Title: Small Steps
Author: Sarah K. Roberts (S.K.RobertsWesNut)
Main Character(s): Wesley
Date Completed: February 25, 2004 -- Happy birthday, Alexis Denisof!
Category: Angst, Challenge Response: Wesley Pygmalion Fic Challenge
Summary: A close call causes Wesley to reconsider the way he conducts his Watcher duties and works to prove his worth -- to himself as well as everyone else.
Setting: Buffy, sometime after "Consequences" but definitely before "Enemies" (Season 3)
Spoilers: Through "Doppelgangland"

Disclaimer: This story is not meant to infringe on rights of Mutant Enemy. This is not for profit and purely for enjoyment. All characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer were borrowed and then returned, unharmed and unchanged at the end, with their dignity intact. All original characters belong to Sarah K. Roberts. Any similarity between this story and an already existing episode of the show or an already existing fan fiction, is purely coincidental. Enjoy!

Small Steps

The Chosen Two, as Faith liked to say, were again patrolling the cemetery in Sunnydale. Only this time, they were not alone. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Rupert Giles' replacement as Buffy's Watcher, insisted on going on patrol with them every night. It had only been a short time ago that Faith had killed a human being by accident. It seemed as though she had gone off the deep-end, but they had caught up with her. Now, it seemed she was holding up and may yet make a full recovery. Until then, Wesley was not to let the two Slayers out of his sight while patrolling. It was tiring work, but he seemed to be holding up... mostly. He was having a bit of trouble with his weapons bag at the moment.

"Wesley, will you please stop fumbling around with your bag! Do you want all the vampires in Sunnydale to hear?!" Buffy said when she could not take it anymore.

"I am sorry, but my crossbow seems to be caught on the lining of my bag," Wesley replied as he tried to pull it loose.

"I don't see why you need so many weapons, anyway. You're with two Slayers," Buffy said.

"Well, it never hurts to be prepared for obstacles which might arise. Proper preparation prevents poor performance," he said, still struggling with the crossbow.

"Please! No alliteration or I swear I'll stake you myself!" Faith burst out. At the thunderstruck looks of both Buffy's and Wesley's faces, she realized what she had said. "I was just playin' around. Really."

"Hold that conversation 'til later!" Buffy yelled as a horde of vampires suddenly came upon them. Immediately, she and Faith were engaged in battle.

Wesley, seeing the sudden seriousness of the situation, tried even harder to pull his crossbow free. It would not budge. Seeing Wesley's helplessness, a vampire charged over toward him. Wesley saw this. Trying hard to suppress a girlish scream, he closed his eyes and pulled the trigger of the crossbow. The bolt tore through the fabric of the bag and found its mark in the vampire's chest. Wesley opened his eyes and was astonished to see his attacker turn to dust. He smiled widely, impressed with himself when he looked down at his bag. "Blast! And I liked that bag!"

Buffy and Faith moved around the graveyard quickly, staking anything that moved. They had each taken out several vampires, but they seemed to keep coming. It was almost like there was an army of them.

Then suddenly, they stopped coming. In fact, they all seemed to disappear.

"O-o-o-kay, what just happened?" Faith asked, confused.

"I don't know. But I don't like it," Buffy replied. She looked around. "Wait... Where's Wesley?"

Wesley was obscured from view behind a large headstone. He was still trying to free his crossbow. The battle seemed to have ended, but he still wanted a weapon at hand in case they came again. He was too preoccupied to notice the creature coming up behind him. Suddenly, he felt long, sharp fangs dig in to the right side of his neck. He was too in shock to make an effort to fight the vampire off. All he could do was scream.

"Wesley!" Buffy called as she charged over to him upon hearing his scream.

The vampire quickly let go of her quarry and ran off; Faith charged after her. Wesley collapsed to the ground, his crossbow and bag forgotten. Buffy crouched down to him, examining his neck. The punctures were deep. His eyes were opened and etched with terror, even noticeable from behind his glasses. His mouth was agape, but he seemed to still be breathing. She checked for a pulse. Way too fast, she thought to herself. She placed her hand over the wound, applying pressure. "Awe, Wes. Look what you've gone 'n' done," she said to him. She was miffed at him for getting himself in a mess.

He was silent... something Buffy was not used to when Wesley was concerned. He just laid there, eyes wide open, staring at the dark sky. As he lay, everything around him seemed to be loosing its color. It was all turning white. Quite disconcerting, his subconscious mumbled, since it is, in fact, nighttime.

