Angel watched as Wes blinked once, the universal signal for people who can't talk for 'yes.' Blink once for yes, twice for no.
"Good." Angel snatched the pillow from under Wes's head and pushed it down onto his face. He had so many things running through his head at the moment. How Wesley was going to pay for what had happened to his son. How Angel would never forgive him. There were many, many things that Angel wanted to say. Instead, he kept silent. He didn't want anyone running in and stopping him from this.
Wesley struggled weakly, but he was already so helpless from the blood loss than it barely took a minute or so for him to stop struggling. Once Angel was sure that he was dead, he sunk down into the chair that was beside Wes's bed. He was still holding the pillow in his hand.
It was suddenly as if Angel was hit by a brick wall of memories. Meeting Wes in the apartment in Los Angeles, with Wes all decked out in leather, trying be a 'rouge demon hunter,' and neither or nor Cordelia had the heart to tell him how ridiculous he actually looked. Seeing Wes tied up in the chair while Faith held the knife to his neck, and tasting the fear in the back of his throat that his friend might die. Seeing Wes in the hospital after the office blew up. Angel looking at him through the window briefly after he got shot. Wes begrudgingly forgiving him for firing all of them. Angel seeing him lead the people of Pylea in an uprising. More and more memories were popping up.
Oh God, what had he done? He had killed one of his closest friends! He had made a terrible mistake. He shouldn't have done this. It was too rash. Wesley couldn't have meant any harm to Connor. Angel knew how much he loved Connor. He loved Connor almost as much as Angel does. Now there was only one way to fix this.
It didn't take much for Angel to drain the rest of the blood from Wes. The demon inside of him howled for more, but there really wasn't much to take. It was still warm, so that gave Angel a little hope that this might work.
Angel tore his wrist open with his teeth, opened Wes's mouth, and pressed his bleeding wrist to his lips. "Come on, Wes," he said, feeling the tears start to fall down his face. "Please drink. I'll do anything for you if you'll just drink this."
After a few moments of nothing, he started to feel a gentle pull at his wrist. He wiped his eyes with his free hand and saw Wes's eyes flutter. Wes let out a soft moan.
"Yes, that's good. Keep drinking it, Wes. Everything's going to be ok." To hell with the consequences: Angel couldn't handle losing both his son and his friend in one night. Angel reached out to stroke his friend's hair. He didn't even register the manic tinge in his voice as he continued to talk to Wes while Wes continued to drink. "Everything's going to be ok. We'll find Connor together and we'll fix everything. Everything's going to be alright."