let alone deliberately burn himself to observe a religious custom.
Even if Brian could have drawn a stake and attacked the vampire in the middle of the church he wouldn’t have, he was too curious. A short time later he told himself he was only monitoring a potentially dangerous situation when he offered to take confessions as soon as the vampire lined up to give one, but knew deep down that curiosity was motivating him even more strongly.
Listening to the soft cadence of Latin Brian realized that this wasn’t just a vampire he was an old one. Old enough to be familiar with the Latin forms rather than the English ones. Then the rhythm shifted, and the words became unfamiliar.
“Wait, I’m sorry, I can’t understand you,” Brain said.
“Trust me Father, you’ll sleep better at night this way,” the vampire replied.
“How can I help you if I don’t understand?” Brian asked.
“Don’t worry, I’ve already decided on my penance.”
“This isn’t just about punishment, it’s about being counseled,” Brian said, wondering why he did knowing what it was he was talking to.
“You can’t help me.”
“Then why do this.”
“There’s comfort in tradition.”
“You were Catholic when you were alive?” Brian asked.
“You know what I am?” the vampire sounded startled.
“Yes, but I don’t know why you’re here,” Brian replied. “This isn’t a game to you, it would be to any other vampire I encountered.”
“Today, specifically, I’m here because I remembered that today was my sister’s birthday. I’d forgotten the date for almost two centuries. I killed her. I loved her more than anyone and I killed her. I saw a girl who looked like my sweet Kathy, the first thing that I thought was how could I have forgotten her birthday, then I remembered how I killed her.”
“I’ve never heard a vampire regretting a kill before,” Brian said.
The vampire laughed bitterly. “I’m unique. A vampire with a human soul, it’s not a graceful mix.”
“How?”
“Does it matter? Can I finish this?”
“Of course,” Brian stammered then he listened silently to the remainder of the confession, choosing not to comment when the vampire switched back to the unknown language.
Later that day Brian noticed the vampire at the services. He watched in disbelief as the vampire joined the line of people waiting to accept communion. Then he suddenly understood what the vampire had meant when he said he’d already decided on his penance and Brain knew he wasn’t going to let him go through with it.
Brian walked down the aisle and tapped the vampire on the shoulder, receiving a defiant glare for his interruption.
“You don’t want to cause a scene do you?” Brian asked.
“No,” the vampire sighed.
“Then come on,” Brian led the vampire to one of the small offices near the cathedral. “What’s your name?” he asked.
The vampire ducked his head as if embarrassed and mumbled “Angelus.”
Brian bit back a comment about the irony of the name.
“Angelus, before this goes any further I should ask you if you understand what it means to commit suicide,” Brian said.
“According to the church, suicides go to Hell,” Angel replied. “Doesn’t mean much to me, my life has already damned me, I doubt this will make much of a difference. Besides, it isn’t really committing suicide.”
“How do you figure that?” Brian asked. “Taking communion will kill a vampire.”
“Only if God rejects me,” Angel replied.
“That isn’t how God works. He won't change the rules to satisfy your desire for an answer. I can’t be a part of this,” Brian said.
“I didn’t ask you to,” Angel said. “You didn’t have to involve yourself.”
“Maybe leading you to me was God’s way of stopping you from killing yourself,” Brian reasoned.
“No,” Angel “Being sent away is still being rejected, if God doesn’t want me, let him kill me.”
“Why now?” Brian asked. “I don’t think your soul is a new development so why are you suddenly determined to kill yourself?”
“My sister…”
“I don’t buy that. Your sister’s death happened life times ago, so why are you doing this today?”
Tiredly Angel sat down on one of the office’s chairs. “Because I don’t care anymore. I’ve been a medic, helped people, made friends, raised a child; I thought I was doing good. It meant nothing; my friend and his daughter are both dead. Both murdered, Shannon by her husband no less. Humans can be every bit as evil as demons.”
“What happened?” Brian asked.
“The Depression, the second World War, Shannon’s murder, being turned over to a lynch mob by someone I thought was a friend. I was just trying to help them and they hung me!”
