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Trapped

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“Son of a - !” Angel growled as he threw himself at the locked door for the third time in as many minutes. His shoulder collided with the door but he bounced harmlessly off it. He let out a long, irritated “ugh”, threw his hands up and stormed away from the door. There wasn’t much room for walking around and in only a couple of long strides, he was looming over Wesley, who’d been near-silent since they’d been trapped in here. He had his knees curled up to his chest and his head bowed so his face was hidden from view.

He flinched as Angel’s shadow hit him.

Angel watched him with sympathetic eyes. He’d never seen Wes give up so easily, never seen him look so small outside of a hospital bed. The urge to hold him close and destroy every wall which kept them there was almost impossible to ignore.

“Wes,” he called softly as he slid down the wall next to Wes and lifted his knees up in a looser version of Wesley’s stance. He shifted a little closer so that his shoulder was touching Wes, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. That he was an adult, that he had no reason to be afraid.

But when Wes’s head shot up and his eyes met Angel’s, he looked even more frightened than Angel had expected. His eyes were wide and filled with unshed tears, his lower lip quaking as panic and misery took over.

“Wes?”

Wesley’s face crumbled. He folded forwards, buried his hands in his hair and started to rock back and forth. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I swear I won’t do it again. Please let me out,” he choked between heaving breaths. His entire body was shaking with the force of his sobs, or maybe it was fear making him shake like that. Whatever it was, Angel wanted it to stop. He wanted to be sick seeing Wes like that.

Carefully like he was dealing with a frightened child and not one of the most intelligent men he’d ever met, Angel wrapped an arm around Wes’s shoulders and dragged him closer, using his free hand to hold him there. “You’re not with your father, Wes. You’re with me and I promise that you haven’t done anything wrong. We just…the damn door fell shut and locked us in. Cordy or Gunn will come for us. You know that, don’t you? You know that they’d never leave us in here,” he said in his softest voice, trying not to flinch at all the wet sniffs and weak sobs coming from Wesley. But at least his breathing had calmed a little, even if he was still lost in his fear.

“Angel?”

Angel picked up his head. “Cordy?” he called back. “Cordy! We’re in the damn closet, open the door!”

“You? Really, you got trapped by a closet?”

He sighed. “Just open the door, will you?” He hesitated. “Wes is in here too.” A moment later he heard her fighting with the lock. As the door swung open, Angel offered Wes a soft smile. “See? I told you she’d come.”