Thanks at the end of the chapter.
Chapter Eight – The Real McCoy
Was he ready to contact her? Wesley pondered that statement as he looked over his notes again for the millionth time. Would Faith accept his help? For all he knew, she was living the high life, slaying demons and happy as a clam. Which meant she probably would not want his help on anything.
So he would look into her life, figure out where she might need guidance, then back up and let her live her life. Too much interference wouldn't help matters, the book had said. It might result in changing of a destiny. Since he didn't know her destiny, that wouldn't do.
"Hey," Cordelia waved as she entered the cottage.
"Hello."
Wesley got up to pace the floor. The look on Cordelia's face worried him. She didn't like the fact that he had chosen Faith. This Cordelia hadn't been around when he had broken Faith out of prison to help capture Angelus. She didn't know how much the slayer had changed. Of course, Faith still had a long way to go to seek redemption. Her selfless sacrifice to take Angelus down had gone a long way in his mind to help her along that path.
"Are you ready?"
"I know you're still not comfortable with this, but it's what I have to do."
"You are on such a guilt trip right now. There's no talking to you anyhow."
"What do you remember of the past couple of years, Cordelia?"
Cordelia winced. Maybe she did remember more than she was letting on.
"I saw way too much. Let's just say, it wasn't fun sitting up here watching it all."
So she had seen some of it. How much though? Had she concentrated on Angel only?
"How much? The part where Angel was thrown out of a building? The part where your evil counterpart slept with Angel's son? Or the part where evil Cordy tried to take us all down?"
Tears welled up in Cordelia's eyes. So she had seen the harsh highlights of that horrendous year. Had seen what had happened to all of them, from the Beast to Angelus to Jasmine.
"I saw it all. I just wish that thing hadn't hijacked my body. I had tried so hard to get through to Angel. It didn't work. And when I came back for that one day, I thought the vision would help bring him back."
It hit Wesley what Cordelia was to Angel. She was his guardian angel. And like Doyle, she hadn't exactly helped in some of the situations.
"At least I got through to him about the hijacking. Thought he would never figure it out."
Which answered another one of his questions. Angel had figured out that evil Cordy was taking them for a ride. That she had let Angelus out of that cage. He always wondered how Angel had come to that conclusion. If he hadn't, then it would have been that much harder to defeat Jasmine in the end.
"You know, you probably would have been better off with Xander. At least he usually doesn't put himself in harm's way every day. Faith will be too busy slaying her little heart out to listen."
But Faith had listened to him the last time she had seen him. She had trusted him to formulate a plan to capture Angelus. She had trusted him with her very life, begrudgingly, but she had. He had become her watcher finally, pushing her to make the decision to inject herself with Orpheus. She hadn't liked his methods. Hell, he hadn't liked himself at that point either. But it was the only way he had seen fit to communicate with Faith. It had worked out in the end, thank goodness. It wasn't something he wanted to repeat.
He had changed the last year, at Wolfram and Hart. Angel taking away those memories had spared him for a little while, his mind finding a little peace. He had two sets of memories from the experience. One involved Connor, one did not. The idyllic world did not involve the boy, did not involve his neck being slashed, his friends leaving him out in the cold. But he never had lived in an idyllic world. His world had always been harsh and cruel, even when he was a child.
How he could change it for Faith, he couldn't fathom at the moment. He knew what kind of life she had led before being called. He also knew that she had lived on the edge for quite some time. He hoped the woman he would find now was more at peace. That would make his job so much easier.
"Do I get to know what has been happening with her? Do I walk in blind?"
"Thank God, yes, no blindness on your part. I would have pulled my hair out if I hadn't known about Angel's little vacation under the sea. Thank you for fixing that by the way."
"You're welcome, I think."
"There was no talking to the crazy vampire while he was playin' with the fishes. Although, you were taking way too many chances with him when you brought him up."
Wesley's arm still bore the scar of Angel's fang marks. And he also still bore all the scars that Faith had given him too. Why did the ones you love always hurt you the most?
"So, where is she now? I hope she's not in any predicament like Angel."
Cordelia grimaced then patted him on the arm. "Well, now that you mention it. She's not doin' so well. From the little that I've glimpsed, not so well at all."
"How do I see?"
"Oh, just think about her. Hey, you're a spirit or a ghost or whatever you want to call it. Not like she'll see you or anything."
Wesley was nervous. Almost as nervous meeting Faith for the first time. That time she had walked out on him, literally telling him to screw it. She hadn't taken kindly to him then. He was glad she couldn't see him now.
