Title: Loose Ends
Author: Jane McCartney
Disclaimer: All the characters you recognize belong to Joss & co. (all hail the crackhead). I'm just fooling around with his universe, with no intention of making money or anything.
Classification: Buffy-Angel crossover
Rating: PG
Feedback: Yes, please! Doesn't everyone want it?
Email: janemccartney@bol.com.br
Distribution: Anywhere, I don't mind, just credit me and inform me where it's at.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Theo, who actually made this project a viable one with his amazing and wonderful work - I'm truly grateful for your help with the English grammar and all the necessary adaptations. You're my savior.
Note: This is my very first attempt at fan fiction, and English is definitely not my native language, so I'd be happy if you guys didn't go too hard on me - please. I'm just doing the best I can here.
Summary: [Buffy-Angel Crossover] Xander shows up in Los Angeles, and brings with him a secret that'll lead him into dangerous territory. Can he cope with that? And his friends, will they be there for him?
***
Dr. Michael Penn carelessly bumped against one of the gurneys in the ER of St. Matthew's Hospital, on his way out of the area. His shift had already ended almost half an hour previously, but he'd gotten stuck with stitching up a middle-aged Elvis impersonator, who'd been hurt at a fan's convention by another fake Elvis' guitar.
Not to mention the fact he'd also suffered through a boring story of a cat- fight for first prize in a swim-suit contest, a piece of gossip that Michael hadn't really paid any particular attention to.
Boring was definitely the key word for what had happened at work that day.
The sandy-haired young doctor hadn't had any really interesting cases, though there had been this little girl with a low-grade, easily treatable fever and some distinct flu-like symptoms, who'd vomited all over his high- priced clothes.
It wasn't that he didn't like children. He did. A lot.
Michael Penn even wished he had a healthy little boy to play football with, or baseball; perhaps along with a little princess to spoil with toy castles, and the most beautiful Barbie dolls money could buy.
Yes, Dr. Penn pretty much loved children.
He just didn't like having to clean their regurgitated breakfast off of his brand-new Armani suit.
But apart from that little incident, Michael had gotten only genuine hospital cases and handled them all just fine.
A few fractures, light concussions, a broken ankle and that fat and annoying Elvis.
No auto accident victims, drive-by shootings or even ordinary blood-drained corpses with the strange twin marks on their necks or wrists.
Go figure today's odd trademarks from L.A.'s screw-up gangs...
Entering an examining room, the young doctor shoved a short lock of sandy hair behind his ears, engaging in a brief yawn during the process. He quickly lifted his left hand up and covered his mouth, just for appearance's sake; but a moment later a half-smile appeared on his lips, as he'd noticed the pointlessness of doing that, there being no one in the examining room but him.
Sitting on the couch, Michael tried to review some of the patients' files for that day, but his tired eyes weren't exactly collaborating with him at the moment.
The naughty bastards just wouldn't stay wide open, so that he'd be able to finish the job.
The doctor then murmured a "Whatever," quitting his half-hearted fight against his brain's urges to lean his head onto the couch's pillow, and engage in a much-needed hour of sleep.
It was a fight really not worth trying to win.
Before Michael Penn could notice, his body was engaged in full-sleep mode with his head resting against one of his forearms.
Tic, tac, tic, tac, tic, tac.
"Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!"
Damn beeper! the lanky sandy-haired man thought, while a sudden wave of annoyance passed freely through his dozy mind. Can't I get one freaking minute of sleep without the damn thing going off? My shift was over a century ago, for God's sake!
A twenty-something nurse, who had the longest curly blonde hair Michael had ever seen plus a set of glasses hiding her naturally wide ocean-green eyes under its thick lenses, opened the door with an unusual strength for her apparently petite body.
The blue-eyed doctor cursed under his breath, though he was quickly up off of the hospital couch and rubbing his sleepy eyes, trying to wake up properly.
