REPRECUSSIONS
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except for the new ones that I've created.
CHAPTER 22-MY FAIR LADY
"What," Sam exclaimed, nearly in an angry scream, after having discovered what had transpired in her absence.
"I was only following the council's orders Sam…," Riley sputtered out with a somewhat scared look on his face as he nervously took a step back from his angry wife.
"Again with the Council, God Riley…aren't you ever going to think for yourself for once," Sam moaned with a sorrowful sigh as she shook her head and turned away.
"The Council is the authority that governs us Sam, makes us better than the monsters that we destroy," Riley spat out with a proud proclamation at first before he sneered at the finish of his answer.
"The Council is only human Riley, don't forget that they've been wrong before, at first they didn't want us to get married remember," Sam shot back with a daring scowl on her face as she was almost literally daring her husband to rebuff her statement.
"Don't start with that again…," Riley grumbled with an unhappy scowl on his face as he pulled out a chair and sat down, determined to not get into another fight about their courtship.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Angel asked softly with a reserved smile on his face as he slowly pushed open the door to the recovery room and walked towards Faith and Wesley, taking careful note of Faith's initially confrontational reaction before she noticed that it was him and settled down.
"Course not…Wes and I were just sitting here…," Faith began slowly with a scared look on her face as it was clear to Angel that she was frantically searching for something meaningful to say, all the while casting Wesley's helpless glances.
"Throwing out ideas about the identity of our attackers last night," Wesley hurriedly spat out with a nervous expression on his face before he gave Faith a half shrug of his shoulders, resulting in him wincing badly in pain, an act that didn't go unnoticed by Angel.
"You okay Wes," Angel asked with a very concerned frown on his face as Faith only ghostly cast a glance Angel's way before locking her doe like brown eyes fully on Wesley.
"I…think so, that food did me a lot of good, although it did leave me feeling a bit drowsy," Wesley answered through a small yawn before he slid his legs out over the edge of the bed.
"What are you doing," Angel exclaimed with a surprised and worried look on his face as he hurriedly took a step forward and was about ready to force Wesley to stay in bed if he had to when Wesley cut in.
"To find the texts that I brought with me to Sunnydale so that I can decipher more of the ancient prophecies about the slayer and the scythe," Wesley interjected with a determined and forceful tone to his voice before he slid off of the side of the bed and was nearly ecstatic to find that his legs supported him and didn't give way.
"Hate to break it to ya Wes but you came close a couple of times to passing out in the middle of cutting your steak," Faith declared with a disapproving scowl on her face as she hurriedly slid off of her bed and was around the end of the bed and standing in front of Wesley before Angel could offer up his objections.
"But this is important Faith, unless either one of you has been taking deciphering of ancient texts and scrolls behind my back then I'm pretty accurate in believing that I alone need to do this," Wesley shot back with a very weary but now even more determined scowl on his face as he a bit shakily took a couple of steps forward. He almost bumped into Faith but stopped just short as even though he didn't agree with her words he still wasn't about to force his way by either one of them.
"Faith's right Wes…you're still to weak from the surgery, there'll be plenty of time for you to decipher the ancient texts tomorrow…or the day after that, besides we have the scythe so…," Angel began with a calm yet serious tone to his voice as he laid a hand on Wesley's shoulder.
"But I feel fine…how can I possibly just lie there in bed recuperating when I know that everyone that I care about is in danger, if you won't let me go to the library at least bring the books here so that I can make use of my time, Faith can help me decipher them," Wesley stammered out with a frustrated look of anger on his face as he was desperately trying to reach some sort of an acceptable compromise.
"Wes…I don't…I mean those, fine…I'll have Fred arrange to have the texts brought here for you to decipher, but are you sure Faith's going to be much help in that department," Angel relented with a nervous frown on his face as he threw his hands up in defeat and shook his head before he cast a sidelong glance towards Faith, who didn't look to happy.
"Whoa there, what's that supposed to mean…," Faith blurted out angrily, more as a declaration than a question, before she spun around and aimed her patented pissed off glare straight up at Angel, who visibly began to wilt under the scrutiny after a few seconds.
