Chapter Nine – Bring Me to Life
The face of "evil" is always the face of total need.—William S. Burroughs
Lilah really wanted to tell Lindsey that he'd never succeed, but who was she to rain on his parade. Was she telling him everything he wanted to know? Not on her dead life. It was always good to hold things back until she needed something. Besides, she liked playing him.
"Lilah, dear. Time to go home," the voice inside of her head instructed.
Her white knuckled grip on the desk wasn't apparent to anyone in the room but her. Good to guard against those weaknesses, she thought. The room faded until she was back in her old room, in her parents' house, back in Northern California. Damn it, she wasn't some scared little girl any more. She was in control of her own destiny, abet the destiny that she threw away to get all that she wanted out of life.
"Hello, Lilah. Did you have a good day?" her mother asked from her door.
"Fine, Mom."
It would start soon. Impossibly, she could feel her heart beat faster. Paperwork she could deal with. Vampires, lawyers, crazy, insane ex-watchers, she could deal with. Family, her own family, she couldn't.
"Lilah, dear. There you are," her father leered at her from the doorway. "We've been waiting," he announced as the hand that had been behind his back came around him, something shining in it.
Lilah's eyes widened considerably. What she wouldn't do just to fill out paperwork, endless amounts of paperwork. She swallowed visibly at the sight before her.
"Shall we begin?"
The day had turned cloudy suddenly, sputtering rain against the windows as Giles prepared tea and coffee for the group. Wesley was the only one not in attendance, having been put in a small room at the top of the stairs. It would be cramped with all the people he had to house, Giles realized, but it was all he could offer. At least here, Willow and he could put up wards to keep the law firm's wizards from breaking in. The less people they had to protect the better. He winced when he sat in the seat that Buffy had vacated for him. His thigh bloody well hurt. His head was intact this time though, having been concussed way too many times for him to count.
"Willow and I realize that you all are eager to have Wesley back in the land of the living," Giles continued. "But as you know, it will not be that easy. At the moment, he is catatonic. We don't know the cause of this state. But we may have a way to bring him out of it."
"Giles, what if he doesn't want to come out and play? How do we know that he's not gonna die again?" Faith asked, throwing her hands up in frustration at the whole situation.
They had convinced Faith that he would be fine by himself for the moment. But would Faith be all right away from him for any amount of time? They would have to isolate Wesley if he and Willow were going to perform the ritual effectively.
"Not if we can help it," Angel answered for him.
Angel put a reassuring hand on Faith's shoulder.
"Then we should get started," Willow told the rest.
"I do have to remind each of you, that Council resources are being spent on someone who is no longer in its employ. It's highly irregular, Rupert. The man does not have any use to the new order," Clarisse pointed out.
"Angel, one snap. That's all it would take," Faith growled.
Angel held onto her arm, to make sure she didn't carry out the threat.
"Living up to your reputation, I see," Clarisse said as she backed away from Faith.
"Clarisse, oh do shut up," Giles said as he took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "Wesley needs our help and we're going to give it to him. If you can't be quiet, maybe you'd care to join Angel and Spike in the basement."
Both Angel and Spike smirked in unison, like they'd practiced making that similar a scary face. Clarisse immediately shut up, backing away to lean against the wall. Giles had observed Sam watching from a distance also, but not contributing to the discussion whatsoever. He'd make a good watcher some day, Giles thought. Observation was one of those skills that watchers needed in ready supply. Contributing to this mess was something he really didn't need or appreciate right then.
"Now, Willow and I must prepare for what we need to do."
Giles gingerly stood up from his chair, helped by Xander. Faith started to make her way back up the stairs, but Willow stopped her forward progress.
"You have to stay down here," Willow told her.
"No way am I stayin' down here."
"Trust them, Faith," Spike said as he made his way over to her. "Glenda the good witch will fix him right up. Make him a real boy again in no time."
"That fuckin' didn't make any sense," Faith mumbled, but backed down from Willow.
"There's no place like home," Buffy added. "Hey, Willow worked her wonky magicks on me to bring me back."
"No, Buffy. It will be me performing the ritual," Giles announced.
"Oh no, old boy. I don't think so," Ethan Rayne called from the doorway.
"There is danger," a voice whispered in Wesley's ear.
Just like the last time. He saw the demons enter the Watchers' Council headquarters like it was a movie playing in his mind. That's how he knew there was danger coming for them. The alarm was sounded again, only this time it wasn't Wolfram and Hart. This threat was much more ominous, definitely more dangerous than the damn law firm.
"He must not succeed in his task."
Before Wesley could make it to the door, he gasped in pain. One of the other three had been hit with an immense amount of power. Wesley had to stop whatever this creature was before he found what he was looking for.
Staggering down the stairs, his senses picked out what he thought was burnt flesh. He could see Angel dive for someone, which looked to be Buffy from the blonde hair, taking her down before a bolt of blue energy crackled directly above his head. Jumping down the last stairs, Wesley immediately saw people diving for cover. Behind him, Faith lay in a heap on the floor, burn marks covering her shoulder and neck.