"We've got an emergency, we need you in the ER!" the slim woman practically yelled, immediately leaving the examining room with heavy and fast steps, never turning back to confirm that Michael was actually following her.
"Oh, like that's news," the young doctor shrugged in obvious sarcasm.
Michael sighed, and groggily directed himself to the emergency room. If he was lucky, perhaps he'd get something more interesting than a disgusting fat man with a sparkling 50's style suit.
But then the almost hysterical voice of another nurse finally woke Michael Penn up to complete awareness, and brought the sandy-haired young man out of his drowsy state.
"BP's 140 over 90, she's lost at least two pints of blood, pupils are reactive but we still can't control the damn convulsions! Abdomen perforated possibly with a rusted object, we can't tell yet if her kidney was affected, but the inner bleeding's still going full-force!"
Someone in the background lamented about today's violence, and how sad it was that such a beautiful girl had been dragged into such a terrible situation. The blonde nurse with curly hair literally threw the patient's chart into his hands, quickly turning back and plunging a needle into the girl's left forearm.
"Here we go again," Michael sighed, his face sorrowfully turning into a shadow of its normal self; with an expression that was half-sadness, half- tiredness.
***
[ A few minutes earlier ]
Xander violently burst in through the ER's main door, with an unconscious Cordelia lying still in his arms.
The brunette's bloody abdomen was, if such a thing was possible, bleeding even harder, but her features looked somehow peaceful. Like she had already accepted her impending fate.
And Xander Harris hated that.
Cordelia had to be strong - strong, damn it; she had to make it. She can't just... she wouldn't...
Xander promptly swallowed his own words, before they could actually form any rational or influential thought in his mind; one that might finally destroy his nearly-shredded sanity, after the turbulent events of the nightmarish past few weeks.
The dark-haired young man shivered, just as this inadmissible idea passed vaguely through his utterly torn mind.
Cordelia Chase couldn't die.
She wouldn't.
He couldn't let that happen.
He wouldn't. No way in Hell...
"I need a doctor!" Xander's loud and rough cry for help quickly got everyone's attention, in the ER of St. Matthew's Hospital.
"She's been hurt, you gotta help her, she can't die!" the dark-haired boy's pleading voice made every patient, visitor or nurse's heart jump right into their mouths - just after it was broken into tiny, fragile little pieces.
A thin woman with long curly hair and heavy glasses practically jumped through the air over a stretcher in her way, and came to the young couple's side. Soon, other people who were also dressed as nurses took the brunette girl out of Xander's doubtful arms, and lifted her now-convulsing body carefully onto a nearby gurney.
The dark-haired young man's eyes were filled with a growing fear and he instinctively ran to the young woman's side, leaving just enough space for the hospital's nurses to work on his former girlfriend's gravely injured physique.
"Hang on, Cordy, please... oh God, don't you dare give up on me, c'mon, you gotta keep it together here," Xander's voice was pure misery, and his eyes were lost in an inner battle against feelings of guilt and concern.
A harsh hand fell onto his shoulder, but the prudent words mouthed by its owner were soft and sympathetic.
Although they didn't make him feel any better at all.
"Sir, you can't stay here," the female voice announced considerately.
In spite of the naturally chaotic ambience of the ER that's found in any genuine hospital anywhere in the world - cries of despair, laughs of joy, shrugs of sharp pain, sighs of relief and all other contradictory reactions that normally take place somewhere you could receive either the worst or best news of your life - despite all of that, an uncomfortable silence seemed to form around Xander, who ignored the jumbled sounds of background noise.
"Sir," the blonde nurse insisted. "Sir, I can't let you stay here."
"You've gotta help her," Xander retorted simply, his eyes never moving away from the brunette girl still bleeding profusely on the gurney.
"We will, we'll help her, just tell me what happened with as many details you can remember and let us do our job, okay?" the careful female voice softly explained.
Xander watched helplessly as the crew worked intensely on Cordelia, and nodded absent-mindedly.
