Disclaimer: Like I said, if these guys belonged to me, do you really think they'd be running around in this twisted little story of mine instead of appearing on a screen near you? No, I didn't think so.
Feedback: Oooh, new reviewers! Hello, welcome to the backward world that exists in my head. And thanks to my beloved regulars, love ya all! Please please please keep writing to me, I get sad when I look in my inbox and I have no mail, it makes me feel unloved. * Sniff *
Did you like the little twist at the end of the last chapter? I wanted to get straight on with the Lilah bit in this chapter, but it felt too rushed, so you'll have to wait till next time. For now, here's unlucky number 13. Just to keep with the theme of superstition, the guys get a little ratty with each other. I hadn't really intended it, but it just sort of happened. Don't worry though, it's not too bad. Enjoy! :)
PART 13.
Lorne glanced at his watch and tapped a rhythm on the counter.
He was going to miss his facial appointment if the little bunch of troopers didn't show up soon. Still, he supposed that if the whole lot of them had gone out on another happy clappy daytrip already it must mean good news. Heck, he'd only shown up to wish a quick get-well-soon to keep up appearances. It wasn't that he didn't care; it's just that he was getting tired of always having to be the nice and friendly one. When was the last time anyone came by to ask him how his day had been?
Right, that's it. Leaving. Now.
Oh, maybe just a few more minutes, then. How could anyone stay angry at those cutie pies for long? Besides, he really did want to know what was happening. He'd gotten a good look inside that guy's head, and some of it wasn't pretty. Sigh. He worried too much.
Something pulled up close to the entrance and the sound of closing car doors rattled through the entrance glasswork.
It's about time. They're here at last.
The main lobby door made the usual quiet squeak as it opened, and a rather bedraggled Cordelia stepped through, holding it in place and sniffing back tears. The wave of grief and sorrow that swept over Lorne was almost enough to bowl him off his feet, and it took him a second or two to recover his senses and realise who else was contributing to it.
A flustered looking Angel shuffled his way in, practically radiating misplaced guilt and protective concern. His face showing nothing but grim determination, however, he was carefully guiding Wesley down the steps, holding him up when he stumbled. Wesley was in a very bad way, worse than earlier, by all accounts. Lorne didn't need to be psychic to know that something very bad had gone down, and he was grateful that he hadn't been there to see it.
"What in the name of all that is holy happened here? I leave you guys alone for five minutes and this is what you do to yourselves. And, by the way, try locking your doors, people. Anyone could just walk right in here and start redecorating or something, and we wouldn't want that."
Lorne's sarcasm didn't seem to be getting him noticed much, so he put a lid on it and waited for an explanation to appear. Maybe now wasn't quite the time for morale boosting. He stuck his hands in his bright red jacket pockets and watched as the door was pushed open again and the last of the party entered.
"OK, so there are a couple of steps now", Gunn patronised, "Take it real easy."
His charge didn't respond but allowed himself to be led down and into the hotel without so much as a flicker over his face.
"Well, if it isn't Lindsey! Hi there buddy, how's it goin'? Long time no see."
Gunn gave Lorne a warning look that told him now wasn't the time. He didn't push it and remained leant against the counter, wondering just what kind of evil fiend had put an anti-hospitality spell over them all. Talk about feeling unwelcome.
Angel had set Wesley down on the sofa, and Cordelia came hurrying across, the first aid kit under her arm. She set about patching up his head, holding thick bandages on and managing to finally stop the bleeding.
"What kind of big, slimy demon did that then?" Lorne asked, trying to persuade them to talk.
"That would be me", Angel answered, matter-of-factly, moving across the room to find a vacant space to pace. It wasn't the answer Lorne had expected, but, from the look on Angel's face, he decided it best not to ask him to elaborate.
Cordelia moved on to cleaning up some of the nastier injuries on Wesley's face, despite the added difficulty that he was slowly fighting a losing battle against unconsciousness.
"Just let me finish this and then you can go to sleep, OK?" Cordelia encouraged, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. She was no expert, and she was unsure of just how to deal with the situation by herself. She knew the symptoms of shock when she saw them, and she worried that she couldn't tell if it was serious enough to present a danger.
"He needs to go to the hospital", she stated suddenly, irritated by Angel's detached attitude, "He needs to see a doctor." She for one did not want to risk another life threatening situation, and the phrase 'better to be safe than sorry' kept wriggling across her mind.
Angel shook his head. "No, we're safer here. He'll be fine."
