Angel s03e19 Episode Script

ANGEL: Previously: We're back.
What happened? GUNN: Wes thought Angel-- FRED: Was gonna kill Connor.
HOST: When he left with that child, he wasn't planning on coming back.
ANGEL: The portal led to Quor-toth.
HOST: There're no portals to Quor-toth.
Going to Quor-toth would require dark magics.
We don't have the resources to conjure that dark power.
ANGEL: I think we do.
Lilah, give him anything he wants.
HOST: You're messing with primordial powers of darkness here.
-Where is he? LINWOOD: You don't want to do this.
Lilah! ANGEL: They found Wesley? FRED: He's not out of the woods yet.
Your being here can help.
ANGEL: You took my son! I'll never forgive you! CORDELIA: I'm so sorry.
Angel, you and I have fought side by side on more than one occasion.
Fellow warriors, shoulder to shoulder.
By now, my counsel must assuredly hold weight.
-So I beseech you to heed my words.
-Okay.
Pomegranate Mist is the wrong color for this room.
What? We thought-- Actually, I thought, and Groo agreed.
.
.
.
.
.
that since you have to repaint the room anyway.
.
.
.
.
.
maybe you'd like a change, for a change.
-Groo agreed? -Don't mock.
He has good color sense.
Sunburst Splendor is a hue more worthy of a champion.
Or perhaps this unique one called "Pur-plah.
" Purple.
Yet you have no problems pronouncing "pomegranate.
" -It was my mother's name.
ANGEL: What are the odds.
-Hang on.
Where you going with that? -Tossing it.
-It's an antique.
-It's charcoal.
We're not throwing it out.
The wall color stays too.
Look, guys, I really appreciate everybody's help.
.
.
.
.
.
but I just want everything back to the way it was.
Or close to it.
CORDELIA: Not gonna be, you know.
Unless we pay for dishonest-to-goodness contractors, those cracks will stay.
ANGEL: Let them.
CORDELIA: Sure.
Maybe we can even dump our trash here.
The old gives-the-place- character philosophy.
Guess that served you pretty well, living in rotted-out mansions and.
.
.
.
(SNOW GLOBE PLAYS MUSIC.]
I don't know why I bought this for him.
It was a whim, I guess.
Thought he'd like to look at it.
Snow.
Doesn't ever snow in Southern California.
It did once.
We shouldn't waste time fixing up my place when we have work to do.
What work? Our jobs.
The business.
We're neglecting our cases.
Angel, we don't have any cases.
We haven't had a call in over a week.
Really? Well, somebody ought to be downstairs.
.
.
.
.
.
in case a walk-in should.
.
.
walk in.
Because we get those sometimes.
Never on Sundays.
SPIVEY: Hello? Angel lnvestigations? Hey! Anybody here? Hey! Hello? Look, unless you want me to take my business elsewhere.
.
.
.
Fine.
Probably couldn't find my dog anyway.
Yes! Hi.
I hope that you weren't.
.
.
.
May I help you? What was that? I was just saying, if you're looking for Angel lnvestigations, I'm he.
Him.
Angel.
And you are? I, uh.
.
.
.
I need.
.
.
.
Don't be embarrassed.
Whatever your problems are, I'm here to listen.
-And, you know, help, of course.
-We have to go.
What? ls there something wrong? The pentagram.
Don't worry.
That's an old case.
That's done.
I'm totally here to give you my.
.
.
full attention.
The Price CORDELIA: When did we get the statue for the lobby? It's just you.
Can we get rid of this stain? It scared off a client.
I think he was a client.
He barely said two words then ran out.
Well, you know, some people can be pretty close-mouthed.
We've never talked about everything that happened while I was away.
-You know the gist of it.
-I got loads of gist.
What I don't got is the specifics.
Specifically, that five-pointed doodad decorating our lobby.
.
.
.
.
.
and the voodoo that you dood-- Did over it.
-Cordy-- -I know you don't wanna talk.
.
.
.
.