Because inside Xander's head, it was mostly chaos.
He could barely remember killing the fourth demon in the hotel and taking a bleeding Cordelia carefully into his arms; his former girlfriend had then been brought to the nearest hospital by a car that Xander had stopped in the traffic. One he'd stopped by throwing his own body into the streets, and waiting for the first automobile to pass and help them.
Actually, Xander could barely remember anything right now. His memories of the previous hellish hours in Los Angeles were very confused and jumbled.
The cascade of incoherent thoughts easily reflected his torn state of mind, as he absent-mindedly nodded or shook his head to the nurse's multiple questions about the injured brunette girl.
Allergies. Blood type. UTI's previous visits. Any particular patient health problems.
Uh - yeah. I think. Maybe. AB-. I don't know.
Whatever. Just fix her.
"Is there any specific someone in Los Angeles to notify about your friend's situation? A person to call in case of emergency?"
God. I can't stand this anymore...
"Uh - I, I don't know. I don't think so, she - she doesn't know anyone in town," the dark-haired young man lied, with panicked features that none of his friends would have missed if they'd been at his side at that moment.
And it seemed that the blonde nurse hadn't exactly bought his story either.
"Are you sure?" she questioned him, a surprisingly rougher voice leaving her delicate body in a demanding tone.
To Xander's relief, a male nurse interrupted their conversation to give some information to the curly-haired nurse, who had introduced herself as Kelly Marshall. He left, and the slim woman turned her attention once again at Xander.
"Well, Mr..." Kelly's young features seemed slightly lost for a moment, and her thin eyebrows twisted in sudden doubt.
"Harris, Xander Harris," the time-traveller from the future promptly replied, regretting for a second that he had given his real name instead of a fake one.
As everything from the past can later be used against you, another lesson that the Hellmouth had obligated him to learn at the highest possible price.
Kelly's lips smiled a strangely saccharine smile, while her legs crossed into a more reserved position.
"Mr. Harris," the softness found in the nurse's voice made Xander a little more comfortable. "It seems that this isn't Ms. Chase's first visit to this hospital..."
She continued, "We've retrieved her file, and we'll try to contact her family. We'll also need you to be strong for her, OK? Do you think you can help us - and her?"
Xander diverted his eyes back to the gurney, where various members of the hospital's staff were still working on the seer's body.
"Is she going to make it?" the dark-haired young man managed to mumble somehow calmly, still focusing his fearful gaze on Cordelia's closed eyes.
"I don't know," Kelly replied honestly, finding it strangely difficult to lie or hide anything from that young man.
"Kelly! Kelly, we need you over here stat!" the same male nurse who had interrupted them earlier abruptly called for the young nurse, trying to hold the young seer's strongly convulsing body.
The nurse approached the gurney at a blinding run.
"Jesus, where's Dr. Penn? I thought you'd already paged him!" Kelly demanded.
"We did, we beeped him!" a voice answered loudly.
"I'll go find him," the nurse with long curly hair said, exchanging a brief glance with an obviously confused Xander before leaving the ER.
The dark-haired boy simply stood there, a disbelieving and scared look etched onto his features.
"Don't do this to me, Cordy," he pleaded with her, seeing a sandy-haired young man entering the ER and then quickly taking Cordelia's gurney away to the inner confines of the hospital.
A sudden memory of Sunnydale General's hospital morgue passed through Xander's mind.
God, I didn't think I could actually hate hospitals more than I already did...
This was all his fault.
Right, like that's not month-old news...
It was his fault.
She was suffering because of him.
It's all your fault for getting her involved, buddy boy...
And Xander hated that.
He hated having to see Cordelia in pain.
He hated having to be on this stupid mission.
But he was going to complete it.
For her.
For the world.
Well, it couldn't get any worse, right?
Obviously not... or so Xander Harris thought.
Destiny can be glimpsed through many shadowy masks, wearing many different disguises, and the eternal battle between good and evil was once again being fought with him as one important focus.
