Lindsey´s Angels 6
December 13, 2004
Hyperion,
7.18pm
With one arm wrapped around Wesley´s waist, Riley helped the exhausted man up the Hyperion´s main flight of stairs, Joyce trailing a few steps behind them. Pausing for a few moments at the top of the first flight of stairs, Wesley nodded for them to continue forward. Shown into his old room, the ex–watcher silently mouthed his thanks to Joyce for getting all the destroyed furniture and soiled linen cleared away. Deposited on a bed that replaced his own broken and battered one complete with clean sheets and blankets, the weary man sighed as he was once again home.
With a wave at the two hovering friends, he indicated for them to go as he rested before attempting to undress.
"Would you like a cup of tea, something to eat? One of your milkshakes maybe?"
"No thanths Joysh..but tiwrd...mihiit shweep."
"No thanks Joyce..bit tired...might sleep."
Resisting the urge to give a nervous giggle as she echoed Wesley´s words in a perfect pitch and accent, she did however give in to the next temptation and gave the tired man a quick peck on the cheek. Riley´s arm clutched, she steered them both out of the room, closing the door behind them so Wesley had some privacy.
Fingers shaking as he fumbled with his shirt buttons, Wesley debated with himself as to whether it was worth getting undressed. It had been a long day for them all, Wesley in particular. As he thought back to the day´s events, he was sure that he was going to sleep for the next week or so. The morning had been annoying, he had been subjected to a therapy session with Anne. There had been no escape for him as he had been forced to listen to the dark woman repeatedly tell Wesley that he still had a lot to offer the world. Something the still painfully thin man had denied each time until his lunch had been delivered and Anne had left. Never had he been so thankful for the tasteless muck the hospital called food.
Reluctantly, he had drunk the vitamin–rich milkshake and had forced himself to eat every last spoonful of a butterscotch pudding that was allegedly jam–packed with essential amino acids after being threatened with being tube fed if he didn´t. Only having just gotten rid of the bothersome tubes the day before, he had been choking down the last of his gelatinous pudding when Riley had poked his head around the door to his room. Wesley had been overjoyed to see the man, not having seen him since being admitted to the eating disorders ward at the hospital, attempting to apologise at once for his previous behaviour at the Hyperion. The ex–watcher had told the taller blond about being able to think clearer now that he was off everything except the medication for his tongue. The tortured sentences of regret had been waved off as Riley had informed the ex–Watcher of the mornings events.
Wesley had been grinning like a madman about Doyle being found until Riley had told him of Joyce´s new found abilities. Something that he hadn´t believed until Joyce had been called into the room. Both of them had cried as the woman had repeated everything that Wesley had said in the man´s own voice. It had been decided that Joyce had to be within a certain radius for her to display her abilities, not having done it since Wesley had been admitted to the hospital. The knowledge of what Joyce was capable of had given him a glimmer of hope that he wasn´t totally useless after all. After a deep discussion, complete with Joyce echoing Wesley´s every word, it had been decided that the ex–watcher would attempt to train the older woman in a series of simple magic skills, hopefully leading to bigger and better things. Admittedly, Joyce was nervous about getting the delicate hand and finger actions wrong even if she would be getting each word right.
As far as Wesley was concerned, the first thing was to find a way for her to block the ability unless it was completely necessary. Once the agreement had been reached, Joyce had left to go to the supermarket, leaving Riley to inform Wesley about Spike´s latest dismemberment. After Angel had told their mystery employer that Wesley would be staying in the hospital, a tiny gold and mauve package had appeared on the hotel´s front desk. Once opened, all had been horrified to see two elongated canine teeth nestled in the box, fresh blood and flesh still covering them.
With a shudder at the thought of Spike having his game face fangs ripped straight from his mouth, the weary ex–Watcher hurriedly lay on the bed as a dizzy spell threatened to tip him from his sitting position and onto the floor. It had taken all of his newly restored concentration to listen as Riley had told him of both ex–soldiers suspicions that Angel was using drugs, something that Wesley had started to laugh about until the taller blond had described the vampires frequent naps that had gotten to the point that they were almost every second day. What had stopped the strangled laughter had been Riley quietly telling him about seeing the track marks that decorated the pale flesh that morning.