“Doesn’t appear to have done much harm,” Brian commented.
“That’s not the point, they wanted to kill me.”
“So you’re going to kill yourself?” Brian asked blandly.
“Afterwards I left them to die. I want to say they deserved it, but I’m no better. Having a soul doesn’t make a person good. I’m still what I am, what I always was. I let them die; I’m no better than they were. I thought I’d give God the same choice about me.”
“You made a mistake, a horrible one, but this isn’t an answer. This is just another mistake,” Brian said. “Learn from what happened, be the better person next time.”
“I’m not a person.”
“You said you have a soul, as far as I’m concerned that makes you as much a person as any member of this congregation,” Brian said firmly.
“You were right about me not wanting to cause a scene,” Angel said stubbornly. “But this is what I’m going to do, with or without your co-operation.”
“Alright,” Brian said, thinking fast. “If you’re determined to do this, but it shouldn’t matter if you eat the whole wafer or just a little bit, either way it’s still God’s choice; I have no idea what a safe dose would be for you. If God wants you dead I’ll give you too much and you’ll die, if not you’ll live, will that work?”
“It’ll work,” Angel replied reluctantly.
Brian felt sick to his stomach. He had fought vampires for three years along side Elaine and Angel was obviously something very different. That Angel had somehow come to possess a soul despite being a vampire clicked with what Brian had seen of him. And it made this thing they were about to do very, very wrong.
Brian had encountered people who did stupid things to try to force God to answer them before. Mostly they wanted proof His existence. Angel already believed in God, the question he demanded an answer to was whether or not he deserved to live.
So Angel had decided to place his life in jeopardy and wait to see if God would save him. But it didn’t work that way; Brian knew that. If you took poison God had nothing to do with you’re dying. Of course that Angel had chosen the symbolic body of Christ as his toxin of choice added a number of theological connotations that the vampire was certainly aware of, but it still boiled down to suicide.
Brian had no desire to help anyone play games with their life, but Angel had made it clear that he intended to go through with this one way or another. At least Brian’s intervention gave him a chance at survival.
“A chance to experience a horrific amount of pain,” Brian couldn’t help but think. He’d seen what blessed objects did to a vampire.
“He was supposed to have the answers,” Brian thought to himself as he began the ritual. “But he couldn’t think of anything better than a fool’s gamble, which, even if it were successful would still do much harm.
Was already doing harm; Brian realized as Angel flinched when he automatically blessed the vampire. Still it seemed that they’d already gone too far. Brian broke off a small piece of the wafer and placed it in Angel’s mouth, wincing himself as he saw tears fill the vampire’s eyes.
With difficulty Angel swallowed even as burns formed on his lips. He began shaking and Brian caught him as he collapsed.
Brian watched helplessly as Angel convulsed, his features flickering between human and demon. Ten minutes later, the worst seemed to have passed. Angel lay on the floor, still as death, a sheen of sweat covering his skin, his eyes closed.
It had taken Angel most of the day to recover and then he’d disappeared. A year to the day later he showed up again, looking thinner and more tired. That year Brian managed to keep the conversation going for several hours before Angel threatened to go to someone else to complete his ritual. The year after that Brian hadn’t even been surprised to see the souled vampire.
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“Father, are you alright?” a concerned voice asked.
Father Brian sat up and blinked sleep from his eyes. “What time is it?” he asked glancing around his office.
“Eight ‘o clock,” the young woman answered, resuming her dusting. “Did you spend the night here?”
“I must have fallen asleep,” Father Brian said. He examined his answering machine, it was on but there were no messages. A worried frown touched his face. Angel had contacted him on yesterday’s date, without fail, for forty-eight years. Brian had watched with a feeling of helpless aggravation as the souled vampire had gradually fallen apart. That first year, Angel had looked healthy and generally well off. He’d been standoffish but accustom to human interaction. By the early eighties Angel had been living on the streets, eating rats and slowly starving. Brian wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that his yearly conversations with Angel were the only ones the vampire ever engaged in. Every year Brian worried more about Angel’s ritual, as the vampire’s health failed it took him longer and longer to recover from taking communion. Brian could easily picture the day when he would simply burst into ash.