Xander had known and feared that his chances were rapidly running out.
But he could never have been prepared for what would come next.
***
"Crap," the beautiful brunette cursed, finding herself trapped in one of the many alleys of Los Angeles.
The large animal advanced slowly along the back street, and barked furiously. The young woman locked her dark eyes with the dog's ones, silently simulating a bark as well.
"Hey, puppy," she tentatively risked saying.
The infuriated barks got even louder and the dog clenched his teeth, growling viciously.
"OK, maybe you don't like to be called puppy," the attractive young woman reconsidered.
Approaching voices could be heard in the distance, and flashes of yellow light periodically swept a particular stretch of wall in the alley.
"Great, the cops are coming," the brunette sighed sarcastically.
"Look, Rex," she began. "I pretty much figure that, if I can handle a couple of nasty vampires blindfolded, or - or ugly demons with three heads trying to eat my goddamn brain for dinner, a simple dog won't be my greatest challenge. You can bet your ass on that."
The dog's growl lowered in volume, and the dark-haired animal stepped back.
"Ass, tail, whatever," she remarked.
The gorgeous brunette fearlessly came a few steps closer, and gazed intensely at the animal. "Now, be a good boy and let Aunt Faith save the world, OK?"
The dog stared at the girl silently and then whined harmlessly, raising his right paw up and rolling along the dirty pavement in a friendly way.
"Yeah, good boy," Faith said, pleased and running from the alley, avoiding the cops only by a matter of seconds.
The brunette Slayer stopped at some point, and permitted her body to lean against an occasional wall and her heart rate to recover its usual speed.
But the noise of sirens echoed loudly, and Faith found herself with the need to run once again to finish her prison escape safely - for now, at least.
Faith managed to find an abandoned building and a hiding place, in an old apartment closet. The first police officers on the scene tried to locate her; but all of them were unsuccessful in finding the escaped prisoner.
And, after a few hours of searching, they finally left the building - convinced that the young woman had once again managed to elude them, and was on the move.
Boy, I've definitely gotten rusty, the Slayer thought matter-of-factly.
Faith wandered for a few minutes throughout her hiding place to confirm that it was clear of cops, and then she found another closet - probably a teenager's one - with many clothes in its drawers.
The escapee picked out a set of black jeans and a white low-necklined top from its contents, and combined them with a pair of leather boots and jacket, pulling her long dark hair into a severe ponytail.
The beautiful brunette was then about to leave the abandoned apartment, when something suddenly caught her attention.
Apart from an unimportant missing fraction on the right hand corner, her image was being perfectly reflected from the dusty surface of an old but amazingly large mirror hanging on one of the walls.
The brunette Slayer came a few steps closer and rubbed her hand against the mirror, clearing away the dust at the height of her face. The young woman then maniacally grabbed a piece of something that had once been an expensive cashmere suit and continued to clean the mirror, till her reflection could be clearly seen on the polished surface.
Her inner feelings and thoughts were completely silenced for a second - in a mix of wonder, expectation and fear.
"I can be good again," the Slayer's voice was devoid of any trace of her former bitchy attitude, permitting a hopeful, almost intangible smile to illuminate her beautiful features.
Not for the first time, Faith wondered if she could ever be what she'd always wanted to be: happy.
Simply speaking, just happy.
Her first real attempt at the search for that unknown happiness had come with finally turning herself in. Going to jail and promising herself - as well as Angel, Buffy and the courts, all of them - to search and fill, or at least die trying to, that eternal hole in her soul.
Faith currently felt like she just didn't belong to this world, but now she had finally won her second chance - a second chance to prove that she can and will do the right thing, no matter what the price.
I'll have to be strong this time, she thought firmly. Strong like Buffy.
Strong like the way the world needed her to be.
Strong like she hoped she could truly be one day.
"Hold on, Xand-man, I'm almost with you," Faith whispered.