It had been this knowledge that had convinced Riley and Graham that Angel wasn´t capable of making decisions regarding other people anymore, let alone himself. With that, Wesley had been informed that he was coming back to the hotel as soon as Angel boarded the plane for Baltimore, Graham giving the vampires room a complete overhaul to see where he was hiding the drugs. As Wesley had pointed out, Angel was living in a hotel with four floors and countless rooms, there was no guarantee that he was keeping them in his room if he was indeed on drugs. Nevertheless, he had agreed with the ex–soldier, saying that it couldn´t hurt to scratch the possibility off the list.
The ex–watcher hadn´t argued, only nodding that it was a good idea. His heart had clenched at the possibility of Angelus getting free again. Logically, he knew that it wasn´t possible after Giles and Willow had bound the vampire´s soul to the Griffin tattoo that decorated his shoulder, but when dealing with demons and magic, anything could be made possible. It had been a suprisingly simple task, as long as just a single speck of the tattoo ink remained upon Angel´s body, his soul was permanent.
His head clearing a little, Wesley was jerked out of his thoughts as there was a knock at his door. He smiled tightly as he heard his invite to come in get echoed by Joyce. As Riley and Joyce came in, he nodded a hello to Graham who gave him a little wave, his stern expression never changing. Without a word, all three came forward as one, just stopping in front of the bed.
"Whath thu mather?"
"Whats the matter?"
Joyce´s echo dying off in a spate of tears, Wesley stared at the needles, large tablets and two vials being held in Graham´s open hand. With a shaking hand, the ex–Watcher gathered up one of the vials, vision blurring as he tried to read the label, tears making their way down his face. He couldn´t believe that Angel had sunk so low, to reach a stage that the only escape for him was to stick a needle in his arm.
"I´m going to get one of the tablets analysed tomorrow but judging from the vials, its probably some animal thing...not sure what though."
"Makths thenth, thu animul dwugth. Angleth isth a vwampire und bwug un ath thath."
"Makes sense, the animal drugs. Angel is vampire and a big one at that."
Nodding at Graham´s words, Wesley leaned into Joyce´s arms as she sat on the bed beside him, body shuddering with the effort not to start howling in front of the other two men. He knew that the proverbial shit would hit the fan as soon as Angel stepped through the Hyperion´s doors. Wesley spoke everyone´s immediate thought, echoed by Joyce.
"Heth on dwugth und weth leth hum go unth geth Dooyl."
"He´s on drugs and we´ve let him go and get Doyle."
December 14, 2004
Elder Lapp´s farm, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
8.01 pm
"What the fuck do you mean he´s discharged himself?"
Pacing back and forth, the angry vampire kicked at the stray bits of straw that had fallen from the huge bales that occupied one half of the feed shed. His previous reluctance to be exposed to the chilly night was gone, only to be replaced with an anger that was doing it´s best to burn him from the inside. His whole euphoria of being re–united with Doyle was rapidly fading to an idle flicker.
"How can you possibly allow an obviously sick man to just walk right out....HOW?"
"NO! I won´t fucking well calm down..I..I just can´t understand it. What did he do? Throw on some clothes and give you all a wave goodbye as he walked through the doors?"
Head throbbing, Angel continued to pace, his long legs covering the width of the shed with ease. As the nurse on the other end of the phone continued to try and calm him down, the brunette felt his face ridges rise, the placating tone of the woman doing nothing to ease his fear of Wesley´s condition.
"Evaluation? He passed it? Wesley wasn´t even in your goddamed hospital long enough to warrant an evaluation..you stupid fuc...hello? HELLO?"
The brunette´s body trembled with the need to destroy something, his eyes yellowing as the emotion of pure anger flowed through him. Mobile phone creaking in his hand as he tightened his grip, Angel very slowly and deliberately put the small device on the stone floor next to him and with a sedate kick, sent it skidding across the floor before he gave in to the temptation to bite it in half. Counting down from ten, the vampire found that as he reached the number two, he really wasn´t in the mood to be calmed so quickly. As the distant bellows of the farm´s cows reached his ears, the brunette wondered if Elder Lapp would miss a cow or two, the idea of ripping one apart in sheer rage suddenly appearing very tempting.