Before he could even take the rest of the scene in, Wesley fired back with his own bolt of deadly electricity, hitting the figure square in the chest. The figure flinched somewhat, then took aim directly at him. Wesley thought he could withstand whatever was thrown at him, but Spike had other plans, shoving him down at the knees to the floor. The blue energy again snapped above their heads. It reminded him of something he had seen before.
Climbing to his feet, Spike was up and making his way towards the figure in all the ensuing chaos, as was Willow. The rest were either hiding, like Clarisse, or were injured. He had been wrong to assume that Angel hadn't been hit by the blast. In knocking Buffy out of the way, he had taken some of the force of the energy. From his spot on the floor, he could see that Angel was in a considerable amount of pain. Wesley heaved himself up and started forward.
"Ethan," Giles shouted above the din of confusion.
Another wash of energy burst forth, but this time it encompassed every surface. Wesley tried to get off another shot, anything to disrupt what this person was doing. Only he was thrown off his feet, landing heavily on his backside, directly next to Faith's unconscious form. Through the smoke of the battle, he could see three distinct shapes over near the energy source. Then with a bright flash, the shapes disappeared in the blink of an eye.
"No," the voice screamed in his head, not pleased that the flash had happened.
Sinking down the rest of the way next to Faith, Wesley tried to keep himself from going under yet again. His limbs felt quite heavy, so he lay back on the cold wood floor, hoping that this time, he would just sleep. Only it wasn't to be. He was slipping back into whatever self-induced coma he had put himself in. He couldn't even help his friends when needed. He had failed yet again to protect Faith. His last gesture was to touch his hand with hers, hoping that she would heal from her injuries quickly. His hand intertwined with hers as he fell under, trapped in his mind yet again.
Sam awoke with the worst headache he had ever experienced in his life. One moment he was standing off to the side, listening to Mr. Giles go on about what he would do for Faith's former watcher, then the next moment, he was flying up against the wall, landing with a loud thud. That was the last thing he remembered before the world went black. Holding his head, he sat up to inspect the damage. The smoke floating in the air didn't help his blurry eyesight one bit to see what had happened. He heard groans off to the left side of him. Scurrying over to the sound, he saw the vampire Angel struggling to get up, definitely in a huge amount of pain. He also saw Buffy trying to pull herself up off the ground.
"Giles," she croaked out.
"Buffy? What happened?" he asked her.
"Where's Giles? Willow," she called out.
"Bastard," Angel managed to moan out.
Buffy dropped down onto one knee to inspect the damage that was done to the vampire.
"Check on the others," she choked out, coughing as she did so.
He could see Xander crumpled up against the opposite wall where he had been standing not moments before. Must have been taken down by that first intense blast, Sam thought. Being human really did suck. Over near the stairs, he heard a screech of pain. Slowly the smoke started to clear from whatever energy had been dispelled. Or whatever spell had been cast. He didn't know which.
What he didn't understand was how these people drew bad luck like flies. They all were hot, as in someone wanted them dead. It wouldn't be good to take out the two most senior slayers along with the head of the council. That wouldn't look good on his record. But he had no way to tell what was going on, how to combat what had just appeared. And by the looks of things, neither did the slayers, nor the witch, who was nowhere to be found.
He could hear what he thought sounded like Faith cursing up a storm underneath her breath. When he found her at the foot of the stairs, he could see that she was badly injured. Her shoulder and neck were badly burned by the blast. Only there wasn't any fire to speak of. Her watcher lay next to her, hand grasping hers tightly. How did he make it down the stairs when supposedly he was in some kind of coma? And was the man's hand holding hers now tinged blue?
"What happened?" Faith gritted through her teeth, looking up at him.
Sam didn't know the first place to start. He thought about calling for help, because Faith probably could use a doctor. And maybe Xander too.
"I don't know. Whatever invaded knocked me unconscious."
Sam bent down to take a look at her injuries. She shivered a little as he tried to peel back the burnt layer of clothing from her skin.
"Help me sit up," she grounded out.
"Faith, we need to get you to a hospital. That burn looks bad."
"Not happenin'. Where's everyone else? B?" she yelled.
"Angel's down," Buffy cried back. "Willow? Spike?"
"Don't know. Bad guy went for me first." Faith cursed under her breath again. "How did Wes get down here?" she asked Sam.
Sam shrugged a reply. "Let me see your shoulder."
Sam gently peeled away the layer that was stuck to the skin. Faith gritted her teeth at his action. "No more," she told him.
He could see the unshed tears in her eyes. It must really hurt to almost make her cry, he realized.
"Wesley, you need to let go of my hand," she commanded of the comatose man lying next to her. "No, don't you dare."
Sam didn't understand why she was speaking to Wesley. He was out for the count. It didn't make any sense to him.
"Angel, where are you going?" Buffy commanded of the vampire.
He staggered over to his two companions, dropping down onto his knees after that much effort. "He's trying to heal you, Faith. Let him," Angel winced out in pain.
"I feel that every time he does that, he slips deeper and deeper into whatever grave he's dug for himself."
"We need you at full strength, Faith."
Angel's hand snaked out to touch where the other two were linked.
