Title: An Irish Lullaby
Chapter Authored By: MissKitieFantastico
A/N(1): Thanks to everyone for the reviews. Even though we seem to have lost a few people. I'm actually really looking forward to writing the next few chapters 'cause I believe it's gonna get real interesting. Tigerwolf (Angel) & I aren't even sure where each chapter is going to take us, so we're just as surprised as you are by the time it gets posted! =)
A/N(2): HaHa. I don't have one. Made ya look. =P
Disclaimers: See Chapter One. And if you're still confused-- NO we don't own the characters. If we did, we'd be rich, I'd be married to David, and Jaime would be our under-paid nanny. (A girl can dream, can't she?)
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Chapter Seven
Research and Truce
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"Are you going to the kitchen?"
"Yeah."
"Great! Could you get me another Diet Pepsi while you're there? Ooh, and bring that box of leftover pizza with you?" I throw a smile at Angel, and he nods, turning his back to me and heading for the kitchen.
"So, how's it goin' with the book ya got there Cordy?" Fred leans over my shoulder and stares at the book that I have on my lap. We're both on the floor in the lobby, literally surrounded by books of all shapes and smells, pouring over every single text Wesley has in his horrendously large library. We gave up on trying to sort all of it out on the desks about two days ago. Fred and I have been going all blurry-eyed reading through his texts while Gunn, Lorne and Angel have been attempting to go through Wesley's chicken-scratch notes. Some of which are harder to read than the tomes in random archaic languages he owns.
"It's not going anywhere. I can't find anything about anything in any of these. I won't even mention the fact that most of the books I've been going through aren't even in a language I can pronounce let alone read. I mean, the pretty pictures are spiffy, but not exactly helpful." I smile at her over my shoulder as she crawls back to her piece of floor a few feet away, and for the first time in days, she smiled back as she settled herself back in front of her laptop.
She really took these recent events harder than anyone. She loved Connor so much, and she cared for Wes just as much we did, maybe more. Mesh that together with the fact that Fred is quite the sensitive girl to begin with, and it's nothing but trouble. We had an easier time getting her out of her room when she came back from Pylea! But she just needed time, and it seemed like that was all we had because of the fact that we had absolutely no clue what we were supposed to do about getting Connor back.
"Yeah, we're not getting anywhere. And even if what we needed to know was in one of these," she sweeps her arms out in front of her, across the mountain of books and scattered papers, "we don't even know what we're looking FOR." She sighs and her shoulders slump forward in defeat. She's right, you know. Even if what we needed to know WAS in this very room nipping us right in the ass, we're not Team Research. That's Wesley's forté.
Speaking of, he's supposed to be getting out of the hospital today. I would be there except that he's now refused to see any of us. Including me. That was a shot to the gut-- no pun intended-- let me tell you.
I run my hand through my hair and rub at my eyes. We've all been at this for days, sans sleep. It's like the slumber party that wouldn't end!
"Here you go, Cordy. I even put the straw in the can for you." Angel kneels down beside me and hands me the can. He's grinning like an idiot at the fact that he remembered how I liked my soda. I can't help but giggle a little at the sight of him. He's just too cute when he's all homely.
He smiles even wider when I giggle, and he does something that surprises the hell out of me. He runs his fingers down the side of my face and brushes a lock of my brown hair behind my ear. I can feel a blush creep up my neck and I'm struggling to keep my heartbeat normal as I catch his brown eyes with mine. "Thanks." Wow, be more of a dork, Cor. 'Thanks'? I can't believe I sounded like a smitten teenager when I whispered that.
Suddenly we're back in reality and his eyes go dark when he breaks away from my gaze. "Find anything yet?"
He settles himself right next to me on the floor, facing my side, one knee brushing my back, and I adjust my tank top self-consciously before I talk.
"Not a thing. This isn't going to work. We've been looking for a week, Angel. We can't keep wasting time like this."
"I know. But what else can we do? I mean, I could go out and smash a few faces… Which would make me feel a whole hell of a lot better, but it wouldn't help Connor." I don't even think he realizes that while he was talking, his hand wandered to my top, running his long fingers across the hem absently. But oh boy did I ever. I know these distractions aren't helping either of us, but I think it's all we really have right now. And it's so confusing… we haven't said anything about Groo or my little confession, and part of me is thankful. He knows how I feel, but I still don't know if he loves me back. I mean, I'm pretty sure he does, but not bet-my-life-savings-in-Vegas sure. We'll deal later. He knows it, I know it. So I guess I shouldn't be worrying about it, but it'd be nice to know, and be able to take comfort in him. In a lover's kinda way, not in a shady, blurring-the-lines-of-friendship way.
I must've been spacing out, because he takes my hand off the book in my lap and tangles my fingers with his. "Hey, don't worry. We'll get him back. The Powers sent you that-- extremely long-- vision for a reason. They wouldn't have given us hope like that if they didn't think we could beat this."
"Since when are you Mr. Support-O-Matic? I thought that was my job." I feel bad that I wasn't actually thinking about Connor-- I feel selfish. I was thinking about me. I thought I grew out of that a long time ago…
"Yeah well, you don't have to be strong in front of me. This is ME we're talking about. You don't need the walls." What is it with him and metaphors. Walls. Tunnels. He needs a few lessons in Tactless Conversation. It'd make it a whole lot easier to follow him.
