WARPED REFLECTION
(Part Thirty-seven)
By Ruth Quist
Rating: T (for language and violence, same as show)
Disclaimers: This fan fiction is copyrighted (2004) by the author. No infringement on the rights of Mutant Enemy, Inc., Greenwolf Corp., Lazy Dave, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Television, Twentieth Century Fox Television, UPN or The WB, or any other legitimate holders of copyright for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, or any other characters contained therein is intended. This material is produced entirely for the entertainment of fans. No profit is made.
Important Author's Notes at bottom!
Gunn settled back at his desk, the stack of papers from his presentation in a neat pile in front of him. He steepled his fingers and looked at the papers moodily.
"I thought your boss was the broody one?" Anne stood leaning against the door. She had had showered and changed and looked like a breath of fresh air in the confines of Wolfram and Hart's stuffy atmosphere.
"Yeah, well, it's probably contagious," Gunn offered wryly, smiling in spite of his mood. "What you doing here, girl? I thought you had things to do at the shelter?"
Anne moved in and settled into a chair before answering, "I did what I could, but most of the kids are staying away. I guess the shelter's getting a rep. You know, a zombie attack here (cops no less), a demon raid there, and all of the sudden no one wants to know you."
Gunn put his arms down, the papers forgotten for the moment, "Oh man, I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do? Only right I help after the help you gave me with the DVDs."
Anne smiled in appreciation, but nodded regretfully, "No, but thanks. They'll come back. It's sad to say, but when you're the only game in town, people really don't have much choice." She looked at the paperwork in front of him and asked, "So, how did the meeting go?"
Gunn looked down, frowning, "Angel really appreciated the info. Thanks for the help. I told him about you helping."
"I wasn't looking to make brownie points," Anne said firmly. "I just want you to get those bastards." She eyed him speculatively, "However, I'm guessing you weren't that happy about the meeting. Did something go wrong?"
"No, nothin' like that," Gunn answered quickly, and, then, as she looked at him like she knew he was putting her on, he said more slowly, "I'm just tired of being compared to Wesley and losing." She looked surprised and he admitted, "It just makes me feel stupid."
She looked at him for a long moment, considering his words carefully, "I know I don't know your friends that well, but I didn't realize you were competing with Wesley. Isn't he your friend?"
"Yeah, he is," Gunn agreed. "We had this problem for a while. We were both interested in the same girl, and, then, Wesley did something that hurt Angel really bad. He kept all this important stuff secret, after telling me he'd throw me out if I ever 'compromised the safety of the group" again by keeping secrets. I got really mad at him. It was so hypocritical, you know? Angel nearly went off the deep end and things got worse and worse. I…we…well, Wesley wasn't welcome at the hotel for a long time. Angel and Cordelia disappeared for a while and we didn't know what had happened to them. Fred and me were alone. It was just really bad and I couldn't help feeling that it was somehow all his fault."
"Wow," Anne said, trying to process Gunn's words. "I remember seeing just you and Fred running around alone a lot about a year ago. I knew something was wrong. You guys seemed really stressed out." Both sat silently for a few moments; then, Anne spoke again, "Was Fred the girl you were interested in?"
Reluctantly, Gunn nodded.
"Hmm, I see," Anne sighed, "and he won her in the end, didn't he."
"No! Yes…I don't know…I…not really," Gunn's confusion got Anne up to come around and sit on the desk near his chair. He looked up at her. She smiled at him with compassion, giving him time to get it together. Gunn tried to explain, "I broke it off with her, but I think I did it because I knew it wasn't gonna last. I'm just the muscle and she's so brainy, it's scary." He leaned back and sighed again, then smirked without humor at some inner joke, "I guess I could read the writing on the wall."
"You're not just muscle, Gunn," Anne said quietly. "You're a man who lived on the street, fought on the street, and protected those who had no one else. That crew you put together. They did a lot of good. Still do. And even though you don't live there anymore, you still fight for and protect those who need your help. I know, if I need help, you'd be there, no questions asked." She smiled wanly, "Do you know how really rare that is?"