.
but don't mess with dark magics like it doesn't matter.
-It was a waste of time.
-I should know what spell it was.
There's a cosmic price for using primordial powers.
There could be repercussions.
And the one person who could help us with that isn't around anymore.
Not going there.
Just saying.
.
.
.
Run away, avoid talking about this, but you know.
.
.
.
.
.
stuff we do in the past comes back to bite us in our respective ass-i.
-What you did-- -So I wasn't thinking too clearly.
I was drunk on my own son's blood.
.
.
.
.
.
slipped into my food by Wolfram & Hart.
And my head was clouded with rage over a trusted friend stealing my child.
Damn it, Cordelia, you got me talking about this.
You probably just needed to vent.
Why didn't you call me? I didn't want to mess up your vacation.
I just thought one of us should be happy.
But I could've helped.
I could've done something.
-There was nothing you could-- -How do you know that? What makes you so sure? I've got a hotline to The fricking Powers.
I could've gotten a vision to warn us.
Plus, I've got demon in me now.
So maybe there is some untapped power.
.
.
.
.
.
that could've help find Connor before, you know, before.
.
.
.
-Who needed to vent? -I should've been here for you.
You were.
I mean, you are.
You're always-- Look, I'm just trying to move on like you told me to.
I'm just trying not to just be so into my problems, into my head.
Just focus on something else for a while, you know? Sure.
Yeah, I get that.
But next time, you call me.
All right.
There is something you can do for me.
Find me a case to work on.
Please.
(SPIVEY GULPS.]
More.
Like the last ones.
Not to be rude, but you've been here six hours.
-And, like, 1 00 peach smoothies.
MANAGER: You're not well, sir.
You haven't taken a whiz yet.
-Please.
-We don't take credit cards.
-Water! Water, then! -Leave, or I'll call the police.
-We're thirsty! KID: Okay.
GAVIN: I hear congratulations are in order.
Gavin.
What a pleasant surprise.
People are saying you've made great strides forward with Angel.
-What are you talking about? -You don't know? He tried to kill one of his people at a hospital.
Gav, you're quick.
Maybe your next news flash.
.
.
.
.
.
will involve that newfangled invention called fire.
Despite our differences, when a coworker pats you on the back-- I check for the knife.
Angel tried to kill a human.
.
.
.
.
.
bringing him one step closer to his dark side and to us.
Dark side, shmark side.
Remember a year ago? -Wine cellar? Slaughter? -They were lawyers.
-And you are.
.
.
? -A realist.
Angel tried to smother a friend.
We're making progress.
We could make more.
Get them together again, see what happens.
Might even make up for you losing that baby.
Nice try.
But unlike you, I'm ahead of the game.
Angel tried to kill his friend, kidnapped and tortured Linwood.
.
.
.
.
.
and performed forbidden magics.
All on my watch.
-Congratulations, Lilah.
-Thanks, Gavin.
-Can we stop feigning now? -Sure.
FRED: It's funny.
Sad, actually.
I keep expecting to find-- It's weird seeing Angel at that desk.
It was his when I came.
It's right that it's his again.
Yeah, but things have cooled down a little since.
.
.
.
I'm just saying maybe it's time to.
.
.
.
Look, he doesn't have to forgive Wesley.
Glad you think so 'cause, not happening.
Right, he shouldn't.
But isn't there some way.
.
.
.
.
.
to come back from this? If Wes returns with Connor.
Even then, Angel'd probably kill him on principle.
-You don't really think that.
-He took the man's son.
Probably best we never mention the guy's name again.
I give up.
Tried soaking it out, tried scrubbing it out.
No question: We've got ring around the lobby.
I say we toss in the towel and buy a big-ass throw rug.
-Who's with me? -That honor is mine, princess.
CORDELIA: Oh.
.
.
.
Groo, honey, will you do me a favor and dump out this bucket? Thanks.
FRED: Cordelia.
He's such a sweetie.
-So loyal and loving, like a puppy dog.
