Disclaimer: These guys are so far from being mine, it's depressing. So don't sue me.
Feedback: Lots of it, please. Glad to see you're back, Imzadi. Liking the Lindseyness? Well, here's some more. Enjoy! :)
PART 16.
Lindsey ran his fingers through his hair, again, and gave himself a mental slap.
Try harder. You can do it.
He wandered further along the hall, not really paying attention to anything in particular, and casually kicking at the odd bit of sticky up carpet. He pulled his hand out of its pocket and ran his fingers along the textured wallpaper as he walked, ignoring the grime it was gathering on the way.
It didn't really bother him anymore, having someone else's hand where his should have been. It didn't seem alien to him now, and he guessed he had gotten used to it. The scar wasn't even that noticeable now, especially if he covered it up with a watch or something. It even looked like his. Well, it matched the other one, at least.
But it was different. He could feel it. Even if no one else could tell, he still noticed it. Stuff felt different to him, and he was sure it wasn't just his imagination. OK, so it was nothing major, but he sensed it, and it never left him, no matter how accustomed he had become. He supposed it would be the same if you could look through someone else's eyes. Would the trees still look green to them? Or would the colour that they called green actually be closer to what you thought of as blue or yellow?
As riveting as that train of thought was, he had better things to ponder over at the moment. Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't mused about it over and over again in his dull new life. And how sad was that? His hand was wrong and misplaced, just like his entire life had been. Whatever he did, he just couldn't seem to find his place in this world, and he had come to the conclusion that he was meant to be a loner and a wanderer, dare he even say, cursed. He hadn't lost all hope, though. He knew he had a nice warm place waiting for him when he shuffled off of this mortal coil, one that he truly deserved.
Allowing an embittered snort to escape out loud, he turned a corner and banished his self-condemnation for the time being, focusing back on the task at hand.
Think, damn you, think. How hard can it be?
Angel had explained everything to him. And he had gotten out of there as fast as he could. Angel seemed to understand, though. He probably knew better than anyone about the value of a good brood, and obviously considered his ex-lawyer friend to be of little threat at the moment, leaving him to it and allowing him the full run of the hotel. Isn't trust a marvellous thing?
Lindsey didn't exactly feel comforted by it, though. It wasn't because of his remarkable personality or good qualities that Angel was being this nice. It was because he was too weak and pathetic to put up a fight anyway right now, along with a healthy dollop of pity. Lindsey didn't exactly hold it against him, but he couldn't help feeling a little annoyed, what with his pride being hurt and all.
Anyway, you keep getting sidetracked. Think!
It was no good. So much for the walk to clear his head. Try as he might, their was not a glimmer of recollection anywhere in his head, no matter how deep he dug. He couldn't remember a single thing from these last few weeks. Nothing that Angel had insisted had happened registered in his mind, and he was without a hope of finding anything to fill in the rest of the time that Angel didn't know about.
He hurt all over, and despite Angel's assurances that most of the damage was done during their escape from good old W&H, Lindsey knew for a fact that he had various half healed cuts and 'injuries' that had been there a lot longer, even though he didn't remember the circumstances. He shuddered to think what had gone on, and what he might have done…Oh well, he could look on the bright side. At least if he had suffered, he didn't know about it. That's a good thing, right? Never mind, don't answer.
Drifting back to the real world from his daze, Lindsey realised he had reached the staircase already, and could hear voices below in the lobby. He hesitated for a moment, and wondered whether it would be a bad idea to venture down. He wasn't sure if he was quite ready for it yet, or how well received he would be. He was bound to be greeted by suspicion, if not animosity, and he was never one of their most treasured of acquaintances.
On the other hand, Angel had described how they had helped in his rescue, and that they understood the situation. Surely they wouldn't begrudge him some degree of acceptance after his attempt at change?
Who was he kidding, it wasn't like the last time they helped him out he stuck to the straight and narrow, was it? All the more reason to prove his good will to them now, then. He wasn't going to skulk around up here for the rest of the time. And anyway, he was hungry.
He took the first few steps down tentatively, easing his way slowly into the huge new room and the heated conversation that was taking place within it. The centre couch came into view, and then the counter beyond it, as well as the three people occupying the space. Not wanting to intrude just yet, Lindsey lingered where he was in the shadows, taking in the scene.
The tall guy, Pryce, was sitting in the middle of the lobby on the couch, looking decidedly fed up, with that Cordelia woman floating around him and spouting on about goodness knows what. Then there was the black guy, what was his name? Gunn or something? He was leaning on the counter watching them, a big grin on his face. It didn't look like he was contributing to the conversation much, or that he wanted too. And Lindsey thought it best to follow his example.
"Cordelia, will you please stop fussing around me, I told you, I don't need you to-"
"OK, firstly, you don't get a say in this, and secondly, you do need my help. And you're getting it whether you want it or not. Now hold still! Do you see what you've done to all my patching? You've ruined it by doing who knows what and I've got to do it all over again. And don't you dare roll your eyes at me, mister, you're bleeding all over the furniture."