"What do you mean? I have to be strong, I'm not gonna sit here and be a cheap knock-off version of a CryBuffy! Gotta grab the bull by the balls and handle the situation." Oops. That slipped out a little harsher than even I would have liked. Damn me for bringing up Buffy, now he's gonna go feel guilty about leaving her and dish himself a double-scoop of Brood.
"You don't have to with me, Cordy. I WANT to be the strong one for us." Us? Again with the confusion. Hey, he forgot to Brood about Buffy! That's it, my world has definitely been replaced by some freakish parallel world where Little-Miss-Likes-To-Fight isn't the center of everyone's universe.
"You want to know what I'm worried about? What I was really thinking about?" I pull my hand out of his and fold them together in my lap.
He nods when I look up at him. "I was thinking about Wesley." Ok, not a total lie. I WAS thinking about Wes. Well, I was about five minutes ago. "Before you go all 'grr' let me explain." I stop him with a wave of my not- so-well manicured hand before he has a chance to open his mouth, but I can see that he REALLY wants to say something.
"We need him here, Angel. I mean look at us!" I emphasize my point by sweeping my gaze across the lobby.
Lorne and Gunn sitting on the round sofa, alternating between taking bites of cold pizza and ripping through pages and pages of notes.
Fred laying on her stomach a few feet away from me, managing to furiously flip through a book and look something up on the internet at the same time.
Groo at the counter, rummaging through his own book.
"We're tired, Angel. And… tired. Maybe some more tired, and on TOP of that, we're not getting ANYWHERE. We need him here."
I look back at him, and his expression is completely unreadable.
"No."
"What do you mean, NO?! How can you say that?" I'm struggling to keep my voice down so I don't draw attention to our very touchy conversation.
He must have been reading my thoughts because he gets up abruptly, pulling me with him.
"Hey!"
"Come on." He grabs my arm--hard-- and pulls me into Wes' office. Well, what used to be his office. The guys kinda unanimously voted on giving Wes the boot without even consulting me first.
He closes the door, a bit harder than I think he meant to, and I can just imagine what everyone's thinking outside. I yank my arm out of his grasp, practically yelping out in pain. "Ouch! You big bully, that hurt!"
"Sorry." His voice is flat, emotionless. He's too pissed to care about how he grabbed me.
"Whatever." I wave it off, before rubbing my right arm. Oh yeah, that'll bruise for sure. "Why don't you want him to help."
"Because."
"That's not an answer, Angel." I'm glaring daggers at him now. I'll win this fight. If I have to beat him into submission, I will.
"It is for me." He leans back against the desk and crosses his arms. Yeah, like pouting like a big 'ol baby is going to get you out of this conversation.
"I don't think so, Pouty Pants. We need to talk about this." I mimic him and cross my arms over my own chest, eyebrow raised.
"No we don't need to talk about this. And you know damn well why he's not to be involved. It's because of HIM that this happened in the first place." He's gritting his teeth, trying really hard not to yell at me. I could care less, he can yell and pout all he wants, but it's not going to diminish the truth of the situation. We need Wes' expertise and he knows it. He just doesn't want to get past his anger to see it.
"Yeah, and? He knows that. Which is another reason why he SHOULD be here helping us. He needs to help fix this."
"He doesn't deserve a chance to fix it. He betrayed me—betrayed YOU. The GROUP. And he attacked Lorne."
"Lorne'll get over it. Hell, Lorne IS over it. He was the one talking sense into ME when I wanted to rip Wes' head off!"
"I'm in charge here, and I'm saying no." Ah, I know what that is. That's the I'm-the-boss-and-what-I-say-goes tone. Too bad no one voted you into office, El Presidenté. So far I've been the one handling the situation with any kind of mental and emotional clarity.
"You know what? You are such a hypocrite!" I step forward and jab my finger into his chest.
"What?!" He moves to brush my hand away, but I drop it first.
"Here you are working for redemption for the buttloads of people Angelus killed and you're not willing to let Wes have the same chance?! I'd say that's a damn good definition of a hypocrite!"
Maybe I pushed my luck a bit far, because his eyes go completely cold. I'm just batting a thousand today with the tortured-past insults. First Buffy, now Angelus. He doesn't say anything to me, just looks. With dead eyes… Well, dead-er eyes than normal. Great way to win an argument, Cor.
I sigh and close my eyes.
Count to three and try again. One… two… three... I open my eyes and he's still staring at me.
"Angel, I'm sorry. I just… I didn't really mean that, but you've got to think about this. Please?" Time for Grovel-y Cordy to make her grand entrance. So I step toward him and put my hands on his arms.
"But, he's my baby, Cordy. Wes put him in so much danger. How do I forgive him for that?" His eyes have softened a bit, and his voice is little over a whisper.
"I never said you had to forgive him… right away or ever. I want Connor back as much as you do, and Wes does this research and theory mumbo-jumbo better than all of us."
He unfolds his arms and traces his fingers along the reddened area on my arm. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean to."
"You're sorry, I'm sorry. We're even. So, let's go kidnap our ex-Watcher shall we?" I smile at him so he knows I mean it, but his frown just grows even deeper.
"Fine. We'll do this your way… But it doesn't mean I have to like it." He sighs, for what reason I'm not so sure. Vampires don't breathe, but who am I to question.
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"I'm so nervous! I haven't seen Wes since we took him to the hospital. What if he doesn't listen? What if he doesn't want to help? What if--"
"No more 'what ifs', Fred. I've already driven myself up the proverbial wall over all those. IF he doesn't come quietly, we'll have to use tough love." I glance over at her in the passenger seat of Angel's car. "You wanted to come, please don't get cold feet on me now."
