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A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.
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June 2, L.A.
Jim called Simon the minute they got to the hotel room. Simon was going to have a fit, but he needed to know.
"Simon, I'm going to need some personal time."
"Say that again? You're breaking up." Simon said, his tone surprised. Jim didn't blame him. Normally, Jim had to be forced at gunpoint (ok, not quite, but close enough) to take time off even when he was deathly sick. Taking time off when he wasn't was completely unheard of.
"You heard me the first time, Simon." Jim said, fighting the laugh that wanted out.
"Did Blair slip you something, Jim?" Simon sounded both amused and a bit concerned.
"Probably, but it wouldn't have been enough to pull this." Jim said. Blair was, after all, forever trying to slip health food and supplements into Jim's diet, against Jim's protests.
"Got a lead on the perp, then?"
"No." Jim braced himself for the explosion he knew was coming, arm tensed to yank the phone away from his ear when (not if, when) Simon yelled. "He's my kid."
There was a long, pained silence on the other end of the phone. Jim could hear the never-ending racket that was the Major Crimes unit at the station, a melange of typing, talking, and movement.
"Say that again." Simon demanded, voice tense and almost angry.
"Kid's name is Xander. His mother showed up a couple hours ago. She recognized me. I recognized her. Turns out, the kid is mine." Another pained silence. Jim mentally cringed, waiting for the explosion. He wasn't disappointed. There was the slam of Simon's office door, and then.
"Are you out of your fucking mind, Jim?" Simon bellowed. Jim yanked the phone away from his ear before the first word was fully out of Simon's mouth. "Just because some floozy on the take says a kid is yours ... "
"She wasn't lying, Simon." Jim said. He could hear Simon's teeth grinding over the phone, irritation at being interrupted and at the cloaked reference to Jim's abilities, that Simon was still coming to terms with. "And even if she is ... they've walked away from him. Left him here 'cause he's 'nothing but trouble' and they don't have time in their busy day to deal with him." And if Jim's tone got any more disgusted and sarcastic, it'd be a miracle. "I get the feeling they weren't even going to pay the medical bill, Simon. The kid's going to need weeks, probably months, of therapy to get back in shape, and it's going to be several more days before he can even manage to feed himself because his arms are so messed up." He wished he could tell Simon about the hyena, but that ... wasn't the wisest idea. He'd probably have a coronary for real. Simon had accepted that Jim's enhanced senses existed, but he was still adapting to the knowledge, and had no idea whatever about spirit animals or anything of that ilk.
There was a long, put-upon sigh from Simon. "Dammit, Jim. You really need to stop adopting strays." Some measure of humor returned to his voice.
Jim snorted. "Blair wasn't a stray." He pointed out.
"Yeah, you keep trying to tell me that. This is me believing you." Simon said, now almost laughing. Given that Blair's week to find a new apartment after his warehouse apartment blew up had ended over a year ago, he had reason to be so amused. "I'll give you the time, but dammit, Jim, be careful, all right?"
"You too, Simon, and thanks." Jim hung up, then glanced over at Blair. "I'm going to need to head back to Cascade tomorrow, Blair. Get the loft ready. We're going to have to move, but there's not time to actually move before he gets released. Takes more than a couple days."
"Especially with you and your color coding." Blair teased gently. He'd long since figured out that Jim's anal-retentive streak was his way of compensating for the uncontrollable insanity that was his senses. There was also no way Jim would let a bunch of professional movers come in and pack the loft up, for the same reason, so it was going to be up to them. "You going to be ok on your own?" Jim still had a lot of problems with zoning and spiking, and this would be the first time they'd be away from each other for more than a day since Blair had moved in.
"Yeah, I should be." Jim told him. "Not like I'm going to be tracking perps or anything, so I won't be pushing thing. And it won't take all that long. Get there, clean the place up, clear the living room out, check for any larger apartments to move to, then back."
Blair nodded even as Jim grabbed the phone again to call the airport and see what flights were available.
June 2, Hospital
Xander watched Jim and Blair leave, trying not to mentally freak out. Hyena. Jessica, Tony, dad. HYENA. Gah. No. Hyenas bad. Very bad. Very very bad. And he really wasn't wanting to think about it. Any of it. But he couldn't exactly stop thinking about it. Dad. Hyena. Dad. HYENA! Xander gave his head a sharp shake, annoyed at the nearly hysterical circling thoughts, and glanced over at Willow, searching for and finding an escape from his thoughts.
"So Wills, what really happened, now that the amazing Xander-saving duo are gone?" He asked.
Willow gave him a wide-eyed look. "Xander ... you just ... your dad ... "
"Not thinking about that. Totally not. So I'm wanting to know what all else I missed while I was asleep." He'd freak and flip out ... oh, who was he kidding. "Jesus. He's really not my dad. I mean, all that time and ... Crap. What if he's worse than Tony?"
Willow shook her head, wishing she could hug Xander to comfort him, but that so wasn't an option for a while yet, not as banged up as Xander was. "I don't think he is. You should have seen him, Xander. I think he wanted to punch your mom in the face for the stuff she was saying, and I kinda wanted to help him. She was being way totally over the line in mean."
"I was afraid of that. What'd she say?" Xander asked, looking torn between wanting to know and not wanting to know. At least it was distracting him.