"OK, here goes."
Wesley closed his eyes, imagining what Faith had looked like a little over a year ago. The way she had looked as she had marched out of the hotel on Willow's heels, ready to go save the world with Buffy.
The images passed through quickly. Faith's ability to lead made him smile, although it didn't go swimmingly for her at first. Faith knew her limitations though. The battle with the First. His body felt every blow that Faith had received that day. But she had survived and thrived afterwards.
He could feel her turn inwards again a little later. Like she didn't fit, again. Yes, she did her job efficiently and with zest. There was no human connection. She didn't have any close friends. She didn't fraternize with her fellow new slayers. She did her job and that was it.
What he hadn't expected was her leaving Cleveland to arrive in Los Angeles. She knew that something had happened. How on earth had she realized what was going on? No one had called her, warned her of the impending battle. But she had come anyway, and had been too late. She was trying to help out as much as she could. Angel rebuffed her efforts. No surprise there.
At present, she sat on a bed reading. He had never known that she had liked reading. Having sent her a few books in prison, she had politely sent thank yous, but that was it. Angel had never known that Wesley even cared what happened to his slayer. She must have never mentioned it to the vampire. But now he could see that she enjoyed a book just as much as the rest of the world.
The tear down her cheek disturbed him. He never liked to see her sad. Since her usual expression was mostly angry at the world, this bothered him. So something must be wrong in her world. Faith hugged the book to her chest, tears still coming. When he saw what she was reading, recognizing them instantly, he gasped.
"She's reading them," he strained to say. He hadn't noticed that Cordelia was still in the room with him, he had been so enthralled with the passage of time for Faith.
"Reading what?"
"The diaries."
"You mean your watcher diaries? Boring stuff probably."
"No. Not those. The other ones. My diaries."
"Oops. Should have burned them you know."
"She'll know everything. Dammit, why?"
"Hey, you should have been like me. Say what you want whenever you want. Cuts down on the explainage."
She was reading his personal diaries. They had been hidden in his apartment. Which now that he realized that, she must be in his apartment to read them. In his bed, with one of his shirts on, he added to his scrambled brain.
"What, what do I do?"
"You're the dumbass, not me. Besides, what could she have found out that would damage you now?"
"Only my ability to help her."
"Must have been, oh, wait. You didn't?"
Wesley turned away from her, not wanting her to see his expression. Cordelia could always read him like a book.
"She'll know what a bumbling fool I was," he said, trying to hide his true feelings.
"Pfft. She already knew that. Faith isn't that stupid. What'd you write about her? That's it, isn't it? Huh?"
Wesley would not blush in front of Cordelia. He willed it to go away. But she smiled that knowing smile anyway.
"Hey, you're awfully cute when you blush. Work it out. It really can't be that bad."
"Oh, it is. It really is." Wesley reverted back a moment to the man he was when Cordelia and Angel saw when he first came to Los Angeles. Unsure of himself, but trying his hardest to do the right thing. How did he fix this enough for Faith to trust him? He wouldn't know until he tried.
Faith had gotten through several of Wesley's watcher diaries, skipping several months here and there just because she wanted him to move the story along. Man the guy could be so long winded about demons. She was bored though. She wanted the story to move along at a much faster pace. Unfortunately she had only made it up until right before the gang went to Pylea. The stories were amusing, she had to give her watcher that. There just seemed to be something missing in them.
Rummaging around the apartment, Faith looked through the front closet, wondering what else the man was hiding. She found an old shotgun on the top shelf, along with boxes of shells. As she climbed onto the short ladder, she brought all of this down to check it out. Banging the box down on the shelf, she noticed something odd. The wall behind it seemed to be loose. Quickly popping the side out, she felt around with her hand, hoping that he hadn't booby-trapped the hiding spot. Her hand closed over several thin books. Oh, joy, she thought. More books to pore over in her spare time. Spare time that she had in spades. Books, she had more than she thought humanly possible. Or at least more than a watcher should have.
Faith pulled them out and stepped off the ladder. In the dim light, she could make out nothing on the front covers. The set she discovered was bound together by a simple rubber band. Stepping back up the ladder, she felt around and found more books. A lot more books. By the time she was done, she had found twenty-five in all. And she wasn't even done searching the closet for more. She concluded that there probably were more stashed around the apartment.
So she took what looked like some of the most recent volumes and settled down on the couch. Opening them, she whistled. Now everything seemed to start making sense. These were the real McCoys. Not that babble of the watcher diaries she had found in the bedroom closet. Too easy to find. These were his real journals. She wondered if Giles possessed a set of these also. Or was this just something that old Wes had done for himself. He always was too much of a windbag.
