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"In Rotation"
Author: Skylar (supecrow@bellatlantic.net)
Disclaimer: Joss and company own everything
Summary: Xander's actions come with a price; rewrite of season 6's last
few eps.
AN: Eighth story in my Remedy series.
Spoilers: General spoilers for S4, plus the other stories of this
series- you'd really have to read them to understand this.
AN: < > indicates a person's thoughts
Rating: I'd say PG-13 to R.
Distribution: Want it- take it. Just let me know where its going.
Feedback: As always, greatly appreciated.
"She's in the back."
From his spot beside a bleeding Buffy, Angel finally pulls himself to
his feet as he sees Fred and Cordelia leading the paramedics into the
back yard.
"She was shot?" the taller of the two men asks.
"Yeah&in the chest."
"Accidental?" his partner questions. With his own sobs threatening to
escape, Angel forces himself to mumble back a response. "No, no, it was
a...he was trying to kill her."
Her eyes open, still fixed on the slightly overcast sky above, Buffy
blindly reaches out a hand as she feels the paramedics kneel on either
side of her and go to work. The wounded slayer can feel the first of her
mother's tears trickle onto her skin as she smoothes a hand over her
forehead. "You'll be okay, sweetie," Joyce sniffs. "Just hold on- you're
going to be fine." Upon hearing the gunshots ricocheting in her
backyard, the horror she found when she'd raced outside slammed into
her, bringing her to her knees alongside her daughter. It was all she
could do to fight down the sickness when she saw all the blood covering
her only child.
Still upstairs inside the Summer's home, Willow cradles Tara's lifeless
body in her lap. "Oh god, oh no&please, please, come on..." The deep,
pitiful rasping sobs tore from her throat, tears streaming down her face
as she desperately shakes Tara, her hands shakily fumbling for her face.
"Come on, Tara! Please, come on, baby..."
Without warning, the walls become illuminated in a dark blue swirl, the
color almost as black as Willow's tear-streaked eyes as she lifts her
head from her lover's form, screaming to the heavens above. "By Osiris,
I command you, bring her back!"
"Pulse is 100 and weak. Lung sounds are wet."
"What does that mean?" Joyce frantically shouts to the young man working
on her daughter.
"Is she going to..."
"Sir-" Angel finds himself unable to voice his deepest fear as he's held
back at arm's length by the second paramedic, "you need to stand back,
okay? If you want us to help her out, we need some space." For a brief
second, the ex-vampire finally takes notice of the blood smeared across
his hands as he holds his head, still in disbelief.
"Hear me! Keeper of darkness!"
The dark, looming clouds finally gather, creating an overhead vortex in
the semblance of a grimacing face. "Witch!" it's voice bellows, breaking
a path through the lightning flashing around it. "How dare you invoke
Osiris in this task!"
"Please&please, bring her back," the redhead begs, still trying to cling
to what shreds of hope she thought possible in undoing what had been
done. But the demon was ardant in his refusal. "You may not violate the
laws of natural passing."
"How?" Willow demands. "How is this natural?!"
"It is a human death, by human means."
"But I-"
"She is taken by natural order," the spirit explains with a growing
sense of resignation. "It is done!"
"No&there has to be a way."
"It is done!"
The scream that Willow releases is accompanied by a radiating column of
energy column, completely decimating the demon glowering at her from
above as it disappears in a final flash of lightning. Lost and
bewildered in the darkness creeping its way through her, the wiccan
abandons her lover's body, turning her attention elsewhere.
"Sir?" one of the paramedic's strained voices finally reaches Angel as
he looks over his shoulder to see what was going on. "We have to move
her." With Buffy's hand firmly clutching his own, the only sure sign he
had that she was going to be alright, he finds his voice tight in
desperate appeal as he speaks up. "I'm going with her."
"That's fine, sir. You and her mother can ride along with us, but we
have to get her to the hospital now."
Gathering their gear, they easliy lift Buffy's small frame onto a
gurney, beginning the passage around to the front of the house.
"Sunnydale Memorial, do you copy? We have a caucasian female, 21, GSW to
the chest."
"Come on, Buffy," Joyce whispers, following alongside.
"We're going to get you to the hospital. Just hold on, Buffy...please
love, just hold on," Angel pleads, stepping aside with Joyce as the
paramedics prepare to lift Buffy into the back of the ambulance. The
flashing red and blue lights alternately bounced off of the surrounding
houses, while the murmur of the rest of the friends' hushed voices
filled the open space.
Through her own blurred vision, Cordelia spots Willow emerging from the
house, her eyes immediately darting to the blood stains splattered
across her blouse. "Willow- god, are you okay?"
"How did this happen?" Her movements cease for a moment as she passes a
glance to where Joyce and Angel were getting into the back of the
ambulance with her best friend.
"Xan- Xander," she breathes out. "He had a gun."
A flash of anger briefly washes over Willow's features before her face
returns to its previous blank stare. "Xander..."
"Buffy and Angel were out back, and&"
"It went down too fast," Doyle explains, seeing the brunette leaning
against him suddenly at a loss for words for the first time since he'd
met her. He could feel her quivering all over, just as he was. He looks
over to where the doors to the ambulance were being closed and stands
despondently, watching it drive away, siren wailing like a lost soul.