"N…nothing Faith, relax, I never said that you were stupid, it's just that researching and stuff like that isn't exactly your forte," Angel stuttered out with a very nervous smile on his face as Wesley watched as almost every single muscle in Faith's body flexed in preparation for a fight.
"My forte…how the hell would you know what my forte is Angel, you get a lot of time to think when you're stuck for days on end in an eight by ten cell with no one to talk to but a balding woman that hates to shower and nearly rips your heart out if you ask her why she hasn't shaved her pits…," Faith declared with a very forceful and forthright look of seriousness on her face as her hands found a handhold on Angel's collar as Faith made sure that Angel was listening to her and nothing else.
"Easy luv…we've all been through a lot, there's no need to get tetchy, besides your forte is whatever you want it to be, and from the searing amount of pain emanating from my shoulder at this very moment I'm quite sure that I won't be able to decipher an appendices in an ancient text…let alone the LA Times crossword, without your help," Wesley jumped in with a tired and fearful expression on his face as unintentionally he took a stagger step backwards and thrust his hand onto the small table that Faith had wheeled in between the beds to keep himself upright. Before he heard Faith's worried gasp and Angel's shocked grunt Wesley's world descended into a pitch black realm.
"So we're agreed then, next time a guard opens the door you whack him on the head with that chair and we make a break for it," Spike whispered harshly with a serious expression on his face as he pulled his duster back on before searching under the bed for his missing boot.
"I don't think we'll get very far but it's the best plan we've got…uh Spike, it's at the foot of the bed…God we've slept together I don't know how many times but every time that it's over you always have trouble getting dressed," Buffy replied with a passive smile on her face as she half winked at Spike as she cautiously slipped her bra back on.
"Oh yeah…and who's fault is that, you were in such a hurry to get me naked that it's a surprise that I even have clothes left," Spike joked with an impish smirk splayed across his lips as he cast Buffy a quick wink before he leaned towards the foot of the bed in search of his boot.
"My fault, look who's talking…you've busted the zipper out of all three pairs of pants that I brought with me when we left Sunnydale," Buffy shot back with a lightly appalled look on her face that poorly hid the smile in her eyes as she pulled her shirt out from underneath one of the pillow's on the floor.
"Hey now pet, that was only because you ripped my favorite shirt to shreds…," Spike began to argue back with a look on his face that seemed to hint that he was finding less and less enjoyment out of their at first playful argument before he was rescued by the sound of a guard approaching their cell. With Spike's help Buffy yanked her shirt on before she wriggled into her pants, pausing only momentarily to be glad that no one had seen her make the hurried effort lest they think that she was having a seizure before she pulled her shoes on and tied them, thankful that she had been able to keep her socks on. Without making a sound Spike slipped his remaining boot on and scrambled to the door, taking his position on its one side while Buff grabbed a hold of the chair and crept across the room to the other side of the door and waited. Seconds later a key was inserted into the lock of their cell and the door slowly swung open to reveal an obviously scared young guard, with his weapon pointed down at the ground and a plate of food in his off hand.
"Stay back or else I'll…," The young guard started to say with a shaking voice before Buffy brought the chair down across the side of his head, careful to only use enough force to render him unconscious and not to kill him.
"Not pass Go and will not collect two hundred dollars…what," Buffy quipped with an odd smirk on her face before she turned her gaze towards Spike and noticed the confused look that he was giving her.
"You need to get some better punch lines pet," Spike joked with an impish smile on his face as he dragged the unconscious guard over towards the cot and stuffed him under it, remembering though to relieve him of the ring of keys on his belt and his weapon. "Here, you'd better take this," Spike whispered softly with a determined and intense expression on his face as he stood back up and handed Buffy the gun.
"What am I supposed to do with this," Buffy asked with a look of disbelief and slight revulsion on her face as she held the gun away from her body with her thumb and index finger.
"You point it at the soldiers and pull the trigger, problem solved," Spike replied with an unsure look on his face as he studied Buffy's reaction closely.
"I don't use guns Spike," Buffy stated with such an air of certainty and unwavering confidence that Spike knew that arguing was useless. With an angry and grim scowl on his face Spike took the gun back from Buffy, ripped the clip out and stuffed it in his pocket.