***
Author: Jane McCartney
Disclaimer: All the characters you recognize belong to Joss & co. (all hail the crackhead). I'm just fooling around with his universe, with no intention of making money or anything.
Classification: Buffy-Angel crossover
Rating: PG
Feedback: Yes, please! Doesn't everyone want it?
Email: janemccartney@bol.com.br
Distribution: Anywhere, I don't mind, just credit me and inform me where it's at.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Theo, who actually made this project a viable one with his amazing and wonderful work - I'm truly grateful for your help with the English grammar and all the necessary adaptations. You're my savior.
Note: This is my very first attempt at fan fiction, and English is definitely not my native language, so I'd be happy if you guys didn't go too hard on me - please. I'm just doing the best I can here.
Summary: [Buffy-Angel Crossover] Xander shows up in Los Angeles, and brings with him a secret that'll lead him into dangerous territory. Can he cope with that? And his friends, will they be there for him?
***
Dr. Michael Penn carelessly bumped against one of the gurneys in the ER of St. Matthew's Hospital, on his way out of the area. His shift had already ended almost half an hour previously, but he'd gotten stuck with stitching up a middle-aged Elvis impersonator, who'd been hurt at a fan's convention by another fake Elvis' guitar.
Not to mention the fact he'd also suffered through a boring story of a cat- fight for first prize in a swim-suit contest, a piece of gossip that Michael hadn't really paid any particular attention to.
Boring was definitely the key word for what had happened at work that day.
The sandy-haired young doctor hadn't had any really interesting cases, though there had been this little girl with a low-grade, easily treatable fever and some distinct flu-like symptoms, who'd vomited all over his high- priced clothes.
It wasn't that he didn't like children. He did. A lot.
Michael Penn even wished he had a healthy little boy to play football with, or baseball; perhaps along with a little princess to spoil with toy castles, and the most beautiful Barbie dolls money could buy.
Yes, Dr. Penn pretty much loved children.
He just didn't like having to clean their regurgitated breakfast off of his brand-new Armani suit.
But apart from that little incident, Michael had gotten only genuine hospital cases and handled them all just fine.
A few fractures, light concussions, a broken ankle and that fat and annoying Elvis.
No auto accident victims, drive-by shootings or even ordinary blood-drained corpses with the strange twin marks on their necks or wrists.
Go figure today's odd trademarks from L.A.'s screw-up gangs...
Entering an examining room, the young doctor shoved a short lock of sandy hair behind his ears, engaging in a brief yawn during the process. He quickly lifted his left hand up and covered his mouth, just for appearance's sake; but a moment later a half-smile appeared on his lips, as he'd noticed the pointlessness of doing that, there being no one in the examining room but him.
Sitting on the couch, Michael tried to review some of the patients' files for that day, but his tired eyes weren't exactly collaborating with him at the moment.
The naughty bastards just wouldn't stay wide open, so that he'd be able to finish the job.
The doctor then murmured a "Whatever," quitting his half-hearted fight against his brain's urges to lean his head onto the couch's pillow, and engage in a much-needed hour of sleep.
It was a fight really not worth trying to win.
Before Michael Penn could notice, his body was engaged in full-sleep mode with his head resting against one of his forearms.
Tic, tac, tic, tac, tic, tac.
"Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!"
Damn beeper! the lanky sandy-haired man thought, while a sudden wave of annoyance passed freely through his dozy mind. Can't I get one freaking minute of sleep without the damn thing going off? My shift was over a century ago, for God's sake!
A twenty-something nurse, who had the longest curly blonde hair Michael had ever seen plus a set of glasses hiding her naturally wide ocean-green eyes under its thick lenses, opened the door with an unusual strength for her apparently petite body.
The blue-eyed doctor cursed under his breath, though he was quickly up off of the hospital couch and rubbing his sleepy eyes, trying to wake up properly.
