WORKING CHAOS
"Wesley Wyndham-Price," a voice hissed out of the shadows.
The youth turned, convulsively staring at the thin man smirking seductively at him. "What do you w-want?" he gulped.
The man bared his teeth in what was meant to be a smile. Wesley wondered whether that was what a wolf looked like to a frightened rabbit. And so he straightened to all of his six feet two inches and stared the man down.
Ethan Rayne decided he didn't like this boy, but with three vampires in the close vicinity and a Watcher-in-training on the loose (he took the liberty of branding Wesley a silly git who wouldn't know which end of the stake went where) the mystic was prepared to save his sorry arse for a price.
"Do you realize that there are three vampires in this area? And that all of them are searching for you?" Ethan asked quietly, circling closer.
It was Wesley's turn to look wolfish. "I've heard worse, luv. Run along now. I'm not in the mood to play."
Ethan raised his eyebrows. "Pretty cocky for a Watcher, aren't you? Didn't know there were any like you left in that mindless lot of wankers."
"You mean it's not possible for me to pull a Rupert Giles?" Wesley laughed derisively, using the whispered name of Council foreboding.
The twenty year old was not prepared for the fist that smashed into his mouth, cutting his lip and drawing blood. He stumbled backwards, more surprised than pained. The pain would come later.
Ethan closed the distance between them with a nonchalant grace; but Wesley was well aware of the killing light in his eyes. "What's wrong with being like Ripper? Oh, that's right! He's special! And you. are just the second son of an old English family with trace hints of nobility in your ancestry."
Wesley smirked and waved a hand at Ethan, covering the man in blue flame. Just as indifferently, Ethan put them out and sent a swarm of insects over the boy. It took Wesley a while to remember how to get rid of that illusion, but he managed it in a fairly decent way. Ethan was impressed. Very few Watchers were ever acquainted with magic in that way.
"Very good," he commended him, Wesley shrugging one thin shoulder in pride. "So you'll have no problems killing three vampires on your own, I take it?"
He stepped back into the shadows and watched Wesley whirl frantically round in time to see the vampires rush at him. The young Watcher pulled a stake from his coat and dusted the first one with relative ease, more because the vampire had expected him to run and not fight. The second one was a near thing and the third. well that was long drawn out battle, which ended with a lucky kill just before his head was to be ripped off.
"Clumsy, Wesley," Ethan yawned, coming back, "Very clumsy; but still effective. Now if you had been Ripper, you'd have liked it."
"Well, I'm not Ripper," Wesley said flatly, rubbing absently at the pooling blood on his shirt. "And why am I bleeding?"
"Because that last vampire just clawed you in the stomach," Ethan said negligently, watching silently as the youth crumpled in shock.
A shake of his head and he hoisted him up, wrapping his arm around the thin waist as he dragged him to his waiting car. He deposited the unconscious body in the back seat and went back to the glade for the remaining things he'd seen there. A backpack and a few odds and ends and Ethan drove him away.
"There's sunshine somewhere," Wesley mused the next morning as he blinked dreamily at the window.
"Yes," a snide voice spoke up, "It's called morning, ducks."
Wesley bounded up and fell back groaning, gnawing frantically at his lips to keep from screaming. His stomach felt like it had ripped open. He pulled back the blankets and peeled back the bandages. Great, his stomach had been ripped open. He quickly assessed the damage. It was only the skin; internal organs were fine.
Then he did a double take, carefully propelling himself to sit up. "Where the hell have you brought me?" he asked, "And why the fuck have you brought me anyplace anyway?"
Ethan sighed. "So many questions, so little time. Let me see; which part of last night do you not remember?"
"The part where you obviously moved me from my previous place of residence," Wesley griped. 'It took me quite a while to find that clearing; I'll have you know. And I had to fight for it too."
"I'm sure you were magnificent," Ethan said, bored, "But you could not have stayed there unless you wanted to bleed to death. And as a run-away Watcher, I could not let that happen."
Wesley threw a sharp look at him. "How do you fucking know so much about me? Who the hell are you?"
"Like I said, so many questions! Well, dearest, my name is Ethan Rayne and I know you because Ripper very kindly gave me your file in order to track you down."
"What?" Wesley was really astonished here. "Why would the great Rupert Giles bother with a nobody like me?"
Ethan looked at the sarcastic youth, a thoughtful look in his dark eyes. "I do recall hitting you for insulting Ripper last night. I would not like to have to repeat the performance. My hands are rather necessary for my line of work."
"Ethan Rayne," Wesley spat out, "Yes, Giles' little indiscretion. The friend who turned him from a bright future to what he is now- a disgrace to the entire Council!"