"Sam, check on Xander for me. I'll take care of this. Please?" Buffy asked him quietly, looking over at her fallen friend.
Only Clarisse had beaten him to it, gently cradling the man's head in her hands. He went over to assist as much as he could, keeping an eye on the happenings near the stairs. Looking around, he didn't see Mr. Giles, Willow, nor the other vampire they called Spike. It seemed they had disappeared into thin air.
"Where's Mr. Giles?" he asked Clarisse.
He could see the bruise on her forehead starting to swell. She must have gotten hit too from whatever had attacked them so suddenly.
"I'm not sure. He was there one moment, then gone. It all happened so fast."
So she had no idea what happened either.
"Oh God, someone get me a bucket of aspirin, stat," Xander groaned from his position on the floor.
"Thank goodness you're awake. You took a nasty blow to the head," Clarisse declared.
Sam shook his head when he saw the concern cross Clarisse's face for Xander. And here he thought that she hated the man with a passion considering how much they had argued not too many hours before.
"Where's Willow? Buffy, we gotta help them. Damn it, he's here."
"Who's here?" Sam asked carefully.
"This time, I'm gonna break his neck myself."
"Who?" Clarisse asked the prone man.
"Ethan Rayne."
Angel concentrated on not passing out as he linked his hand with Faith and Wesley. It just kind of seemed like the thing to do, if just to give the slayer some comfort, because she looked on the verge of wigging out, as Buffy would say.
"Faith, he's OK," he insisted.
"I want him to fuckin' wake up now," she said to him, not wanting Angel to touch.
Angel gently placed his hand over hers, which was linked with Wes. Wesley's heart beat nice and strong, which was a good sign. Faith's beat twice as fast, probably because of the injury on her shoulder and neck. The smell of burnt flesh even made his skin crawl.
"He's not hurt, Faith. Let him help. He can't do it without me. Willow and Giles aren't here to help."
"What?" Buffy gasped. "Where are they? Did you see what happened?"
While Buffy turned around to look for her friends, Faith encircled part of his hand with hers, still holding onto part of Wesley's. Angel couldn't worry right that moment about Giles and Willow, or even Spike, who seemed to have disappeared with the other two. He thought he had seen the three somehow make their way over to the person attacking them. Then they were gone in a flash of smoke and light. Portal probably, Angel thought to himself.
"Gone," Angel told her. "Portal opened up behind the attacker."
"Buffy, Ethan Rayne, the bastard," Xander said from behind her, propped up by Clarisse and Sam.
"What would he want with the three of them?" Buffy asked Angel.
Only Angel couldn't concentrate on Buffy at the moment, since someone else had spoken to him in his head. The voice sounded oh so familiar. "You must hurry. You must find him before the ritual is performed. The three of you are the only ones who can stop this," the haunting voice called out.
No, he thought. Blue spread across his hand and Faith's as the pain in his back eased somewhat.
"You're not going to take me over," he insisted as he pulled his hand back from the other two.
Faith also pulled her hand away from Wesley's, staring at the new color. "Angel?" she whispered.
Angel grabbed Wesley, turning him over, wanting to shake him awake. Only Wesley knew all there was to know about Illyria. He was the only one to study the Old One at length. Angel had been too worried at the time about the law firm and the Circle of the Black Thorn to be concerned with Illyria.
"Now would be a good time to wake up," Angel called out to his friend. "Where's the book that had the spell in it?" Angel asked Buffy.
"We need to get Giles and Willow back. Now."
"If we don't get Wes back, Giles and Willow might not make it either. And this time, I will snap that little creep's neck, human or not," Angel wanted Buffy to know.
"And I'll help you do it," Xander added, before making his way over to the table where Giles had laid out his books. "This one," he said as he handed Angel a large tome.
Giles had marked the page with a bookmark. Reading it over quickly, Angel knew that he would have to perform the ritual right then. Ethan, Illyria, Wesley, they were all mixed up in this somehow. He just didn't know whom he could trust. Well, he knew he could trust Wesley, but his power? Where had that come from? And was Illyria controlling him?
"That spell is very dangerous," Clarisse chimed in, stating the obvious.
"Not much of a choice," Angel ground out.
Xander handed him the mortar and pedestal that Willow had been grinding a mixture in while Giles had been making tea.
"It says that I need to sprinkle this around Wes. OK, I can do this," Angel tried to tell himself.
"Angel, don't mess up," Faith reminded him, looking glum.
"When I find him, I am going to tear him limb from limb," Giles growled out as he paced the forest floor. "How do we gain access?"
"Not sure," Spike answered, not wanting to get on the pissed off watcher's bad side.
His hand hurt something fierce. As he looked down, he could see the blue almost glowing on it. It hurt as it throbbed. And it shouldn't throb, since he didn't have a heartbeat. What had she done, he chanted in his mind? What had she bloody done to him? But he didn't think that she was responsible for bringing them to the Deeper Well. Ethan Rayne was. And he wasn't anywhere in sight.
"Drogyn was here the last time. We fought some of his minions, gained access. It's not like I took notes like Percy would."
"Spike, why is your hand blue?" Willow asked, really quiet until now.