Something clicked inside her brain, and Cordelia was unable to hold back her anger anymore. The next stage of grief it may be, but she wasn't going to let Angel speak to her like that, like her opinion didn't count and that he knew better than anyone.
"Look at him", she snapped, "He's not fine."
The others in the room fell silent, and Lorne felt an argument coming on. With two adversaries with this calibre of personality, it could get nasty.
Angel turned to face her and tried his best with an understanding tone of voice. From the narrowing of Cordelia's eyes, however, Lorne could see that it wasn't going to rub.
"I know it's hard", he said, "but you have to trust me when I say that I think we're all better off here. I've seen and done a lot of…things…in my time, and I can tell you now that he'll be OK. He just needs some rest, that's all."
Cordelia stood from her seat in defiance and looked Angel coldly in the eye. All the tears were gone now, and there were no more threatening to well up. This was pure rage Cordelia style, and it left no room for sentimentality.
"You weren't here the last time", she bit, knowing that it would cut. "How could you possibly know anything about it? Me and Gunn, we had to do it all on our own. Have you any idea how scary that was? To know that there's not a damn thing you can do to help and that all that's left is to watch and wait, praying that the next breath won't be the last. To watch someone slipping away right before you and…" She stopped and bit her lip, pushing thoughts of Harris out of her mind.
Angel shuffled uneasily and Cordelia allowed herself a crack of a sardonic smile for a fraction of a second that said 'duh, vampire'. Angel's reaction suggested she had caused offence, and the disapproving frown returned to her face.
"I guess maybe you do know a little something about that. Oh, wait, except you didn't care at the time because you were enjoying it too much."
She turned and slumped back down next to Wesley, bringing her attention back to him. She felt satisfied now that she had vented a little, and chalked up a point up on her personal scoreboard. It was a terrible thing to think, she knew, and she'd feel as guilty as hell about it later, but he needed to hear it, and she had needed to clear the air.
Pretending to ignore him now, she couldn't help but feel his presence when he stepped up close behind her, balling his fists at his sides. His voice was measured under the strain of self-control, but she could still sense the growl behind it. She'd almost become accustomed to it, tuned in. They'd had enough arguments for her to recognise when he was truly hurt, and when he was just frustrated at her.
"We're not leaving here and that's final."
"Yeah? Well, since you're suddenly the new boss, give me one good reason why not?"
"I can give you two, actually. Firstly, I don't think taking Wesley anywhere where there's a lot of people and unsettling situations is such a good idea right now, and secondly, I don't think this is over. Call me overly suspicious, but I don't think Wolfram and Hart are going to let us walk away just like that, do you? Any chance to set this all off again and they'd take it, especially if it involves innocent people who are too sick to run away. You want to try thinking things through before you go making speeches about things you know nothing about."
With that, he spun on his heel and stormed his way upstairs, dragging a helpless Lindsey behind him.
Deciding that these two were going to need some serious make up time, Gunn reluctantly followed in the hope of preventing Angel from doing something he might regret when it came to caring for the ex-lawyer, and possibly in an attempt to talk some sense into the man for reconciliation.
Lorne stood back and watched them go, being sure to give the vampire plenty of room when he brushed past. He let the atmosphere settle for a while before approaching a fuming Cordelia, not willing to have to endure the lashing of the tail end of the dispute.
He went across and studied the pair now cuddled against the sofa, trying to think of the most appropriate things to say.
Come on Lorne, everyone knows what you're supposed to do. So whip out some of those pearls of wisdom already.
He took a deep breath and sat down beside them.
Luckily for him, it didn't look like Wesley had heard much of what had been said, and he was happily ignorant of all the hostile vibes currently thickening around the whole hotel. Lorne felt relieved that at least he would only have to concentrate his efforts on one person for now, as that usually made the whole process a lot easier.
"I know what you're going to say, and don't", Cordelia said, before he could begin. "You're going to give me the big 'you're both angry, it's been a stressful day' lecture and I don't want to hear it."
Lorne smiled at her warmly. "OK, pumpkin, I understand. But you're right, and you know that this isn't going to help any of you right now, especially Wesley here. If you did want my advice, and I know that you don't, I'd say you need to cool it for a little while, just until this is cleared up. I haven't heard the full story yet, but I'm guessing it hasn't been jello and ice cream for any of you. And judging from the serious mystical vibes practically leaking from over here", (he nodded in Wesley's direction), "I'm guessing it ain't gonna go away all that quickly either."