"Happy now," Spike grunted with a frustrated and impatient look on his face before Buffy nodded her head and took the ring of keys from his hands before leaving the cell.
"How is she…," Oz asked with a worried look on his face as he turned back away from Dawn's bed and looked sadly at Willow, who stood with her arms crossed, staring sadly at the peeling paint on the wall.
"She should be okay…at least that's what the doctor's said, once they finally found time to squeeze her in," Willow replied with a very tired and weary tone to her voice as she fought to keep from tearing up.
"Who is she," Connor asked with an inquisitive scowl on his face as he walked over from his spot in the corner and leaned down close to Dawn.
"Buffy's little sister…one of the ones that kicked her out…bloody traitor…," Molly replied calmly at first before her temper began to flare up and she sneered as she grumbled out the rest, glaring menacingly in Willow's general direction.
"She…I, we were not traitors…we thought that," Willow exclaimed in a hurry, blurting out the words before she was even fully aware of what it was that she was saying as her eyes were rimmed with tears, as she swung her head around and glared across the small room at Molly.
"You thought that you were doing the right thing…I understand doing what's right even though it hurts like hell…," Oz commented with a melancholy frown on his face as he reached out and rubbed the back of Dawn's hand with his thumb.
"But what you did was not right, it was foolhardy and selfish," Connor added with a very serious and unabashed frown on his face, as if he was stating a well known fact instead of his opinion, before he turned away from Willow and stared back at Molly, who had been forced to tightly grip the edges of her seat to keep from throttling someone.
"Connor," Oz growled harshly with a shocked and angry sneer on his face as he half whirled around in his chair and glared up at the young man, but only got to glare at his back as Connor was already staring at Molly.
"H…he's…right, it was foolhardy and selfish," Kelli mumbled out softly with a scared and near tears expression on her face as she turned her head away from the wall and stared over and down at Dawn, intentionally avoiding the gazes of everyone else in the room.
"No it wasn't, it was…," Willow began in earnest with a defiant and combative grimace on her face as she took a step forward towards Kelli before her resolve failed her and she averted her gaze towards the floor, making a hasty attempt to save her pride.
"Wrong Willow, I'm sorry but it was, no matter how you look at it or how you try to portray it voting Buffy out of her own house was wrong, and no amount of philosophizing, whining, begging, or arguing is going to change that…," Oz declared very plainly with a very disappointed and saddened frown on his face as he tried but couldn't lift his head up to look Willow in the eye.
"But…Oz, it wasn't like that…," Willow sputtered out softly, nearly in a whisper, as her eyes filled with tears.
"B…Buffy…," An even softer, and more frantic, voice called out into the midst of the debate, instantly silencing everyone in the room, if only for a few short moments.
"Dawnie," Willow shrieked with more than a fair amount of relief and fear in her voice as she rushed towards the bed, absentmindedly shoving a startled Oz off of his chair.
"Buffy," Dawn repeated, this time a bit stronger, as one eye blinked open but instantly squinted tightly against the light.
"Sorry Dawnie…Buffy's not here, but I am…see, it's me, Willow," Willow stammered out with a sad and heart wrenching look of fear on her face as she sat down in the chair in one motion and took one of Dawn's hands in hers in another.
"Where…where am I," Dawn asked weakly with an unsure and somewhat scared look in her eye as she adjusted to the level of light in the room.
"You're in Sunnydale Dawn, you're in recovery…you've got a nasty cut on your forehead…but other than that you should be fine, so just lie back and take it easy okay," Oz interjected with as sincere and reassuring of a voice as he could muster at that moment while deftly avoiding any eye or physical contact with Willow.
"Oz…," Dawn asked with a surprised and confused look on her face as she attempted to cock an eyebrow but stopped when the action pulled on her skin a little to much and made her cut ache.
"He's here to help us Dawnie, help us make everything better…," Willow replied with a very shaky edge to her voice as Oz steeled his nerves to keep from protectively wrapping his arms around his former lover.