She opened one, which had written September 2002 on the top of the page. Hey, she thought, that was just months before he had broken her out of prison. Now she'd get his true feelings.
"Whoa," she said out loud. "Get a load of this."
And she thought that Willow tended to ramble on about people. While the diaries had been polite in their assessment of the people populated by them, these were not at all. Wesley downright despised Angel. That she got from the first couple of sentences.
"That goddamn prick has gone and gotten himself cast into the sea by that godforsaken spawn of a son, Connor. I don't know for the life of me why I care what happens to him. It's his fault that he is in that predicament at the moment. If he had just kept it in his pants, then the child would not have been conceived and we could have lived our lives."
Faith stared in shock. Who in the hell was Connor? Angel had a son? What was going on? She was sure that the journal was in Wesley's handwriting. So it had to have happened. She kept reading.
"But she'll tell me one way or another. Justine will break soon. It's just a matter of time. She'll tell me where she and Connor sank Angel. It's a big ocean out there. It's just a matter of time. The cage is holding up nicely. Lilah has no idea that Justine can hear every sound she makes. Every sound."
Faith knew about Lilah. Knew that Wesley had to chop her head off because Angelus might have turned her. At least that she remembered. But in the back of her mind, something told her that she was missing pieces. That these journals will fill in those pieces. So she kept reading, wondering what on earth had changed him so much in so little time. Hell, she'd had a lifetime to be who she was. What was his excuse?
"Lilah is a convenience. Something to bury my misery for just a while. If Angel knew, life would not be pleasant. But why would I care what he thinks. I think I'll tell him once I find him just to see his reaction. Might send him over the edge. Would be interesting to see. It would show him just how far to the dark side I have gone. Or he just might be jealous that he didn't get there first. I could never tell with him. He and Lilah had a complicated relationship to say the least. It was either fuck her or kill her. I could never tell which. I seemed to have fallen the same way."
Damn, Faith thought. So our boy really did fall to the dark side for a while. Lilah must have pursued him hot and heavy for him to go for it. Because by the time she had come back on the scene, Wesley had at least pulled himself together so he could function around Angel.
Faith flipped through a couple more, wanting to find out the journal where she had appeared. It took some time, so Faith settled onto the bed, her favorite reading spot. It was much more comfortable than the lumpy couch, and had soft sheets. Pulling the covers close, she flipped through a couple more until she found her name. She just hoped her curiosity would be fulfilled, not her hopes crushed.
"Faith. Why do I think she can help us? Because of her bond with Angel. Angel had saved her from certain death. She has a debt to repay him. So she'll not stake on sight. Buffy just might, considering she had sent him to hell once before. Faith will do just about anything for the vampire. It will be much easier to convince her that capture is the best way to handle the situation. Lord knows if I had the strength I would perform the task. But, alas, I do not. My only talent is the books. Or unless I wanted to put a bullet between the vampire's eyes. Might incapacitate him for a while, but I still wouldn't gain the knowledge I need to bring the Beast down. Angelus in a cage is the only way."
So he trusted her. That was good, she thought. Probably a first though. When had anyone ever trusted her? B had trusted her for a while to slay beside her. But now things were different. Lots of people trusted her. She hoped. She read a later entry, after he had broken her out of prison.
"How lovely it was to fall out a five story window. I thought I had broken a few bones, but thankfully I landed just right so as to not. The bruises though are already tender to the touch. Faith looks older, more tired. We must mirror each other. I am older, more tired than I ever have been. But she is willing to fix my mistake. Bully for her. I just hope that she's strong enough. She's not back in the game. I tested her. She did her job. But not with the zest she is known for. If something doesn't happen soon, I will be sending her to her grave."
So he'd figured it out and not told her. She knew that she wasn't quite up to snuff. His little demonstration hadn't convinced her of anything. He knew her too well. She thought she had looked ready. She scanned forward to right after the Beast had beaten her into a bloody mess.
"Oh God, what have I done? She wasn't ready. I knew this, but I let her take the chance. I need to pull her back, think about a different strategy. I wanted to go to her, tell her that it was over. She wouldn't even let me touch her, bandage her up. Until I insisted that is. So much blood from such a small body. Her skin was on fire as I touched the cuts. It wouldn't due to tell her how much I admired what she had sacrificed to bring Angelus down, even though in the end it was the Beast. She'd throw it back in my face. And she'd probably punch my lights out if I suggested that I kiss every hurt on her body."
