Lindsey´s Angels 4
***WARNING – DRUG USE***
December 9, 2004
Hyperion Hotel
10.13 am
A hand rubbed through his hair, Angel poured himself a whisky. Gulping the half filled glass, he hesitated for a split second before pouring himself another. Sipping slower than before, the vampire thunked the heavy tumbler onto his stained desk, letting the few drops of spilled amber liquid blend into the numerous coffee rings.
"God, I love you so much Wes. I´m so sorry that this had to happen."
Whispering more in the hopes of making himself feel better, the tall brunette thought back to that morning and the complete disaster it had been.
After his meeting with one of the leading therapists at the hospital, he had reluctantly allowed himself to be bullied into making another appointment to discuss the former Watcher´s state of mind. He had been partially reassured that he had been doing the right thing, that it was proving to Wesley that the vampire really did care even if his lover couldn´t see it just yet. All hell had struck a few days ago, the day of Riley´s birthday. Joyce had suddenly started speaking as Wesley. Accent, pitch and speech patterns, perfect in all.
Angel had been horrified to learn what was going through his lover´s mind, saddened by Wesley´s mental downfall. Needless to say, Joyce still wasn´t handling it too well. She could still speak in her own voice but whatever she was trying to say was overridden by what Wesley was saying. Most of the time Wesley was trying to speak one of the numerous languages he had been so proficient in without letting the trauma to his tongue get in the way. French, German, Chinese, Latin and many more. Unfortunately, it was usually no more than random mutterings spiced up with such foul language even the normally stoic Graham was shocked. No one really knew just where he had learnt such language and if the situation had been different, each one would have teased the man mercilessly.
Upon approaching Wes, backed up by Joyce and Graham, Angel had almost instantly wept when he had seen the horrific state of his former lover. The younger human had been lying in the middle of his room and for the first time in months, Angel had seen him naked. Gasps behind him had told the brunette that he wasn´t imagining the protruding ribs and thin spindly limbs that were covered by a light matting of hair. He had been told by the therapist to expect something like that but how could he have? When people starved themselves of their body fat, the body automatically tried to conserve its body heat by growing extra body hair, he *had* been told but it had still shocked him.
He had turned around without alerting the sleeping man to their presence, cutting off Joyce´s protests by quietly telling her that he was going to hospitalise Wesley as soon as possible. That had been this morning.
After a talk with the hospital therapist handling Wesley´s case, Angel and Anne had gone through the traumas the former Watcher had been through over the last few months and combined with what both Joyce and Graham told her of Wesley´s change of personality, Anne had agreed to take him in for observation. Wesley however, had given the ambulance officers a good run around the hotel, only allowing them to get him after he had collapsed from the effort. He had been strapped down on the trolley and slid into the ambulance, screaming obscenities to all and sundry – Joyce trying not to cry while clearly pronouncing the words that Wesley would forever twist. Anne had tried to reassure Angel by telling him that Wesley´s problem was probably stemming from stress and not a distorted body image. The brunette had given the therapist a tight smile, not even bothering to tell the petite woman that the idea wasn´t helping.
That had been merely ten minutes ago and Angel was already exhausted for the day. He had no idea of how to help an increasingly distressed Joyce, thankful that Graham was currently plying her with numerous cups of camomile tea in an attempt to calm her down. Riley was at the hospital on Angel´s behalf, dealing with the paperwork for Wesley´s admittance. With all the uproar over Joyce´s new–found abilities, Riley´s birthday had been pushed aside and all but forgotten by everyone but Riley himself. He had taken himself upstairs once looking in the magic books had proved to be fruitless and had proceeded to drink himself into a state of semi–consciousness. Angel had eventually helped Graham settle Riley into bed, both ignoring the drunken protests. The vampire had then wandered back to his own room while Graham had gone to sit with Joyce for a little.
Sighing, Angel knew that there was an attraction between the older woman and the normally stern soldier. He wasn´t blind, and even if he was, there was no way he could miss the tiny wafts of arousal that emerged when they were together. Joyce wasn´t unattractive for her age, no, she was actually still quite beautiful. Buffy had definitely gotten her looks from her mothers side. The older human woman was kind, patient, caring and loving. She was also a lot stronger than she looked, she had a strong will and a quiet determination. Angel admired her and he admitted that things would have been a lot harder on all of them if Joyce hadn´t been around. She was his friend and if starting something with Graham brought her a little pleasure and happiness, then Angel was all for it.