"We've got an emergency, we need you in the ER!" the slim woman practically yelled, immediately leaving the examining room with heavy and fast steps, never turning back to confirm that Michael was actually following her.
"Oh, like that's news," the young doctor shrugged in obvious sarcasm.
Michael sighed, and groggily directed himself to the emergency room. If he was lucky, perhaps he'd get something more interesting than a disgusting fat man with a sparkling 50's style suit.
But then the almost hysterical voice of another nurse finally woke Michael Penn up to complete awareness, and brought the sandy-haired young man out of his drowsy state.
"BP's 140 over 90, she's lost at least two pints of blood, pupils are reactive but we still can't control the damn convulsions! Abdomen perforated possibly with a rusted object, we can't tell yet if her kidney was affected, but the inner bleeding's still going full-force!"
Someone in the background lamented about today's violence, and how sad it was that such a beautiful girl had been dragged into such a terrible situation. The blonde nurse with curly hair literally threw the patient's chart into his hands, quickly turning back and plunging a needle into the girl's left forearm.
"Here we go again," Michael sighed, his face sorrowfully turning into a shadow of its normal self; with an expression that was half-sadness, half- tiredness.
***
[ A few minutes earlier ]
Xander violently burst in through the ER's main door, with an unconscious Cordelia lying still in his arms.
The brunette's bloody abdomen was, if such a thing was possible, bleeding even harder, but her features looked somehow peaceful. Like she had already accepted her impending fate.
And Xander Harris hated that.
Cordelia had to be strong - strong, damn it; she had to make it. She can't just... she wouldn't...
Xander promptly swallowed his own words, before they could actually form any rational or influential thought in his mind; one that might finally destroy his nearly-shredded sanity, after the turbulent events of the nightmarish past few weeks.
The dark-haired young man shivered, just as this inadmissible idea passed vaguely through his utterly torn mind.
Cordelia Chase couldn't die.
She wouldn't.
He couldn't let that happen.
He wouldn't. No way in Hell...
"I need a doctor!" Xander's loud and rough cry for help quickly got everyone's attention, in the ER of St. Matthew's Hospital.
"She's been hurt, you gotta help her, she can't die!" the dark-haired boy's pleading voice made every patient, visitor or nurse's heart jump right into their mouths - just after it was broken into tiny, fragile little pieces.
A thin woman with long curly hair and heavy glasses practically jumped through the air over a stretcher in her way, and came to the young couple's side. Soon, other people who were also dressed as nurses took the brunette girl out of Xander's doubtful arms, and lifted her now-convulsing body carefully onto a nearby gurney.
The dark-haired young man's eyes were filled with a growing fear and he instinctively ran to the young woman's side, leaving just enough space for the hospital's nurses to work on his former girlfriend's gravely injured physique.
"Hang on, Cordy, please... oh God, don't you dare give up on me, c'mon, you gotta keep it together here," Xander's voice was pure misery, and his eyes were lost in an inner battle against feelings of guilt and concern.
A harsh hand fell onto his shoulder, but the prudent words mouthed by its owner were soft and sympathetic.
Although they didn't make him feel any better at all.
"Sir, you can't stay here," the female voice announced considerately.
In spite of the naturally chaotic ambience of the ER that's found in any genuine hospital anywhere in the world - cries of despair, laughs of joy, shrugs of sharp pain, sighs of relief and all other contradictory reactions that normally take place somewhere you could receive either the worst or best news of your life - despite all of that, an uncomfortable silence seemed to form around Xander, who ignored the jumbled sounds of background noise.
"Sir," the blonde nurse insisted. "Sir, I can't let you stay here."
"You've gotta help her," Xander retorted simply, his eyes never moving away from the brunette girl still bleeding profusely on the gurney.
"We will, we'll help her, just tell me what happened with as many details you can remember and let us do our job, okay?" the careful female voice softly explained.
Xander watched helplessly as the crew worked intensely on Cordelia, and nodded absent-mindedly.