"Can't…can't be made better…it all falls down…," Dawn quickly mumbled back with a heartbroken look of desperation on her face before tears welled up in her eyes and began to run down her temples, wetting the pillow faintly on either side of her head.
"Ya got that right Dawn…," Molly grumbled with an unhappy frown on her face before she stood up, shook her head in dismay, and walked out of the room.
"I should…I'm going to…," Connor stammered out with a nervous frown on his face as he kept shifting his gaze back and forth between the door and Oz and Willow before he shook his head one final time and left the room in hot pursuit of Molly.
"Who's he…," Willow asked, without taking her eyes off of a still teary eyed Dawn, Oz as the latter averted his eyes for a few second before answering with a slightly shaky voice.
"Angel…he's Angels son," Oz replied with an eerily factual and calm tone to his voice before he pushed off of the bed and fully stood back up.
It was nearly an hour before he came back to consciousness. Upon cracking his left eyelids apart his first few seconds of renewed sight was greeted by the image of an extremely worried and on the verge of frantic Faith standing over him, with her hands cupping his cheeks. At first the fact that her intense stare of worry was fully returned Faith leaned in a bit closer before hoping against hope and whispering softly. "Wes…," Faith asked very softly, now with a terrified look in her eye before she very nearly teared up as it registered in her mind that Wesley was indeed awake, and gazing just as intently at her as she was at him.
"Nnh…what happened," Wesley mumbled out before grimacing tightly in pain and lifting a slightly quivering hand to his forehead.
"You took a header straight towards the floor, scared Angel half to death," Faith replied with a haughty and almost mocking edge to her voice as she tried her best to appear to not be too concerned about his condition but Wesley could tell by the frantically fearful and wild glazed over look in her eyes that his condition was in the forefront of her consciousness.
"I think you overdid it earlier Wes, I'm going to have the doctors take another look at you, perhaps even evacuate you back to a hospital in LA…," Angel began to say with an almost scolding and disappointed tinge to his words before his voice softened up a bit towards the end.
"No…," Faith and Wesley exclaimed in unison, Faith a little more clearly and forcefully than Wesley, catching Angel noticeably off guard as he took an awkward step back.
"It's not my first choice either Faith…Wesley, but if what Ms. Hancock said is true this all is only the beginning of something much larger, and the presence of the Initiative in Sunnydale can only complicate things…then you'd be much safer back in Los Angeles," Angel responded with a deep in thought frown on his face as it was obvious that he wasn't happy about the circumstances that had placed him in his current predicament.
"The Initiative…what are those whack jobs doing here," Faith wondered aloud with a less than pleased and scornful scowl on her face as she unceremoniously made a spot for herself beside Wesley and hopped up onto the bed, with her feet half dangling over the edge.
"What they do best of course, follow their own self absolved world view where everything and anyone that isn't completely human is somehow…cursed…and the only way to help that soul is to…," Wesley began in between a couple of dry coughs before Faith shook her head and looked back towards him.
"Let me guess…shoot first and ask questions later," Faith inquired with an unhappy and unexcited smile on her face at first before her smile changed to a frown of frustration.
"Close…more like shoot first and have their heads jammed so far up their asses that they somehow keep from choking on their own shit…," Angel declared with a very disapproving and angry expression on his face as his countenance fell before a slightly trembling guard burst into the room.
"Yes…," Faith hissed with a very angry sneer on her face as if she felt that the guard had snuck into her bathroom as she was in the middle of taking a shower.
"M…Mr. Angel…sir, Mr. Gunn told me to come and tell you the good new right away…," The guard stammered out with an obviously terrified look on his face as Wesley, Angel, and Faith glared a hole straight through his head with their gazes.
"Well what is it…get on with it," Wesley drawled out with a weary and impatient frown on his face as he laid his head back down and stared up at the ceiling.
"She's awake sir…Ms. Chase is awake…and asking for you," The guard stated, now with a bit more confidence in himself before Angel's face lit up like a Christmas tree and he tore off out of the room, leaving the now even more terrified guard to turn back to Faith momentarily, receiving a one fingered salute from her, before he tore out of the room also.
END OF CHAPTER 22