TITLE: Turning Point 2/2

AUTHOR: tanith

Disclaimers, etc. in Part One

*************

When Randy regained consciousness, he was immediately aware of two things: first, that he was hungry; and second, that he was being watched.

With effort, he pushed the former away and chose to concentrate on the latter. He remembered being captured; he remembered Drusilla's twisted smile as she leaned over his broken body. It terrified him to think that he could open his eyes and find himself still her captive.

The pain seemed to have dissipated, however. Perhaps he could escape, or...

Suddenly he became aware that he could hear several people breathing in the room, accompanied by what he would have sworn was the steady beating of their hearts. So. Not vampires. Hope filled him as he first allowed himself to entertain the possibility that he might have been rescued.

Warily, Randy opened his eyes.

The room was dark, but Randy could instantly tell that it was his own. And there in front of him, every detail of her face, every strand of golden hair illuminated in the darkness, was Joan.

He was saved.

"I knew you'd come," he said, surprising himself with how strong his voice sounded.

He reached out a hand to her. She hesitated, her expression unreadable. But then she took him in her arms, crushing him to her breast as she whispered his name over and over again.

"Randy, oh Randy, Randy, Randy..."

His father was beside him now, too. The older man's expression was strangely grim. "How are you feeling?" he asked bluntly.

"Hungry," Randy said, smiling out from between Joan's arms.

Something sharp appeared behind Rupert's eyes. Randy felt as if he had been stabbed. "What is it?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"Joan," Rupert said in a warning tone, "perhaps you should give Randy some space."

Randy watched Joan reluctantly draw away from him, and he suddenly felt very cold.

"What happened?" he asked. "Is eveybody okay? How did you find me? How long have I been out?"

Joan looked up at her Watcher, nervously, deferring the questions to him even though Randy's eyes were fixed decidedly on her. Rupert sighed. He took off his glassed and began to polish them. Randy recognized the gesture; it was one that he had inherited. It was not a good sign.

"Everyone else is fine," Rupert said, deciding to start with the good news. "Joan hurt her arm a bit in the initial struggle, but it has already healed."

"Good ol' Slayer strength," Randy said, smiling up at Joan. She did not return his grin.

Rupert ignored his son's comment and continued, but more slowly now. He was coming to the part he didn't want to talk about. He felt crushed by the fact that he had to be the one to give Randy the news. It was terrible, sometimes, having to be the adult.

"We had a pretty good idea where Drusilla had been hiding, so it was not too difficult to find you. Unfortunately," and Rupert forced himself to look his son in his eyes as he said it, "we were too late."

Randy blinked. "What?"

Joan's eyes had a haunted look to them. "We were too late."

Randy looked back and forth between the two of them, at their identical grave expressions, looking for some hint of jest. He found none.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When I got there," Joan said slowly, "Drusilla..."

And suddenly, Randy knew. He remembered Drusilla leaning over him, remembered the look in her eyes, and he knew. But he could not allow himself to believe it.

"No," he declared, as if saying it could make it so. He glared up at them now, all the warmth gone from his face. "No. Look me in the eyes and tell me...tell me you wouldn't allow that to happen."

The silence was deafening.

Randy began to laugh. Laughing, he put his thumb to his wrist and felt the still and silent vein. "Bring me a mirror," he choked out between further gasps of laughter. Wordlessly, Joan went and retrieved the compact from her purse. She handed it over without touching him, wanting to turn away as he laughed at the mirror's empty surface. But then the laughter turned into tears, and before she was even consciously aware that she had moved, Joan was holding him again. Randy shook against her, still drawing ragged, unneeded breaths as he sobbed. Joan stroked his hair, whispering reassurances that she knew to be lies.

Rupert, who had barely moved a inch since Randy's awakening, continued to stand stock still as he watched this scene transpire in front of him. His son's tears stirred something in him, and he realized it was hope once again rising to the surface. Slowly, Rupert's clenched hands relaxed at his sides. With measured steps, he crossed the few feet to the bed and knelt down at his son's side.

"Randy." He spoke with a father's conviction, his voice soft but steady. "It's going to be all right."

Randy cast his tear-stained face up at Rupert. "Dad?" he said. "I'm scared."

"So am I," Rupert said seriously. "But I promise you: we won't leave you to fight this alone."

Randy nodded. Untangling his hand from Joan's, he wiped the tears from his cheeks. He swallowed and started to take a deep breath before realizing that he didn't need to. He looked nervously down at the floor.

"Um. Remember what I said before about being hungry? Well, it's becoming a bit of a problem."

************

Randy stared down at the mug of blood in his hand. And stared, and stared, and stared.

"So this is cow, is it?" he asked finally.

"Pig." This was Alex, who stood in the corner, hands deep in his pockets, looking uncomfortable. Apparently, his duties as donut and pizza delivery boy had now been expanded to bringing butcher's blood to his now undead friend. Or was that dead unfriend? Alex wasn't sure.

"What do you suppose the difference is?" Randy asked, still eyeing the mug of blood as if it might take a sip of him instead of the other way around.

"You're the vampire. You tell me."

Randy shot a glare in Alex's direction. Since entering the room five minutes before, Alex had managed to mention that he, Randy, was now a vampire nothing short of twelve times. Randy was becoming annoyed.

"Okay. Howzabout we all hold a taste test some--" he started to snark, but was interrupted by a loud growl emanating from his stomach.

Alex fixed him with a pointed stare. "I guess that's your vampire appetite trying to send you a message."

Randy glared at him again, but knew there was no point in arguing. "Right then. So I'm just going to try this now..." He raised the mug to his lips and quickly lowered it again. "Do you think it's better if you warm it up or something?" Randy asked. Even he realized that his stalling was becoming rather desperate.