Graham wasn´t a bad choice either. The brunette had never really met him before raiding Eternal but he had come to like the soldier. He was quiet but when he spoke, it was always worth taking note of whatever was said. The ex–soldier was stubborn, Angel knew that if he ever had to go head–to–head with the shorter man, he really didn´t know who would win an argument. Graham was calm, never did anything out of the ordinary and was totally reliable. The only time Angel had seen him spooked was when Drusilla had run her hand down his arm, then again, Dru had spooked almost everyone she had ever met. All in all, Graham was Joyce´s rock.
With a slight smile to himself, Angel thought that whatever the reputation soldiers usually had for getting regular sex, it was obvious that Joyce was going to be the more experienced of the two. Rubbing at the beginning headache, Angel tried to will it away, knowing that it was a futile attempt. The only thing that would take away his headache, was a few of the tablets he kept hidden away and he didn´t have any. He had used the last of them after his meeting with Anne, the therapist from the hospital, two days ago and he hadn´t been able to go out and get any since.
He had however, been given something extra in his last foil wrapped pills. Angel had handed over the wad of $50 dollar bills to the vet, snatching the offered package with out even looking at it. It had just been shoved into his duster pocket, the vampire in a hurry to get back to the Hyperion so he could have a relaxing few hours, something that he was seeking more and more. Upon unwrapping the packet while locked in his bathroom, the brunette had been disgusted to find three syringes, sterile swabs and a vial of clear liquid as well as his usual ten horse tranquillisers.
In anger, the vampire had almost thrown out the syringes and flush the vial down the toilet but had stopped, reading the label of the vial first. Grade 3 Equine Sedative. He had let the lid of the toilet clatter down as he took in the words. It was just a liquid form of what he was already taking, nothing much, just something that was helping him go to sleep when he really needed it. The re–wrapped package was hidden in a box at the top of his closet.
With a groan, Angel rubbed harder at his right temple, bottom lip gnawed as the headache struck full force. He wanted some sleep and he didn´t have any tablets but he could get a few more in under half an hour if he ventured down into the sewer system and continued to the vet clinic. Something that he really didn´t want to do but the promise of being oblivious to all was becoming more tempting by the second.
In a snap decision, the vampire left his dark office and climbed the stairs to the first floor. A wave of pain flowed through him as he glanced down towards Wesley´s rooms. Door closed and locked behind him, Angel crossed over to the closet. Rummaging around for the small tin, he experienced a feeling of relief as he brought down the colourful box. Foil packet opened, the brunette wondered if it was even going to work.
Would the drug even circulate around his body without a heartbeat to pump the blood through his veins? The tablets had taken effect even without a working digestive system, so this should work as well. Head shaken, the vampire was momentarily dazed as the pain from his head started its trek down his body, his back knotting up in protest. He walked back to his bed, sitting down on the edge while placing the vial on the bedside table. Uncapping one of the syringes, Angel wondered how much to even take. It wasn´t as if it was going to kill him but he didn´t want to be out for too long, just long enough to relax and have a brief respite from the constant stress that surrounded him.
Carefully putting the sliver thin needle into the rubber stopper of the vial, he drew a full syringe full of clear liquid. Hesitating before removing the needle, Angel told himself that he was only going to do this the once. He was going to make sure that he didn´t run out of the tablets again. Needle removed, the vampire lay the full syringe down on the bedside table. Taking off his thick jumper and long sleeved t–shirt, Angel gave his temple an absent rub before leaning down to take off his shoes and socks. Once standing, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his black slacks, letting them slide to the floor.
For once he didn´t worry about his clothes getting dirty, just allowing the expensive clothes to decorate his bedroom floor. Fisted pumped a few times, Angel reached down to pick up his belt from the floor and wrapped it tight around his upper arm, just above the crook of his elbow. He was only going to do this the once...never again. Repeating the sentence to himself a few times, Angel choked down the feeling of guilt, not wanting to know about it just that minute.
Belt pulled tight, he opened and clenched his fist fast until he saw a vein rise. Angel really wasn´t sure how he was able to get a rising vein as he was officially dead, but he wasn´t about to question it right now. Once satisfied that he could see the blue stripe in the crook of his elbow clearly, he gathered up the syringe. Jaw clenched, the vampire firmly inserted the thin needle under his skin and into what he hoped was the vein, grimacing as he felt the metal glance against a nerve.