A single tear ran down his cheek -- a tear of which he was not even conscious. Buffy saw the glint on his cheek, and her anger turned to sadness. He's scared, Buffy recognized. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. The man annoyed her to no end, but she never wanted to see him in pain. She really wished Faith would come back already so she could call for help. His eyes started to flutter and close. "Come on, Wes," she said, patting his cheek, "Don't conk out me now."

He tried to obey, but he could not stand it any longer. He closed his eyes and kept them closed, no matter how much Buffy urged otherwise.

Buffy walked into the library.

The night before, Faith had finally returned, aggravated that the vampire who had bitten Wesley had gotten away. She then hurried off to a phone, and an ambulance was there in no time to whisk Wes to the hospital. Buffy was actually amazed how un-phased the medics were when they arrived at a graveyard to find that the victim had been bitten. She figured that they were finally getting used to all of the strange happenings in Sunnydale.

Reading the morning newspaper, Giles walked out of his office just as Buffy passed the checkout counter. "Good morning, Buffy. Patrol go well last night?"

"Actually, something wonky happened. Faith and I were fighting a boat load of vamps when, all of a sudden, they disappeared," she replied as she walked over and sat on the edge of the table.

"Disappeared, as in, thin air?" he mused.

"No, as in, ran off."

"That is odd. Well," he paused, "as much as I would rather ram a stake in my own heart than say this... you'd better talk to Wesley about it."

"Oh, uh, that's going to be a little hard. He had a little run-in with a vamp last night."

"Oh, really? Is he all right?" Giles tried to sound concerned, but he did not think he was doing a good job of it.

"Well, he was unconscious last time I saw him. He lost a lot of blood. I think he's gonna be stuck in the hospital for a few days," she said to him.

"Only a few days?"

"Come on, he got bitten by a vampire. Give him a break," she defended. At his curious look, she continued, "Just this once."

"Who got bitten by a vampire?" Willow asked, a little concerned, while she, Oz, and Xander approached.

"Wesley," Buffy informed.

"I thought it was amazingly quiet in here. Now I know why," Xander said. "Wait... if he was bitten, why didn't you stake him?"

"Because he was only bitten, Xander, not turned," Buffy said back, a little irritated.

"But shouldn't you do it anyway?" Xander said. "Just to make sure?"

"Xander..."

"Okay, I was just sayin'."

"Besides, if I had, the Council wouldn't like it, and we'd have to break-in a whole new Watcher," Buffy said, trying to get him off of it. "Forget about killing Wesley for a moment. We have bigger issues."

"Oh?" Willow questioned a hint of eagerness in her voice.

"Yeah. The vamps are up to something. We need to figure out what."

Wesley opened his eyes to find that every object in his sight was blurry. Wondering where his glasses were, he turned his head to look for them on a side table. He quickly realized by the sharp pain in his neck that moving was not a good plan at all. He tried not to whimper, but it was hard. He kept as still as possible as he waited for the pain to subside. It did after a moment, and he began to wonder what was going on.

Where am I? And why do I hurt so much?

He slowly tried to wiggle his fingers and toes to make sure all of him was still there. He soon realized an IV was stuck in his left hand, a tube of red fluid running from it.

Is that... blood?

He lifted his other hand and started patting himself, trying to find a wound that would require him to need a blood transfusion. He soon found the bandage on his neck.

Oh, dear.

Thinking for a moment, he remembered what happened. He had been bitten by a vampire! He suddenly feared that he was now one of the undead. But as soon as he realized that the sunlight filtering through the blinds was hitting his skin without any dramatic effect, he calmed down. Now, after that bit of excitement, he was feeling... depressed.

I am hurt, and I have only been in this country for perhaps a week. And no one seems to care, either. No one is here to see if I am all right. No mum. No Giles. Not even a nurse. I am... alone.

Everyone hates me. I know that. But it would be nice if at least someone cared.

I really am trying my best. But it seems my best is not worth much. It was my duty to watch out for Buffy and Faith, but all I managed to do was get myself put into the hospital.

This whole Watcher business is not going well. Ask me anything about demons and majick, and I am living encyclopedia. But in the field, actually slaying the vampires and demons... I am all but useless.

Why can I never be good enough?

He shut his eyes and realized that there were tears in them. He slowly raised his hand to wipe them away. Holding his hand in front of his face, he could only just make out the moisture there. He curled in his fingers and made his hand into a fist, letting it drop gently on his chest.