-Cordy.
I know, that didn't sound very good, but he is.
A puppy dog.
A sexy, well-built, go-all-night puppy dog.
-Okay, that sounded worse.
-Cor-- No.
You want me to say something to Angel about Wesley.
Sorry.
Can't.
Won't.
Why? Why "can't," "won't" you? You've known them both longer than anybody.
Angel'd listen.
But he doesn't want to, which is why I won't burden him.
Look, whatever he did, it's Wesley.
You care about him, I know.
Can you imagine his pain? How bad he's feeling? Angel's feelings are the only ones I care about.
He's my priority.
I got dosed with demon DNA for him.
I'm semi-demon, and I still don't know what that means.
The random floaty-ness and seizure-less visions are keen.
Except it's hard to tell when I'm-- Angel? -What's going on? HOST: I'll tell you what's going on.
Big brouhaha at the juice bar.
Light on the "ha-ha.
" Some guy's cracking up.
Here, key to the safe.
Take it.
Just don't hurt me.
One minute you're there, shocked-looking.
Then: -You're thrown across the room.
-Can we talk later? -I'm working.
-Look out.
He has Ebola or something.
This Ebola is a weapon forged in magic? Forged in monkey poo.
Okay, sir, you want to just put down the Super Size, or.
.
.
.
I know you.
-You do? -He came to the office today.
-Didn't mention he was a mummy.
-He's not.
He wasn't.
He's-- Philip J.
Spivey from lnglewood, according to his license.
ANGEL: Mr.
Spivey? Phil? Hi.
Remember me? We are just gonna take a walk to my office across the street.
.
.
.
.
.
and we're gonna figure out what's what.
Sound okay with you? -We're thirsty! -I'll take that as a no.
Okay, people.
Looks like we got a case.
Okay, let's get him on the couch.
My God, look at his face.
Fred, do we have any water in the fridge? FRED: Few bottles, I think.
ANGEL: We're gonna need them.
-Lip balm wouldn't hurt either.
-Angel.
"We"? -Glad you're having fun.
-No, he kept saying "we.
" Earlier, it was, "We have to go.
" Now it's, "We're thirsty.
" So he's pretentious.
We need to talk about my vision.
-It can wait.
-No, it can't.
You think The Powers beam me visions for fun? They tell me when someone's in danger.
That someone is you.
What else is new? I wanna deal with somebody else's problem.
I wanna deal with Phil of lnglewood, who came to us this morning for help.
He's who we should be concerned with.
This has nothing to do with me.
You! This is all happening because of you! This is all your fault! -My fault? -That's what the sandman said.
I was trying to help him.
What'd he say that for? He didn't.
That did.
(FRED AND CORDELIA SCREAMING.]
-Okay, that was a thing.
-A big, ugly slug thing.
-Where'd it go? GROOSALUGG: It has vanished.
Just like the glass eels of the Krag Swamps in UxenBlarg.
-Just making an observation.
-So, what was it? I don't know what it is or what it has to do with me.
Um.
.
.
.
Angel.
.
.
.
Not the hunter type.
Can't I just be moral support? CORDELIA: Hotel's shut tight.
-I don't want anyone else infected.
-This weapon will serve me better.
-Too big for our purposes.
-I've had no complaints.
-Start at the third floor.
-Make a sweep, work your way down.
-Hey.
How do we know slicing and dicing will kill Mr.
Sluggo? We don't.
Fred's gonna hit the books, see what we're dealing with.
I am? Angel, I don't even know where to begin to look.
-Start with thaumogenesis.
-Thaumo--? Creatures manifested as a byproduct of dark magic.
Oh.
-I'll stay and keep watch.
-Watch close.
This thing drank the moisture out of his body.
Let's wait to see what Fred finds before chasing it.
If we wait, it could find a way into the world.
I won't let that happen.
Let's go.
-I don't wanna hear it.
-I didn't say anything.
Let's keep it that way.
HOST: Well, was I wrong? It's my mess.