"No, no. I'm coming. It's just, it's like this one time in sixth grade when my mom wanted me to wear this flowery dress for picture day and it was so ugly, and I didn't want to wear it. But I wore it." Fred rambled as she got out of the car and I followed suit, slamming the door shut and tucking the keys into my jeans pocket.
I've completely given up on trying to make sense out of Fred's stories so I stay quiet as we walk through the parking lot to the hospital.
I'm desperately trying to think of what to say to get him to come home with us, but my mind's only drawing a big donut hole. Guess I'll just have to wing it.
We pass by the nurses' station and I see Missy sitting behind the counter. She glances up at us, and smiles warily at me as we turn the corner. Guess I left an impression, huh? She probably won't forget Queen C for a long time to come.
"Wait." Fred grabs my arm just as I'm about to open the door to his room. "I'm scared."
"Why? It's just Wes, Fred." I look back at her and her hand is shaking as she pulls it back.
"What am I supposed to say? What do I do? I mean, I'm still mad at him, but I don't want him to think I hate him. What if he hates me?"
"He doesn't hate any of us. I promise you. Just be Fred." I smile at her as I open the door and walk through, Fred trailing right behind me.
"I thought I told you to stay away." Wes glances over his shoulder before turning away and sliding on his jacket.
"Since when do I ever listen to you?" My vain attempt at lightening the immediate tension in the room completely falters.
"I can't help you."
His back still to us, he busies himself with stuffing his belongings into the duffelbag I'd brought him the day he told me not to visit him anymore.
"Yes you can, Wes. We need you." Fred piped up from behind me, and I see Wes stiffen at the sound of her voice. He must not have seen her when we came in.
"You don't understand."
"What's to understand?" Fred finds some sort of long-lost confidence and pushes past me and storms right up next to Wes. "We can't find Connor without you. You HAVE to help us."
He's quiet for a long moment, then turns to face her before he speaks. His cold voice completely betrayed his face. I'm shocked to see tears running down his cheeks.
"I'll fail. I can't let you down like that again." He's finished throwing his clothes into the bag and swings it over his shoulder. Now I can see the white bandage and gauze wrapped around his neck. He doesn't seem fazed by it at all.
"It was a mistake, it happens to everyone." Fred places her hand on his arm to console him and looks into his eyes, tears now shining brightly in her own. "Please?"
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"The beginning will bring the end." Wes leans back in his chair, obviously running all the information through his overloaded brain. "The beginning of what? That is the key to unlocking the puzzle, I am certain. That is what we should focus on."
"Damn visions. They're so freakin' vague. Kinda ironic how the longest vision of my life is the one that's as easy to solve as a Rubix Cube. Gimme more to work with people!" I tilt my head back and yell at the ceiling.
Wes takes off his glasses and rubs at his pale face. "So we know Acathla has something to do with this. Doyle obviously made it a point to emphasize that. What did he say during the battle between Buffy and Angelus?"
"He said, uh, timing is everything. He said the first time Sahjhan tried to stop Angel's soul from re-entering his body, he was too late." I scrunch my face in concentration. I think my hard drive is running out of memory with all these visions taking up space in my head. Sometimes it's hard to tell one from another after a while.
"Is that all?" He leans forward in his seat, replacing his glasses.
"No… I…can't remember now." I sigh in defeat. We've been going through the vision for hours and I can't remember any more details. It doesn't help that Lorne is gone, and Angel's been acting like Charlie Chaplin. Except less bumbling over himself, and more of the not talking.
"He said Sahjhan went back again and made it in time to stop the soul." Angel steps out of the corner of the office and looks straight at Wes, who immediately averts his gaze.
"Divergentverse." Fred mumbled.
"What did you say Fred?" Wes' head shot in her direction before he winced in pain and grabbed his neck.
"From there Sahjhan changed the future. The realities diverged. A divergentverse." She spoke up louder this time, flicking her gaze between me, Wes and Angel.
"Yes, yes. The realities split. A new one was created." Wes busies himself again with scribbling more chicken-scratch on a notepad on the desk, and I'm left partially lost.
"Now, what does this have to do with Angel? That's what I don't understand." I say.
"You heard what Doyle said. Sahjhan's crazy. He's out for revenge. I killed- - I mean, Angelus killed his mate."
"New. Beginning. New. The beginning will bring the end. Do you think that means the beginning of the divergentverse?" Fred shoots forward in her seat, getting her own 'Eureka!' moment.
"It is possible. I believe you are on to something, Fred." Wes smiles at her slightly before writing it down.
"It's all we have to go on. I say we take that ball and run. But that leaves the big 'ol honkin' question of where specifically the beginning is."
"Of course, Cordy. We still need to figure that out--"
Angel cuts Wes off, "The mansion. Where else would the beginning be? That's where the universes 'diverged' isn't it?"
"Of course. We need to go back to the beginning of that universe to bring an end to it." Wes leans back again, obvious pride on his face at the way we're working together. I'm totally with him on that too. Although Angel's been less than forthcoming with conversation directed at Wes, I think he was expecting much worse.
"But what about Connor? You said that Doyle said he was there, and he was safe, right? So how do we get him back?" Fred's voice gets a panicked edge to it as she talks.