How on earth did he know if it was even in his vein? Taking a chance, he pressed the plunger down, not looking as the clear liquid flowed into this body. Almost instantly Angel felt a burning around where the needle was situated. Tearing out the needle, Angel paid no attention to the small drips of blood. Belt loosened, he felt his arm grow cold as the drug made it´s way up his limb, his fingers already cooler than he would have thought possible. Fingers tingling, he shook his hand, gasping as his body temperature dropped.
"Fuck...what the hell have I just done?"
Horrified by the sensation, the vampire stood and crossed the thick carpet towards the bathroom. Uncoordinated, Angel tried to turn on the bathroom light, growling as his hand refused to work properly. Sliding to his knees as the drug reached his mind, the brunette´s growl turned into an exclamation of pleasure as he felt his body relax, his limbs feeling like they were controlled by strings. He was lying awkwardly on the cold hard tiles of the small room but as far as Angel was concerned, he was floating on a cloud of feathers. His mind finally relaxing into a pool of warm light liquid.
It was nice.
Maybe he wouldn´t have the tablets next time?
No, this was a once off time.....sort of....mmmmmmm...niiiiice.
December 10, 2004
Wolfram and Hart
3.57pm
"Hello Joyce."
"The Italian deli, Paprika, on Henshaw street has something of value. We wish for it to be retrieved and returned to its rightful owners."
"Good. It´s a large white globe, the deli has it on display at one of the counters. Get it and have it dropped at the front counter of the New Seasons Hotel. It´s to be plainly wrapped, addressed to Mr. William Walters. Is this clear?"
"Good...One last thing, Joyce. Make sure everyone goes on this. We have not been happy with the last few performances, we do not wish to remind you of what is at stake."
"It is not our concern how you get him returned from the hospital, just ensure that it is done within the next three days. If not, then a reminder will be sent – Do not make this happen, Joyce. I´m sure Angel will be glad to have Wesley back under his watchful eye. I know that we will be."
"No...nothing dangerous, just a simple retrieval and if there is any resistance, I´m sure that it will be taken care of."
Thunking the phone onto the walnut hand–polished desk, Lindsey continued to stroke himself. Each time he phoned the Hyperion to give that damned vampire a set of instructions, he got as hard as hell and each time, he gave into temptation. Eyes closed, the lawyer firmed his grip around his hard cock. Stroking the hot length, he thumbed his pre–cum along the shaft, lubricating the flesh.
With a groan, he wondered how insane the new set of instructions would make the brunette vampire. Would Angel storm around the Hyperion threatening to mutilate or maim whoever was messing with his lovers health? Would the taller man just take it in his stride and drag Wesley from his hospital bed? Would this be the one to finally push the vampire over the edge?
It was a risk that made Lindsey stroke faster. He wanted to push Angel as hard as possible, but not to completely break him.
The panting man continued to fist his cock, occasionaly touching his lightly haired ball sac. Angel was too valuable to break entirely, too useful in getting items that Wolfram and Hart had problems retrieving. Who was going to argue with a snarling vampire, and one who was formerly the Scourge of Europe at that? Not to mention the two extremeley capable ex–soldiers backing him up. Sure, they were still missing their trigger fingers and they were yet to re–train in using their opposite hands but both men still excelled in hand–to–hand combat, something that had helped convince reluctant demons and other people to agree to Angel´s requests.
Almost at the edge of completion, Lindsey grunted as he thumbed a slick digit over his hot shaft. Once, twice and again, he came into his closed fist, marking his old grey sweat pants as the sticky fluid leaked between his fingers. After the second time he had given in, he had started changing his pants before calling the Hyperion and giving Joyce the instructions. Thank God he had a secure and private office, well, as much as Wolfram and Hart allowed that is. Tissues grabbed, the sated man gently cleaned off his spent cock. He wouldn´t be surprised if Holland was jerking off himself, Lindsey knew the older man had an extra interest in him and after a few well timed comments, the lawyer was sure that his boss was watching Lindsey´s office right that moment.
Track pants removed once he was thoroughly cleaned, Lindsey pulled on his charcoal slacks, fastening the button and doing up the thick leather belt. Shoes back on his feet, he bent down and quickly tied both shoelaces, grimacing slightly as he realised they were just a touch too tight. Laces loosened, he wriggled his toes in an attempt to warm them up. No matter how much he turned the heating up, it was always cold in his office. Shrugging it off, he reached for his thick suit jacket.
