Note: Some violence in this chapter. I've never tried it in fics before. Man, is it hard to write. Hope I did OK.
Chapter Seven – Dreams All Too Real
Sleeping through the night and the next day, Wesley's dreams started again. These dreams weren't about his friends this time.
The vivid dream was about his biggest mistake he had ever made in his life, his treatment of Faith. She weaved in and out of his mind, as she was in Sunnydale, when she tortured him, and her return to subdue Angelus. Her face seemed all too real. Her touch all too real. Every touch, burn, stab made him flinch in his sleep. He tried to wake himself up, but nothing worked.
His beautiful, tragic, angry slayer taunted him, and then soothed his wounds, just to start the whole process over. When her ministrations turned very erotic, he didn't know whether he was in heaven or hell. She tortured him with her body just as she had tortured him with her hands so many years ago.
Then he saw her face again, scared, begging, pleading for his help. No sounds came out of her mouth. He could only see her screaming in agony.
"Wesley, wake up. What's wrong?" Dawn yelled at him.
He was screaming Faith's name over and over when he came out of it.
"Wesley, please. Don't do this. I need you here." Dawn sounded sincere in her words.
He opened his eyes, not knowing whether it was night or day. His mouth tasted like cotton and his head ready to explode.
"What time is it?" he groaned as he turned to his side. His stomach hurt, his head hurt, his whole body hurt. He hadn't felt this bad since his alcoholic binge right after he arrived home from the hospital.
"About four in the afternoon. You slept most of the day. Connor is out patrolling."
Wesley tried sitting up, but gave up when his head swam. Dawn handed him some water, which helped his thirst somewhat. All he could think about was the dream. He remembered it in great detail. He just knew he needed to find Faith quickly, or she'd die. Where on earth could she be?
Since Dawn, then Connor had fallen into his lap so easily, he suspected that Faith wasn't far behind. He just wished he knew the plan.
"I have to find her. She needs my help."
"Need to find who? Is it Buffy?" The girl still held out hope that her sister lived. Since they had no information otherwise, then maybe it was true after all. For her sake, he hoped it was.
"No, I'm sorry. Not her, sweetheart. Faith. I had a dream about Faith. She's in danger."
Dawn looked put out by his revelation. "Take a look around you Wesley. Danger is everywhere these days. Not taking a holiday any time soon."
Typical response from a teenager or Cordelia Chase.
Sitting up made his head swim, but he knew he'd have to get moving.
"Tomorrow, we'll set out again. Maybe something will happen where we can find Faith. This is all just surreal."
Dawn sat down beside him on the mattress. "Tell me about it. How is it that you just happened to find that building to spend the night? And how is it that you almost ran Connor down on a deserted street? I keep thinking that Faith will appear out of thin air."
Wesley rubbed his sore head. His vivid dreams about Faith were still that vivid. He almost thought that Cordelia had passed on the visions to him. But it just didn't fit. Nothing made sense at the moment.
"So we just keep driving until we find her? Not much of a plan." Dawn looked him in the eye. "If the dream had been about Buffy, would you feel the same way?"
The girl still hadn't really grieved over her sister. There had been no evidence of her anywhere. No sightings and no dead demons. Had she died in some lonely part of the desert doing God knew what? He didn't even know why she was in California in the first place.
"Of course I would. But, Dawn, why were you and your sister in California?"
She looked down at the floor. "My father lives in Palm Springs now. I was just visiting. When Buffy heard about all the problems in LA, she came to get me. She thought that if we headed toward the mountains, we'd have a better chance to get out before it got too bad. I guess she was wrong."
"There was nothing else she could have done."
Letting go of him, Dawn stood to pace. "I think she was right about the demon presence here being less. I'm just not sure why she disappeared without a trace."
He could think of many ways she could. Edging over to the foot of the bed, he wanted to stand. Even though his head still spun some, at least he could put his feet on the floor to stand. He almost toppled over, but Dawn was there to help him.
"I wasn't lying to you when I said that I need you. Don't give up now."
"I'm not giving up, Dawn. I have you to thank for that."
The girl beamed at him. Still so innocent, he thought.
"Thanks, Wes." She brushed a kiss across his cheek.
"Appropriate, yeah. Not likely," Connor said from the doorway. The boy was back from his patrol in a surly mood. "At least you're awake. Never thought I'd see you fall apart like that."
Why, oh why did Connor like to bait him? First Dawn, now his so-called falling apart.
"I haven't had any more than two, three hours of sleep a night since this all started. Sometimes I go for days without food. I saw so many people die, I've lost count. Before finding Dawn, I hadn't seen another living human in almost two months. You tell me how you would have faired."
Connor didn't understand the half of what he had gone through. But he did understand living in a hell dimension.
Walking away seemed to be the best option for Wesley at the moment. He didn't have the strength to do anything else. Let Connor stew for a while.
"Who do you think you are?" he heard Dawn say to Connor as he slowly walked out.
It wasn't long before Connor came out of the adjacent room. The look on his face was one of regret. Dawn must have read him the riot act.
"I checked around. No one's heard anything about Dawn's sister. So she hasn't come this way. Dawn says you want to leave in the morning?"
Wesley leaned against his SUV, just looking at Connor. "Uh, yeah. We need to keep moving." So much heartache surrounding Connor, much of it that was caused by Wesley himself.
"I want to come with you. I mean, you could use me in a fight. As you said, something is up. And I don't believe in coincidences."
Wesley would be responsible for two other lives now. Not that Connor wouldn't be a welcome addition. The boy could fight much better than he could. But all the baggage.
"I'm not so sure Dawn would agree." Now that might change Connor's mind.