I'm cleaning it up.
What more--? -You mess with Powers of Darkness-- -There's a price to pay.
I know.
There's always a price.
The question is: ls it one worth paying? So was this? That spell I did was for nothing.
I didn't find my son.
He's gone forever.
Was it worth it? Would I do it again? ln a heartbeat because he was my son.
(CLATTERING.]
(SPLASHING.]
(YELPS.]
Angel, what are you--? (SCREECHES.]
Well, go team! Now that wasn't so-- God, I hate this.
I'm with you.
That creepy crawler was messed up.
With those little feelers sticking out of its face.
.
.
.
.
.
slithering like a worm with its slimy-- No.
I meant I hate going through these books.
Yeah, books.
That's rough.
Everything on thaumogenesis is so cryptic.
.
.
.
.
.
and full of words I've never heard of like "amulatives.
" I have to keep cross-referencing "Chaldean" with "Accadian Magics.
" -Are you listening to me? -Yeah.
Accordion music.
Go on.
Ask me to research wave-particle dualities.
.
.
.
.
.
or the Schrödinger Equation, and I'm a hellcat.
But this? Angel will just have to realize that I'm not as qualified for this as.
.
.
.
.
.
some people.
Some people aren't around anymore, so you'll have to get good at it.
What if I fail? What if I can't find anything to help? We'll manage.
Not that I don't prefer something I can punch.
.
.
.
.
.
that doesn't make that squishy noise when you kill it.
But we can handle one little slug from hell.
LILAH: "Bio-plasmic infection"? (DOOR OPENS.]
LILAH: Speaking of.
-You get the e-mail? The confidential one? The one I have to use a magic bug to open? The one that you shouldn't even know about? Must've been a glitch in the server.
So psychics say it looks like Angel's hotel has some uninvited guests.
Interesting.
Why do I care again? One word: thaumogenesis.
-The spell.
-The one you helped him perform.
Everything has repercussions.
Angel knew that going in.
I'm glad you see it that way.
Repercussions.
Poetic justice.
You have a point, or are you waxing my desk with your ass? Whatever these things are.
.
.
.
.
.
they're not too cuddly since Angel barricaded himself inside.
.
.
.
.
.
to prevent unleashing them to the populace.
So yay.
Let him reap what he's sown.
Maybe I'll get lucky and they'll rip him to.
.
.
.
Think the senior partners might be upset if he died.
.
.
.
.
.
as a result of a spell you helped him cast? -You gotta be kidding me.
-With Linwood on vacation, unreachable.
This is a dilemma.
Well, bye.
Wait.
So, what, I'm supposed to go in there and save Angel? I'm sorry.
I don't know what you're talking about.
CORDELIA: Poor Angel.
It's eating at him.
GROOSALUGG: You have another vision? -What? No.
Knowing it was the spell he performed to find Connor.
.
.
.
.
.
that made this thing we're hunting, that it caused a death.
GROOSALUGG: He's your priority.
-What? You said earlier.
Angel, his feelings were your only concern.
He was all that matters.
Oh, no, Grooey, I meant work priority.
Work.
You see, you're my other stuff priority.
You get that, right? Groo, honey.
-We can talk about this.
-Do not move.
-Get it! It's going down.
-I instructed you not to move.
-Forgive me for saving my own life.
-I wouldn't have let it harm you.
-We saw it! -You saw it? -There's more? ANGEL: Two at least.
-We should assume there's more.
HOST: Must we? -At least we have one advantage.
-They glow in the dark? That won't help unless we shut the lights-- -You're not serious.
-They're hard to kill.
I speared one.
It was strong enough to attack us and escape.
If it makes them easier to find, we do it.
-All the lights? ANGEL: Here.
Take this.
Lock yourself in the office.
We still need answers.
-Right.
-This gets funner and funner.
Glad you're enjoying yourself.
.
.
.
.
.
because somebody has to go to the basement and shut off the power.
No, no, no, no, no, no.
No.
(SQUEAKING.]