Cordelia fidgeted and curled some hair around her finger with a pout. Lorne softened his tone and lowered his head to where she had no choice but to look at him.
"I don't need you to sing to tell that you guys have some unsolved issues, but I also know that you care about each other, and that, deep down, you don't really mean any of it. It's good to get them out in the open, sweetheart, cuz pent up feelings are never a good thing, but why don't you try the soul searching and verbal bitch slapping some other time?"
Cordelia relented in her stony faced expression and gave Lorne a weak smile. She knew he'd make her listen whether she wanted to or not, so it was useless to try and resist. She decided against sitting there and feeling bitter towards Angel and got on with doing something useful.
"Can you go and fetch some water or something?" she asked Lorne in a much more amiable tone of voice. "If we have to stay here then Wesley needs to drink something. Something to do with extra fluids, I think. Oh, and grab that blanket over there. We have to keep him warm."
Lorne got to his feet with a grin. "I thought you'd never ask. I was getting worried that Wesley was going to have to get up and sort things out for himself!"
Cordelia blushed a little and put on a sheepish smile, annoyed all over again that her annoyance was being sucked away by the great big happy black hole that was The Host. Just when she really wanted to be angry with someone, he had to come along and spoil it all. She guessed that anger really wasn't going to bring Harris back after all, and she'd just have to deal with it. That didn't mean that Angel was 100% forgiven or anything though. He could have the silent treatment for a little while yet.
* * *
Having stomped up the staircase under a veritable storm cloud of bad feeling, Angel had proceeded to find Lindsey a spare room and had automatically begun cleaning him up with a mechanical indifference that spoke volumes to Gunn, the onlooker.
Gunn suspected that Angel was using this as a chance to sulk, slipping comfortably into brood mode in a transition that startled Gunn in the way that it just seemed so normal. On any other day, finding Angel in this silent state wouldn't have seemed odd in the slightest, and Gunn worried that he had used his habitual periods of withdrawal for this kind of purpose a little too often. No one noticed when he got upset about anything, because this is how he acted. It was a cover he used to shrug the things that bothered him off and close himself off to everyone else. Wasn't that how the whole Darla thing had started? Dwelling on bad feelings was a big nono when it came to Angel; they had all learnt that the hard way.
Granted, this was nowhere near as serious as that, but Gunn didn't want to let this go on unchecked, or it would be all the harder to repair the damage done in the meantime. He may not have known Cordelia for as long as Angel or Wesley, but he knew enough to guess that she wasn't the quick to apologise type. In her mind, Angel was in the wrong, and she'd hear nothing in his favour until he made some attempt to appease her.
This little argument wasn't just about what had happened today. It had touched on things they had all tried to bury since Angel's return to them, so it wasn't going to be easy. Old wounds that had never quite healed were being picked over and the shaky truce had been questioned. Even if they ended this with kisses and hugs, the after-effects would linger on, and Angel seemed to know it. He had been woken from the pretence that everything was back to normal and the same as it was before, and he obviously felt the need to rethink a few things.
Gunn had managed to summon up enough courage to speak by now, and he prepared himself for the harsh words he would receive for his efforts.
"You know she didn't really mean what she said, right?" OK, maybe a small lie at first, just to get him talking. Brace yourself.
Nothing. Angel ignored him.
Wow, now that he thought about it, not getting a reaction was worse than anything else he could have done. Should he leave it at that or go on? Urrgg, the indecision. Just how does Lorne do this for a living?
Not one for giving in without a fight, Gunn moved a bit closer for nag number two, only to pause when he noticed Angel tense up his back and slow down with his 'nursing'. Nervous that he had gone too far and that he had set Angel off on a shouting rant, Gunn waited to be told to get out. Instead, he turned his attention to the closed door when he heard what must have been Cordelia and Lorne make their way past with Wesley. When the noise died down along the corridor and he turned back, he saw that Angel had resumed his work with renewed force and roughness.
Grudgingly concerned for Lindsey's welfare, Gunn intervened, stopping Angel's actions with a gentle hand.
"Hey, why don't you let me do that?"
To his surprise, Angel put up no resistance and moved away, obviously accepting Gunn's good intentions. Lindsey didn't seem to care either way, staring straight ahead, as ever, with barely a blink. Despite having his face scrubbed clean and the cuts and scrapes tended, he still looked ill and like he hadn't seen a good meal in a while. Gunn wondered how long Wolfram and Hart had kept him like this, and what else they had done to him.