"I guess when I lost my crew, I felt kinda useless. I mean, I can kill things, but all I keep hearin' is that Angel's the big champion and Wes is the brains. I just hit things. I'm like one of those wussy sidekicks on TV."
Anne threw her head back and swung her legs back and forth for a minute, thinking about what he said. Gunn had to admit, she looked fine—damn fine. It took an effort to concentrate on her words when she finally spoke.
"You know, your problem is that you're busy comparing yourself with others, rather than seeing yourself as something special on your own." She looked at him, making sure he was listening and then continued, "You and me are a lot alike." She shook her head disapprovingly at his snort, "Oh, I don't mean the muscle stuff. But we both had to get along on our own. All these people you work with now, they grew up in one home, they had families. I doubt they ever spent time under some bridge wondering if they were gonna starve when they were ten."
Gunn looked away, "They didn't have it all easy."
Anne agreed, "Yeah, But we know about having to find our own way as kids, while trying to survive. Bound to make a lot of mistakes. Lots of kids on the streets die trying to figure it all out, but we made it. We made something good out of our lives and we do our best to make others' lives better. Me at the shelter and you fighting with Angel." She smiled, "We did great."
Gunn smiled too, "Yeah, we did."
"There are always going to be people who are doing better, but most of 'em haven't come as far, and we aren't done yet."
Gunn echoed, "No, we aren't." He leant his head back on the chair, "Thanks." He looked at Anne, more relaxed now, "You really know what to say to make a brother feel better."
"Sure, I've had a lot of practice at the shelter." She shoved off the desk, commenting wryly, "But I had to start with myself."
He nodded, understanding as she headed towards the door. She paused just short, turning back to him to say, "One more thing, I can't help remembering this skinny, white guy with glasses who came to the shelter looking for you, worried about you, who went right out, even though people were getting killed on the streets. Because people were getting killed on the streets. Because you were on the streets." Gunn's smile disappeared at her words.
Anne pressed on, "Next time I saw him, he was shot in the stomach." She paused, "Friends like that are hard to find, Gunn."
"Yeah, you're right," Gunn nodded and smiled again. "I've been trying to fix things up with him. I do wanna let go of all this stuff." He stood up, stretched, and walked over to the door, "Thanks for helping me work this out. It's been festering for a while. I would have been all kinds of sorry if I dumped all this on him."
She gave him a hug, "No problem. Call me if I can help, or even if you just need someone to talk to again. You going to visit him in the hospital?"
"Not today, unless he wakes up. I think I'll do him more good if I help find the things that are trying to hurt him," Gunn avowed.
"Sounds like the words of a friend," Anne said smilingly.
He looked outside at the beginning dawn, "Wow, is it that late?"
She laughed, "No, it's that early."
He grinned, "Wanna get something to eat. Least I can do after talking your ears off is feed you."
"Never turn down a free meal, that's my philosophy," Anne agreed cheerfully.
Gunn steered her to the door, "Well, let's get to it. Where do you wanna eat?"
"Hmmm," Anne considered for a moment, then suggested, "There's this diner I used to work at, food's not bad and I can probably get a discount."
Gunn stopped for a second, "Know what, I think I've had enough of diners. How about I really treat you. You like steak?"
"Can you get one this time of day?" Anne asked surprised.
"Hey, I've got a lot of pull these days," Gunn puffed his chest in self-mocking bluster.
"Okay," Anne agreed amiably.
Gunn shut the door quietly on many things as he left.
…..
Angel surveyed the hospital room from the entrance. Except for the glass wall and the size (it was much bigger) it really wasn't much different from the one Wesley had been in when Angel had tried to smother him. The bed was on the right wall centered, big windows on the far wall, and bathroom on the left. Fred's back was to him. Fred had apparently finally fallen asleep, exhausted from her ordeal. Her head touched Wesley's, hands still firmly linked, even in sleep.
