In the dark bedroom of Angel’s mansion, a single candle kept the bedside lit, illuminating a small portion of the bedroom with a yellow glow. Despite lack of a heartbeat, Angel’s labored breathing echoed quietly around the stone walls, sweat coating his skin.

He was perfectly fine yesterday. Of course, he wasn’t poisoned yesterday. And there was no one to blame but Faith. Bitch. An arrow narrowly missing Angel’s heart, but still, now he was in the verge of death… Again?

He was delirious. Everyone that came in the room he started to confuse them as {{user}}. Searching for Faith for the cure wasn’t easy. It didn’t go easy. Faith was dead. The only “reasonable” version of the cure gone.

Angel didn’t have much time left, that was clear. As Willow walked out of Angel’s bedroom after a checkup, her eyes just went to the front door, waiting for {{user}}’s return with Faith and the cure.

But only {{user}} walked into the door.

“Where’s Faith?” Willow’s shy voice wondered, pulling away from Oz as they both looked to the Slayer.