"We will have to figure that out, but for now, at least we have some leads. I'll need to do more research, but maybe we can get into that other universe somehow and get Connor out. For now, I think we all need to take a break. Cordy, Angel, Fred. You look exhausted. You should rest, I'll keep looking and I will let you know if I find anything. We'll also need to discuss later, making arrangements to return to Sunnydale."
"Yeah. We'll talk about Sunnydale later." Oh, I'm so not loving this more and more. Sunnydale is like adding salt to an open wound. Except that it's hurts ten times as much, and I'm not the only one with the bad memories.
Wes and I share a quick look before I get out of my chair. It's obvious he's not liking the idea of a trip down memory lane any more than I am.
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"What are you thinking?" I tear my gaze away from the passing landscape and look at Angel, sitting behind the wheel of the convertible. His gaze shifts back and forth between me and the road a few times before I organize my thoughts enough to speak.
"Just about how much I really don't want to be in Sunnydale."
"I know, but--"
"It's the only way. I'm aware of that. I'm also aware that half of our group doesn't exactly have fond memories of the Hellmouth and its occupants." I spare a glance into the backseat to look at Wesley. He's staring up at the night sky, while Lorne and Groo are talking about Pylea.
I look back at Angel and continue my thought, "But, we're here for Connor and right now that's more important than a trip down memory lane."
"You amaze me, you know that?" He turns his head to look at me, a slight smile on his face, before tearing his eyes away to look at the road. "You also annoy the hell out of me, but that's also part of what I love about you."
Did he just say what I thought he said? I shake my head and gawk at him. No, my ears aren't playing tricks on me. He said it. The smile and the invisible blush (which would be visible if he were alive) tell me I DEFINITELY heard him right.
I'm about to say something when Lorne pokes his head between us. Oh of all the crappy timing…
"So Sugarcakes, how far have we got? Your old pal Groo here is killin' me with the bedtime stories of decapitation and evisceration."
"Yeah, he tends to go overboard with the share-time, doesn't he… Relax, it's only another 15 minutes." I give Lorne an I-feel-your-pain smile, before he turns to Angel. I could barely hear what he was saying over the roar of the highway.
"I think you should talk to him, Bumpkins. Might alleviate some of the tension." Lorne pats him on the shoulder before slumping back into his seat to get another ear-full of Groo's stories.
All Angel does is look at me, unfortunately it's a look that I can't quite read. I think it's somewhere between anger and pain but I'm not sure.
The rest of the drive was made in uncomfortable silence. We passed the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign and I stuck my tongue out at it. Not very lady- like but at least it made me feel better. That is, until we started passing places I remembered. The Espresso Pump, the school, or what's left of it anyway. All of it took me back to a time I'd rather not remember. I don't want to have to think about who I was when I lived here.
It took me a long time to get away from that girl.
Though sometimes I miss the innocence I used to have. Not having to worry about demons on my way to the mall—just about finding a close parking space so I wouldn't wear out my brand new Prada heels.
Sometimes I miss it… Sometimes.
But then all I have to do is look at my family; Angel, Connor, Wes, Fred, Gunn, even Lorne. I look at them and suddenly I don't miss it a bit.
I must've completely been in La-La-Land because I don't realize that we've stopped until I hear Angel shutting the engine off. I shake away my thoughts and memories and get out of the car. I stretch my back, working out all the kinks from the 2-hour drive, and gaze up at the mansion. It looks a lot gloomier at night now, than it did in my vision.
As I'm walking around to the other side of the car, two headlights blind me coming up the driveway.
Fred and Gunn rode in his pick-up, and I see them hop out of the massive behemoth of a truck.
"So, this is it, huh? Nice diggs." Gunn strolls right past Wes to stand by Angel, who's been staring blankly at the mansion since he got out of the car. Leave it to the PTB to bring us to a place where Angel will feel right at home brooding in.
"Yeah. You guys go on inside, I'll be there in a minute." Angel looks at Gunn for a second before turning to me and Wes. Without another word, everyone slowly makes their way up the rest of the driveway and into the darkened house. I go to walk away too, knowing that this is where Angel is supposed to hash it out with Wes, but he stops me with a look in my direction.
Wes actually looks frightened by whatever he assumes Angel is going to say, but he stands his ground, books in hand, waiting for the first blow.
"I didn't want you here, Wes. But… Cordy has a way of, well, getting her way. And she was also half-right about giving you a chance. Even if we get Connor back, I don't know if I'll ever forgive you, but I have to give you the chance. Or else I WOULD be a hypocrite." His voice is low, but full of hurt, not anger, and he looks at me with a silent 'thank you' in his eyes. I guess my little angry slip-up did make a difference.
"Truth be told, I didn't want to be here, either. But, Cordy does have her way." He gives me a quick glance and a small smile, and continues, "I just hope we will figure this out and get your son back, Angel. I truly AM sorry for what happened. You must know that."
Angel hesitates a second before speaking. "Let's just get inside."
Well, not exactly what I was hoping to hear from him, but I'm glad he at least talked to Wes.
That's the first step of many, I hope. Even if it WAS only a baby step, I think Wes appreciated the gesture.
I smile at no one in particular, and follow Angel and Wes up the drive and into the looming mansion to meet up with the rest of the group.
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So people. What's up with the not-reviewing? I'm gonna take away your playtime privileges if you don't de-lurk and leave us a little note! =)
That said, please hit the little button that says 'Review' and tell us how we're going.
Feedback is like milk. It does a fanficwriter's soul good.