Because inside Xander's head, it was mostly chaos.
He could barely remember killing the fourth demon in the hotel and taking a bleeding Cordelia carefully into his arms; his former girlfriend had then been brought to the nearest hospital by a car that Xander had stopped in the traffic. One he'd stopped by throwing his own body into the streets, and waiting for the first automobile to pass and help them.
Actually, Xander could barely remember anything right now. His memories of the previous hellish hours in Los Angeles were very confused and jumbled.
The cascade of incoherent thoughts easily reflected his torn state of mind, as he absent-mindedly nodded or shook his head to the nurse's multiple questions about the injured brunette girl.
Allergies. Blood type. UTI's previous visits. Any particular patient health problems.
Uh - yeah. I think. Maybe. AB-. I don't know.
Whatever. Just fix her.
"Is there any specific someone in Los Angeles to notify about your friend's situation? A person to call in case of emergency?"
God. I can't stand this anymore...
"Uh - I, I don't know. I don't think so, she - she doesn't know anyone in town," the dark-haired young man lied, with panicked features that none of his friends would have missed if they'd been at his side at that moment.
And it seemed that the blonde nurse hadn't exactly bought his story either.
"Are you sure?" she questioned him, a surprisingly rougher voice leaving her delicate body in a demanding tone.
To Xander's relief, a male nurse interrupted their conversation to give some information to the curly-haired nurse, who had introduced herself as Kelly Marshall. He left, and the slim woman turned her attention once again at Xander.
"Well, Mr..." Kelly's young features seemed slightly lost for a moment, and her thin eyebrows twisted in sudden doubt.
"Harris, Xander Harris," the time-traveller from the future promptly replied, regretting for a second that he had given his real name instead of a fake one.
As everything from the past can later be used against you, another lesson that the Hellmouth had obligated him to learn at the highest possible price.
Kelly's lips smiled a strangely saccharine smile, while her legs crossed into a more reserved position.
"Mr. Harris," the softness found in the nurse's voice made Xander a little more comfortable. "It seems that this isn't Ms. Chase's first visit to this hospital..."
She continued, "We've retrieved her file, and we'll try to contact her family. We'll also need you to be strong for her, OK? Do you think you can help us - and her?"
Xander diverted his eyes back to the gurney, where various members of the hospital's staff were still working on the seer's body.
"Is she going to make it?" the dark-haired young man managed to mumble somehow calmly, still focusing his fearful gaze on Cordelia's closed eyes.
"I don't know," Kelly replied honestly, finding it strangely difficult to lie or hide anything from that young man.
"Kelly! Kelly, we need you over here stat!" the same male nurse who had interrupted them earlier abruptly called for the young nurse, trying to hold the young seer's strongly convulsing body.
The nurse approached the gurney at a blinding run.
"Jesus, where's Dr. Penn? I thought you'd already paged him!" Kelly demanded.
"We did, we beeped him!" a voice answered loudly.
"I'll go find him," the nurse with long curly hair said, exchanging a brief glance with an obviously confused Xander before leaving the ER.
The dark-haired boy simply stood there, a disbelieving and scared look etched onto his features.
"Don't do this to me, Cordy," he pleaded with her, seeing a sandy-haired young man entering the ER and then quickly taking Cordelia's gurney away to the inner confines of the hospital.
A sudden memory of Sunnydale General's hospital morgue passed through Xander's mind.
God, I didn't think I could actually hate hospitals more than I already did...
This was all his fault.
Right, like that's not month-old news...
It was his fault.
She was suffering because of him.
It's all your fault for getting her involved, buddy boy...
And Xander hated that.
He hated having to see Cordelia in pain.
He hated having to be on this stupid mission.
But he was going to complete it.
For her.
For the world.
Well, it couldn't get any worse, right?
Obviously not... or so Xander Harris thought.
Destiny can be glimpsed through many shadowy masks, wearing many different disguises, and the eternal battle between good and evil was once again being fought with him as one important focus.
