Man of the World

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Through Ats S5, Origin, then back to Ats S3, Loyalty.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but if I did, they'd be a lot happier and I wouldn't have to take out student loans.

Archive: If you already have my stuff. If not, just ask, and I'll be happy to share.

Summary: Fred's death and the return of his memories leave Wesley a desperate man. He makes a dangerous bid to make things right, only to find that he's a stranger in a world that's no longer familiar to him.

"I want to be a man of the world, blood in my veins and a hurt in my heart, hide in the street with the noise and the dirt, and the one still looking for a brand new start. Oh, I've been sleeping far too long, hiding out in a palace of gold. Show me one thing before I'm gone that can't be bought and can't be sold. Show me how to come alive, show me how to make you mine. 'Cause if you'd only be my girl, I could be a man of the world." ~Marc Cohn, "Man of the World"

Chapter 2

"It is not the critic that counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again, who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows achievement and who at the worst if he fails at least fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with the cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." ~Theodore Roosevelt

He hurt, which was strange. Dead people weren't supposed to hurt.

The steady beeping filled his senses, marking time and seconds. It made no sense. Wesley was certain that he was dead. He was supposed to die; that had been his entire purpose—it was a suicide mission to the past to save Connor, and thus Fred, but not himself.

Wesley hadn't been interested in saving himself.

"Hey there." Cordelia's voice washed over him, and Wesley's eyes fluttered open. She was alive. He'd almost forgotten that she was alive in this time.

He wanted to speak, but found himself unable to do so. The only sound that came out was a harsh croak, and Cordelia put a straw to his lips. "Just little sips," she warned him.

"Cordy?" he whispered once his parched throat was eased.

"In the flesh," she replied. "Angel called me and told me what happened."

She had been on vacation, with the Groosalug. He remembered now.

His joy at seeing her alive and well faded as he remembered that he hadn't wanted to be here. Wesley hadn't wanted Angel to save him.

Pain swept over him. This wasn't what he'd wanted.

"You should get some more sleep," Cordelia urged. "Those guys really did a number on you."

Wesley closed his eyes, unable to respond. All he could feel was a sense of bitter disappointment at being alive.

~~~~~

"So how is he?" Angel asked, jiggling Connor, who burbled at him.

Cordelia sighed. "I don't know, Angel. The doctor said that he was still in serious condition."

"But he talked to you?"

"He said my name," Cordelia replied. "That was pretty much it. Wesley was only conscious for a few minutes."

Angel sighed. They had been picking through Wesley's notes, trying to figure out what it was he had been trying to accomplish by going after Holtz alone. What he had done—it didn't seem to fit with the Wesley they all knew.

When Gunn had arrived, Angel had put Wesley in the back of the truck, then he had seen to the bodies. He'd discovered what Wes had meant by the Rhizikian Urn by sheer accident. After Angel had moved the bodies and gotten rid of the gun, he'd returned to ensure that all other evidence was gone; he didn't want anything to tie Wesley to the scene.

Angel had searched through Holtz's things and had found something that looked like an urn. Thinking he would bring it back to the hotel so that Wesley could explain what he'd meant by trapping Sahjhan in it once he was conscious again, Angel turned to leave.

And walked right through the demon.

Sahjhan had cursed, and he'd made some threats against Connor. Angel hadn't believed it would be that easy, but he'd opened the urn anyway, thinking he could at least give it a try.

Amazingly enough, it really was that easy.

Now, the urn with Sahjhan trapped inside was sitting inside the safe in Angel's office, and they were trying to figure out what to do next. Angel knew that Wolfram & Hart was still interested in his son, and so he was unwilling to leave Connor with anyone right now, not until they knew he'd be safe.

At least Holtz was out of the picture.

"Gunn, Fred, have you guys found anything?"

Fred shook her head. "Wesley's notes were pretty clear. He found a prophecy that said you were going to kill Connor, but that doesn't fit with what he did. It, well, it almost looks like he was planning on taking Connor away somewhere, but he went after Holtz instead."

"If you ask me, it looks like Wes might have jumped off the deep end," Gunn inserted. "It's great that he took Holtz out, sure, but that's not Wesley."

"Gunn is right," Cordelia agreed. "Wesley doesn't do suicide missions, and he doesn't... He doesn't kill people like that."

"From what I got, Wesley knew that Holtz was going to take Connor. That's why I think there was time travel involved, because he seemed to know things about the future," Lorne put in. "Wesley didn't think he had a choice."

Angel looked down at Connor, who had fallen asleep in his arms. "Frankly, I don't care why Wesley did it. With Holtz out of the way, it's one less enemy we have to worry about, and right now we've got plenty of them." Angel couldn't express the relief he felt at knowing that he wouldn't have to worry about Holtz and his gang any longer. There was a part of him that had wanted to take Holtz out as Wesley had—one quick strike and the man would have been dead. The guilt he'd felt over killing the vampire-hunter's family had stayed his hand.

Angel knew that he might have deserved anything Holtz meted out, but Connor didn't. Connor was an innocent in all of this.

"What should I do?"

Groo's quiet voice broke in on the conversation, and Cordelia winced when she realized she'd completely forgotten about his presence. "Nothing, Groo," she replied. "There really isn't—" Cordy stopped. "Wait, maybe you could watch over Wesley at the hospital?" She looked over at Angel. "You said that some of Holtz's gang survived. They might go after him."

Angel grimaced, having forgotten all about the possibility. If something happened to Wesley while he was helpless, he'd never forgive himself. "That would be great," he said.

"And if they come for him?" the Groosalug asked. He was a warrior; guarding their leader from harm was the least he could do for his princess.

Even if he was starting to think that she wasn't his princess.

"Make sure they don't hurt him," Cordelia said. "But don't kill anybody unless you have to."

"As you wish, princess," Groo replied.

They waited until he was gone, and then Gunn spoke. "We're going to need to set up a rotation or something. At least until we're sure that none of Holtz's gang are going to be coming after him."

"I can take the night shift after today," Angel replied. He glanced at Gunn. "I want at least two people with Connor at all times, though. I want him to be safe."

"Connor's our first priority, Angel," Cordelia agreed. "I'm sure Wesley knows that. That was the whole reason he went after Holtz in the first place."