The slim hand backhanded him hard. Ethan straddled his body, holding his head to stare into his eyes. "It's your Council that's the fucking the disgrace, you ponce! And be thankful Ripper no longer exists. Five years ago and he still might have cut your tongue out for that."
"Five years ago and I would not have said it," Wesley snapped back, fire in his eyes.
Ethan looked at him, leaning back on his heels and smiling unpleasantly. "Regular little fire cracker, aren't you? No wonder Ripper got landed with the job of searching for you; you're almost him."
"I. Am. Not. Ripper," Wesley ground out, hands gripping the front of Ethan's sweater. "Ripper is fucking dead, anyway! You hear me? Dead!"
Ethan laughed. "So that's what this is? Jealously? Such a small man as you are! So envious of dear Rupert that you'll do anything to prove you're better. It's actually quite funny, considering you've never even met the man."
A stream of bad language flowed out of Wesley's mouth, the Watcher-in- training so angry that he didn't even realize he was yelling until his voice went hoarse. Ethan merely sat back and enjoyed the show. Finally Wesley was forced to collapse exhausted back on the bed, his head aching and tears of pain and rage pricking behind his eyelids.
Ethan looked him over and peeled the soaking bandages off non-too gently. Wesley sucked in a breath but otherwise managed to stay quiet as expert fingers cleaned the wound and redressed it.
Then the mystic got off him long enough to get two pills and a glass of water from the table below the window. He handed them to Wesley who looked suspiciously at them.
"Go on, you silly child," Ethan grumbled, "It's only a painkiller."
Wesley took it.
". laced with some of my own produce," Ethan finished self satisfied.
The Watcher-in-training sank back as his mind began to fly out of his body. Even his little cocaine habit never felt this. unnerving. His hands were lying somewhere in the far distance and as for the rest of him, he wasn't even sure his body existed.
"Is this what being dead is like?" he asked, pupils dilated with his own visions.
Ethan smiled, a wolfish grin of knowing. Then the Son of Chaos sat on the bed next to him, positioned his fingers over his eyes and started.
Screams and chaos and monsters leapt through Wesley's brain as he fought down the rising panic, fighting against the bonds that kept him in place. Hands were holding him down; he couldn't move and the magic was through him, killing him in new and savage ways.
Eyes shuttered, Ethan turned to the three men holding the struggling twenty year old down on the hospital bed. "It's black magic," he said confidently.
His companion turned with a grim face, old eyes looking through the innocent charade. "And you don't know how this happened?"
Ethan shrugged. "I found him like that."
The old man with the military bearing huffed through his impressive moustache. "When I told Giles to find him I didn't know he was planning to ask you to bring him back a broken wreck! The boy might well go mad!"
"He'll survive," Ethan said indifferently, his fists held tightly to his sides. "And Giles did not call me. I found the boy. Which is more than I may say for your Watchers. They were searching in the most ridiculous places."
"Well, yes! What else can you expect from such a bunch of ninny-hammers? But Wyndham-Pryce had such potential. And now look at him. a gibbering idiot," he finished, disgusted as the young man was strapped down to his bed. "Giles had better be thankful I'm not one of those old ladies in the Administration. As it is he'll be severely reprimanded for this."
"I wouldn't try that if I were you," the soft voice spoke up from beside him, cold warning in every syllable, "Rip- Giles knows nothing about this."
"No, I think I may say I know Ripper. Another one with fine potential; had the chance to be great. Now what hope has he to get to the Slayer? This running away business is much too frequent for my taste."
"Be that as it may, it is none of my concern any more," Ethan Rayne yawned, "In fact, I'm heartily sick of the lot of you. But I will say one thing- I think you will find that dear Wesley will be- how shall I put this- easier to handle? A veritable slave to the Council," Ethan said, strolling away as the old man's face began to darken at the realization of what the mystic had done.
"You- you." the sputtering words were not lost on the man as he turned and gave his signature smirk.
"Yes. My revenge. You broke Ripper to make him a sniveling servant of your precious Council. Now. let's say I saved you the trouble with that one. You should never have ruined my best friend, you know," Ethan said genially as he walked away.
Giles was later hauled up before a tribunal on the charge that he had conspired with Ethan Rayne to cause almost irreparable damage to an unnamed Watcher-in-training. Wesley sat at the back of the open hearing and watched.
Ethan was to find that Wesley had had his own revenge as well. The young man, broken and spiritless after clawing his way back from certain insanity, had incriminated Giles in his illness. Giles summoned Ethan only to promise him certain death if he ever saw him again.