"Not quite sure. Do know that it bloody well hurts. Alright, that's it. Blue, show your face right now. I'm getting stinkin' tired of bein' jerked around like a puppet. I know you're here."
Something tapped him on the shoulder. Startled, he turned quickly, ready to smash down whatever had touched him. When he swung out, he spun in a circle, his fist connecting with nothing. Only Illyria stood before him, kind of like in his dream. This time Giles and Willow saw her too.
"As I have been here, half-breed. You must hurry. There is no time to waste."
"If you don't stop bein' so cryptic, nothin's gonna happen."
"You must go into the Well. Find a way in before the other does."
"What other?" Giles piped up.
Before Illyria could answer, a large shape moved through the trees, stomping them flat as it made progress. Spike's eyes adjusted before the two humans had. It was massive, claws scraping against the ground as it lumbered over to try and wipe them off the face of the earth.
"Wanna tell me who or what that is, Blue?" Spike asked as they all backed up toward the entrance.
"My mate. The one who put me in the hole in the first place. You must stop it."
"Yeah, well, like to be in one piece, Illyria. That thing looks a bit out of my league."
"But not out of mine," Willow chimed in, throwing a fireball the creature's way.
It hit and fell away like it was a fly hitting a bug zapper.
"Spike, if you have a plan?" Giles asked.
"I think hiding is in order." Spike took off for the tree that hid the entrance to the Deeper Well. Giles and Willow were hot on his heels.
Lindsey walked into the cottage, hoping that Fred was around for him to ask a favor. He needed her help, but he didn't know how to ask her to do what he needed done. She'd probably refuse, he figured.
She was sitting at a table, books strewn across it haphazardly. Her fingers were curled around a pencil, furiously scratching something on paper. While he went at research as something to be fought and conquered, Fred came at it from a totally different viewpoint. Analytical, line everything up until an answer presented itself. The math alone would kill him. No, give him an argument to try in a court of law, he could sway anyone. Let him try and read one of those books, add it all up in a formula, then no way.
The sun shone in, making her hair light up almost like she had a halo around her. She was magical, he suddenly thought, not sure where that came from. He enjoyed spending time with her. Then he realized that was what got him into trouble in the first place. A woman, charming her way in, making him see things that weren't there. Eve had charmed her way into his quiet, sedate, non-Wolfram and Hart life, and told him he could take on the law firm and win. Instead, he ended up dead on the floor of a bar, shot by a green demon with whom he always thought about singing a duet. Life was funny. He really should stay away from women.
But looking at Fred, he realized that he couldn't. Whether they were evil to the core like Darla or Lilah, he still couldn't ignore the fact that he liked the way they smelled, the way they moved, the way they made him feel alive. Only he wasn't alive anymore. Angel had seen to that.
So he would concentrate on solving this problem and any other problems that came up. Then maybe one day, the Powers would grant him a wish to not go to hell. Hell, he'd work this job forever, if that's what it took.
"Fred?" he finally was able to get out.
She turned and her smile widened at the sight of him. Was that for him only? Since he didn't really know her, maybe it was just reserved for him.
"Hey. What'd you find out?"
"Nothing. I got bubkis. So we need to go on a little field trip."
"Uh, we?" Her smile fell just a little.
"Yeah. I need to ask you a favor." He sure was asking a lot of favors in the last few hours.
"Just as long as it doesn't involve that freaky Old One, I'm there."
He knew it. She wouldn't go with him. But he had to ask. "I need your help. My sources say I need to go to the Deeper Well. And I'm thinkin' that it's a good idea."
Fred slammed her book closed and neatly placed it on a stack. Taking a deep breath, she turned to look him in the eye. "No."
"Oh, damn it, girl. Just put aside your differences."
Oops, wrong time to put his foot in his mouth. She slowly got up to face him.
"She slowly killed me, ate me up from the inside out, flung my soul to scatter in the wind, with nothing to hold onto, tortured my friends with her presence. They just aren't differences Lindsey, they're chasms the size of the Grand Canyon."
"What, you think I don't know what you're talking about? Angel sent Lorne to kill me. Not him, Lorne. Some green demon who didn't have a violent bone in his body before he met Angel."
Oh geez, he did it again. The stricken look on Fred's face should have told him to stop his tirade, that he had made his point.
"They killed me after I helped them take down some pretty nasty demons. Angel didn't understand that I was trying to help. I was tired of always being on the wrong side."
"That's maybe because you were always trying to advance evil's agenda. How many times did you try to kill Angel?"
Lindsey was speechless. Fred was correct. He wanted Angel dead, many times over. But it had nothing to do with whether Angel was good or bad. It had to do with the fact that Angel had beaten him every single time. The one-upmanship had become the game. Not the battle of good against evil.
"Too many times," Lindsey whispered his reply back. "He saw it. He knew what I was and why I did what I did."
"Why, Lindsey? And if you give me any crap about your stupid crappy childhood, I'm gonna sock you one."
Should he tell her that he just wanted to matter to someone? That he wanted the power that Wolfram and Hart offered him because he'd never had that before in his life? Million and one excuses, no reason as to why he shouldn't have bailed out many years ago.
