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This story is No. 2 in the series "The Vulnerability of Faith". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Charles Gunn left L.A. in 2006 to get away from the Angel Investigations. Twenty-three years later his son shows up in L.A. to find Angel -- to let Angel and Company know what really happened to Charles Gunn. Sequel to "the vul. of faith"

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Highlander > Other BtVS/AtS Characters(Moderator)DemonaFR181227,997034,0692 Aug 032 Aug 03Yes

Prologue: Family Returns Home

For Disclaimer and Notes see first chapter.

Prologue: Family Returns Home

Year: June 23, 2028
Location: Chicago, Illinois, USA

I stood there with the box in my hands. I had never seen the box before but I was so sure that it held something important because my father had left it to *me*. After we buried him it was left to me in his will. Kate was left most of the household things and the house and I was left this single locked box and a sealed envelope with my father’s name written across the back seal. I was certainly confused as to what was going on and why I was left a measly box and card.

“I was told that you were to get these immediately after we knew of your father’s death. I am so sorry Wesley that your father is dead…but the most important matter at hand right now is that you attend to these. I was told by Charles that this box and letter were of the utmost importance,” my father’s best friend, Rick, said to me.

“What are they? What’s in it?” I asked completely clueless.

“I was just told to hold this and never to open it. Charles told me that when he died then this box and letter were immediately to go to you and you were to do with them as you wished,” Rick answered.

“So you are telling me in all the time you have had the envelope and box you never looked inside it?” I asked, completely in disbelief.

“I never looked in it Wesley, never. He told me it was for your eyes only. In the business that your father and I dealt with your eyes only could mean that in the literal sense. I didn’t feel like testing out my luck with the letter, it isn’t for me; it’s for you.” I looked down at the letter in my hands warily now. “Well come on man, open it. I’ve had that thing for years I’m dying of curiosity here!” Rick said to me and jolted me out of my train of thought.

“Ok, ok, just um…back off. Who knows what’s inside this letter…” I trailed off and slowly opened the envelope.


A year later …

I stood alone in a bus terminal in L.A., the City of Angels. I took out a piece of paper that held a single address on it. I shook my head at the fact that I was actually here that I had actually come here from Chicago, but quickly dismissed that thought as I looked back at the address. It was important that I had to come here—I just didn’t know why. I walked out front to hail a cab in the middle of the night when my flight had landed. The rest of the passengers looked like they were sleep walking, but I thrived on this, this was my time of the day; nighttime had been the day for me for so long that it was only natural to become semi-nocturnal. I hailed my taxi and headed to the address on the paper. I pulled up outside of a rundown looking house, but Rick had assured me that the people here would let me in, and keep me for my entire stay. I looked doubtful but continued up the walkway after paying the driver. I knocked on the screen door and waited. A white little girl came to the door.

“Hi. Um…is Isaac home?” I asked her and she smiled and then turned away and ran back into the house. I raised an eyebrow and was about to knock again but a man came into my view at the doorway.

“Who are you?” He asked immediately and I could tell there was no room for discussion with him.

“I’m Wesley Gunn, I was sent here by Rick to meet up with Isaac,” I told him and he smiled briefly.

“You know the drill,” he told me and I smiled at that one. I opened the screen door and crossed the threshold. He engulfed me into a hug the minute I came into the house, uninvited. “Yeah, Rick called and said that his nephew of sorts was coming out to LA on big business and needed a place to crash that wouldn’t ask questions about anything. This is the place,” Isaac answered and I smiled slightly, gratefully.

“Thanks Isaac, I really appreciate you putting me up and such,” I told him honestly.

“Not a problem Wes,” he answered.

“It’s Wesley, I don’t go by Wes,” I corrected him softly and he nodded briefly.

“I’ll show you to your ‘room’. Unfortunately we don’t exactly have the space or means to put you up anywhere better than the couch, but it is a nice couch,” Isaac explained to me.

“The couch is fantastic. I would have slept standing up in a closet if I had to, the couch is great,” I answered honestly. Isaac showed me to my couch and I headed to bed.
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