-MissKitie ^o^
Oh, last note. Tigerwolf will, from now on, be posting under the pen-name Angel-4-ever just so you're not confused. If you have any questions as to why, see her profile. Ciao.
Chapter Authored By: MissKitieFantastico
A/N(1): Thanks to everyone for the reviews. Even though we seem to have lost a few people. I'm actually really looking forward to writing the next few chapters 'cause I believe it's gonna get real interesting. Tigerwolf (Angel) & I aren't even sure where each chapter is going to take us, so we're just as surprised as you are by the time it gets posted! =)
A/N(2): HaHa. I don't have one. Made ya look. =P
Disclaimers: See Chapter One. And if you're still confused-- NO we don't own the characters. If we did, we'd be rich, I'd be married to David, and Jaime would be our under-paid nanny. (A girl can dream, can't she?)
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Chapter Seven
Research and Truce
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"Are you going to the kitchen?"
"Yeah."
"Great! Could you get me another Diet Pepsi while you're there? Ooh, and bring that box of leftover pizza with you?" I throw a smile at Angel, and he nods, turning his back to me and heading for the kitchen.
"So, how's it goin' with the book ya got there Cordy?" Fred leans over my shoulder and stares at the book that I have on my lap. We're both on the floor in the lobby, literally surrounded by books of all shapes and smells, pouring over every single text Wesley has in his horrendously large library. We gave up on trying to sort all of it out on the desks about two days ago. Fred and I have been going all blurry-eyed reading through his texts while Gunn, Lorne and Angel have been attempting to go through Wesley's chicken-scratch notes. Some of which are harder to read than the tomes in random archaic languages he owns.
"It's not going anywhere. I can't find anything about anything in any of these. I won't even mention the fact that most of the books I've been going through aren't even in a language I can pronounce let alone read. I mean, the pretty pictures are spiffy, but not exactly helpful." I smile at her over my shoulder as she crawls back to her piece of floor a few feet away, and for the first time in days, she smiled back as she settled herself back in front of her laptop.
She really took these recent events harder than anyone. She loved Connor so much, and she cared for Wes just as much we did, maybe more. Mesh that together with the fact that Fred is quite the sensitive girl to begin with, and it's nothing but trouble. We had an easier time getting her out of her room when she came back from Pylea! But she just needed time, and it seemed like that was all we had because of the fact that we had absolutely no clue what we were supposed to do about getting Connor back.
"Yeah, we're not getting anywhere. And even if what we needed to know was in one of these," she sweeps her arms out in front of her, across the mountain of books and scattered papers, "we don't even know what we're looking FOR." She sighs and her shoulders slump forward in defeat. She's right, you know. Even if what we needed to know WAS in this very room nipping us right in the ass, we're not Team Research. That's Wesley's forté.
Speaking of, he's supposed to be getting out of the hospital today. I would be there except that he's now refused to see any of us. Including me. That was a shot to the gut-- no pun intended-- let me tell you.
I run my hand through my hair and rub at my eyes. We've all been at this for days, sans sleep. It's like the slumber party that wouldn't end!
"Here you go, Cordy. I even put the straw in the can for you." Angel kneels down beside me and hands me the can. He's grinning like an idiot at the fact that he remembered how I liked my soda. I can't help but giggle a little at the sight of him. He's just too cute when he's all homely.
He smiles even wider when I giggle, and he does something that surprises the hell out of me. He runs his fingers down the side of my face and brushes a lock of my brown hair behind my ear. I can feel a blush creep up my neck and I'm struggling to keep my heartbeat normal as I catch his brown eyes with mine. "Thanks." Wow, be more of a dork, Cor. 'Thanks'? I can't believe I sounded like a smitten teenager when I whispered that.
Suddenly we're back in reality and his eyes go dark when he breaks away from my gaze. "Find anything yet?"
He settles himself right next to me on the floor, facing my side, one knee brushing my back, and I adjust my tank top self-consciously before I talk.
"Not a thing. This isn't going to work. We've been looking for a week, Angel. We can't keep wasting time like this."
"I know. But what else can we do? I mean, I could go out and smash a few faces… Which would make me feel a whole hell of a lot better, but it wouldn't help Connor." I don't even think he realizes that while he was talking, his hand wandered to my top, running his long fingers across the hem absently. But oh boy did I ever. I know these distractions aren't helping either of us, but I think it's all we really have right now. And it's so confusing… we haven't said anything about Groo or my little confession, and part of me is thankful. He knows how I feel, but I still don't know if he loves me back. I mean, I'm pretty sure he does, but not bet-my-life-savings-in-Vegas sure. We'll deal later. He knows it, I know it. So I guess I shouldn't be worrying about it, but it'd be nice to know, and be able to take comfort in him. In a lover's kinda way, not in a shady, blurring-the-lines-of-friendship way.
I must've been spacing out, because he takes my hand off the book in my lap and tangles my fingers with his. "Hey, don't worry. We'll get him back. The Powers sent you that-- extremely long-- vision for a reason. They wouldn't have given us hope like that if they didn't think we could beat this."
"Since when are you Mr. Support-O-Matic? I thought that was my job." I feel bad that I wasn't actually thinking about Connor-- I feel selfish. I was thinking about me. I thought I grew out of that a long time ago…
"Yeah well, you don't have to be strong in front of me. This is ME we're talking about. You don't need the walls." What is it with him and metaphors. Walls. Tunnels. He needs a few lessons in Tactless Conversation. It'd make it a whole lot easier to follow him.