The woman continued to rummage in the bag she was holding, pulling out reels of bandaging and various other ominous looking items. She set about reapplying her work with a little more care than her tone suggested, and carried on her nagging session.
"Since when did you become Mr. Grouchy Pants today, anyway? It doesn't suit you. But don't worry; I know just how to fix that. You need to get a little food in you, and you'll be right as rain."
Wesley perked up a bit at the suggestion, only to have his expression change into something resembling dread.
"I'm running low on take away funds, so I thought I'd put our little kitchen to good use. I'm gonna make omelettes!"
Gunn nearly choked on his coffee, failing miserably at his attempt to discretely cover up his amusement. The joke lost on her, Cordelia looked over at him innocently.
"What? Omelettes are our friends. Don't you guys like them? It's just that our food supply's a bit limited, what with the liquid diet boy upstairs."
She looked back expectantly at Wesley, who squirmed slightly under her gaze.
"Um, it's not that we don't like them", he stammered, "it's just that, well, it doesn't seem…appropriate. I don't want to put you to any trouble; you don't have to cook for me. I'm…not hungry…"
Lindsey didn't miss the flinch at that tiny white lie. He guessed that Cordelia's cooking probably wasn't anything to write home about. Poor guy.
Cordelia stood up straight and eyed him coldly.
"Hey, Wes, you've got a couple of strands comin' off your shirt there." She pointed down to where Wesley was sitting, and he looked over to check, but found nothing.
"Oh no, wait", Cordelia chipped, "they're your legs."
Gunn burst into laughter and Wesley narrowed his eyes at her unappreciatively.
"Come on, Wesley. I mean, stick insect, much? Don't you ever eat? How can you not be hungry? You have to start taking better care of yourself. I'm making you something and that's the last of it." She packed away her first aid kit and went to stow it safely behind the counter, passing a hysterical Gunn on the way.
Wesley moved round to glare at his ridiculing friend and forced malicious smile.
"I don't know what you're laughing about. She'll make some for you too."
Gunn cut off his giggles rather abruptly at the realisation, his eyes widening. He made after Cordelia before she could get away, making excuses for himself and trying to persuade her from her idea.
Not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to eat, Lindsey chose that moment to introduce himself, before they left the lobby. Clearing his throat in announcement, he ambled casually down the remaining steps and gave them all a shy smile.
"Hi", he said when they all turned to stare at him, stopping and rocking nervously on his heels.
Cordelia raised an eyebrow and gave him the once over with those critical eyes of hers, clearly not liking what she saw. Wesley regarded him with wary curiosity, searching for some reminder of his earlier encounters with him and coming up blank. Gunn, sensing the other two's reluctance, stepped in and offered the only icebreaker he could think of, as lame as it was.
"Hey", he said, "is everything…OK? Are you…"
"I've been better. But don't worry, not evil."
"Glad to hear it", Gunn replied, not sounding entirely convinced.
"Well, if it isn't 'born yet again' boy", Cordelia mumbled under her breath, turning her back on him to rustle through some papers on the counter.
Doing his best to ignore her comment, Lindsey continued, desperate to get their approval.
"Look, I just wanted to say thanks, you know, for helping me out…And I'm sorry if I hurt you or anything, I didn't mean to. I've sorta tried to turn over a new leaf, and this didn't really fit the new image."
He took a breath, not getting an answer, but ploughed on anyway.
"I never really apologised to you guys for…stuff, and I know I can never say it enough, so I don't expect you to forgive me. I just hoped that you could understand that I'm trying to change, and that, as far as I'm concerned, there's no hard feelings."
Well, that was the end of the speech he had prepared, and he had nothing left to say. He prayed that the response wouldn't be too harsh on him, seeing as how he had been entirely sincere for a change.
Gunn gave a curt nod in his direction, a sign, surely? He received a bitter 'yeah, whatever' from Cordelia, and Wesley just stared some more, catching himself when Lindsey looked his way.
Not as bad as it could have been, he supposed. Now came the tricky bit. The small talk.
"So", he started, walking a bit further into the room, "…what's happening?"
You lame-o…
Gunn, looking slightly confused and probably suspecting that this guy had a circuit or two missing, went back to nursing his coffee and tried to think of something interesting to say.
"Er, well, nothing much", he admitted, "except that Cordelia and Wesley are having another one of their bickering matches. Why don't you watch with me, it's kinda fun."
"Oh, ha ha", Cordelia snapped, digging a magazine out from a pile of papers in an attempt to further ignore Lindsey's existence. Without even turning her head, she yelled 'SIT!" when she sensed Wesley getting up behind her, ready to make his escape. He sighed and obeyed, deciding that he had been right all along never to admit to Cordelia when he was really sick. The hassle just wasn't worth it.
Lindsey absorbed the silence for a while, idly musing about things that he regretted saying out loud afterwards.
"Cordelia…" he mumbled, not intending it as a way to address her.