"I wanted control. And all I got was heartache. No more. I'm gonna do good. I'm gonna do what I'm supposed to do. If I have to die trying."
"Uh, Lindsey. Already did that. Didn't work out so good."
Lindsey chuckled. Fred was right. He had died trying. Angel had seen through his ruse at the end. Yeah, he had wanted control of Wolfram and Hart, to have that kind of power in his hands and no one else. He wanted Angel to go down. Well, he went down hard, and Angel survived, just like he always did.
"Come with me, Fred?" Lindsey implored.
Putting his hand on hers, he drew it up and held on tight. Her eyes softened at his gesture.
"Why did I ever let that bitch manipulate me?" he mumbled as he walked out the door.
Eve, Darla, Lilah, every woman in his life had manipulated him until he couldn't see straight. But now he finally saw. With Fred's hand in his, he finally saw it all.
Angel read over the spell for the billionth time, making sure he had all the parts down as best he could. He didn't want to accidentally transport himself to Pylea or blow up the house with some mispronunciation of anything.
Faith paced around beside him, looking like she'd hit him if he didn't hurry it up.
"Got it. The powder spread where it needs to go?"
Xander shook his head yes, settling by the doorway of the small room at the top of the stairs. Angel had carried Wesley back up the stairs with the help of Xander and Sam, since Faith was in no condition to lift anything. Buffy had tried helping tend her wound, but Faith shrugged her off.
"OK, the rest of you out." All but Faith immediately complied, knowing that he needed room, not an audience. "Stay out of the way."
Angel was frightened. His use of magicks didn't always end up well. Case in point, trying to gain entrance to a portal to Quortoth. That had ended up in a big, fat mess, with the exiled Wes giving them the cure for Fred. It would be a snap for Wes to do this ritual. He'd be lucky if he didn't blow the place up.
Going through the ritual, he chanted where he needed to chant, sprinkled the powder when he needed to sprinkle. Nothing happened. Looking back over the pages, he couldn't find where he had made a mistake. Either Xander picked the wrong book or he picked the wrong page. Or he wasn't powerful enough to perform what needed to be done. Reading over the instructions again, something hit him.
"Damn," he whispered to himself.
From what he had finally interpreted, he discovered that he had to be alive. Not a dead being, not a vampire. To be able to pull Wesley back, he had to have a heartbeat. He couldn't perform the ritual. Growling under his breath, he slammed the book closed, trying to think of an alternative to wake Wesley up.
"Soul boy, get on with it. Times a wastin'."
"I can't," he simply told her.
"What the fuck? Give me that book," she said as she wrenched the book out of his hands.
"Faith, no, wait," he told her while she opened the page and started to read.
At least it's been translated to English, Angel thought as Faith started to read what it said. The world slowed down for him as he watched the words slowly form on her lips. Slow motion was so overrated. Why did it have to happen right that instant? Unless it was a side effect of the ritual. She hadn't even gotten to the sprinkling of the powder part when he felt it drawing him in. He didn't even hear the thud of the book as Faith felt the power and slipped under with him.
"This is majorly f'ing crazy. What nut job thought that this was a spell?"
Faith was thoroughly, absolutely ticked beyond belief. Wesley was supposed to be out of his little coma and the two of them back to normal. Well, whatever that normal was, which wasn't this so lameass dream sequence.
She was back at Wesley's apartment. It was deathly quiet. Not even so much as a car honking. Freaked her out beyond whatever. Was she supposed to find him and bring him out? Was this his personal hell? Well, it'd be her personal hell if she had to spend all of her time cooped up in this apartment. Oops, wait. Already did that when she went through her "episode" a couple of months back. Personal hells really did suck big time.
The longer Wesley had been out of it, the more time she had to think about what had happened. He was wussing out was her only conclusion. Why else had he not fought back? Dying wasn't good enough for him, he had to go and hide in his mind so she could drag him kicking and screaming back to reality. This saving crap wasn't happening any more.
"Wes? Oh, Wes. Get your ass out here right now."
Nothing happened. Now she'd have to be forceful.
"Get your lazy ass out here right now, or I'll rip up your books."
No response. She really didn't have much patience left to search the apartment. Too many insults and threats were zooming through her brain right then. She needed to hold her tongue if she wanted him to come out of whatever shell he had put himself in.
Slowly, painstakingly, she made her way through the apartment. It was immaculate. Everything in its place. Books alphabetized, dishes washed, bed made, towels hung. Totally not the way she had found it the last time, the time when she had moved in and made it her own little prison.
"Wes, this is so getting on my last nerve."
She even looked under the bed. Why would she be sent here if he wasn't here? The only place she hadn't looked was the closet. Now that creeped her out. As good a hiding place as any, she thought. Her spot was always in some cabinet when she was little. Made it hard for her mother's boyfriends to find her.
Pulling the door open, she peered around the clothes, but he wasn't there. Then it came to her. Hidey-hole. He must have one somewhere. Just like when she found his diaries. The man was too secretive for words. He had to have a place to hide just in case the boogeyman came a knockin' on his door. Or in his case, it could have been her doing the knocking.