"Hey, Angel, what's up?" Faith spoke softly so not to wake the woman across from her. She faced Angel from her position on the other side of the bed. From there she could observe anyone who approached and Angel had no doubt she had quietly observed him from the second he'd come into sight. Angel moved to the foot of the bed asking pensively, "How's he doing?"
"He's good," Faith stood and stretched. She could swear the barely cushioned wooden chair had gotten harder hour by hour. "He's breathin' on his own now. Tubes are out." She smiled despite her sore backside.
Angel looked relieved, "Great!" He looked around and grabbed another chair from along the wall next to the bathroom, "You mind if I sit down?"
"Nope, but I think I'm gonna stand. That chair's starting to assimulate my but," Faith groused good-naturedly.
"Assimilate," Angel asked, confused.
"Sorry, too much old TV in prison," Faith explained, stretching from side to side.
Angel gave up trying to figure that one out and moved on to why he was there. "I've got some good news, although the timing isn't great," Angel glanced briefly at the unconscious man nearby.
"Yeah? What's up?" Faith asked curiously. Then her eyes brightened, "You found him! When do we go smoke Winston!"
Angel chuckled, "Nope, sorry. Giles and I followed up a lead, but it didn't pan out. Soon, hopefully, but not yet." He smiled, "The lawyers are done. You go to court tomorrow and leave a free woman."
Faith smiled broadly, "Really? That's cool." Her smile faltered as she looked at Wesley, "I get what you were saying about timing, though." She shook her head, "No way, I'm leaving him this time. If I'd stayed upstairs in the warehouse, he wouldn't be in this fix. It'll just have to wait." She plopped back down in the chair, winced a little, and then scowled, crossing her arms stubbornly.
"He told you to go," Fred's soft voice floated up unexpectedly and the two others looked at her in surprise. "Well, he did," she looked back and forth at the two.
Angel got over his surprise first, "Everybody did their best. We just got blindsided with that Morlock thing."
"Morlock?" Fred was confused.
"That Ickycreepygrossthingy that tried to eat our brains," Faith explained.
"Isn't a Morlock something out of a H.G. Wells book?" Fred was still confused.
"That's what Giles calls it. Get him to explain. He won't be able to shut up if you ask," Faith said smirking. She looked at Angel, tilting her head towards Fred, "You can always tell the bookworms."
"Actually, I got it from the movie," Fred said slightly miffed.
Faith, suddenly remembering, spoke up, "Hey! I think I saw that one. Old 'war is probably a bad thing' movie. But the Morlocks in that were different than this thing; they were more like the Phin ta' demon or maybe grey pigs with two legs. Personally, I'm stickin' with Gollum."
"Huh?" Fred was really confused now.
"Icky looks like Gollum. You know, out of Lord of the Rings."
Wesley stirred slightly, made a small sound, and then stopped moving again. Fred instantly spoke to him, placing her free hand on his forehead comfortingly.
They all watched for a few moments hopefully, but when it became clear that no other activity was imminent, they continued their conversation.
"Oh, Fred, I nearly forgot," Angel snapped his fingers suddenly. "Giles said to pass on a message from Mary. She's running…interference with her father." Angel looked at Wesley a moment, "He's being…difficult. Anyway, she'll be in later."
Fred nodded in understanding and explained to Faith, "You shoulda heard it when Mary called Wesley's father." She smiled sadly, "Wesley's dad is a real stinker."
"Yeah, I got that at our first meeting," Faith said smirking.
Angel piped up with a sudden thought, "I think it's amazing the number of dysfunctional families we have in our little cadre. If it weren't for your folks, Fred, and Buffy's mother, I don't think I'd believe in good parents."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Buffy's mom was great," Faith admitted sadly, then smiled, "Kinda gives me hope though, somethin' to fight for, like. Cause there are people out there like that."
"Faith, you've got to go," Angel spoke softly, but firmly. "I promise I'll stay until you get back. The sooner you get this done, the better." He added softly, "Then you'll really be able to get back into the fight without all this baggage."