Faith literally tossed the journal sideways. Now that was not expected. She couldn't believe what she just read. Damn, he had the hots for her. Was he sick or what? She tortured him. She got him fired from the Council. She called him every name in the book. She had tried to kill him and his little friends in Sunnydale. She had punched Cordelia in the face. Did the man like pain? From what she could tell about his relationship with Lilah, pain had been something that he liked. Her skin crawled a little as she thought about him, in that way.
As she picked up the journal again, she gingerly opened it back to the page she was reading. Maybe he was just horny from the fight. Hell, she'd been horny as soon as they had flown through that window. But she had control of herself. She never, ever thought that Wes wanted a tumble. Sure, she had thought about it too much, with him in particular, but how could he?
"But that was not what she needed at the moment. She needed a watcher. And that's what I'll be to her." Good, she thought. A moment of insanity on his part. But she kept reading, looking for instances of any kind of feelings. Man, were the entries peppered with them. Oh boy, maybe she should have left the journals alone.
"She agreed with me today that it would take something powerful to bring down Angelus. The drug would provide that possibility. It was a last resort. And it scared me down to my toes to give her the syringe. She took it from me without hesitation. She would be ready, she told me. What she wasn't ready for was my attitude. When she first saw me at the prison, she said I looked good. What she meant was I looked as she did not more than three years before. She was the one clawing herself out of the ground, seeking redemption. I was just existing. But something stirs in me when I'm with her. Something I thought buried since coming to Los Angeles. My need to be her watcher weighs heavily on my mind. I don't want to be her watcher, the way a normal watcher should act. I see her as a very desirable woman. Not something a watcher should feel. I wonder if Giles ever had those feelings toward Buffy. I think not, but one never knows. I want her in the worst way. In that alley, I saw the real Faith. The Faith that had redeemed herself. I wanted to bury myself in her strength."
Oh my God, she thought. This is starting to sound like a porn flick, or one of those really steamy romance novels. How would have she reacted if he had made a move on her? She really didn't know. Yeah, sure he was damn attractive. Sure, he was definitely bedroom material. But he was Wesley. He was her watcher. And here she was reading his innermost thoughts. Things that had been kept secret from everyone. No one knew this. Now she did. Why did he have to write this stuff down?
The next page was stained with tears, she was sure since the pages were crinkled. Did he feel something, like sadness as she lay there in that bed dying? "I've killed her. I sent her to her death. Why did I not die along with her? Angelus surely tried to end my life. But he bit Faith, not me. And the drug pulled her under too well. I must have made the dose too strong. Both are out now. Lorne says that she will die. Another girl will be called in her place, to die too young. What have I done? Now, I will never get the chance to tell her how proud I am of her. She has fulfilled her duty to the extreme. It's all that a watcher can ask of a slayer."
Faith had started to cry also. Dammit, he hadn't said one word to her. He had thought she was going to die. No chance to tell her a thing. Then she had suddenly woken up and headed to Sunnydale. Sure, they had literally stared each other into the ground right before she left, but this? He was proud of her? That hurt more than the thoughts about screwing her. She never got the chance to do either. As she hugged the personal journal to her chest, she thought about what could have been. That pit of despair just kept getting larger and larger.
Next: Wesley really will contact her and I need some more Spike-age. I just can't get the fact out of my mind that he might just be able to help Illyria. We'll see. I also want to have a little bit of Angel. Man, is he depressing in this story.
Author thanks: OK, I can cry now. I know, too emotional for words. You guys are so great. The reviewers at this site are the best. So to answer some questions. And one of my screw-ups. Argh—No one noticed that I referred to Angel as Spike's sire. I meant grandsire. Stupid mistake. I know I've made others. Catch them and tell me. I did it not once, but twice.
To WhiteRabbit – thanks for the comments regarding Illyria. She's so hard to capture. I'm hoping to do a little more.
To shahid—No, you are totally right. I made a bad word choice. It should have said that Wesley was becoming more like Giles, not just like Giles. And this is Spike's point of view. He's not known for his deep thinking. I was making a generalization is all. Thanks for the catch. Please keep reading. And Wood is coming, I promise. Someone has to take Faith's wrath in person, and I don't want it to be Giles at the moment. Thanks for the idea.
Par106—thanks for the review. I like new reviewers. This has been the hardest story I've done so far.
And to the others reading – Tariq, Imzadi, Steph, and whoever else is reading, please review and give me ideas since this is just going chapter by chapter. Thanks again!!!