Faith closed her eyes, trying to sense movement, breathing, anything that might indicate where he was hiding. Someone else was in that apartment. Her senses tingled. She didn't get sent there just to piss herself off. He was here. She just had to find him.
It took a while to figure out where the hidden door was located, but she finally was able to find it.
"Damn watcher," she cursed under her breath.
Only when she tried to open it, it wouldn't budge. Nothing could hold her out for long. The wood finally splintered on the third try of pounding the bejesus out of it. Pushing her hand in the hole, she pulled with all her might until it gave under the pressure, flying off the hidden hinges to crash against the floor. Only she didn't like what she saw on the other side.
Bars. Metal bars. And they were locked tight. It might be something that she couldn't find a way into. But the breathing was unmistakable. No light shown in, but she knew he was there. Hiding, in the corner, not moving other than to breathe in and out.
"Wes? Where's the key?" she asked him calmly.
The breathing hitched a little, but no other sound came out. If that's all the reaction she managed to get out of him, she'd be here for days trying to convince him to come out.
"This is not supposed to happen," she started. "I'm the one that belongs in a prison cell, not you."
Laughter wasn't what she expected next. He was laughing at her. Or agreeing with her. She didn't know which. But this wasn't a fun laugh, this was a I'm batshit crazy laugh. She just hoped that she didn't have to smack him down if he went insano-guy on her.
"Yeah, I'm funny girl. Why don't you come on over here and tell me how funny I am."
The laughter stopped. Great, she thought. Here she got a reaction out of him and ruined it all in one minute.
"How about this guy walks into this bar?" she began.
"Jokes. At a time like this. Faith, you surprise me."
Double freakin' great, she sighed. Now he's pissed off Wesley. When will she get a break?
"I'm full of surprises. Come on out and I'll show you."
"Honestly, you think that I would fall for that."
Now this was really pissing her off. Seriously enough that she wanted to hit him, maybe hold him down, maybe, just maybe slice into him a little, draw some blood. She wanted to hurt him, needed to hurt him in the worst way. What in hell was wrong with her?
Slowly, she backed away from the cage, running into a chair in the way. Wesley finally came into view, came into the light that was shining into the cage. He looked exactly like he did the night she had tortured him.
"Come to take another pound of flesh?" Wesley clipped out, accent just as strong as it had been back in Sunnydale.
Her skin crawled, her mind whirled. This was not happening. She didn't want to hit him, slice into him. She just wanted to get him away from all of this. She didn't want to fail him this time. Because this time she didn't think he'd come back.
"I came to take you back to your friends. Remember? Angel? I thought . . . ," she offered.
The maniacal laugh was back at the mention of Angel. "The vampire with a soul," Wesley spat out. "My friend? How many times did he kill me?"
Was this a trick question? Wesley only died once. It wasn't like he was Buffy or anything.
"I'm not followin'. You only died once."
"I was tortured, shot, bitten, smothered, had my throat slit. I died each and every time. Don't you understand?"
"Nah. Buffy gutted me and I was in a coma for eight months. I got better. And you did too. You don't even have slayer healing."
"No, I suppose I don't," he exploded, punching his fist into the bar.
She could hear the bones crunch under the weight of the punch. God, that must have hurt, she figured. But he just stood there at the bars like nothing had happened.
"Tell me where the key is?" she asked again.
"There isn't one. I'm here, you're there. That's not going to change."
Faith stomped over to the door of the cage again. "It will if I have anything to say about it."
Wesley grabbed her, trying to push her away. Shoving him back from the door, she pounded on it with her powerful legs until the lock gave way.
"Should have known it wouldn't hold."
Wesley's back collided with the far wall. He slid down until he landed with a thud, cradling his injured hand. Grimacing, he looked up at her as she walked up to him.
"Why are you here?" he cried.
"I'm here to save your ass. Why don't you care?"
"Maybe I don't wish to be saved."
"Would you care if I said I don't give a rat's ass what your wishes are?"
"How do you think you'll get around him?"
Him? What him? Now watcherboy was crazy. It was just the two of them. In the silence that was really starting to get on her nerves. Her very last fucking nerve.
"Huh? You wanna fill me in?"
"He'll lock you in a cage and throw away the key too."
The shadow behind her wasn't fast enough. Faith's leg shot out and caught the figure mid-thigh, eliciting a moan of pain. Twirling around, she then slugged the person directly in the face, bringing him down to the ground.
"I'd forgotten how fast you slayers are," the figure on the ground said.
Faith swung out her leg in a roundhouse kick, bringing the man completely down to the floor. Cautiously, she poked him with her toe, wanting the bastard to be lights out.
"Oh, bloody hell, this hurts," Wesley moaned from behind her.
The lights were back on in the man's head, she hazarded a guess. While his eyes had been dull and lifeless while she had talked the nonsense with him, now they were blazing. He looked like he was going to get his fightin' shoes on any minute.
"Welcome back to the land of the, wherever the hell we are. Time to motor?"
"Wherever we are? Why we're in my apartment, aren't we?" Wesley faltered on the last couple of words.
"Last time I looked, watcher, we were holed up at Giles's place."