This will not do. I have lived with this feeling for too long. There has to be something I can do. Someone I can... talk to.

He came to a decision. There was somewhere he needed to go, and he was going. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his neck brought him down again.

Ow, ow, oh... Maybe I shall wait until night falls. It will make my escape less noticeable. Until then...

He let his eyelids fall shut. Before long, he slipped into an exhausted sleep.

It had been a long day. The Scoobies had spent all of there between-class time trying to figure out what the vampires were up to. However, they had found nothing.

Giles let out an involuntary yawn as he approached his apartment, a load of books in his arms. As he turned the corner and entered his courtyard, he paused when he spotted a figure sitting on the fountain. The figure appeared male. He had his head in his hands, and it looked as if that were the only thing holding the man upright. Giles chanced to get closer. The man did not seem to notice when Giles moved around to face him. Actually, it appeared as if he were asleep. But when Giles caught sight of a large bandage on the right side of the man's neck and a very familiar pair of glasses clasped in one hand, he knew who the man was. "Wesley?" He received only a moan in response. Giles spoke louder, "Wesley!"

The young man's head shot up, causing him to gasp at the pain in his neck.

Dear Lord, Giles thought to himself when he first got a real look at him. He looks a mess. His hair looked as if it has been slept on, and his eyes seemed out of focus. He was not wearing one of his usual three-piece suits -- at least not all of it. The jacket was tossed on the fountain next to him, and he seemed to be wearing only his suit's pants and shirt, the right collar stained with presumably his own blood. His coloring was far too pale, even in the scant light. This can't possibly be Wesley Wyndam-Pryce!

It took a moment to compose himself. The person in front of his face was blurry. After finally waking up enough to realize he had taken off his glasses, Wesley slipped them on slowly. "Uh, Mr. Giles."

Okay, so it is him, Giles thought. He got down on one knee so they would both be at the same eye level. "Wesley, what on earth are you doing out of the hospital?"

"I, uh," the young man stumbled, "need someone to talk to. I was hoping, if it is not too much trouble, you might perhaps indulge me."

Giles looked to the ground and considered for a moment. I just know I'm going to regret this. "Well... We can't talk out here. Come on. Inside with you," he said as took hold of one of Wesley's arms and helped him to his feet. Beginning to walk to the front door, he was actually afraid to let go of the young man in fear that he would crumble at any moment. Once inside, Giles set his books down on his kitchen counter and then lead Wesley to the sofa. Making sure the younger man was comfortable, Giles took a seat on his coffee table. "What are you trying to do, Wesley, kill yourself? You look a bloody mess. You should still be in the hospital," he said, actually surprised by the concern in his voice. Yes, this man was a thorn in his side, but the sight of him now panged at Giles' heart. "What can be so important to risk your physical wellbeing?"

"I failed them, Mr. Giles," Wesley said in a soft voice. He would not meet the older man's eyes.

"Failed? Failed whom?" Giles questioned.

"Buffy and Faith..." After a short pause, Wes continued, "By letting my guard down and being attacked, I put them in danger."

"It seems to me that you were the one in danger, not them."

Wesley tried to find the right words. "As much as you do not like it, I am their Watcher. It is my duty to look out for them. I do not even seem to be able to take care of myself, so what good am I to them?"

"You are still new to this, Wesley. You aren't expected to just jump in and be instantly good at everything," Giles said. "In fact... I wasn't much better when I started. But I learned. So will you."

"That is the point, actually. I do not know how to learn without being in the field," he said, finally lifting his head. "I need... help."

"Ouch. I bet that was hard to muster," Giles tried his hand at joking.

"I want to be an asset, not a liability. I am willing to go, uh, to many levels to achieve that." Giles thought he was trying to joke, but the boy looked terrified.

"Well, Wesley, there isn't much I can tell you. You have to discover your strengths and weaknesses on your own. It is up to you to have enough confidence in yourself to make things happen," Giles told him. "But I am sure there are a few pointers I can give you, at least."

"He's gone!" Cordelia exclaimed as she burst into the library.

"Huh? What? Who's gone?" Xander asked, looking up from the book Willow was showing him.

"Wesley. I went to the hospital to check on him, but he's not there," she went on. "He disappeared!"

"Oh. Is that all?"

"Xander Harris! The man was bitten by a vampire, and you don't even tell me about it until last night. Now he's disappeared, and you don't even care?!"

"Not really," Xander replied.

Cordelia surely would have pelted the teenager had Giles not just entered the room. "What's all this commotion about?"