Tripping over an uneven edge of a stone paving block, Angel felt his headache take a turn for the worse as his nerves frayed just a little more. As he steadied himself with a hand on a hay bale, the vampire gave the prickly bundle a solid punch with a clenched fist. Jaw tightening, he gave the defenceless stack another punch with his right fist..another with his left, which led to it being lashed at again with his right. Angel punched the nurses who let Wesley leave the hospital, he lashed out at the soldiers who had maimed and murdered his friends, delivered a punishing kick to his unnamed employer but most of all he vented his rage at those who had taken his best friend´s eyes.
Soon the brunette was punching at the bale with all his strength, ripping out handfuls of the light yellow straw. The cold floor was sprinkled with shredded feed as Angel continued to take out his anger on the huge stack. The vampire was shocked out of his concentration at a loud bellow that seemed to come from right beside him, his anger and headache starting to dissipate as he realised just how stupid he must look. Panting with un–needed breath, Angel turned to see a cow standing only a few paces behind him, staring at him curiously. For a good long few minutes, the cow and Angel contemplated each other, the breath of the large animal frosting in the chilly winter night´s air. At another mooing sound, the cow snuffled at the vampire before putting it´s head down to gather up the straw covering the shed floor.
With all his anger dying down to a warm billowing trapped behind his ribcage, Angel walked past the feeding cow to his phone as his face melted back into his human features. Picking it up, he dialled the Hyperion. Absently, the vampire rubbed his unoccupied hand along his muscled arms as the cold threatened to creep under his skin. Phone ringing, the brunette looked as his watch, astonished to see that he had been out in the feed shed for a good hour. Hoping that his absence wouldn´t worry his host´s too much, Angel waited for someone to pick the phone up on the other end.
"Graham, it´s me"
"Fine...he´s sleeping at the moment. He..he isn´t in the best condition. Eye´s...some...*prick* took his eyes. Took them out and sewed him up"
"No..no, that´s the worst but his demon side must have taken over at some stage as he´s sort of trapped between human and demon state. His skin is greeny blue but he doesn´t have his usual spikes...hmmm? No, not really. It´s more like smooth blue skin"
"Elder Lapp? Uhhh, that´s sort of a weird story that I still can´t wrap my head around and you how strange things can get...Yep. Look, I´ve just rung the fucking hospital and they´ve decided to inform me that Wesley has checked himself out...just shut up for the minute and listen!"
"Graham..shut it! I want you and Riley to find him..I don´t give a flying fuck about any damn phone call..I want him found and returned to the hospi...what?"
Stopping in midpace, the vampire found himself weak at the knees as the smaller soldier explained how Wesley had been released into Riley´s care after being evaluated as able to leave under supervision. Riley...Riley took Wesley from the hospital?
"Explain to me just what Riley did? NO..*All* of it!"
"Right...right..Really? He did that? Joyce cleaned the room for him...mmmm. And..what did *you* do while all this was happening? Really, sat at the desk just in case the phone rang? So..you didn´t think to give Joyce a hand with cleaning Wesley´s room...and I´m guessing you didn´t bake him a fucking welcome home cake either?"
"I´ll be home...no, no..don´t talk anymore Graham. I´ll be home with Doyle in a few days. We will *all* discuss this then"
Wesley was home from the hospital. Riley *took* him from the hospital. He was to blame for Wes leaving the hospital. As the rage exploded into full bloom again, Angel felt a dislike for Riley being dredged up from a place in which he thought he had buried it forever so long ago. That bastard, who the hell did he think he was? Meddling in something that didn´t involve him...and come to think of it, it wasn´t the first time it had happened either. Call disconnected, the vampire slid the phone into his pocket with a shaking hand.
With a cool smile, Angel realised that this was the second time the younger man had interfered with one of his ex–lovers. Indeed, the first one had been Buffy and now the man had his sights set on Wesley. Riley had obviously taken advantage of Angel being away for a few days, plenty of time for the ex–soldier to start planting ideas in the ill man´s head. Just like Buffy. She had been at a vulnerable stage of her life as well when Riley had made his move on her. Wesley was his and always would be.
"MINE!"