Faith said a little sadly, "There'll always be baggage, Angel. But I get what you mean."
Angel nodded in understanding.
Faith looked at Fred, who nodded her approval at the idea; then, Faith agreed after a moment's hesitation, "Okay, but soon as I'm done, I'm back…and you don't do so much as a potty break, right?"
"No potty breaks, got it," Angel carefully kept his face and voice under control.
"He only has to go next door, they have a bathroom for guests in that room," Fred suggested helpfully.
"No leavin' the watcher," Faith said firmly.
"Got it," Angel reassured her as he continued, "I called Giles. He's going to meet you at the courthouse. Oh," Angel warned, "and don't sign anything. I told the lawyers already. Give me the names of any that still try."
"Oh, you gonna get all toothy on them, big guy?" Faith smirked, "I've handled lawyers before, you know."
"We're trying to keep you out of jail, Faith, not put you back in," Angel said patiently. "Better let me do the handling."
"Okey-dokey." Faith turned to Fred more seriously, "Back as soon as I can, promise."
Fred nodded and smiled, "I know. Maybe he'll be awake by then."
Faith smiled back, "Yeah, maybe he will."
…..
Outside the hospital, Faith looked up at the near-dawn sky she seen so little of while in prison. The air had a familiar tang to it. She'd been good at predicting the weather when she'd lived in Boston but hadn't had much call to use it while living in Los Angeles. The smell had that hint of moisture in it. It didn't rain a lot in sunny Cal, but looking overhead again, she muttered aloud, "Storm's coming," and moved down the stairs to the awaiting limousine.
…..
Fred, exhausted, was asleep again. She had refused to leave Wesley's side again and rested her head, instead, on her arm next to Wesley's head. The early beginnings of dawn sent dim early morning light peeking in through the slightly open slats of the window blinds. In the bed, Wesley moved restlessly, moaning as faint vertical lines of light crossed his closed eyelids. He turned his face away, wincing in discomfort as the nurse checked him expertly and, after a quick assessment, shut the blinds totally. Fred woke instantly, blinking rapidly against the sleep she needed. Wesley immediately relaxed, made a small "hmmm" and seemed to fall asleep again. While Fred watched anxiously, the nurse checked Wesley again, made a small "hmmm" of her own, and adjusted his IV's. The nurse smiled ingratiatingly, "Sorry about the blinds." Angel, who had been about to close them himself rather than face immolation, just nodded silently. Fred did a checkover of Wesley herself, wiping the sleep from her eyes wearily.
"Fred, you need to get some real sleep. The nurse said she can roll in a cot for you," Angel stood to put words to action.
"No, I don't want to…leave him," Fred yawned widely in the middle of her sentence.
"You're not going to do him any good if you end up in the next room," Angel warned.
Fred looked around dazedly and, her face pale against the white bandage on her neck, nodded in defeat, "Maybe we could put the cot…next to the bed somehow."
Angel assured her, "I'm sure we can."
…..
Angel could hear the doctor speaking imperiously as he came down the hallway, "Look, what's wrong with you people. First, you lose them; then you say you've found them, but these are not his x-rays!" The doctor stopped outside the room to speak coldly to the technician hovering nearby, "Ms. Holbright will not be happy."
The technician stammered fearfully, trying to apologize. Finally, the doctor waved him off in disgust shoving the set of x-rays in the frightened technician's trembling hands, "Never mind. I should have known better than to wait for hospital results. Better to get them done again myself." He stalked into the room and spoke quietly to the nurse for a moment. She handed him the chart giving him an update efficiently; then, she moved to the phone and made a discreet call.
Still keeping an eye curiously on the technician outside the room, Angel saw him turn and run into Ms. Holbright who seemed to have appeared like magic at the mention of her name. The technician paled and shrunk back apologizing profusely again. Ms. Holbright plucked the x-rays out of his hands neatly and after a few quiet words turned smartly to head to her office, the technician following reluctantly, almost as if he were towed against his will.