"Wesley's MIA, and Mr. Shabby Un-chic can only make jokes," Cordelia said, almost snarling at Xander.

"Oh, about Wes--" Giles began, but was interrupted by the entrance of Buffy and Faith.

"What's shaking, guys?" Buffy said as she walked up.

"Wesley is missing," Cordelia said, worried.

"What?"

"Hey, I didn't kill him or anything, if that's what you're thinkin'," Faith said, waving her hands about. Everyone actually considered that her statement could be a lie, but then looked at her with 'that's not funny' expressions.

"If you are all quite finished rambling," Giles spoke up, "I have actual news regarding Wesley."

Everyone quieted.

"Considering his condition, Wesley asked me to be a temporary stand-in for him while he recovers," Giles explained.

"So, you're Buffy's Watcher again?" Willow asked.

"For now, yes."

"Wait," Cordelia said to Giles, "You didn't kill him, did you?!"

"'Cause the only way Wes would give up his position to you is if he was dead," Xander said.

"What?! Certainly not! Wesley is quite alive," Giles assured, flabbergasted. "As annoying as he is, he is still a person, w-who has feelings and feels pain like the rest of us. He--"

"He didn't whimper home to Mommy, did he?" Xander asked.

"Shut up, Xander!" Cordelia yelled.

"Just because you like him, doesn't mean I have to!"

"Both of you, shut up!!" Buffy yelled, waving her hands in an 'I'll break your neck if you don't do what I say' sort of way. She still remembered the look on Wesley's face just after he was bitten. She realized then that he was a man who got scared just like any other. "Leave the man alone for once! Getting bitten by a vampire is no small thing. If he's having a hard time dealing, give him some time to figure it out."

No one spoke for a longtime.

"Thank you, Buffy," Giles finally spoke up. "That is more or less what I was trying to say. Now, can we please get to work?"

Two nights of patrolling had passed with no more attacks by the mass of vampires. Though they had spent days trying to figure out what was going on, the Scoobies had nothing.

"I just don't get it," Buffy said to Willow and Xander as they walked down the hall toward the library. "First, they're everywhere. Now, they're nowhere."

"Maybe they're trying to rattle you, make you loose focus," Willow suggested.

"Well, it's working," Buffy replied as she pushed to open the door to the library. When she entered, she noticed a familiar, suited figure was standing at the table with his back turned.

"Oh, great. He's back," Xander said under his breath.

Upon hearing them enter, Wesley turned, leaving the book he was examining. His slow and stiff -- even more stiff than usual -- movement did not go unnoticed. Nor did the paleness of his skin. There were only a few shades difference between the white bandage that peeked out from beneath the collar of his shirt.

Taking in his appearance, Willow commented, "Wesley, uh, should you be out of the hospital? You, uh... uh..."

"--Don't look so great," Buffy finished, knowing Willow was trying to find the most polite words -- something Buffy did not usually bother with.

"Well, I do not feel 'so great' either, but I have a job to perform," he said, his voice more quiet than usual. He turned to pick up his journal. He took a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath before turning back to Buffy. "While you're here, Buffy, I would like to get a report on your patrol last night."

Buffy fought the urge to roll her eyes, not sure if she had at all succeeded. "Well, that's easy. Nothing happened."

"Nothing?" he questioned.

"Well, I did kill a few vamps as they tried to rise, but that was about it. Slow night."

"Really?" he said, puzzled. "No encounters with the hoard of vampires from the other night?"

"Nope. It's like they pulled a Houdini," she said. "We've been trying to get the skinny on them for days, but we got nothin'."

"Odd," he mustered. He pulled a chair out from the table and sat in it, beginning to write down the information, or lack thereof.

"Well, uh, we got to get to class," she said before turning to leave. Willow and Xander followed.

"Oh, Buffy, a word with you before you leave?" Wesley said, taking his attention away from his journal.

Buffy motioned for her friends to go ahead, then she walked over to him.

"I, uh, would like to accompany you on patrol tonight," Wesley said to her, more in a 'May I come with you' than an 'I am coming with you' tone.

"No offense, Wes, but I don't think you're up to it," she replied. "It hasn't even been a week since you got bitten, and you don't look too stable on your feet."

"Yes, I'll wager that is true, but I would still like to go with you. M-maybe there is something I can do."

