Angel excused himself to go get Connor a fresh jumper thereby
removing himself from the conversation, as he had done every time
Wesley's name was mentioned in recent history. Doyle just stared at
the two girls in confusion, Cordelia fuming silently and Fred sulking
quietly.
"Somebody want to tell me who Wesley is?" He finally asked, breaking the strained silence. Cordelia snorted. "Well you know, if somebody hadn't been stupid enough to play hero and gotten himself killed and not been dead for the last two years he'd know." Fred blinked owlishly at Doyle before turning to Cordelia. "Is there anyone y'all know who hasn't been dead at least once?" she asked. Cordy sighed heavily and handed the phone to Fred. "Call Gunn and let him know about Connor would you? I'll explain to Doyle about.everything."
"Starting with who's Wesley." Doyle insisted as he allowed Cordelia to drag him off towards the old check in counter. "Right after you tell me the real story of what happened in Quor-toth. Oh and how about how you got this!" She scolded, poking him in the side and watching him wince before pulling up the tail of his shirt to expose the badly bandaged gash on his stomach he'd been favouring all night.
"How'd you know?" Doyle groused, while Cordelia set about collecting gauze and antiseptic from behind the counter.
"You pulled back a little when I hugged you earlier and you've had your arm crossed over it for the last half hour." She explained nonchalantly as she took a two by four soaked in alcohol to the wound. He hissed, stomach muscles contracting at the sting of the alcohol penetrating his wound. "Woulda left it to fester, gotten gangrene and died on me again." She grumbled, swiping away the dried blood.
"I'm sorry?" Doyle offered tentatively.
"Yeah, I bet you are." Cordy complained as she began to wind the gauze around his abdomen after taping a two by four over the largest part of the gash. "Cordelia." His tone was serious now as his fingers tilted her gaze up to meet his. "It was something I had to do." "I know." She replied quietly, a hint of tears in her voice. "I just. missed you." She whispered, biting her lower lip, still holding back the tears after two long years. "Delia." he murmured, cupping her chin with his palm and running his thumb softly along her cheekbone. She raised hurt hazel orbs to meet his aqua ones.
Their moment was broken by the ringing of the phone almost glad for the interruption Cordy quickly shied out of his grasp and headed over to the desk. "Guess tonight was destined to be an up all night kind regardless." She said flashing him a bright Queen C smile as she picked up the receiver. He could practically see her walls slamming back up, as she turned stiffened shoulders away from him.
"Angel investigations, we help the helpless." Cordy greeted cheerily, eyeing Fred who was babbling to Gunn on her cell-phone a few feet away. If ever there were a competitor for Willow in the babbling championships.
"Is there a Mr. Geraldo Angel there?" The too calm voice on the other end of the line asked politely. Cordy felt her heart speed up, doctor. She could practically smell the disinfectant and rubbing alcohol over the phone line. "He's unavailable at the moment, can I help you?" The voice sighed. "Perhaps.do you know where I could reach a Cordelia Chase?" "This is Cordelia Chase." She replied, turning away from Doyle's scrutinizing gaze.
Cordy could almost hear the smile of relief. "Ms. Chase, a Wesley Wyndham Price was brought into St. Luke's about half an hour ago. You were listed under next of kin along with Mr. Angel."
"Wesley." She murmured, catching Fred and Doyle's attention. "What happened to him?" She demanded, worry flooding through her veins. Traitor or not he was still Wesley. Dopey, dorky, bookish Wesley and pissed at him as she was she didn't actively want him DEAD...
"Earlier this evening the police were called to the address of an abandoned post office on the tip that someone was breaking in. They investigated and found Mr. Wyndham Price in the basement of the place, looked like he'd been thrown against the wall by something excuse me, someone large among other things. His paperwork finally transferred here from Drew Medical about ten minutes ago. According to his files, both his parents live in England and we may need consent to operate if things aren't looking up in a few hours. Could you or Mr. Angel come down to the hospital as soon as possible?"
Cordy sighed tiredly and nodded. "We'll be there in half an hour." She replied then replaced the phone in its cradle. Dropping her head to her chest, she took several deep breaths trying to steady herself for what was to come.