Suddenly, the vampire shivered as his rage turned ice–cold, something that only rarely happened, as his roar echoed around the feed shed. Cow startled into trotting away, Angel snapped his game face into place as he turned to follow the bovine, his stomach rumbling with hunger and anger.
Riley.
Something to be dealt with later.
December 16, 2004
Elder Lapp´s farm, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
1.32pm
It was only the slight elevation of Doyle´s heartbeat that alerted Angel that his friend was waking. He couldn´t bring himself to look upon the half demons ravaged features, the scar tissue decorating the Irishman´s face was just a stark reminder of how wrong things had gone at what was supposed to have been a time of friendship and remembrance. Not for the first time, the brunette vampire wondered just what to tell Doyle about what had happened in the Magic Box after the half demon had been taken, especially when Doyle would ask about his fiancee. Still facing the darkened window, Angel gave a little start as Doyle acknowledged his presence.
"Angel?"
"Yeah Doyle, it´s me....how you feeling..I mean..?"
"Not too good actually.....my..my eyes"
Wincing at the resigned tone in the soft voice, Angel turned towards the half demon laying in the narrow single bed. Unneeded breath taken, the vampire hesitantly took a few steps forward, his gaze resting firmly upon Doyle´s chest.
"I know"
Silence descended upon the small room, broken only by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor as Angel sat himself next to his friend. The vampire watched quietly as a blue green hand fiddled with one corner of a thick blanket, one of four covering the smaller man. The silence stretched as the two men took in the presence of each other. Finally, it got too heavy for the vampire.
"How did you know it was me?"
"Still got a nose, can smell you. Not as good as vamp or some other demons obviously but better than the normal humans"
"Oh"
Lapsing into silence once again, Doyle ached to ask the questions that were running rampant in his head but he knew that once he started, he wouldn´t be able to stop until he knew each and every detail of the last months, and he really wasn´t sure if he wanted to know. Angel, however saved him the decision.
"Cordelia...we..we haven´t found her yet....I´m sorry Doyle..I wish I could tell you better news but...."
"Cordy...Been thinking about her every day...love her so much it bloody hurts...hurts worse than me eyes. Is she dead...? Are you looking for a body or is she still alive...? Did Wes do that spell that he tried for Xander....? Shit, what happened with him? Willow?"
"Angel, where´s Cordy?"
His anger over Wes and Riley put aside for the moment, Angel quietly told his friend just what had happened in the last months. The vampire answered each question truthfully as they came, starting with the one about Cordelia and why they had been unable to find her so far and in fact any of them. Angel spared no details about Wesley and his own mutilation, including Riley and Graham´s fingers. He informed the half–demon about Kate Lockley being transferred to another precinct and into child pornography, thus severing one of his major informants and that almost all of his other demon contacts had disappeared or just wouldn´t talk to him.
"What about you doing the spell...you´ve got all ten fingers?"
"Doyle...If I could...if I had just a mere touch of spell casting ability, nothing would have held me back, but I just don´t have any talent...not one grain. Wesley is...*was* the magic user"
"Angel, just tell me everything from the start...please?"
With a sigh, Angel began.
"OK...you know what happened to the others..well, Spike and Xander were taken by the same soldiers. Riley and Graham reckon they were freelance mercenaries, apparently the numbering of us was some sort of thing that a few military teams are taught as a method of subduing people. Works *real* well huh? I got both kneecaps shattered, took ages to heal because I hadn´t been drinking human. We all got taken to Sunnydale General including Joyce, she went into shock while the rest of us went into immediate surgery – even me until I vamped out. The doctors and nurses took one look at me and then transferred me to a dark room by myself. You wouldn´t believe the explanation they gave for my gameface and injuries...Self inflicted!"
"What?"
"Yeah..that´s what *I* said as well. Anyway, they just dumped me on the hospital bed, made sure the curtains were closed and left. You know Sunnydale..ignore it and it´ll go away. Managed to call Kate and she came down from L.A., claimed some personal time. She managed to clear it all up without too many questions being asked, pretty much threw her weight around which is what got her transferred I think...she hasn´t said too much about the reasons behind the transfer. Uh, what next? Oh...Willy ended up being a bigger help than I would ever have thought possible. He was bullied at first by Kate but did a lot on his own as well. He got Giles´ lawyer to read the will in hospital once Riley and Graham were out of surgery and the drugs had worn off. Joyce was there as well but she was still in shock. Evan, the lawyer, told us that Giles had left the shop to Xander, Willow and Buffy with the proviso that Anya was to run the shop on their behalf unless it was sold while the house was to be sold and we all got equal portions of the proceeds."