Angel sat on the end of the bed and scrutinised the wall opposite with eyes that would have withered any healthy pot plant unfortunate enough to exist within his plane of vision. Gunn frowned at him and shook his head as he moved on to Lindsey's hands. They had been badly injured during the fight, being used with a strength that was not Lindsey's own. Noticing some blood soaking through his shirt, Gunn examined a cut on Lindsey's arm that had managed to inscribe itself there sometime during the struggle.
Cleaning and binding it tightly, Gunn decided not to explore some of the other bruises and grazes that were revealing themselves when the clothing was pushed back, guessing that he probably wouldn't like what he found. He doubted that Lindsey would appreciate such intrusion anyway, and as he didn't appear to be suffering, he let it be.
Gunn swung Lindsey's legs up onto the bed and left him to stare himself to sleep. He didn't relish the idea of baby-sitting, and made a move for the door, motioning for Angel to follow. They were going to have that heart to heart talk whether he wanted it or not. Hiding from Cordelia up here wasn't going to do him any good, and Gunn was determined to nip this little feud in the bud.
"Come on Angel, let's go get you some blood. You look like you could use it."
For some reason that Gunn would rather not think about, the mention of food perked Angel up, and he silently consented, rising from his seat with purpose.
Despite the fact that he was running the risk of bumping into Cordelia on his way down, Angel was eager to get back down the lobby where he could keep an eye on the door. He couldn't explain it, but he had a feeling that something wasn't quite right, and that maybe complacency wasn't such a good idea just yet. Besides, he hadn't eaten for a while, and the events of the day had exhausted him. If he couldn't sleep, he could at least regain a little energy to liven himself up.
Without a second thought, he and Gunn left Lindsey alone in his room, closing the door behind them.
* * *
With Lorne's help, Cordelia had managed to get Wesley up to his room without too much trouble. To her relief, they had avoided another confrontation with Angel, and she was able to relax a little in the comparative safety of the second floor.
Wesley was sleeping soundly now, no doubt recovering from the day's events and the slight blood loss. Yawning widely, it was only when there was nothing pressing left to worry about that Cordelia realised just how tired she was. Lorne must have noticed it too, and he offered to stay with her and watch over them both as she got some rest.
She didn't refuse, and snuggled down on the duvet next to Wesley gratefully. She didn't want to think. Not about Harris, not about Angel, not even about Wesley anymore. She just wanted to shut her mind down and drift away, if only for a short while. It had all been too much for her, overwhelming her senses. She was weary, of body and of soul. But everything would be better later. It always was, wasn't it? If only she could just close her eyes…
She didn't realise just how easy it was for her to fall asleep. Before she knew it, she was lost in her own pleasant dream world, not even having time to thank Lorne for giving up his time.
Lorne watched her sleep, her breathing becoming deep and steady almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. He wanted to smile and feel content with the scene of peace before him. There always was something endearing about people when they were asleep. Their auras were at rest with them, and he had the chance to indulge his demon senses in little light reading. He could never see much, at least not compared to when people sang for him, but he got the occasional sneaky peek at some of their deepest thoughts, usually of something psychiatrists would call the inner-child. Sleep exposed an innocence that he found reassuring. It proved that even the most hardened individual had hope of salvation, and that mankind wasn't always as full of suffering and cruelty as it often seemed to be.
Lorne felt it and was pleased at what he saw. They were good people, and he hoped for great things to come. But he still couldn't feel completely at ease. Something was yet to come, he had seen as much on the night he was brought here to bring Wesley back from the dark. It unnerved him by the way he couldn't say for sure exactly what it was. Sometimes when he read people, he would pick up vague fragments of the bigger picture that left him unsure of how to interpret them. Of course, he would never mention aspects to his costumers that he could not understand himself. He would often tell them the things they wanted to hear without revealing too much.
It had been different this time, though. He had been loath to say much at all, knowing that the consequences would be dire. He'd had a niggling feeling when he'd left the other night, but now that he'd returned, seeing what had already transpired had refreshed his memory. He remembered everything he had seen, and he knew that there was more to tell. Something was coming, at this very moment; a messenger of bad news was on its way. It was the fate of every person in this building to be a part of the coming…whatever it was.
He worried for them, knowing that something like this was the last thing they needed right now. He had argued with himself about whether he should have said something, even though he wasn't sure himself what it was they needed to fear. Seeing them all in such a state had persuaded him against the idea, and for now, he would let them sleep. They would need it.
To be continued…