Rat.
GUNN: Oh.
Rat.
Everything okay down there? GUNN: It's a party.
Here's the icing on the cake.
(FRED GASPS.]
HOST: Where are we? ANGEL: South wing.
Haven't found a use for it yet, so we keep it closed up.
CORDELIA: Do you hear something? HOST: Sorry, all I hear.
.
.
.
.
.
is the erratic thumping of the heart in my mouth.
CORDELIA: It sounds like.
.
.
.
It almost sounds like.
.
.
.
Birds.
(CHIRPING.]
Do we even have a key for this? GUNN: Fred, it's me.
Open up.
Sorry it took so long to get back.
I looked around to make sure no slimeys were lurking.
We're good.
-How you holding up? You okay? FRED: Scared.
Very scared.
I know.
It's gonna be okay, all right? We just have to keep it together.
Watch each other's backs.
When this is over, I think you and me.
.
.
.
.
.
should go away someplace, like Cordy and Groo got to do.
Maybe Baja.
A little sun, sand.
I think we deserve it.
You have to get out of here.
That's what I'm saying.
And we will.
Soon as we kill these creatures, I'll talk to Angel.
Maybe he'll-- (GLASS SHATTERING.]
Fred? Oh, no.
We're thirsty.
CORDELIA: Where does that come from? ANGEL: Somewhere in this room.
HOST: Man, this place is one part hum, two parts dinger.
Ever think of turning it into a nightclub? Missing the life.
Sue me.
-Gunn! -We have a serious problem.
CORDELIA: Oh, no, Fred.
-We gotta get her help, fast.
-Can you hear me? -It's in her brain.
You can't reach her.
Angel? Fred.
I feel it.
Its needs.
Its thirst.
Oh, God, I'm so thirsty.
-Hang on, we'll get you to a hospital.
-No, Charles, we-- No.
It wants that.
To escape.
Spread.
You can't let it.
Let us-- It will kill.
It really doesn't like you.
-Feeling's mutual.
-That's it.
ANGEL: What are you doing? -Leaving.
ANGEL: But she said-- -I don't care.
-The thing inside her may be in charge.
ANGEL: Don't do this.
-Get out of my way.
ANGEL: Think.
How will she feel if she causes more deaths? -She? Or you? -Me? All this is happening because of you.
It's your fault.
-Messing with scary-ass mojo.
-I did what I had to do.
To get what you want.
The hell with us.
-My son-- -Is dead.
Fred's not.
-We have to stick together.
-Yeah? Where does it say that? GROOSALUGG: Here.
The sounds.
They come from under.
(SPLASHING.]
CORDELIA: Oh, my God.
We have a pool? ANGEL: Run! Move! CORDELIA: They're all over! No more running.
Too hot.
Too hot.
ANGEL: Turn on the ovens! HOST: We gonna cook them? -Cook the air.
Dry it out.
Make it uncomfortable so they won't want in.
(FRED SCREAMS.]
-That's what I call uncomfortable.
-Charles! Where's Charles? CORDELIA: What? FRED: He's gone! Meet with the shaman exterminator in 1 5.
The S.
W.
A.
T.
team in place? (DOOR OPENS.]
Good.
The cleanup crew will join you.
Now I want everybody waiting for my go.
I'm heading out now.
-What's the activity? -Cleaning out Angel's hotel.
I wanna stop this before Linwood finds out.
A little late, but okay.
Have fun.
-What did you say? -"Have fun"? LILAH: Get out.
-You said Linwood was unreachable.
-He is.
Except for the emergency cell number.
He did give it to you, right? Fine, play your little games.
I've gotta save my immortal enemy.
(GASPS.]
What? What--? I don't question your loyalty, but you sure that's what Linwood wants? Angel kidnapped and tortured him.
Linwood may have unresolved feelings since he was nearly blinded.
What did he say, Gavin? "Let them die.
Let them all die.
" Maybe the old man has guts after all.
There was the part about overstepping your bounds.
.