~~~~~

When Wesley woke again, the Groosalug was standing near the door—standing guard. He recognized the stance immediately. Groo often looked like that when he was around Cordy, protecting her from danger. Wesley wondered what it was they thought he needed protection from.

Although he'd wanted to die—quite badly—Wesley had no plan to kill himself now. There seemed to be something vaguely wrong with it, and the others wouldn't understand. Besides, it was only a matter of time before this line of work resulted in his death anyway. Wesley could wait a little while.

"You are awake."

"Why are you here?"

"The others believed you might be in some danger from those remaining of the band you attacked," Groo replied. "They sent me to guard you while they remained with Connor."

"Of course," Wesley murmured. He wondered if he ought to warn Groo of Cordelia's changing affections, but thought better of it. In the past, Groo had worked it out for himself. Wesley never had discovered what had happened to the man.

"Do you need anything?"

Wesley looked over at the glass of water on the bedside table and thought about reaching for it, but an aborted try had him thinking better of the idea. It felt as though he'd been run over by a truck, which he supposed made sense, given what had happened.

If only Angel had been just a little later.

Groo caught the look and the movement, and interpreted it correctly. He moved gracefully across the small room, picking up the glass and putting the straw to Wesley's lips. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome." Groo watched him carefully, and Wesley could see the wheels turning in the other man's head, trying to work something out. "Why do you wish to die so badly?"

The question came as a shock. Wesley had expected the question from Lorne, or perhaps Angel, but not Groo, who was entirely caught up in Cordy. "I don't know what you're talking about." He still hadn't decided how much to tell the others, if anything. There was a part of him that never wanted them to know what he was capable of.

There was another part that wanted to spill the whole ugly truth so they would know, so they would understand, that he was not the man they believed him to be. Wesley wasn't sure he was capable of living a lie.

"I sought out the most fearsome creatures my world held," Groo said softly. "I fought them in the hope that they would kill me and end my existence and my shame. I became a champion against my will, wishing only for an honorable ending. Is that not what you sought?"

Wesley swallowed hard. "I am not the person you think I am. I returned only to correct a mistake. I was never supposed to stay."

"And yet you are here." Groo looked off, out the small window, and then back at Wesley. "Do you know if my princess loves me?"