"What do you mean? I have to be strong, I'm not gonna sit here and be a cheap knock-off version of a CryBuffy! Gotta grab the bull by the balls and handle the situation." Oops. That slipped out a little harsher than even I would have liked. Damn me for bringing up Buffy, now he's gonna go feel guilty about leaving her and dish himself a double-scoop of Brood.
"You don't have to with me, Cordy. I WANT to be the strong one for us." Us? Again with the confusion. Hey, he forgot to Brood about Buffy! That's it, my world has definitely been replaced by some freakish parallel world where Little-Miss-Likes-To-Fight isn't the center of everyone's universe.
"You want to know what I'm worried about? What I was really thinking about?" I pull my hand out of his and fold them together in my lap.
He nods when I look up at him. "I was thinking about Wesley." Ok, not a total lie. I WAS thinking about Wes. Well, I was about five minutes ago. "Before you go all 'grr' let me explain." I stop him with a wave of my not- so-well manicured hand before he has a chance to open his mouth, but I can see that he REALLY wants to say something.
"We need him here, Angel. I mean look at us!" I emphasize my point by sweeping my gaze across the lobby.
Lorne and Gunn sitting on the round sofa, alternating between taking bites of cold pizza and ripping through pages and pages of notes.
Fred laying on her stomach a few feet away from me, managing to furiously flip through a book and look something up on the internet at the same time.
Groo at the counter, rummaging through his own book.
"We're tired, Angel. And… tired. Maybe some more tired, and on TOP of that, we're not getting ANYWHERE. We need him here."
I look back at him, and his expression is completely unreadable.
"No."
"What do you mean, NO?! How can you say that?" I'm struggling to keep my voice down so I don't draw attention to our very touchy conversation.
He must have been reading my thoughts because he gets up abruptly, pulling me with him.
"Hey!"
"Come on." He grabs my arm--hard-- and pulls me into Wes' office. Well, what used to be his office. The guys kinda unanimously voted on giving Wes the boot without even consulting me first.
He closes the door, a bit harder than I think he meant to, and I can just imagine what everyone's thinking outside. I yank my arm out of his grasp, practically yelping out in pain. "Ouch! You big bully, that hurt!"
"Sorry." His voice is flat, emotionless. He's too pissed to care about how he grabbed me.
"Whatever." I wave it off, before rubbing my right arm. Oh yeah, that'll bruise for sure. "Why don't you want him to help."
"Because."
"That's not an answer, Angel." I'm glaring daggers at him now. I'll win this fight. If I have to beat him into submission, I will.
"It is for me." He leans back against the desk and crosses his arms. Yeah, like pouting like a big 'ol baby is going to get you out of this conversation.
"I don't think so, Pouty Pants. We need to talk about this." I mimic him and cross my arms over my own chest, eyebrow raised.
"No we don't need to talk about this. And you know damn well why he's not to be involved. It's because of HIM that this happened in the first place." He's gritting his teeth, trying really hard not to yell at me. I could care less, he can yell and pout all he wants, but it's not going to diminish the truth of the situation. We need Wes' expertise and he knows it. He just doesn't want to get past his anger to see it.
"Yeah, and? He knows that. Which is another reason why he SHOULD be here helping us. He needs to help fix this."
"He doesn't deserve a chance to fix it. He betrayed me—betrayed YOU. The GROUP. And he attacked Lorne."
"Lorne'll get over it. Hell, Lorne IS over it. He was the one talking sense into ME when I wanted to rip Wes' head off!"
"I'm in charge here, and I'm saying no." Ah, I know what that is. That's the I'm-the-boss-and-what-I-say-goes tone. Too bad no one voted you into office, El Presidenté. So far I've been the one handling the situation with any kind of mental and emotional clarity.
"You know what? You are such a hypocrite!" I step forward and jab my finger into his chest.
"What?!" He moves to brush my hand away, but I drop it first.
"Here you are working for redemption for the buttloads of people Angelus killed and you're not willing to let Wes have the same chance?! I'd say that's a damn good definition of a hypocrite!"
Maybe I pushed my luck a bit far, because his eyes go completely cold. I'm just batting a thousand today with the tortured-past insults. First Buffy, now Angelus. He doesn't say anything to me, just looks. With dead eyes… Well, dead-er eyes than normal. Great way to win an argument, Cor.
I sigh and close my eyes.
Count to three and try again. One… two… three... I open my eyes and he's still staring at me.
"Angel, I'm sorry. I just… I didn't really mean that, but you've got to think about this. Please?" Time for Grovel-y Cordy to make her grand entrance. So I step toward him and put my hands on his arms.
"But, he's my baby, Cordy. Wes put him in so much danger. How do I forgive him for that?" His eyes have softened a bit, and his voice is little over a whisper.
"I never said you had to forgive him… right away or ever. I want Connor back as much as you do, and Wes does this research and theory mumbo-jumbo better than all of us."
He unfolds his arms and traces his fingers along the reddened area on my arm. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean to."
"You're sorry, I'm sorry. We're even. So, let's go kidnap our ex-Watcher shall we?" I smile at him so he knows I mean it, but his frown just grows even deeper.
"Fine. We'll do this your way… But it doesn't mean I have to like it." He sighs, for what reason I'm not so sure. Vampires don't breathe, but who am I to question.
==++==++==++==++==++==
"I'm so nervous! I haven't seen Wes since we took him to the hospital. What if he doesn't listen? What if he doesn't want to help? What if--"
"No more 'what ifs', Fred. I've already driven myself up the proverbial wall over all those. IF he doesn't come quietly, we'll have to use tough love." I glance over at her in the passenger seat of Angel's car. "You wanted to come, please don't get cold feet on me now."