.
.
.
.
and paying for the unauthorized ops out of your salary.
Of course, how he can't trust you anymore and-- Right, that he'd deal with you when he got back.
I don't know what he meant by that.
But I'm not ahead of the game.
Need your help.
GROOSALUGG: There are too many to fight our way out.
ANGEL: I know.
We need water! CORDELIA: Angel! -Whoa, easy.
I wanna talk to that thing inside you.
What are you? We.
.
.
.
We're thirsty.
Work with me, Fred.
Make it answer me.
What do you want here? To live.
To live.
To drink.
And be merry.
It hurts us.
We have to get out.
(RATTLING.]
-Sounds more like they want in.
-Have to flee.
It brings pain.
-Such pain.
-"It"? What happened to "we"? -Why the pronoun switcheroo? -What are you fleeing from? The bringer of torment.
Agony.
Death.
-The Destroyer.
CORDELIA: Oh.
That is just not the name you wanna hear.
-Why is this Destroyer after you? FRED: It's not.
It's coming after you.
.
.
.
.
.
Angel.
I don't have time to get into it with you.
I don't wanna be here.
The hotel's infested with some slug thing.
We don't know what they are or how to kill them.
Well, now, that is a problem.
GUNN: There's hundreds of them.
They enter you.
.
.
.
.
.
and soak up the moisture out of you.
They drink you alive.
Why come to me? Angel will figure out a way to kill them.
That's not what I'm looking for.
I need to know how to get these slugs out of someone who's infected.
-Sorry.
-Don't give me that.
-If you could see what they do.
.
.
.
-I wish I could help.
-Wes-- -Sorry you wasted your time.
It's Fred.
We're having a drink? Did you hear me? She's dying.
I was dying.
Throat cut, life pouring out of me.
-Know why I fought to live? -I don't have time.
I wanted to live to see my friends again.
To explain to the people I loved and trusted my side of what happened.
-We know what-- -You don't know anything.
I'll help because it's Fred.
But don't come here again.
Any of you.
FRED: No.
I need more.
I need more.
Tell me where you come from.
(FRED SCREAMS.]
-Fred! -You're gonna die so horribly.
Oh, God, help me.
Lorne, take her.
Shut off the ovens and stoves.
-Why? ANGEL: Hurry! You guys get Fred to the hospital.
CORDELIA: We talked about that.
Infecting the world and all.
They can keep her hydrated until you come up with a cure.
-We're surrounded.
How do we get past? -I'll keep them occupied.
-How? -By giving them what they want.
Damsel in distress.
You know what to do.
-Angel.
-Take Fred.
Please! Now! Cordy, I told you to get out of here.
GUNN: Put my girl down.
HOST: Where--? News updates later.
Just lay her down.
GROOSALUGG: She requires a healer.
GUNN: She requires this.
Hold her.
Do it! Come here, baby, come here, come here.
Drink, drink, drink, drink.
Angel! lncoming, four o'clock! Angel.
Come on, baby, drink.
Angel, what's.
.
.
.
.
.
happening to.
.
.
.
.
.
me? Unless anyone else has something, I'll be the first to say: -What the hell was that? -Cordelia.
That was Cordelia.
GROOSALUGG: You are truly a goddess.
-Well, demoness, anyway.
-Beats horns and a tail.
-Hey, I'm standing right here.
She okay? Yeah.
I got this idea.
Alcohol.
Dehydrates the body, gets the slug out.
So I left when those things came out of the floor.
It's not like I was running out on you.
Look, someone I care about was dying.
I couldn't sit around and debate strategy.
I saw an opportunity to get some help.
I did what I had to do, and if you don't get that-- Yeah, I guess you do.
So we're good? Good? We're not good.
Did you forget we have unexpected company on the way? It goes by the initials of "the Destroyer.
" The Destroyer.
I remember the Destroyer's coming.
Yeah, we got that.
Any idea when? I think.
.
.
.
Now.
(THUNDERING.]
Hi, Dad.