"Wesley Wyndham-Price," a voice hissed out of the shadows.
The youth turned, convulsively staring at the thin man smirking seductively at him. "What do you w-want?" he gulped.
The man bared his teeth in what was meant to be a smile. Wesley wondered whether that was what a wolf looked like to a frightened rabbit. And so he straightened to all of his six feet two inches and stared the man down.
Ethan Rayne decided he didn't like this boy, but with three vampires in the close vicinity and a Watcher-in-training on the loose (he took the liberty of branding Wesley a silly git who wouldn't know which end of the stake went where) the mystic was prepared to save his sorry arse for a price.
"Do you realize that there are three vampires in this area? And that all of them are searching for you?" Ethan asked quietly, circling closer.
It was Wesley's turn to look wolfish. "I've heard worse, luv. Run along now. I'm not in the mood to play."
Ethan raised his eyebrows. "Pretty cocky for a Watcher, aren't you? Didn't know there were any like you left in that mindless lot of wankers."
"You mean it's not possible for me to pull a Rupert Giles?" Wesley laughed derisively, using the whispered name of Council foreboding.
The twenty year old was not prepared for the fist that smashed into his mouth, cutting his lip and drawing blood. He stumbled backwards, more surprised than pained. The pain would come later.
Ethan closed the distance between them with a nonchalant grace; but Wesley was well aware of the killing light in his eyes. "What's wrong with being like Ripper? Oh, that's right! He's special! And you. are just the second son of an old English family with trace hints of nobility in your ancestry."
Wesley smirked and waved a hand at Ethan, covering the man in blue flame. Just as indifferently, Ethan put them out and sent a swarm of insects over the boy. It took Wesley a while to remember how to get rid of that illusion, but he managed it in a fairly decent way. Ethan was impressed. Very few Watchers were ever acquainted with magic in that way.
"Very good," he commended him, Wesley shrugging one thin shoulder in pride. "So you'll have no problems killing three vampires on your own, I take it?"
He stepped back into the shadows and watched Wesley whirl frantically round in time to see the vampires rush at him. The young Watcher pulled a stake from his coat and dusted the first one with relative ease, more because the vampire had expected him to run and not fight. The second one was a near thing and the third. well that was long drawn out battle, which ended with a lucky kill just before his head was to be ripped off.
"Clumsy, Wesley," Ethan yawned, coming back, "Very clumsy; but still effective. Now if you had been Ripper, you'd have liked it."
"Well, I'm not Ripper," Wesley said flatly, rubbing absently at the pooling blood on his shirt. "And why am I bleeding?"
"Because that last vampire just clawed you in the stomach," Ethan said negligently, watching silently as the youth crumpled in shock.
A shake of his head and he hoisted him up, wrapping his arm around the thin waist as he dragged him to his waiting car. He deposited the unconscious body in the back seat and went back to the glade for the remaining things he'd seen there. A backpack and a few odds and ends and Ethan drove him away.
"There's sunshine somewhere," Wesley mused the next morning as he blinked dreamily at the window.
"Yes," a snide voice spoke up, "It's called morning, ducks."
Wesley bounded up and fell back groaning, gnawing frantically at his lips to keep from screaming. His stomach felt like it had ripped open. He pulled back the blankets and peeled back the bandages. Great, his stomach had been ripped open. He quickly assessed the damage. It was only the skin; internal organs were fine.
Then he did a double take, carefully propelling himself to sit up. "Where the hell have you brought me?" he asked, "And why the fuck have you brought me anyplace anyway?"
Ethan sighed. "So many questions, so little time. Let me see; which part of last night do you not remember?"
"The part where you obviously moved me from my previous place of residence," Wesley griped. 'It took me quite a while to find that clearing; I'll have you know. And I had to fight for it too."
"I'm sure you were magnificent," Ethan said, bored, "But you could not have stayed there unless you wanted to bleed to death. And as a run-away Watcher, I could not let that happen."
Wesley threw a sharp look at him. "How do you fucking know so much about me? Who the hell are you?"
"Like I said, so many questions! Well, dearest, my name is Ethan Rayne and I know you because Ripper very kindly gave me your file in order to track you down."
"What?" Wesley was really astonished here. "Why would the great Rupert Giles bother with a nobody like me?"
Ethan looked at the sarcastic youth, a thoughtful look in his dark eyes. "I do recall hitting you for insulting Ripper last night. I would not like to have to repeat the performance. My hands are rather necessary for my line of work."
"Ethan Rayne," Wesley spat out, "Yes, Giles' little indiscretion. The friend who turned him from a bright future to what he is now- a disgrace to the entire Council!"