"I'm the one who suggested it," Dawn called from the doorway, obviously listening to the conversation.
They packed up quickly early the next morning, with Dawn in front with him and Connor in the next row of seats.
"Why is it you guys have been moving so slowly? You should be in Nevada by now."
"Wait 'til you see it. Then you'll understand," Dawn confessed.
Then Connor saw it all. It wasn't a road, but more like a battlefield. Holes the size of buildings. Burned out hulls of cars and trucks. No bodies to speak of, but so obviously scavenged. They went faster when they could, but usually not more than twenty miles an hour.
"You weren't kidding," was all Connor could say. "I thought it was bad where I was."
They made it about twenty-five miles before it was time to find a place to sleep for the night.
"The rate we're going it'll take a year to get out of California," Connor commented to Wesley.
"Let's hope the going gets better. Maybe we need to find an optional route."
"I'll work on it. Got the map?" Wesley agreed. Anything to keep Dawn busy and her mind off of her sister.
Spotting a building off in the distance, Wesley pulled off the road onto a two-lane. It appeared to be a house, which could include supplies. He stopped in the driveway, not wanting to pull directly up to the structure.
"Connor, we need to do some reconnaissance. Come with me. Dawn, stay here."
"I know. Doors locked, ready to roll. I won't jump out to save you. Boy wonder here can do that."
What, he needed saving, Wesley groaned. Not that he hadn't saved her ass several times.
"Boy wonder? I'm not a boy."
"OK, manly wonder, then. God, guys are so picky."
"Dawn," Wesley finally said. At least she got under Connor's skin, making him ready if they needed to battle.
She reached over and grabbed Wesley's hand before he exited the vehicle. "Careful." He squeezed back.
The two men weren't two steps from the front door when a huge demon appeared, leaving the house. Wesley just hoped there were no other humans present.
The creature snarled at them, and then dove to take the both of them down. The thing happened to miss Connor, but took Wesley down, hard. The ground rose up to meet him much too fast. A grunt of pain escaped his lips as the demon rolled over on him, crushing Wesley.
All he could see was the blinding sun. I need to loot some sunglasses, he thought. Too much glaring sun for his tastes. He had never gotten used to it, preferring the weather of England.
Connor's foot lashed out, kicking the demon off Wesley. He could breath again. Even though it was the dirt and dust Connor had stirred up. Rolling to his side, away from the very large demon, Wesley regained his footing to see Connor smash his fist into its face.
Of course, considering their luck, the demon stood firm. Connor took another couple of swipes at it, but the thing wouldn't go down. Wesley had no earthly idea what kind of demon they were dealing with, except that it was big, red, and quite ugly.
As soon as Connor stepped out of the way, Wesley drew his sidearm and pumped three, well-aimed bullets in the demon's head and chest. It went down with a thud. He just hoped it didn't get up. The silencer he had on the gun made the action seem so quiet, when death wasn't supposed to be that quiet.
"I had him, you know," Connor told him as he looked over at the former rogue demon hunter.
"Looked like you were making progress," Wesley answered him, sarcastically.
"Nice weapon. Good addition of the silencer. Could have heard that for miles."
Connor and Wesley bantered as Connor looked at the dead form before them.
"Think it's safe?" Connor asked.
"Has to be. Chop it up and get rid of it."
"Oh, man. I fought it." Connor did not like the arrangement.
"I killed it. Only fair."
Connor shrugged. The older man was right. Score one for the geriatric crowd, Wesley thought.
Connor pulled out a long knife from his boot. Tying a rope around the thing's foot, he dragged it behind a shed. No sense letting Dawn see the carnage.
Wesley waved at Dawn to drive the car forward. Everything else checked out at the house. No dead bodies, not unless one counted the now-dismembered, ugly demon.
And there was water, Wesley sighed. Connor had very little of it at his makeshift place, only a toilet. The boy desperately needed a bath. He desperately wanted one too. Dawn would love one, he was sure. First things first though.
Dawn gave over control of the car. Wesley parked it in the garage, facing out just in case. The spell he performed was done quickly. His powers seemed to have increased in the past couple of days. He just wondered if it had anything to do with the two teenagers.
Sitting down that night, after everyone had cleaned up and ate, Wesley thumbed through his spell book, looking for a locator spell. Finding Faith seemed to be a priority in his mind. But he couldn't use it to find the once rogue-slayer. He could try to find the other one though.
"Hey," Dawn called from the doorway. Since it was mostly dark, she couldn't see the article of clothing that he had borrowed from her things. He had needed an object to help locate Buffy. And not letting her sister in on it was for the best, at the moment.
"Going to bed?" he asked quietly.
"I just wanted to make sure you're OK. Because that demon really hit you hard."
"Yes. I'm quite all right. Nothing a good night's sleep will not help." Wesley almost groaned out loud. His back spasmed a bit, but nothing he couldn't handle. He wanted Dawn to think he could handle it. For her sake.
"Night, then."
"Goodnight." He had almost added sweetheart but didn't. Dawn was getting too attached to him. Terms of endearment made it worse.
Wesley reached for the spell book again, reading the words by flashlight. The room he chose backed up to the mountains, so no one could see his feeble light. Performing the spell, he felt the familiar tug. The slayer's face swam before his eyes, then nothing. That was not how the spell was supposed to work. Had he done it wrong?
Trying again, all he saw was the face, then nothing. Something blocked him from seeing. Either he wasn't doing it correctly or he was blocked from tracing her. Strange indeed.
His power drained from him and all he wanted was a restful sleep. All he hoped for was oblivion. And sleep was what he didn't get.
TBC
I wanted to get to the good stuff now. Please review. Thanks.