"No, no. I'm coming. It's just, it's like this one time in sixth grade when my mom wanted me to wear this flowery dress for picture day and it was so ugly, and I didn't want to wear it. But I wore it." Fred rambled as she got out of the car and I followed suit, slamming the door shut and tucking the keys into my jeans pocket.
I've completely given up on trying to make sense out of Fred's stories so I stay quiet as we walk through the parking lot to the hospital.
I'm desperately trying to think of what to say to get him to come home with us, but my mind's only drawing a big donut hole. Guess I'll just have to wing it.
We pass by the nurses' station and I see Missy sitting behind the counter. She glances up at us, and smiles warily at me as we turn the corner. Guess I left an impression, huh? She probably won't forget Queen C for a long time to come.
"Wait." Fred grabs my arm just as I'm about to open the door to his room. "I'm scared."
"Why? It's just Wes, Fred." I look back at her and her hand is shaking as she pulls it back.
"What am I supposed to say? What do I do? I mean, I'm still mad at him, but I don't want him to think I hate him. What if he hates me?"
"He doesn't hate any of us. I promise you. Just be Fred." I smile at her as I open the door and walk through, Fred trailing right behind me.
"I thought I told you to stay away." Wes glances over his shoulder before turning away and sliding on his jacket.
"Since when do I ever listen to you?" My vain attempt at lightening the immediate tension in the room completely falters.
"I can't help you."
His back still to us, he busies himself with stuffing his belongings into the duffelbag I'd brought him the day he told me not to visit him anymore.
"Yes you can, Wes. We need you." Fred piped up from behind me, and I see Wes stiffen at the sound of her voice. He must not have seen her when we came in.
"You don't understand."
"What's to understand?" Fred finds some sort of long-lost confidence and pushes past me and storms right up next to Wes. "We can't find Connor without you. You HAVE to help us."
He's quiet for a long moment, then turns to face her before he speaks. His cold voice completely betrayed his face. I'm shocked to see tears running down his cheeks.
"I'll fail. I can't let you down like that again." He's finished throwing his clothes into the bag and swings it over his shoulder. Now I can see the white bandage and gauze wrapped around his neck. He doesn't seem fazed by it at all.
"It was a mistake, it happens to everyone." Fred places her hand on his arm to console him and looks into his eyes, tears now shining brightly in her own. "Please?"
==++==++==++==++==++==
"The beginning will bring the end." Wes leans back in his chair, obviously running all the information through his overloaded brain. "The beginning of what? That is the key to unlocking the puzzle, I am certain. That is what we should focus on."
"Damn visions. They're so freakin' vague. Kinda ironic how the longest vision of my life is the one that's as easy to solve as a Rubix Cube. Gimme more to work with people!" I tilt my head back and yell at the ceiling.
Wes takes off his glasses and rubs at his pale face. "So we know Acathla has something to do with this. Doyle obviously made it a point to emphasize that. What did he say during the battle between Buffy and Angelus?"
"He said, uh, timing is everything. He said the first time Sahjhan tried to stop Angel's soul from re-entering his body, he was too late." I scrunch my face in concentration. I think my hard drive is running out of memory with all these visions taking up space in my head. Sometimes it's hard to tell one from another after a while.
"Is that all?" He leans forward in his seat, replacing his glasses.
"No… I…can't remember now." I sigh in defeat. We've been going through the vision for hours and I can't remember any more details. It doesn't help that Lorne is gone, and Angel's been acting like Charlie Chaplin. Except less bumbling over himself, and more of the not talking.
"He said Sahjhan went back again and made it in time to stop the soul." Angel steps out of the corner of the office and looks straight at Wes, who immediately averts his gaze.
"Divergentverse." Fred mumbled.
"What did you say Fred?" Wes' head shot in her direction before he winced in pain and grabbed his neck.
"From there Sahjhan changed the future. The realities diverged. A divergentverse." She spoke up louder this time, flicking her gaze between me, Wes and Angel.
"Yes, yes. The realities split. A new one was created." Wes busies himself again with scribbling more chicken-scratch on a notepad on the desk, and I'm left partially lost.
"Now, what does this have to do with Angel? That's what I don't understand." I say.
"You heard what Doyle said. Sahjhan's crazy. He's out for revenge. I killed- - I mean, Angelus killed his mate."
"New. Beginning. New. The beginning will bring the end. Do you think that means the beginning of the divergentverse?" Fred shoots forward in her seat, getting her own 'Eureka!' moment.
"It is possible. I believe you are on to something, Fred." Wes smiles at her slightly before writing it down.
"It's all we have to go on. I say we take that ball and run. But that leaves the big 'ol honkin' question of where specifically the beginning is."
"Of course, Cordy. We still need to figure that out--"
Angel cuts Wes off, "The mansion. Where else would the beginning be? That's where the universes 'diverged' isn't it?"
"Of course. We need to go back to the beginning of that universe to bring an end to it." Wes leans back again, obvious pride on his face at the way we're working together. I'm totally with him on that too. Although Angel's been less than forthcoming with conversation directed at Wes, I think he was expecting much worse.
"But what about Connor? You said that Doyle said he was there, and he was safe, right? So how do we get him back?" Fred's voice gets a panicked edge to it as she talks.