"So," the doctor smiled genially, instantly the most kindly of men and keeping his voice down courteously to avoid waking Fred, "I hear our patient is doing a little better, Mr. Angel."
Angel nodded silently, unwilling to risk waking Fred either.
The doctor pulled out a stethoscope and began an examination. He worked quietly around Fred's cot, but checked everything to his satisfaction.
The doctor moved around to Angel, "He's looking fine. He's still not awake and that's a little concerning, but the nurse believes he was responding to Ms. Burkle's presence." The doctor smiled, "That's a good sign. He looked at the chart again, "The EEG looked normal, he responded to light stimulus." The doctor looked up and offered, "Sometimes patients just need more time, especially when the injuries are as tramatic as Mr. Wyndam-Pryce's. Let's wait and see for a few more hours. If necessary, I'll order a few more tests." He looked at Fred sleeping nearby and mentioned, "If Ms. Burkle wishes to speak to me when she wakes up, just let the nurse know."
The nurse, who'd waited patiently during the doctor's examination, now stepped up, "It may be a while on the x-rays, doctor. Both portable machines are down in the ER. A multiple car pile-up on the 110. They're going crazy down there."
"That's alright," the doctor said genially. "His lungs sound fine and all his vitals have steadily improved all night. I think we can wait our turn." He looked at Angel, "Just have the nurse call if you have any concerns at all. I'm on call 24-7." He gave one final reassuring grin and moved on.
Ickycreepygrossthing term used by the kind permission of –J (a wonderfully creative reviewer).
Author's Notes: Three important notes: First, I am updating on Saturdays now. I think I forgot to mention that, but it seems to work out better for me. Second, I am starting college again. Yugh! I will update every two weeks starting now, barring problems at school and home. I really apologize because things are going to heat up in the story starting next chapter. I tried to get as far as I could this summer. Oh well (sigh). Hang in there, I will finish it. The third important item is that I am greatly inspired by Evanescence's amazing album "Fallen." If you don't have the album, I highly recommend it. I don't want to turn this into a songfic; however, in some chapters, if I closely associate a song with some portion of the chapter, I will let you know the song and which characters it's referring to (in my mind). Feel free to play it before or after you read the chapter. Also, some of the chapter titles may be taken from their album (or paraphrased anyway). As usual, this is not intended to infringe on their copyright; this is meant to acknowledge their great songs and their positive influence (I hope) on my writing. No profit is made.
Thanks to my two wonderful reviewers! Thanks to Spuffyshipper! I kinda though the Mary/Giles went a little too quickly to the "I love you" stage (A little forced), but I'm glad you liked it. I sort of wished Wesley's dad wasn't a robot too. I thought it took a lot of the dramatic tension away (it's all a dream and Bobby's in the shower kind of stuff—that's a "Dallas" TV show reference if you don't get it). Believe me, it applies. In any case, I guess they weren't prepared to go down the very rocky road they'd have to travel if he'd really killed his dad (I think he'd have turned himself in, if he was true to character). Enjoy all your upcoming dates, they sound like fun. Especially happy birthday (just in case I forget when it comes because college has skewered my brain by then)! Thanks to gopie! Glad you liked the Fred and Faith conversation. Faith has learned—redemption is possible. That Mary flashback about Wesley as a baby is a reference to a conversation that Mary and Fred had in chapter 14. I'm not surprised you don't remember it. This story is waaay toooo looong… There will be more of them, definitely. I'm really glad you appreciate them. They are intended to provide insight into the characters' motivations and actions. Some of them are also clues to some things that are going on in the plot. Glad you like Mary. I really wanted a believable love interest for Giles. I was always annoyed that they never had any credible love interest for Giles after Jenny Calendar. I know they had his sex-friend, Olivia, but that isn't the same as a relationship. Hopefully, I'm showing Mary as strong without being too perfect. Thanks for continuing to review!