"What did you do?"
"Well with Joyce still out of it and everyone else missing, Evan arranged for the shop to be sold as well. The money for everyone but Wes, Riley and myself is currently invested with David Nabbit´s company. Doing well too. Evan is looking after the others´ money for them until we can find them, yours as well. Joyce was told to move to L.A. along with Riley and Graham. They ended up all moving into the Hyperion with me"
"Poor woman...she ok now though?"
"Good days...bad days. You wouldn´t believe just how much work we had to do. The soldiers had only given us four days to get packed and back to L.A. and we did it as well. Riley and Graham discharged the day after surgery, took me with them. Wes was transferred to a micro surgery ward in L.A. Joyce discharged herself the next day and surprisingly, got into the swing of moving everything. She was the driving force behind it all, with out her, we wouldn´t have pulled it off."
At the break in Angel´s narration, Doyle found his head spinning at learning of what had happened to everyone after he had been taken.
"Jesus! How much stuff was moved?"
"A lot. Ultimately, we moved everything from Riley, Graham and Buffy´s house and Giles´ house. We left Willow and Tara´s apartment as it was, Joyce just packed all her clothes and toiletries for the move. With everything to be moved and with my knees, not to mention Riley and Graham´s fingers and Wes being in L.A., we ended up hiring professional movers. There was about a dozen people in each house. Anyway, we got everything back to the Hyperion and into a few of the spare rooms on the third floor. Most of the rooms are taken up with everybody´s stuff"
"Thank the PTB for the hotel, huh?"
"Mmmm. What else? Wes got released another two weeks later while Riley and Graham had to go back into hospital as both their fingers got rejected. They had discharged way too early and the fingers kept on getting banged around. They were both pretty pissed at that."
"I´ll bet!"
Angel told Doyle about Wesley´s character change and re–hospitalisation due to the cocktail of drugs he had been taking, only briefly acknowledging the flare of jealousy that exploded as he mentioned that Wes had been released into Riley´s care. Angel Investigation´s new employer was described as well as the vampire could, including the disgusting shows of power with the still missing Spike. The brunette awkwardly patted at the half–demon´s shoulder as great shuddering tremors wracked the blue body.
"God...Angel?"
"Yeah?"
"How did everything get so fucked up?"
"I wish I knew, but I do know that there are bigger players than just that Randall asshole. There has to be....He was..*is* a pimp...he has no use for anything that we are told to retrieve. Half the stuff...I don´t even know what it is. I´ve kept descriptions of it before handing it over but with Wesley being so unstable, I haven´t had a chance to ask him about it"
Before Doyle could make a comment, Angel exploded in frustration. The last few months of stress and worry tumbling from his lips.
"I mean...FUCK! We get told to do this..do that and we have to do it because if we don´t, Spike gets maimed and God only knows what happens to everyone else? Sunnydale is completely barred, we can´t step one foot inside the city limits. Why? I don´t know. Joyce gets told to sell her house and art gallery, our illustrious employer told her that she was to be the secretary.....she doesn´t even know the first thing about being one, but does that matter? No! Riley and Graham must go with me on each retreival..no excuses except when they went to hospital and I´ve just told you what happened to Spike when I went against the orders with Wes. Fangs..his bloody fingers..."
"H..how did Joyce get her stuff moved if she wasn´t allowed back?"
"Willy, of all people. He ended up getting everything organised, and even Kate got a phone call to say she was banned from going back. Joyce was in tears for days, she couldn´t bear the thought of anyone else going through Buffy´s childhood stuff. It´s all up on the third floor. Jesus....I haven´t even told you the spooky stuff yet!"