"We will have to figure that out, but for now, at least we have some leads. I'll need to do more research, but maybe we can get into that other universe somehow and get Connor out. For now, I think we all need to take a break. Cordy, Angel, Fred. You look exhausted. You should rest, I'll keep looking and I will let you know if I find anything. We'll also need to discuss later, making arrangements to return to Sunnydale."
"Yeah. We'll talk about Sunnydale later." Oh, I'm so not loving this more and more. Sunnydale is like adding salt to an open wound. Except that it's hurts ten times as much, and I'm not the only one with the bad memories.
Wes and I share a quick look before I get out of my chair. It's obvious he's not liking the idea of a trip down memory lane any more than I am.
==++==++==++==++==++==
"What are you thinking?" I tear my gaze away from the passing landscape and look at Angel, sitting behind the wheel of the convertible. His gaze shifts back and forth between me and the road a few times before I organize my thoughts enough to speak.
"Just about how much I really don't want to be in Sunnydale."
"I know, but--"
"It's the only way. I'm aware of that. I'm also aware that half of our group doesn't exactly have fond memories of the Hellmouth and its occupants." I spare a glance into the backseat to look at Wesley. He's staring up at the night sky, while Lorne and Groo are talking about Pylea.
I look back at Angel and continue my thought, "But, we're here for Connor and right now that's more important than a trip down memory lane."
"You amaze me, you know that?" He turns his head to look at me, a slight smile on his face, before tearing his eyes away to look at the road. "You also annoy the hell out of me, but that's also part of what I love about you."
Did he just say what I thought he said? I shake my head and gawk at him. No, my ears aren't playing tricks on me. He said it. The smile and the invisible blush (which would be visible if he were alive) tell me I DEFINITELY heard him right.
I'm about to say something when Lorne pokes his head between us. Oh of all the crappy timing…
"So Sugarcakes, how far have we got? Your old pal Groo here is killin' me with the bedtime stories of decapitation and evisceration."
"Yeah, he tends to go overboard with the share-time, doesn't he… Relax, it's only another 15 minutes." I give Lorne an I-feel-your-pain smile, before he turns to Angel. I could barely hear what he was saying over the roar of the highway.
"I think you should talk to him, Bumpkins. Might alleviate some of the tension." Lorne pats him on the shoulder before slumping back into his seat to get another ear-full of Groo's stories.
All Angel does is look at me, unfortunately it's a look that I can't quite read. I think it's somewhere between anger and pain but I'm not sure.
The rest of the drive was made in uncomfortable silence. We passed the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign and I stuck my tongue out at it. Not very lady- like but at least it made me feel better. That is, until we started passing places I remembered. The Espresso Pump, the school, or what's left of it anyway. All of it took me back to a time I'd rather not remember. I don't want to have to think about who I was when I lived here.
It took me a long time to get away from that girl.
Though sometimes I miss the innocence I used to have. Not having to worry about demons on my way to the mall—just about finding a close parking space so I wouldn't wear out my brand new Prada heels.
Sometimes I miss it… Sometimes.
But then all I have to do is look at my family; Angel, Connor, Wes, Fred, Gunn, even Lorne. I look at them and suddenly I don't miss it a bit.
I must've completely been in La-La-Land because I don't realize that we've stopped until I hear Angel shutting the engine off. I shake away my thoughts and memories and get out of the car. I stretch my back, working out all the kinks from the 2-hour drive, and gaze up at the mansion. It looks a lot gloomier at night now, than it did in my vision.
As I'm walking around to the other side of the car, two headlights blind me coming up the driveway.
Fred and Gunn rode in his pick-up, and I see them hop out of the massive behemoth of a truck.
"So, this is it, huh? Nice diggs." Gunn strolls right past Wes to stand by Angel, who's been staring blankly at the mansion since he got out of the car. Leave it to the PTB to bring us to a place where Angel will feel right at home brooding in.
"Yeah. You guys go on inside, I'll be there in a minute." Angel looks at Gunn for a second before turning to me and Wes. Without another word, everyone slowly makes their way up the rest of the driveway and into the darkened house. I go to walk away too, knowing that this is where Angel is supposed to hash it out with Wes, but he stops me with a look in my direction.
Wes actually looks frightened by whatever he assumes Angel is going to say, but he stands his ground, books in hand, waiting for the first blow.
"I didn't want you here, Wes. But… Cordy has a way of, well, getting her way. And she was also half-right about giving you a chance. Even if we get Connor back, I don't know if I'll ever forgive you, but I have to give you the chance. Or else I WOULD be a hypocrite." His voice is low, but full of hurt, not anger, and he looks at me with a silent 'thank you' in his eyes. I guess my little angry slip-up did make a difference.
"Truth be told, I didn't want to be here, either. But, Cordy does have her way." He gives me a quick glance and a small smile, and continues, "I just hope we will figure this out and get your son back, Angel. I truly AM sorry for what happened. You must know that."
Angel hesitates a second before speaking. "Let's just get inside."
Well, not exactly what I was hoping to hear from him, but I'm glad he at least talked to Wes.
That's the first step of many, I hope. Even if it WAS only a baby step, I think Wes appreciated the gesture.
I smile at no one in particular, and follow Angel and Wes up the drive and into the looming mansion to meet up with the rest of the group.
==++==++==++==++==
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Oh, last note. Tigerwolf will, from now on, be posting under the pen-name Angel-4-ever just so you're not confused. If you have any questions as to why, see her profile. Ciao.