Then everything changed. Angel had shown up at the church almost a month early in ’95. He told Brian he was going to California to see something.
That year, Angel had called on his sister’s birthday instead of coming. His voice was alive with hope and excitement. Angel told Brian about his Slayer, how he was gong to help her. Brian could hear the adoration in the souled vampire’s voice even though he hadn’t even met the girl then.
The following year Buffy was still all Angel could talk about, her friends, her life, her fighting style, her smile, the color of her eyes, her bravery, her wit. Brian had been worried when Angel admitted that he hadn’t told Buffy he was a vampire yet, but a year later that fear had been laid to rest.
Angel’s secret was out, but he and Buffy were closer than ever. They were dating and Angel seemed to have completely forgotten that he’d dedicated nearly a half-century to self-destruction and distrust of the entire human race. He had a purpose and he was in love. In Buffy he’d found both sunshine and salvation.
By the next call all that was in ruins. That year marked the second time Angel would contact Brian more than once in a year. During the first call, the one on his sister’s birthday in late November, Angel had told Brian about loosing his soul, and all that followed, about how he and Buffy couldn’t be together even though she still loved him in spite of what he’d done while soulless. Then the day after Christmas Angel had called again, to beg Brian to not open the letter Angel had sent, to assure him that it wasn’t relevant anymore.
Brian had agreed promptly. That Angel had called told him the contents of the letter, Brian didn’t need to read it. Instead he drug the story of what had brought Angel back to considering suicide out of the reluctant vampire, as well as what had caused his change of heart. The miracle of the timely snowstorm simply amazed Brian.
The last year they’d had a philosophical discussion about the possible relationship between the Powers the Be, whom Angel now fought for, and the God of his childhood. Brian had been delighted by the change in Angel. In the elapsed year Angel had found both friends and a mission. Those things had given him a confidence and a sense of self-worth he’d never had before.
This year Brian had eagerly anticipated the call, looking forward to seeing more of the person Angel was becoming, only to be greeted with silence.
Brian knew the risks in what Angel did. He knew only too well that Angel’s silence could easily mean that the souled vampire had been killed. For a long while Brian just stared at the phone. He thought about calling a parish in LA and asking someone there to make inquiries, but realized that if the worst had happened it could never be proved conclusively. If he truly wanted to learn what had happened to his friend he needed to ask for himself. Only someone who understood the demon world would know what to look for. When Brian dialed a phone number, it was that of a travel agency.
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*** Note: Takes place during “Reprise” before Angel takes the book from the gang’s new offices. ***
Cordelia and Wesley glanced up hopefully when the door to the office swung open to admit an elderly priest.
“We help the helpless,” Cordelia chimed. “What can we do for you?” She turned to Wesley and asked in a whisper, “A priest wouldn’t stiff us, right?”
“If I could speak with Angel?” the priest requested.
“Angel Investigations is just a name,” Wesley replied stiffly. “If you’ll just tell us your problem…”
“Has something happened to Angel?” Father Brian asked anxiously.
“Look, forget about Angel!” Cordelia snapped. “Do you want our help or not?”
“I’m sorry, you don’t understand,” Brian sighed. “Two weeks ago Angel failed to keep an appointment with me for the first time since the 1950’s. I’m very worried about him.”
“Don’t be,” Cordelia said bitterly. “He’s doing exactly what he wants and the Hell with everyone else.”
“Where can I find him?” Brian pressed.
“Truly Father, Angel isn’t the person you remember,” Wesley said seriously. “He’s obsessed with the pursuit of revenge. Whatever relationship you may believe you have with him, it’s been swept away by anger, there’s no reaching him now.”
“I owe it too him, and to myself, to try,” Brian said. “Not just because he’s my friend. Revenge isn’t healthy for the soul and it’s my business to look after souls.”
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