Taking a shaky breath, Doyle felt his stomach grumble with hunger but gestured for Angel to keep talking while he was still in the mood. After not having had a conversation with someone for so long, it was good to hear a friend´s voice at last, especially one that wasn´t touched with a German accent as well. His body still trembling with the effort of the dry crying, the half–demon took a few more deep breaths as his chest burned with the need to start howling.
"Sorry....I´m so sorry Doyle...I..I shouldn´t have go off like that, its not what you need at the moment."
"What I need Angel, is to know what has been happening..please, just keep going."
"Alright then. Drusilla, my second Childe..yes, the insane one, she appeared at the hotel one day. Joyce called us all back and in what can only be described as well...insane, the Oracles spoke through Dru and we got told that this was my war and if I ended up winning this, then I would get my reward. The whole Shanshu thing. Dru also rambled on about everyone who had been at the Magic Box that night...most of it is odd and pretty gibberish but with Dru, there was always some sense to be made when she had one of her future visions. We just can´t make sense of it yet, so none of us know what to concentrate on first. But apparently, everyone at the Magic Box has a part in this."
"Hang on Doyle, you haven´t heard the weirdest bit yet..no, trust me with this. Joyce has manifested a talent for speaking as Wesley. I mean, the whole accent, tone, speech pattern..it *is* Wes´ voice. She speaks as Wes when he says something. She hasn´t done it since Wes went to the hospital but now he is out, she should be doing it again. God only knows how this is affecting her...as far as I know, she even does it in her sleep if Wes is speaking. Graham sat with her a few nights, its only when Wes yells that she wakes up. He yells and so does she."
Never in his whole life had Doyle wanted a drink more. Actually, he could go for a whole bottle of whatever was on offer thought the dark haired man. What a bloody mess! All this time he had been sure that Cordelia was safe and sound with Angel, even with Willow and the twins. With another shudder of his weary shoulders, Doyle wished he could cry properly, frustrated that he couldn´t even vent his grief, his tear ducts had been damaged when his eyes had been stolen from him.
"I´m tired Angel. I want Cordelia and I want to go home"
"I know. We haven´t stopped trying to find her, both her and the others and I´ll be taking you home in a few days. You need to rest up for a little bit longer....Can I get you anything?"
"No....well, bit hungry actually. Surprised that Samuel or Rebecca haven´t asked if we want lunch yet. God...everything is so confusing. Even the bloody Amish farm isn´t Amish..you know what I mean?"
With a slight smile, Angel nodded at his friend, replying a second later when he realised that Doyle would never see him do anything again. Upon arriving at the farm, only two mornings ago, he had been astounded by what Samuel had told him. It was true, Samuel wasn´t strictly Amish. Actually, Samuel wasn´t even human. Both he and his wife were refugees from another dimension. Angel had sat in the cosy kitchen, stunned into silence at the farmers tale, he had asked how the Amish couple had known that Doyle was a demon.
The Lapps ran a refuge centre for refugees escaping from their home world, a half way house for demons who either stayed on earth or jumped into a further dimension. The ones who stayed were very few and those that did agreed to comply with the Amish ideals, living out their lives in relative peace and quiet. Why Amish was a question the Angel wanted to ask but hadn´t for fear of offending their gracious hosts. They had taken both his and Doyle´s demon status´ in their stride, stating that they had taken care of other species than their own. Even Angel´s blood had been served up without a raised eyebrow.
Angel just hoped that they didn´t find out about the cow, although he was sure that he had covered his tracks. Even if the carcass was to be found, it would more than likely be blamed on a pack of wild dogs.
"Yeah..I do..Doyle? Get some sleep, I´ll go and see if Rebecca can make something up..OK?"
With a nod, Doyle listened as the vampire left the small bedroom, the idea of sleep becoming tempting. He was exhausted and he wanted to be in much better shape than he was before making the trip back to L.A. He just wasn´t sure of what help he was going to be to the taller brunette. Doyle hadn´t had a real vision since his eyes had been taken and he sure as hell couldn´t help the vampire out in a fight anymore. The visions he had experienced while in solitary confinement had been strange, more dream like and wispy than the usual surround sound ones that he normally received. His mind drifting a little, the half–demon wondered how Angel had coped with everything without cracking. Pillow re–arranged to his liking, Doyle suddenly gripped his head and bellowed as a vision hit him full force.