Wesley trembled a little as he rose from the ground. "How long?"
"How long what?" Faith countered.
"How long have I been here?"
"Dunno exactly. More than twenty-four, less than forty-eight."
"We have to leave."
Faith put a hand on him to wait. "Gotta take care of the mess," she explained as she pointed to the man on the ground. "And we gotta figure a way out of here."
"We walk out the door."
"You're a funny man, ya know that. Ain't that simple."
"Care to enlighten me?"
So he really was getting back to normal, she thought. Just so she could punch him or hug him. She didn't know which.
"Your freaky ass mind, not mine."
He scowled at her. "My freaky, oh dear. It seems that you are correct."
"First time for everything. Now how do we get out? I just said the spell thingy."
Wesley started to throw his arms up in disgust, but then changed his movement to just one arm. "You started some kind of spell and didn't know how to end it?"
"We, I, well, um. Yeah. I kinda did. It was to save your ass, you know. You could act like you're grateful."
"I am. It's just being trapped in my mind isn't the most pleasant experience in the world."
"You're tellin' me."
Wesley glared right back at her assessment. Screw him, she thought. And she thought that her mind was messed up.
The man on the floor started to moan as he regained consciousness. Turning him over, Faith recognized him. She thought he seemed familiar.
"You know, B's gonna kick your ass when she finds out about this."
"Then let's not let her find out, shall we?"
"Mark," Faith threw out before she was slammed back into Wesley.
They both went tumbling to the ground, entangled arms and legs flying. Faith was scared that the guy would figure out how to trap them in this cage and never let them out. Shoving against Wesley to get up, she heard the familiar clang of the door slamming home. The lock slid shut before she could reach the door. Banging on it with her foot, this time it wouldn't budge.
"You bastard," she screamed.
No one was going to lock her in a cage for long. This thing couldn't hold her forever. Angel knew exactly where she was too. It wouldn't be long before she could break out.
"You don't realize how apropos that word is."
Wesley's mind awoke with a resounding pop. No more dreams, no more nightmares, pain, suffering, dying. His mind had been freed. But he wasn't free. He lay on the cold ground of the cage, looking into the eyes of his jailer. But of course. He should have figured this out ages ago. These mind games had to cease. Throwing his hand out, he tried to utilize the magicks that had been coursing through his body before. Nothing happened.
"Ah, old chap. I'm afraid that won't work. You see, you're impotent in my little world."
Faith snickered at that comment. The gutter as always. Then he would just have to figure out how to outsmart the little weasel. And let Faith pummel him after he did. He knew there was a reason to have her around. His fist bloody well hurt like the dickens.
Climbing up off the floor, he made his way over to Faith, standing united against whoever this man was. He had a few guesses, but didn't want to tip his hand just yet.
"Far from impotent," he started, looking over at Faith as he said it.
Winking at her, he turned to move closer to the door of the cage. There had to be some way to break out. Then he remembered exactly what kind of construct Mark had deposited them in. His apartment. His mind, right down to the last detail. Would Mark figure out the failsafes that he had placed in the system?
Giving the best sneer he could, Wesley gripped the bars tightly, remembering exactly where the catch was to release the door. One didn't always need a key. He didn't want the bloody thing to be totally inaccessible in case of an emergency. Working his hand down to the lock box, he quickly punched in a key code and it clicked. So much for blasted keys.
"Look Ma, no keys," Faith chided the man right before she slammed the door right into his face, making him stagger back.
"My mind, my rules," Wesley pointed out as he dragged Mark up in his good hand. "You thought you could keep me here?"
"I did, didn't I? Until it was too late. Brought her here too. Seemed like it worked like a charm."
Wesley racked his brain, trying to figure out how Faith had entered his mind without Mark blocking her. He vaguely remembered something about a spell. Which meant it could be broken if done correctly.
"A spell?" he started with Faith.
"Yeah. Giles found this wicked ritual to bring you back. Said Willow had used it on Buffy when she went to la-la land. Brought her back. But Giles went poof, so Angel and I decided to take matters into our own hands."
In Faithspeak, he actually had understood most of what she was trying to say. Which was certainly frightening to say the least.
"Where might Angel be?"
"No go with the dead guy. Only someone with a heartbeat. We need to hurry on back, because some guy named Ethan Rayne opened a portal and sucked Giles, Willow and Spike through."
"Bloody buggering hell," he cursed.
Not a good sign when a powerful chaos mage shows up on the scene, Wesley thought. He hoped that his magical abilities were restored once they were free.
"Tell me exactly what you and Angel did."
"Well, Angel started the spell, then figured out that he couldn't complete it, since, hey, vampire and all."
Mark laughed from his position hanging from Wesley's uninjured arm.
"Faith, if you please," he asked.
Faith's arm popped out and took the man down quickly. "As you were saying?"
"So I finished it and ended up here."
"If I'm guessing correctly, Angel is still entrenched in the spell. He may be able to provide an anchor for us to get out. Where on earth is he?"
Faith shrugged, not knowing where Angel could have ended up. If it was the ritual he thought that Giles might have attempted, he had a fairly decent idea where Angel might be. But his magical abilities were virtually nil where he was.