Willow's eyes got big, and then she narrowed them. "Sneaky, mister! Very sneaky. We are not talking about missed-out-on things. We are talking about dads and how to deal with them!"
Xander pouted a bit at having got caught. "Not at my best to plot and plan, Wills. Brain's more than a bit fuzzy. And I probably need to get them to switch me to something else because I really don't need a trip down bad-memory lane and oh crap." If he could have clapped a hand over his mouth, he would have. Damn the pain meds he was on, giving him verbal diarrhea. Willow and Buffy were not supposed to find out he remembered, damnit, and Willow would not let that comment pass.
"Bad memory ... Xan?" Willow asked, eyes wide. "I mean, we told you some of ... but you ... you remember?"
Xander looked deeply pained for a moment, then closed his eyes and pushed his head into his pillow in frustration. "Fuck. Really need off the meds. Yes, I remember. Everything. But so help me, Willow, you tell Buffy, and I ... well, I don't know what I'll do but I'll figure something out and you won't like it, missy!" Somehow, the threat lacked any perceptible danger, what with him flat on his back in bed.
"But ... why didn't you tell us you remembered?" Willow asked, lip wobbling.
"Because I wish I didn't? Because I did some really unforgivable things and I thought it'd be easier for you guys to forget about it if you thought I didn't remember? Because I hate myself for having hurt you and Buffy? Because it rates right behind losing Jesse as 'crappiest day of my life'? Pick a reason, Wills, and it's probably on my list." Xander said, eyes still closed.
Willow's eyes had gotten very wide, and she reached over and put a hand on his. "Oh, Xander. Sometimes, you really are silly. It wasn't you! We know that! We knew that! There was, is nothing to forgive, you big dork. And yeah, hurting and scaring us can't be fun for you to remember but that doesn't mean you have to carry it alone, mister! We're best friends, aren't we? Best friends tell each other things!" She scolded. Xander finally opened his eyes and let out a half-amused snort. From the look in her eye, she dearly wanted to swat him for being such a dunce, but didn't dare because he was already hurting.
It was oddly comforting to get a Willow-scold, even if he didn't really believe her, not in his heart of hearts. Xander would probably always hate himself more than a little for that mess, always think he could have, should have fought harder, stopped himself. Not gone into the hyena house in the first place. Something, anything other than being the pathetic loser who hurt his best friend and came frighteningly close to raping his other friend. Gah. "Still. Don't need to be seeing hyenas everywhere. Very wiggy." He finally said.
Willow nodded. "Yeah. Especially since you got demon-napped, you know? They could have done something. We ought to tell Giles when he gets back, so he can check things out."
That made sense to Xander, even as he shuddered in horror at the thought of the demons 'doing something' while he'd been knocked out. Wiggins-ville, that. "Yeah. It'll set my mind at ease, anyway. I really, really, really don't need or want to be hyena boy again. Like, ever. Ever ever."
Willow agreed with that wholeheartedly. She changed the subject a bit, getting it off the hyena, even though the only other subject she could think of was ... not all that happy either. "He's planning on taking you to Cascade." She said quietly.
Xander sighed. "It's probably for the best for right now, Wills. You know Jessica and Tony won't lift a finger to help me, and I'm going to be in rough shape for a while. On top of that ... I'll be easy pickings for the nightlife for quite a while. Cascade's got to be safer, if Jim's on the level. I'll work on figuring a way back to the 'dale after I heal up, I promise. I'm not about to leave you'n Buffy in the lurch." Then he grinned. "And hey, maybe Jim can show me a thing or two in the meantime, you know? So I'm not quite so pathetic on patrol."
Willow scowled. "Hey, mister! You're not pathetic, so stop with the thinking you are!" She really wished he would. She knew why he thought he was such a pathetic loser ... the reasons were named Jessica and Tony ... but he honestly wasn't pathetic in any way, shape, or form.
Xander snorted. "Right, I'm not pathetic. You run circles around me at school, I'm of more use as helpless bait than as a fighter when it comes to the nightlife ... "
Willow shook a finger at him. "You just stop right there, mister. So you're not a genius or ... or Chuck Norris." Xander snickered at that. "Unless you're forgetting mister, you're in the same classes I am, and you manage passing grades. You think all of those classes are normal ones?" Willow'd been bright enough that her parents had been offered the option to let her skip a grade two years ago, but Willow had point-blank refused to leave Xander behind. The compromise solution had been for Willow to go into some advanced classes in the areas she did best at ... and she'd dragged Xander along with her. He didn't get A's in those classes, to be sure, but he still managed passing grades, so he was brighter than he realized. "And it takes longer than a year to get good at fighting. Neither of us had a reason to learn, before now. You'll get there."
Xander blinked at Willow, stunned at her revelation. "Wait a minute, you mean I've been in advanced classes ... how long has that been going on?"
"Since last school year. I was doing well enough that they thought I could use the challenge, and I picked the classes I knew you did best in, and conned them into letting you sign up for them too." Ok, so it wasn't the whole truth, but if Xander found out she'd turned down the opportunity to skip a grade in the name of staying with her best friends, he'd never forgive himself, and that was the last thing he needed right now. Or ever.
Xander went to say something, but a massive yawn surprised him. He sighed. "Gonna finish this later, Wills. I'm about to conk out again."