Wesley found that he couldn't lie, not to the Groosalug's honest face, his dark, inhuman eyes pleading. "Yes. I do." He hoped that Groo would manage to read his expression so that he didn't have to speak the words out loud. Wesley knew all too well the pain of loving someone who loved a person that was not you.

"I see." Groo smiled sadly. "She asked me to guard you. I will stay until you are well, and then..."

"You wouldn't have to leave," Wesley replied. "We could use a man like you."

"I do not think so."

It was Wesley's turn to read between the lines, and he understood. As hard as it might be to have love unrequited, it was harder still to watch another's love unfold.

He closed his eyes. He'd nearly forgotten in the struggle to save Connor and thus Fred—she was in love with Gunn. Perhaps, in this time, she always would be.

"Would you like me to call someone?" Groo asked. "The woman who came earlier said she could bring something for the pain when you awoke."

"No," Wesley replied. "It wouldn't help."

"Then I will stand guard outside your door," Groo said. "Unless you would like me to stay."

"You can leave," Wesley said. "I'll be safe enough here."

"I don't think so." Groo almost sounded apologetic. "She asked me to stay, you know."

Wesley just sighed. "I know."

~~~~~

Angel moved silently through the hallways. It was after visiting hours, but no one seemed to notice him. Groo was standing stiffly outside Wesley's hospital room, and the vampire felt himself softening a little bit towards the warrior.

Really, it wasn't that he disliked Groo. It was just that Groo had something he wanted, and Angel was a little jealous.

Okay. More than a little jealous.

"How is he?" Angel asked softly, not wanting to call too much attention to their presence lest the nurses tried to chase them off.

Groo hesitated. "He seemed weary."

Angel nodded. He couldn't quite figure out what had happened to Wesley, what had changed. That night they'd gone to the ballet, they had all been happy. There had been a sense of camaraderie, but recently Wes had seemed to pull away from them. Now that they knew about the prophecy that he'd been translating, and a little about his concerns, it made more sense. Angel had a feeling that there was more to it, though.

"Why don't you head back to the hotel?" he suggested. "Cordelia said she'd stay there with Connor tonight."

Groo nodded. "Of course."

Angel watched him leave, wondering if he'd misread the look in the other man's eyes. It was almost like jealousy. That was crazy, though. There was no reason for Groo to be jealous of him.

He slipped inside Wesley's room, settling into the chair next to the bed. Angel watched as Wesley's eyes fluttered open, and he frowned as he saw the man's instant fear, swiftly subdued. "Wes? It's just me. Angel. You okay? You want me to get you something?"

"No," Wesley whispered, his voice hoarse. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," Angel replied, a little bewildered. He wondered why Wesley would be so surprised to see him. "Justine and a few others from Holtz's gang are still on the loose. I wanted to be sure they didn't try to come after you here."

Wesley looked away from him. "Thank you."

Angel didn't think he sounded all that sincere. "I'll let you sleep." Silence filled the room, and Angel knew that Wesley was still awake. When Angel began to think that Wesley was going to remain awake for a while, he spoke. "Why did you do it?"

"I had to." Angel thought that he wasn't going to explain further for a long moment, and then Wesley asked, "What did Lorne tell you?"

"He said you'd possibly gone forward in time, or come back. He wasn't too sure."

"Lorne was right." Wesley sucked in a breath, wincing at the pain. "Where I came from, it's two years in the future. Holtz took Connor and raised him in a hell dimension, Cordelia and Fred were killed, and you became the head of Wolfram & Hart in order to save your son. I needed to fix things."

Angel gripped the blanket on Wesley's bed. "Why you, Wes? Why didn't I do it?"

"Because it was my mistake," Wesley said hoarsely. "I was the one who allowed Connor to be taken. I was wrong about the prophecy. It was planted by Sahjhan, and I was the fool who believed."

Angel stared at him, seeing the anguish on Wesley's face through the darkness. "You saved him, Wes. It doesn't matter now."

"It matters." Wesley could tell that Angel didn't understand. How could he? Connor was safe; his friend hadn't betrayed him. Holtz was dead. All was well. In this world, Wesley was the hero who had saved Connor; Angel would not try to kill him, wouldn't even dream of doing so.

This was why Wesley hadn't wanted to survive. He was now stuck inside a life that didn't fit him anymore, knowing what he knew.

"What else happened?"

"Too much to explain," Wesley replied. "All that matters is that it won't happen now."

Angel reached for his arm, gripped his hand. "I don't understand what you've been through. I know that, but..." He trailed off, uncertain of how to explain. Wesley had done what he'd needed to do and couldn't. "I won't forget it."

Wesley wondered why that didn't make him feel better.