She looked at him carefully. He sounded almost desperate rather than bossy. She did not quite know what to make of him in this condition. "You're hurt, Wesley. If you come on patrol, you could end up getting us in trouble or something. For once, I'm not trying to be mean, but I think you need more time before you go jumping back in," she said. His crestfallen look did not give her pleasure as it might have at some other time. "Look. Give me the day to think about it. You get some rest, and maybe I'll reconsider."

She turned to leave, and Wesley watched her as she hurried out of the door. The moment she was out of sight, he took off his glasses and let his body go limp, dropping his head to rest on his journal. She was right. He did not need to be going on patrol so early after his attack. He could end up getting the girls killed. But his feeling of helplessness was worse if he did not at least try to do something.

He stayed still for several minutes. He was all but oblivious to the world around him. So much so that he did not notice the young, blonde woman peering through the window of one of the library doors. Moments after leaving the library, Buffy had remembered the whole reason for her going there: a book for class. She had hesitated, not wanting to confront Wesley again, but turned back to the library to get it anyway. The sight through the window of her Watcher slouched over the table made her pause. Wesley doesn't even know the meaning of 'slouch'! she commented to herself. She almost burst in to make sure he was still alive, but, even from that distance, her finely tuned Slayer eyes could see the rise and fall of his shoulders. He was still suffering the effects of being bitten, but he kept going anyway.

She did not know what was worse... That she hated the man for replacing Giles, convincing her that he was evil. Or that he kept showing several signs that was very human, making it hard for her to hate him. She turned away, deciding to get the book later.

The Chosen Two were again patrolling the cemetery in Sunnydale. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was with them. He was still weak, but he seemed to be holding up... really. This time, he had his crossbow at the ready. When Buffy expected him to rattle on about theories on these vampires or fumble with his bag again, he was quiet and still. Coming from him, it was almost worrying. I hope I made the right decision letting him come along, Buffy said to herself.

"You sure you should be with us, Wes?" Faith asked as she moved passed a headstone.

"It is my job to watch you whether I am injured or not. Besides, I'm feeling much better, thank you," he replied, moving passed the same headstone.

"Just askin'. I don't want you to keel over on us," Faith said back. "We got enough to worry about."

He did not reply. He just kept walking, keeping his eyes peeled for danger.

"You know, these passed few days of no action is really starting to get on my nerves," Faith said. "It's not natural."

"Neither is that," Buffy said at the sight of vampire after vampire coming out of the shadows, surrounding them.

"Bring it on!" Faith said as she charged, and she and Buffy were again engaged in battle.

A vampire charged at Wesley, but the Englishman was ready this time. He took aim and struck home, seemingly effortlessly. He quickly reloaded his crossbow and looked for another target. He spotted one just behind Buffy, ready to strike. He acted quickly, and the vampire was dust in nearly the blink of any eye. As dust sprinkled her back, Buffy turned to see what had happened. Wesley's still-aimed crossbow and determined expression gave her the answer. Sincerely impressed, she was caught in a moment of almost admiration before the sight of a vampire quickly coming up behind her Watcher tore her out of it.

"Wesley, behind you!" she warned as another vamp charged her.

He whipped around just in time to have a hand rammed into his chest, throwing him to the ground. The breath knocked out of him, Wesley could not move. Two strong hands grabbed hold of his neck and pulled him up to where his feet no longer touched the ground. His crossbow, unbolted and useless, fell to the ground. The demon brought Wesley close enough to where their faces almost touched. Her feminine features were not lost even to her vampire game face. "Oh, I remember you," the female vampire said as she looked him in the eyes and smiled. "You're one of the best things I've tasted all week."

"That, madam," he gasped, "is one of the most disgusting things anyone has ever said to me." He tried to pry her hands from his neck, but her grip would not give.

"Oh, but you were delightful. Wouldn't want that tastiness to go to waste!" she said as she bared her fangs, ready to dig in.

"Sorry, but I really am not good for you health!" Wesley wheezed as he pulled something from the waistband of his pants and jabbed it into her heart.

Shocked, she dropped him and stared at the stake protruding from her chest. "Dam--"

He hit the ground hard, making his glasses skew and vision blur. He barely registered the dust sprinkling over him as he gasped to get oxygen to return to his lungs, trying his best to keep everything from going white again.

Faith staked another vampire and turned around, looking for more. She only saw Buffy. "What? That's it?!" she said, still tense from the action.

Buffy rolled her eyes at her as she looked around. It looked as if they really had gotten them all this time. If they had not, she would get them later. Either way, it was a relief. She still did not know why they attacked on mass, but they were no longer a problem now. Giles and Wesley would appreciate that. Her eyes suddenly widened.