Author's Notes: Okay guys I really don't know what should happen next so suggestions would be nice and also if you could tell me what you DON'T like about it, that'd be helpful too. Is everybody in character? Is anybody still reading this? Let me know please!
"Somebody want to tell me who Wesley is?" He finally asked, breaking the strained silence. Cordelia snorted. "Well you know, if somebody hadn't been stupid enough to play hero and gotten himself killed and not been dead for the last two years he'd know." Fred blinked owlishly at Doyle before turning to Cordelia. "Is there anyone y'all know who hasn't been dead at least once?" she asked. Cordy sighed heavily and handed the phone to Fred. "Call Gunn and let him know about Connor would you? I'll explain to Doyle about.everything."
"Starting with who's Wesley." Doyle insisted as he allowed Cordelia to drag him off towards the old check in counter. "Right after you tell me the real story of what happened in Quor-toth. Oh and how about how you got this!" She scolded, poking him in the side and watching him wince before pulling up the tail of his shirt to expose the badly bandaged gash on his stomach he'd been favouring all night.
"How'd you know?" Doyle groused, while Cordelia set about collecting gauze and antiseptic from behind the counter.
"You pulled back a little when I hugged you earlier and you've had your arm crossed over it for the last half hour." She explained nonchalantly as she took a two by four soaked in alcohol to the wound. He hissed, stomach muscles contracting at the sting of the alcohol penetrating his wound. "Woulda left it to fester, gotten gangrene and died on me again." She grumbled, swiping away the dried blood.
"I'm sorry?" Doyle offered tentatively.
"Yeah, I bet you are." Cordy complained as she began to wind the gauze around his abdomen after taping a two by four over the largest part of the gash. "Cordelia." His tone was serious now as his fingers tilted her gaze up to meet his. "It was something I had to do." "I know." She replied quietly, a hint of tears in her voice. "I just. missed you." She whispered, biting her lower lip, still holding back the tears after two long years. "Delia." he murmured, cupping her chin with his palm and running his thumb softly along her cheekbone. She raised hurt hazel orbs to meet his aqua ones.
Their moment was broken by the ringing of the phone almost glad for the interruption Cordy quickly shied out of his grasp and headed over to the desk. "Guess tonight was destined to be an up all night kind regardless." She said flashing him a bright Queen C smile as she picked up the receiver. He could practically see her walls slamming back up, as she turned stiffened shoulders away from him.
"Angel investigations, we help the helpless." Cordy greeted cheerily, eyeing Fred who was babbling to Gunn on her cell-phone a few feet away. If ever there were a competitor for Willow in the babbling championships.
"Is there a Mr. Geraldo Angel there?" The too calm voice on the other end of the line asked politely. Cordy felt her heart speed up, doctor. She could practically smell the disinfectant and rubbing alcohol over the phone line. "He's unavailable at the moment, can I help you?" The voice sighed. "Perhaps.do you know where I could reach a Cordelia Chase?" "This is Cordelia Chase." She replied, turning away from Doyle's scrutinizing gaze.
Cordy could almost hear the smile of relief. "Ms. Chase, a Wesley Wyndham Price was brought into St. Luke's about half an hour ago. You were listed under next of kin along with Mr. Angel."
"Wesley." She murmured, catching Fred and Doyle's attention. "What happened to him?" She demanded, worry flooding through her veins. Traitor or not he was still Wesley. Dopey, dorky, bookish Wesley and pissed at him as she was she didn't actively want him DEAD...
"Earlier this evening the police were called to the address of an abandoned post office on the tip that someone was breaking in. They investigated and found Mr. Wyndham Price in the basement of the place, looked like he'd been thrown against the wall by something excuse me, someone large among other things. His paperwork finally transferred here from Drew Medical about ten minutes ago. According to his files, both his parents live in England and we may need consent to operate if things aren't looking up in a few hours. Could you or Mr. Angel come down to the hospital as soon as possible?"
Cordy sighed tiredly and nodded. "We'll be there in half an hour." She replied then replaced the phone in its cradle. Dropping her head to her chest, she took several deep breaths trying to steady herself for what was to come.
Author's Notes: Okay guys I really don't know what should happen next so suggestions would be nice and also if you could tell me what you DON'T like about it, that'd be helpful too. Is everybody in character? Is anybody still reading this? Let me know please!