Alex must have realized it, too. Sighing, he pulled his hands out of his pockets and took a seat next to the bed - just out of Randy's reach, for safety's sake. "You're going to have to taste it eventually, you know."

"I know." Randy ripped his eyes away from the blood and looked at Alex straight on. "It's just that right now, I can pretend. Once I drink this..."

"It's real," Alex finished.

Randy nodded.

Alex pursed his lips. "Would it help if I drank some first?" he suggested.

"No," Randy said, definitively. Then he seemed to reconsider. "It would be amusing, though..."

Alex held up his hands, as if to ward off any proffered blood in advance. "I take it back! No blood tasting for me."

Randy smirked. "Coward."

"Hey," Alex said. "You're the vampire, and I don't see you tasting it."

Randy's smile faded, the jovial moment passing as quickly as it had come. His eyes returned to the mug still gripped tightly in his hand.

Alex sighed again and scooted his chair a bit closer to the bed. "Seriously, Randy," he said, gently now. "You have to drink it. If you don't, you'll end up all dusty and they'll make me vacuum. I hate vacuuming."

A hint of a smile returned to Randy's face. "How nice to know that you care," he said. Then he grew serious again. "Do you know what scares me the most?"

"What?"

"That I'll enjoy it."

Alex bit his lip. "So what if you do?" he said after a moment. "I like anchovies on my pizza, and in general, nobody holds it against me."

"I promise never to make fun of you about that again," Randy said, and then he downed a big gulp of blood before he even had the chance to think about it. "Bloody hell," he said.

"What?"

"It's really good."

And then he was drinking, slurping like a person who'd just spent two days lost in the desert. Alex watched as a look of ecstasy spread across his friend's face. Only...

"Holy crap!" Alex tumbled backwards off his chair, overturning it. They hit the floor together with a loud clatter.

In an instant, Rupert was in the room, stake brandished and at the ready. Alex had insisted on going in to see Randy alone ("If I don't do it now, then I'll never be able to stay alone in a room with him again") and Rupert had allowed it, but still refused to move more than four feet away from the door. "What's wrong?" he yelled now, cursing himself for permitting even that much.

"I don't know!" said the very confused vampire lying in Randy's bed.

Oh.

Rupert let the stake fall to his side. "Alex, get up off the floor," he said tiredly. "And Randy? Please try to revert back to your human features. I believe you've given Alex quite a shock."

"What?" Randy raised a tentative hand to his face. To his surprise, the bumps and ridges he found there did not particularly disgust him. Still, he pushed them away with, thankfully, relative ease. "Ooops," he said. "Sorry."

"S okay," Alex said, straightening the chair. He seemed mildly embarrassed. "I was just...surprised."

"How ugly is it?"

Alex turned to Rupert. "Do I have to answer that?"

"No."

"I think this is a case of don't ask, don't tell, buddy."

"Great. Now I'm never going to get a date."

Alex grinned. "And that's different *how*?"

Silently, Rupert slipped away, assured that everything was once again as right in the world as it was going to get.

*************

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Randy?" Rupert asked.

Randy straightened his shoulders and said, in a voice that conveyed much more assurance than he felt, "Yes."

"Joan, are you sure you're ready?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, suddenly *this* patrol is making me all quakey in the knees. Of course I'm ready."

Rupert took off his glasses and began to polish them, and Randy once again restrained from smirking over the fact that he no longer had to wear any. At least being a vampire had the advantage of making you a lot cooler - and not just in the body temperature sense.

"Joan, this really is a serious matter. We have no way of knowing how Randy will react around other vampires. It's true that he could be quite an asset thanks to his enhanced strength, but we have no idea if watching other vampires hunt could cause him to revert to his, um, more basic nature..."

"Bloody hell, I'm standing right here," Randy said, irritably. "Thanks for all the trust, Dad."

"Son, I'm just concerned..."

"Joan, can we go?"

She handed him a stake. "Ready when you are, Randy."

"I'm ready."

Together, they headed off into the night.

*************

"This is so cool!" Randy shouted, as he punched an attacking vampire in the jaw without having to contend with the vibrating aftershocks such an action used to send racing up his arm. "I'm kickin' arse, Joan!"

"You've been watching too many testosterone flicks, Randy!" came her shouted reply, slightly muffled by vampire dust. "And when did you start talking like that?"

He snorted, finishing off his opponent with one perfectly timed stabbing motion. He ran to catch up with Joan.

"I thought it would piss off my Dad. What do you think?"

"Why don't you just get a nose ring? Or bleach your hair?"

"You know, that's actually not a bad idea...Duck!"

Joan ducked and Randy let fly with a stake, which a moment later found its new home in a very surprised vampire's chest. She straightened up and couldn't help but grin at the elated expression on his face.

"How come you never told me patrol was this much fun?"

Her expression turned solemn for a moment, remembering how all of this had started out: with an innocent little patrol. Randy had died because of it. And yet, here they were, patrolling together as if nothing had happened, besides Randy getting a little martial arts training. So things were scary sometimes, and her friend was now stuck on a blood-and-no-sun diet for eternity, but Joan couldn't honestly say that she was completely saddened by the way things had turned out.

"It's not, always," she said, seriously. "Lately, though," and her face broke into a little half-grin, "it's been quite a ride."

They shared a look, and Joan suddenly felt her face grow hot. Part of her wanted to reach over and touch him, just to make sure that he was real, but she resisted the impulse. Those were feelings for another time. Right now, they had a job to do.

She turned to him, the smile spreading from her lips to cover her entire face. "Ready for some more action, Randy?"

"Always, Joan."

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END