After a long night of a brooding filled search for Drusilla and Darla, Angel slipped back into his too empty hotel and tossed his duster on the couch before plopping himself into it himself.

With a heaving sigh he leaned his head back and looked up to the ceiling. He seemed to be studying it. Looking at every dried stroke of the brush that had painted it years ago, every crack, every stain. However, no matter the length of time that he spend analyzing it, his problems still remained unsolved.

He had allowed two of the most vicious vampires to dine on at least a dozen of people. Deserving and evil people, yes, but they were still human. Worthy of a trial in their world, not the demonic. He had fired all of his friends. And was damned sure that he was doomed to be a vampire for all time. If not before his horrible actions than at least afterwards.

But it was there he sat. Contemplative. Silent. Unaware of everything except for his own issues.

"Boy, you really messed things up this time, didn't you?" A familiar voice from behind Angel had the vampire snapping his head around to see the source.

"Whistler," Angel let out between his teeth.

"I though we were better friends than that, Angel. And, judging from your tone, I'm not feeling the love." Whistler stepped further into what moonlight was left just before the dawn.

"I'm not sure how I am feeling about you right now." Angel stood up and walked around the front desk and behind the counter. Once he stopped at the fridge he waited for his old "friend" to explain his reasons for being there.

"Of course. Why am I here? you ask." Thinking, the shorter man looked around the lobby, taking his time. "Well, its simple." He approached the desk and rested his crossed arms on the counter, hovering over the edge. "And then it's not."

"Explain." Angel growled, trying, just a smedg, to keep his distance from the ache to beat something into a bloody pulp.

"Down to business. Right. Fine, if that's what you want, I'll give it to you." Turning around he placed his hands behind him on the desk and hefted himself to sit on top of it, turning to face him. As he dangled his feet for a minute he discussed the pros and cons of how to explain himself.

"You see, it's like this." Taking in a deep breath. "There is this thing called The Hecu. Judges. Three of them in fact. Who are here to trial your humanity." He waited to continue, wanting to see Angel's reaction to this new bit of information.

Angel's head was spinning now. His stomach wretched and twisted in his gut.

"Ah, yes." Taking pride at the sight of Angel's flustering look, he continued. "Well, Angel, my man, they have come to judge you. Your redemption, it will be determined with The Hecu as your judge."

"When?" After a few seconds to collect himself, Angel was finally able to respond with his first clear thought.

"Now."

"Dennis, why do men do stupid things?" Cordelia let out while she finished up the dishes.

Of course, there was no real response.

"I mean, Angel didn't have to do that. Come on. How is he going to know who needs saving? I'm the one who gets the 'mind numbing,' stinking--"

Trees and the smell of dirt and pine surrounded her. The constant sound of wood hitting against rock rang in her ears. A National Forest sign popped up in the mists of the evening through the trees and read "Irrame National Forest." It was then that Cordelia's mind numbness became a simple agonizing sting of her head.

Once Cordelia gained complete comprehension of what was going on around her she let out a rare sound. Something with the mix of a scream, a groan and a growl, if it was possible, and said, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

* * *

"Buffy?" Dawn entered Buffy's dark room with a silent whisper of her name. Upon noticing her sister's form underneath the covers of her bed she made her way quietly to her side, closing the door softly behind her.

"What's wrong?" Dawn had seen her sister this distraught before. With Angel. And even though she was a hard sister to live with, as all sisters go, she still hated to see her hurt so much.

"Riley's gone." Was all that Buffy could get out what with all of her being exhausted from crying and thinking and crying again.

Dawn's on reaction to this was to climb onto the bed with her older sister and sit against the back of it and guided Buffy's head to lay in her lap, stroking her hair as she did with her when she needed comfort.

After a few hours of being alone with Buffy, Dawn had fallen asleep, let Buffy cry, let her talk about everything that was running through her head and then let her cry again. Finally, Buffy was in a deep sleep. So deep, even, that she didn't hear the light tap on the door, emitting her own best friend, Willow into the darkened room.

"Hey." Dawn released as Willow closed the door behind her to just a crack, barely even a whisper, more of a mere mouthing movement.

"Hi." Willow returned. "Don't ask, but could you do me a favor and go down stairs to talk to Xander. Everyone is down there waiting. I need to tell Buffy something." Without answering, Dawn slowly began to exit the bed and room, leaving the wiccan to talk to the slayer.

Crouching down in front of Buffy's form on the bed she began to brush her friend's hair away from her face. "Buffy, wake up. I need to talk to you." In a clear yet gentle voice, Willow eased Buffy's back into conscienciousness.

"Willow?" Still focusing, Buffy rubbed at her eyes and sat up on her elbow.

"Hey. I know this is kind of awkward, but Giles said that the council called him and--"

"The council? Why? He doesn't even work for them anymore." Her vision had cleared with even the mention of the council who continuously chose to interrupt her life for three years straight.

"I know. But that's why its important. They said that something huge is going down at this forest between here and Los Angeles. We have to leave soon in order to get there in time. Everyone. I'm not sure why and neither is Giles. He was just told that it was in our best interest, and others', to bring everyone."

"Okay, let me get my jacket." Swinging her legs over the side she started to pull on her socks.

"No. No, Buffy. They said that it might take between two days to two weeks. You might want to pack a few things. I'll help you."

Although Buffy was confused beyond words, she still thought that she should listen to her friend. To trust her in this felt as if it were being dug into her head at the moment. All Buffy could do was say, "Okay."

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