"Wesley!"

She hurried over to where she had last seen him. Spotting a pair of unmoving legs behind a headstone, she hesitated to look, afraid of what she might find. What she actually found made her brow scrunch. The young Watcher was flat on his back, and dust was everywhere. He had a look of shock on his face, and he was trembling. He gasped in a breath before speaking, "I-I think I got it."

Wondering what he was talking about, she caught sight of the stake that had fallen to the ground beside him. Putting the pieces together, she let a smile grace her lips as she put her hands on her hips. "I have to admit, this is a bit surprising," she said, looking down at him.

"W-what?" he questioned, his breathing returning to normal.

"You're a lot less dead than I expected," she said, folding her arms across her chest. After a few looks were exchanged, she bent down and reached out her hand. "Come on, Wes."

He stared blankly for a moment but then lifted a trembling hand to her. She took it and pulled him to his feet.

"You five by five?" Faith asked as she joined the two after one last check for vamps.

"Mostly," Wesley said as he took off his glasses and bent forward a little to rest his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He took only a moment and then tried to stand erect, but a pain in his neck caused him to grimace and pause.

"You okay?" Buffy asked as she saw him raise his hand to touch the bandaged bite on his neck.

"I fear," he said as he pulled his hand away to find his fingers wet with blood, "that I may have re-injured myself."

Buffy gently grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer to her so she could have a look. "Not too bad, I think."

"Think so?" he said as he touched his neck again.

"Yep, I think you'll live."

"That's a relief," he said as he finally put his glasses on and made sure they were straight.

She lowered her head and smiled so Wesley could not see it. "Come on, Wes. Let's get you patched up."

Buffy walked into the library to find the Scoobies gathered around the table.

"Those vamps aren't a problem anymore," Buffy said as she approached.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yep. They're past tense," Buffy replied. "I still don't know what their deal was, though. It's like they were testing us or something."

"Maybe it has something to do with this Mayor guy," Willow suggested.

Buffy looked to Giles and raised her eyebrow.

"Possibly," he said as he considered a moment. "At any rate, we will talk about it after classes."

"Classes," Xander groaned. "Ah, that's the reason I get up every morning to come here." He only barely managed to drag himself out of his chair and walk to the door with Willow.

"I'll be there in a sec," Buffy called to her friends. She waited until they were out of the room before walking over to her ex-Watcher. "So, you heard from Wes?"

"Not today, no."

"Really?" Buffy questioned, trying to decide whether she should be worried or not.

"Why?"

"Well, he was with us last night," Buffy explained, "He got hurt again."

"Again?" he said, almost exasperated.

"But it wasn't too bad. And it was only after he saved my butt from a vamp about to pounce on me from behind. He's almost scary with that crossbow of his. And he even managed to kill the vamp that bit him. He handled himself pretty well, actually. He was almost cool."

"Cool?" Giles smiled, guessing that his counseling had proved at least somewhat useful.

"Uh, yeah. But if you tell him I said that, I'll stake you," she threatened with her finger.

Giles held up his hands in surrender. "Have no fear. I'll never speak of it again."

The young Englishman walked into his apartment and closed the door behind him. He had spent yet another night in the hospital. Though the doctor would have preferred he stayed longer, Wesley had convinced him to release him that morning. He had had enough of hospitals in the past week to last for a very long time.

Draping his jacket over the back of the chair to his desk, he slowly walked to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and splashed a bit of water on his face before finally looking at himself in the mirror. If he had not known better, he would have thought he was dead by the pallor of his skin. As he lifted his hand to touch the bandage on his neck, he noted the way it trembled. He hated feeling like this. He was no use to anyone. He turned away from his doppelgänger and returned to the silence of his large apartment.

Whether he liked it or not, his body would take time to heal. The quickest way to kill some time, he thought, was to sleep. He walked over to his bed and let his body gently collapse there.

He fought the ever-increasing heaviness of his eyelids, batting his eyelashes to keep awake. But finally, he let himself give in. The Sandman had him almost completely in his grasp before a memory crossed Wesley's mind: he had killed his first vampire face to face! No controlled circumstances, no eye of the Council upon him, no accident with a crossbow. It was all his intentional doing, no one else's.

He was not the same man who arrived in Sunnydale only a short time ago, he realized. He was different. He doubted anyone would notice, but he knew.

He knew, and he smiled.

THE END