~~~~~

The next day brought Gunn and Fred, which was just as painful as Wesley had expected it to be. They were obviously happy together—in the first bloom of love—and knowing that somewhere down the road it might end didn't make it better. The events that had led to Fred's changed feelings would never happen now. He might wait years for something that would never come, something that he'd had once upon a time, however briefly.

Wesley had gotten a lot better at hiding his feelings over the last few years, which was a talent that no one here knew he had. He was able to smile, to put them off with half-truths. No one would know that he'd come back specifically to save Fred, or that she had loved him.

No one would know how painful it was for him to merely be alive.

"We've been looking for Justine and the rest of them," Fred said, sitting next to the bed. "Angel's still kinda worried that she might come after you, but he's looking."

Wesley managed the ghost of a smile. "I'm sure he's doing everything he can."

"Do you want us to stay?" Gunn asked. "We can be here as long as you need us, but—"

"No," Wesley said quickly. "I'm sure you have better things to do."

"I wouldn't say that," Fred said, glancing up at Gunn, sensing the tension and not knowing how to alleviate it. "We told Angel we would stay."

"No one is going to come in during the day," Wesley replied. "There are too many witnesses."

Fred didn't appear to be convinced, but it was good enough for Gunn. "Of course there are," Gunn agreed. "I'm sure Wes will be fine. Someone will be by later."

"Thank you." Wesley watched them leave with a sigh of relief. He had no idea how he was supposed to be around them all the time. That had been the one good thing about his exile: he hadn't had to watch Gunn and Fred together.

He must have fallen asleep briefly, because the next thing Wesley heard was a voice waking him.

"So this is where you ended up."

Wesley's eyes shot open when he heard her voice. It was a familiar sound; he'd gotten to know Justine's voice quite well during the summer when Angel had been at the bottom of the ocean. "You found me."

"You had to know I would." She smirked. "You think they'd show a little more appreciation by keeping someone here, just in case I came by."

"I sent them away." Wesley smiled gently. "I knew you would come."

"Do you have some kind of death wish?" she demanded.

"No, not 'some kind of death wish,'" Wesley replied easily. "I just really want to be done with it all."

She was torn; he could see it in her face. "What? I'm going to kill you and give you what you want?"

"Perhaps, or perhaps you'll get your revenge by leaving me alive," Wesley replied disinterestedly. "I have no idea at the moment."

Justine held up a knife. "I could do it, you know. One quick slice, and no one would be able to save you, even if you are in a hospital."

"Let's see you do it."

She would have done it, Wesley knew. He could see it in her eyes. Grief and rage had caused her to go a bit mad, and she was planning on going for the jugular.

Apparently, the Groosalug had taken Cordelia's command to protect him fairly seriously, however, because he'd shown up that morning as soon as it had appeared that Cordy was going to spend most of her day with Connor and Angel. If he couldn't be useful at the hotel, he would guard Wesley at the hospital.

He moved soundlessly from the doorway to Justine's side, grabbing her wrist and twisting it behind her back, squeezing until the pain caused her to drop the weapon. She began screaming immediately. "I'm going to kill you! He'll betray you! He's nothing but an animal! A demon!"

Security came bursting into the room, drawn by the sounds of screaming. "What's going on here?" one guard, a burly young man, demanded.

"She tried to kill my friend," Groo replied simply. "She had a knife."

It didn't take long for security to restrain her and drag her away. By that point, she was more subdued, and it seemed that the fight had drained out of her. Wesley knew that he ought to feel some pity for her, but he found himself incapable.

"What are you doing here, Groo?" Wesley asked.

"Cordelia asked me to protect you," he replied. "She's with Angel now."

"I see." Wesley sighed, a little disappointed that Groo's timing was so impeccable. "I suppose I ought to thank you."

"Thank me when you wish to live again," Groo said. "Would you like me to stay outside?"

Wesley shook his head slowly. "No. I think I would prefer the company. Perhaps you could tell me a little more about how things were going in Pylea? I don't believe I had the chance to talk to you about that."