The slim hand backhanded him hard. Ethan straddled his body, holding his head to stare into his eyes. "It's your Council that's the fucking the disgrace, you ponce! And be thankful Ripper no longer exists. Five years ago and he still might have cut your tongue out for that."
"Five years ago and I would not have said it," Wesley snapped back, fire in his eyes.
Ethan looked at him, leaning back on his heels and smiling unpleasantly. "Regular little fire cracker, aren't you? No wonder Ripper got landed with the job of searching for you; you're almost him."
"I. Am. Not. Ripper," Wesley ground out, hands gripping the front of Ethan's sweater. "Ripper is fucking dead, anyway! You hear me? Dead!"
Ethan laughed. "So that's what this is? Jealously? Such a small man as you are! So envious of dear Rupert that you'll do anything to prove you're better. It's actually quite funny, considering you've never even met the man."
A stream of bad language flowed out of Wesley's mouth, the Watcher-in- training so angry that he didn't even realize he was yelling until his voice went hoarse. Ethan merely sat back and enjoyed the show. Finally Wesley was forced to collapse exhausted back on the bed, his head aching and tears of pain and rage pricking behind his eyelids.
Ethan looked him over and peeled the soaking bandages off non-too gently. Wesley sucked in a breath but otherwise managed to stay quiet as expert fingers cleaned the wound and redressed it.
Then the mystic got off him long enough to get two pills and a glass of water from the table below the window. He handed them to Wesley who looked suspiciously at them.
"Go on, you silly child," Ethan grumbled, "It's only a painkiller."
Wesley took it.
". laced with some of my own produce," Ethan finished self satisfied.
The Watcher-in-training sank back as his mind began to fly out of his body. Even his little cocaine habit never felt this. unnerving. His hands were lying somewhere in the far distance and as for the rest of him, he wasn't even sure his body existed.
"Is this what being dead is like?" he asked, pupils dilated with his own visions.
Ethan smiled, a wolfish grin of knowing. Then the Son of Chaos sat on the bed next to him, positioned his fingers over his eyes and started.
Screams and chaos and monsters leapt through Wesley's brain as he fought down the rising panic, fighting against the bonds that kept him in place. Hands were holding him down; he couldn't move and the magic was through him, killing him in new and savage ways.
Eyes shuttered, Ethan turned to the three men holding the struggling twenty year old down on the hospital bed. "It's black magic," he said confidently.
His companion turned with a grim face, old eyes looking through the innocent charade. "And you don't know how this happened?"
Ethan shrugged. "I found him like that."
The old man with the military bearing huffed through his impressive moustache. "When I told Giles to find him I didn't know he was planning to ask you to bring him back a broken wreck! The boy might well go mad!"
"He'll survive," Ethan said indifferently, his fists held tightly to his sides. "And Giles did not call me. I found the boy. Which is more than I may say for your Watchers. They were searching in the most ridiculous places."
"Well, yes! What else can you expect from such a bunch of ninny-hammers? But Wyndham-Pryce had such potential. And now look at him. a gibbering idiot," he finished, disgusted as the young man was strapped down to his bed. "Giles had better be thankful I'm not one of those old ladies in the Administration. As it is he'll be severely reprimanded for this."
"I wouldn't try that if I were you," the soft voice spoke up from beside him, cold warning in every syllable, "Rip- Giles knows nothing about this."
"No, I think I may say I know Ripper. Another one with fine potential; had the chance to be great. Now what hope has he to get to the Slayer? This running away business is much too frequent for my taste."
"Be that as it may, it is none of my concern any more," Ethan Rayne yawned, "In fact, I'm heartily sick of the lot of you. But I will say one thing- I think you will find that dear Wesley will be- how shall I put this- easier to handle? A veritable slave to the Council," Ethan said, strolling away as the old man's face began to darken at the realization of what the mystic had done.
"You- you." the sputtering words were not lost on the man as he turned and gave his signature smirk.
"Yes. My revenge. You broke Ripper to make him a sniveling servant of your precious Council. Now. let's say I saved you the trouble with that one. You should never have ruined my best friend, you know," Ethan said genially as he walked away.
Giles was later hauled up before a tribunal on the charge that he had conspired with Ethan Rayne to cause almost irreparable damage to an unnamed Watcher-in-training. Wesley sat at the back of the open hearing and watched.
Ethan was to find that Wesley had had his own revenge as well. The young man, broken and spiritless after clawing his way back from certain insanity, had incriminated Giles in his illness. Giles summoned Ethan only to promise him certain death if he ever saw him again.