Xander had known and feared that his chances were rapidly running out.
But he could never have been prepared for what would come next.
***
"Crap," the beautiful brunette cursed, finding herself trapped in one of the many alleys of Los Angeles.
The large animal advanced slowly along the back street, and barked furiously. The young woman locked her dark eyes with the dog's ones, silently simulating a bark as well.
"Hey, puppy," she tentatively risked saying.
The infuriated barks got even louder and the dog clenched his teeth, growling viciously.
"OK, maybe you don't like to be called puppy," the attractive young woman reconsidered.
Approaching voices could be heard in the distance, and flashes of yellow light periodically swept a particular stretch of wall in the alley.
"Great, the cops are coming," the brunette sighed sarcastically.
"Look, Rex," she began. "I pretty much figure that, if I can handle a couple of nasty vampires blindfolded, or - or ugly demons with three heads trying to eat my goddamn brain for dinner, a simple dog won't be my greatest challenge. You can bet your ass on that."
The dog's growl lowered in volume, and the dark-haired animal stepped back.
"Ass, tail, whatever," she remarked.
The gorgeous brunette fearlessly came a few steps closer, and gazed intensely at the animal. "Now, be a good boy and let Aunt Faith save the world, OK?"
The dog stared at the girl silently and then whined harmlessly, raising his right paw up and rolling along the dirty pavement in a friendly way.
"Yeah, good boy," Faith said, pleased and running from the alley, avoiding the cops only by a matter of seconds.
The brunette Slayer stopped at some point, and permitted her body to lean against an occasional wall and her heart rate to recover its usual speed.
But the noise of sirens echoed loudly, and Faith found herself with the need to run once again to finish her prison escape safely - for now, at least.
Faith managed to find an abandoned building and a hiding place, in an old apartment closet. The first police officers on the scene tried to locate her; but all of them were unsuccessful in finding the escaped prisoner.
And, after a few hours of searching, they finally left the building - convinced that the young woman had once again managed to elude them, and was on the move.
Boy, I've definitely gotten rusty, the Slayer thought matter-of-factly.
Faith wandered for a few minutes throughout her hiding place to confirm that it was clear of cops, and then she found another closet - probably a teenager's one - with many clothes in its drawers.
The escapee picked out a set of black jeans and a white low-necklined top from its contents, and combined them with a pair of leather boots and jacket, pulling her long dark hair into a severe ponytail.
The beautiful brunette was then about to leave the abandoned apartment, when something suddenly caught her attention.
Apart from an unimportant missing fraction on the right hand corner, her image was being perfectly reflected from the dusty surface of an old but amazingly large mirror hanging on one of the walls.
The brunette Slayer came a few steps closer and rubbed her hand against the mirror, clearing away the dust at the height of her face. The young woman then maniacally grabbed a piece of something that had once been an expensive cashmere suit and continued to clean the mirror, till her reflection could be clearly seen on the polished surface.
Her inner feelings and thoughts were completely silenced for a second - in a mix of wonder, expectation and fear.
"I can be good again," the Slayer's voice was devoid of any trace of her former bitchy attitude, permitting a hopeful, almost intangible smile to illuminate her beautiful features.
Not for the first time, Faith wondered if she could ever be what she'd always wanted to be: happy.
Simply speaking, just happy.
Her first real attempt at the search for that unknown happiness had come with finally turning herself in. Going to jail and promising herself - as well as Angel, Buffy and the courts, all of them - to search and fill, or at least die trying to, that eternal hole in her soul.
Faith currently felt like she just didn't belong to this world, but now she had finally won her second chance - a second chance to prove that she can and will do the right thing, no matter what the price.
I'll have to be strong this time, she thought firmly. Strong like Buffy.
Strong like the way the world needed her to be.
Strong like she hoped she could truly be one day.
"Hold on, Xand-man, I'm almost with you," Faith whispered.
***