"Faith, I need you to chant 'So it must end. So it will be. My will, my way, as it should be'. Can you remember that?"
Faith repeated it back to him a few times until she got it. He grabbed her hand and held on tight.
"So, do I need to be prepared or somethin'? Cuz I sure don't wanna end up smashed against the wall as we come flyin' out of your screwed up head."
"Lovely image you just gave me. And no. That shouldn't happen." He hoped.
Faith reached up and placed a small kiss on his cheek, making him feel a little warm. "For luck."
He felt like he was in that movie about the star travelers who battled evil. Now what was it called, the War of the Stars or some blasted strange name? Cultural references were sometimes lost on him. With a glint in his eye, he pulled Faith to him and planted a hard kiss on her lips. Her eyes went wide at his gesture.
"Get on with it, will you?" he drawled.
"Uh, yeah. Um, OK."
She was speechless. Now that was a first in her book. He'd have to figure out other ways to make her speechless. As a matter of fact, he would make it his life's work to make her speechless if this is the result he got each time.
"Come on, come on."
Faith scowled at his impatience. "Um, 'So it must end. So it will be. My will, my way, as it should be'."
Wesley put one finger up, then two more. She chanted it two more times, each time stronger. The room tilted until the two of them saw a light at the end of a tunnel.
"Finally. You know how long I've been standing here?" Angel burst out.
"Not as long as I've been trapped, I assure you," Wesley pointed out to him.
"Well, no. It's just I was worried. Faith was gone for a long time. Um, guys. Behind you," Angel shouted as he shoved the both of them out of the way.
A sword went sailing over their heads. Angel dove for Mark, who had obviously followed through with them. Taking him down for the count, Angel pummeled the guy for several seconds until he stopped to pull the man up by his collar.
"All right, Faith. One more time," Wesley informed the slayer.
"I feel like clicking my heels together," she said as they both got up from the ground. "So it must end. So it will be. My will, my way, as it should be."
Wesley lay on a small bed, Faith and Angel by his side. Buffy, Xander, Sam and Clarisse stood in the doorway, trying to see what had happened.
"Hey, Ma. We're home," Faith quipped.
Buffy gasped as she saw exactly who was dangling from Angel's outstretched arm.
"Mark?" Buffy started.
"Buffy, uh, we gotta tell you. Your choice in men totally sucks," Faith barked out.
Angel glared at her as Wesley scooted up on the bed, attempting to get up.
"Where you going?" Faith asked.
"We have a mission to complete," Wesley answered as he tried his unsteady legs.
"All work and no play, makes a pretty dull watcher, Wes. No, wait. Already are."
Faith was back in rare form, he thought. Just where he wanted her to be.
"He's responsible?" Buffy screeched from the doorway.
"Shall I?" Angel asked his former girlfriend.
"Might as well," she gave him permission.
Angel clocked Mark on the head, rendering him unconscious. "Anyone else?"
Both Clarisse and Sam nodded seriously no, while Xander just snickered.
"Time to kick Ethan Rayne's ass. Anyone care to join me?" Buffy wanted to know.
TBC
Next: Sorry, Cordelia will speak with Angel. I swear. Who wants to have a knock down with some blue meanies?
Author notes: Oh man, do you realize how hard that was to write? So I did a long chapter just for all of you. Been a while. You didn't think that Wes just checked out all on his own. I'll explain more about that in later chapters. I know some of you were a little confused. Let's just say, my brain doesn't always reveal clues as well as I thought that I did.
Thanks go out to Shawooshy (new reader!), I.B. Slackin', alex4ever (new one!), pari106, Doza, Imzadi, psychotic chaos, Faith-Catherine (another new minion), Darklight, Maineiac, and lots of others. Lots of good suggestions too. Keep 'em coming.
Answers to questions:
Shawooshy—Thanks for the read. Haven't mastered Spike yet. I've written him less snarly for a couple of reasons. One—big battle kind of messed him up. Two—Illyria checked out. Really bummed him out. Fred's not mean? Supersymmetry, anyone? Billy anyone? She can kick ass with the best of them. I hate it when people Mary Sue her. She's learned from the guys over the years too.
I.B. Slackin'—All of that dreamy stuff was Fred's fault. Meddlesome girl. The borrowing power stuff is someone else's fault. Explainage coming. No bad vibes from Cordy. Hey, she's the boss, right?
Alex4ever—no kill Wes zone on this one
Doza—sorry, I'm confused too. Wait, that's most of the time. Hopefully it will get clearer.
Imzadi—I started reading this going, did she get those reviews mixed up. But now I get it. Slow on the uptake. I think Mary Alice would be. I'm not so sure about the Mark relation thing yet. Lilah—hell? What do you think now?
Psychotic chaos—oh, geez, did I mess you up. Lindsey crush on Fred. Sorry, no Gunn this time.
Faith-Catherine—more Lindsey!
Kaliflower—yeah, my last fic was way too angsty. spoiler alert Hey, I killed Wes in Road Trip.
Darklight—no evil Illyria
Maineiac—if you're lost, then I'm in trouble. Clearer picture on the way. Thanks for picking that up.