Buttons done up, he smoothed his hands down the front. He was once again a professional, not a man seeking a moment´s pleasure at the expense of another. A glance at the clock and he saw that it was time for his meeting with Randall.
"Dammit Angel!"
"NO ONE IS GOING TO MOVE WESLEY!"
Standing in complete Alpha stances, Riley and Angel glared at each other. Neither wanted to back down, show weakness. Angel was right, Wesley needed to stay in the hospital until he was better, and moving him now would more than likely ruin any progress that had been made, no matter how small it was. Unfortunately, Riley had a valid point as well, Spike would be missing another piece of anatomy if Wesley wasn´t moved in three days. They had a hard choice ahead of them. They either left Wesley in the hospital and Spike got further mutilated, or they dragged Wesley from whatever help he was currently receiving and the bleached blond was left alone for the time being.
"Angel, please. I know you love Wesley but surely, you can´t want Spike to suffer as well?"
"I don´t give a fuck Joyce. Given the choice between Wesley and Spike, Wesley wins hands down each time...no debate whatsoever!"
"You complete asshole! What gives you the right to condemn Spike to agony, and don´t give me that ´I´m his Sire´ bullshit, I don´t want to know about it."
"I *am* his Sire and I can do what ever I like to Spike. If I want to torture him, I can. I have absolute right over every single cell in his body. I created him, and I can sure as Hell dust him tomorrow if I want to. Let´s face it Joyce, given the choice between Wesley and Spike, who would you choose?"
"That´s not fair Angel, and you know it. It´s not fair that you should make that choice either. No–one should have to make the choice between a child and a lover."
Sitting heavily on the dark blue couch next to the angry woman, the weary vampire struggled not to scream at the choice he was being forced to make. Joyce was right, it wasn´t fair. With a glance at Riley still standing with hands on hips, the vampire noted that the glare had been replaced by an expression akin to sympathy. A gesture from Angel, and Riley was sitting in one of the over stuffed armchairs that the vampire usually favoured.
"Joyce? Riley? Graham? I´m choosing Wesley because even though Spike is going to be put through pain that I can´t even begin to imagine, he will get over it. Spike will always get over things. Things that I have done to him in the past, Drusilla, the chip. He *will* get over it, yes, it may take him a while but eventually, he will."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah Graham, I am. When we find him, and we will find them all, we will just have to give him the support he is going to need. Spike is strong, no matter how many knocks he has, he always comes back swinging. Trust me, I *know* about that first hand."
Listening to the dark haired vampire, Graham wondered just who he would choose if he was faced with the same choice.
"Angel, I´m not ragging on you but say we do end up finding Spike with bits missing from him, what then? What if this is the knock that keeps him down for the count? How is that going to affect Xander when we get him back as well....If?"
"Not ´if´ Graham, it´s *when*. OK, Spike is going to come back from this because if the vampire is old enough and strong enough, all damage is repaired by the body eventually – You know, like when Wes bit my finger."
"What, *everything*?"
"Yep, pretty much. Get a finger cut off, and even though it´s going to take a while, it will grow back eventually. I don´t want Spike to hurt anymore than he already has, but when it comes to the crunch, Wesley isn´t going to be so easily repaired."
Angel went quiet, watching the faces of his friends as they absorbed this new piece of information. It was a fact that had never been recorded by the Council, and with good reason. Most vampires that had re–generated limbs lost them in battles with other demons, and not Slayers, so the Watchers had never recorded that vampire trait into the diaries. With a turn of his head, he saw that Graham was getting ready to ask another question, hopefully one that Angel wouldn´t mind answering.
"He may get over it physically, but will he get over it mentally?"
Stomach dropping at the one possibility he had so far never considered, the brunette vampire wondered just how strong his Childe was mentally. With all that had been inflicted upon the smaller vampire in the last few years, he wondered if it was a real possibility that it might be the last straw for the bleached blond. The Spike he had known in the recent years had definitely mellowed since his turning but it was a result of things forced upon him, not by choice. The loss of his Sire, Drusilla leaving him, being chipped, curtailed from hunting and being denied the right to be the predator that he so naturally was. Even helping Buffy hadn´t been by choice, neither had been moving to L.A. and living under Angel´s watchful eye. Without a doubt, the resentment and anger from being forced into situations not of his choosing was piling up in the blond and now the physical mutilation.... Angel couldn´t help but think that it may just be what tipped the scales for his Childe, no matter how strong he had previously been.
Softly, Angel answered the question as honestly as he could.
"I don´t know."