"Yes?" she asked, thinking that he had something to say to her. He looked up at her and snapped himself out of his thoughts, struggling for a way to explain himself.
"That's Shakespearian, right? King Lear's daughter?" Wow, the king of conversation. You stupid idiot.
She shot him a look like he was the weirdest freak on the planet, and then turned to Gunn for interpretation. He shrugged but said nothing, probably not wanting to seem ignorant.
"I mean, I was just thinking, you guys have some…unique names. Angel, Gunn and…Wesley. Sounds kinda dumb."
Wesley finally met his eyes at that point, and incredulous and slightly hurt expression on his face.
"Gee, I've never heard that one before", he drawled sarcastically. "Besides, you're one to talk, Lindsey."
"Why are you being like this?" Cordelia chipped in, coming to Wesley's defence. It seemed she had been offended out of her childish game of 'I'm not talking to you'.
Lindsey cursed himself for putting their backs up again and reverting to his old ways. He never was any good at making friends. Something to do with the 'each for his own' way of life that comes with being a poor kid. He sighed and looked at his feet, trying to think up a way to save the situation before he dug himself further into his hole.
"Sorry. I guess I'm just kinda nervous. When I'm not being all cranky I get sorta shy and mess stuff like this up." He gave them a weak smile that faded fast, and he looked away, embarrassed.
Yet another one of those uneasy quiets fell again, and Cordelia gave up her pretence, throwing down the magazine she wasn't really that engrossed in after all. Wesley broke the tension with a little empathetic compassion, suggesting that someone should go out for food.
"Are you hungry, Lindsey?" he asked, hoping that he could get someone else on his side when it came to eating and avoiding Cordelia's culinary treats. Lindsey nodded enthusiastically, but noticed the irritation on Cordelia's face when it looked like her offer was going to be snuffed.
"Do you guys have a kitchen here?" he asked, knowing full well that they did, but wanting to spare Cordelia's feelings and avoid her wrath. " 'Cause I make a mean cheese omelette…"
* * *
Sleep can be treacherous sometimes, creeping up on you when you don't even realise it. Maybe he just hadn't noticed how tired he had been, not having chance to rest for hours now. There had just been so many things going on that he didn't have the time to stop, let alone close his eyes. And he still didn't have the time.
Lorne had told him before he had left, about the danger he felt was left to come, as well as a few other things that he would have to talk to Wesley about later. He made a mental note to do so, when this was all over.
Anyway, having Lilah, and then Lorne, come to him and tell him something wasn't right couldn't just be a coincidence. He needed to let the others know right away and get prepared for whatever it was that was yet to make itself known. His body, it seemed, had better ideas.
Having had a very long discussion with Lindsey and then being left on his own in the dark room, hours of fighting, explaining and general emotional stress had taken its toll, and he had crashed out before his rational mind could protest.
Coming to his senses now, Angel realised just how dearly that could have proven to cost them. He almost jumped off of the bed, hurriedly brushing himself down and rushing out the door. He checked the corridor, then the room he knew Cordelia had used, finding them empty. Wondering where Lindsey had gotten to, he made his way downstairs to find everyone tucking into plates of eggs at the counter.
To his surprise, Lindsey was there, and apparently being complimented on his skills as a cook. Wesley clearly hadn't torn apart the hotel after all, and was contentedly finishing off his portion at Gunn's side, seemingly none the worse for wear after his encounter with Lilah. Even Cordelia looked a little less fiery when she noticed his presence, and for a moment he hoped that all had been forgiven.
He was disappointed.
"Finally emerged from your cave and come crawling back down now, I see. Wesley's still alive, by the way, in case you'd failed to notice during your brooding." She shovelled another forkful of cheese and eggs into her mouth, and Wes gave him an apologetic shrug, not really wanting to know what they were arguing about.
Angel refused to be drawn into another battle of the wills, and opted for getting straight to the point.
"You guys, there's something I've got to tell you, it's important. Lilah came by earlier and said that we've got more trouble to expect, and Lorne confirmed it. He said he could sense something coming."
Lindsey paled slightly, and Cordelia glared harder at Angel, Lilah's presence being news to her.
"What do you mean Lilah was here? What were you thinking?!" she cried, giving a meaningful nod in Wesley's direction where he was currently stabbing at his plate with slightly more force than was necessary.
Frustrated, Angel continued, looking to Gunn for support.
"Look, I don't have time to get into it with you, I just thought you should know, so that we can be ready."
"Ready for what?" Cordelia demanded, not willing to give Angel an easy ride.
At that moment, everyone snapped their heads round to see a large object smash its way through the glass in the lobby doors, sending shards flying through the air and covering them all in tiny fragments of sharp and deadly sparkles. Instinctively ducking and throwing themselves to the floor, the others dived for safety whilst Angel threw himself over the counter, out of the path of the object.
He landed on the floor next to Cordelia with a grunt, tensing himself up for a fight. She turned to look at him wide-eyed, disbelief clear in her gaze.
"Is this worth being ready for, do you think?" he asked.
To be continued…