"They couldn't stop him," Lindsay adds, his seemingly casual observance
unable to hide the fear in his own voice.
Willow had already heard enough and marches halfway over the sidewalk
before Graham takes it upon himself to approach her strange and
disturbing reaction. "Willow- hey!" he calls to her, stopping at the
edge of the walk. His yell falls on deaf ears as the redhead increases
her pace, leaving the young man to stare after her, confused and shaken.
"Willow!"
"Graham!" Gunn's voice finally reaches him. "We're heading to the
hospital. Are you coming with us or not?" Hesistant for only a moment,
he runs over to where the others were already nervously waiting in
Cordy's car and climbs in the back. With a grimace of pained compassion
on his face, he gazes at the stray bullet holes piercing the home's
siding, his eyes eventually drifting upward spotting the shattered
window of Joyce's bedroom as the car pulls away down Revello Drive.
"We have to call Giles," Cordy says bleakly, her throat so tight that
she could hardly get the words out. "Let him know what's happened."
"Don't worry about that," Doyle whispers. "I'll call him when we get
there, okay?" he says gently, trying to reassure her, but Cordelia knew
he was just making meaningless noises to keep her quiet. The pressure of
his warm hand on her shoulder was the only thing that kept her from
totally dissolving, as she gave way to an overwhelming sorrow. What had
things finally come to? One minute everything was okay, and the
next...nothing would ever be okay again.
Part 2
The hallways of Corielle Labs were dim and quiet, though far from
empty.
The walls outlining the upper-level offices were humming as Xander
stepped off of the elevator to the fourth floor. As he casually
strolls
down the corridor, he glances every so often to the row of offices
surrounding him on either side. He could only assume Lilah's new
research recruits were gearing up for whatever assignment she'd
handed
down to them from Wolfram & Hart- double shifts for everybody and
nobody
taking leave.
The thin sunlight of the late dawn did nothing to dissipate the
faint
chill that the young man feels as he walks warily to his
destination,
but he makes no complaint. Brushing it off as fleeting adrenaline
from
the morning's events, he pushes past the frosted glass doors, making
his
way into the familiar office.
"You're late," his partner's careless voice grabs his attention from
his
spot on the couch. At present moment, Riley was just kicking back
and
enjoying himself before he had to check in with Lilah for his latest
assignment. However, the latest bit of news he'd just received did
even
more to put a smile on his face. "What's the matter- couldn't figure
out
which way to point the gun?"
Xander watches incuriously as Finn reaches into a nearby bowl of
candy,
taking a small piece, tossing it jauntily into the air. For a moment
it
spins hypnotically, then disappeares into his mouth as he gulps it
down
with a manful swallow of hard liquor.
"Why don't you pour me a glass too," Xander finally smiles, staring
piercingly at him as he lounges attentively across the room from
him,
taking a seat behind the desk. "After all, we've got a reason to
celebrate."
"Sure&" Riley chuckles, handing over a glass.
"You know, it's funny&" Taking a sip, wincing slightly from the
taste,
Xander stretches out his legs atop the desk as he continues, "&we've
tried all the dark arts...witchcraft, demonology. You name it, we
tried
it against Angel. But you know what finally worked?"
"What's that?" he leans over, his face cool and impassive, playing
along
with what he knew to be his partner's false sense of security.
"Gun," Xander lets out a short laugh. "Guess Willow was right all
those
years- don't underestimate science. Good old-fashioned metal meets
propulsion. Too bad *you* could never master that theory, huh?" He
was
smirking by the time he'd finished- he never could resist getting a
dig
in whenever he could; the trouble was, he usually had to pay for it
later.
"Ain't that something?" Finn lazily mocks, looking too damned smug
himself Xander concludes as he tenses, having a feeling that pay-
back
time was coming now instead of later. "Man, this is gonna be good,"
his
partner softly chuckles to himself, his grin stretching even further.
"Oh- the best. And poor Buffy will be so upset over losing
Angel&this
town is ours."
"Correction&" Their shared laughter finally coming to a halt, Xander
turns questioningly to a now glaring Riley. "This town may be *ours*
as
in Lilah and me, but *you*&you're screwed. Metal meets propulsion,
yeah.
But you still better be a good shot! Too bad *you* could never
master
that, huh?"
"This isn't the evil laugh of victory, is it?" Xander finally
realizes.
"More like the evil laugh of 'you're a dead man', Harris."
"Okay, uh..." nervously grinning by now, he tries getting in a few
more
words over his partner's laughter, "&what, what's the joke, Ri?"
"It was just on the news. Girl was shot."
"Girl?"
"In her backyard. She's in the hospital-"
"Buffy?! She- oh god&" Tossed aside the chair as he leaps to his
feet in
one fluid motion, Xander dashes out of the office, Riley's howls of
laughter still chasing him as he races down the hall.
******
Willow stands inside the doorway of the Magic Box, staring intently
at
an unsuspecting Anya counting her money behind the counter. As she
hears
the popping sound of the lamps and light fixtures exploding around
her,
she looks up to see the redhead marching past them, headed straight
for
her. "Willow." She unconsciously reaches for her healing burns
alongside
her arm, the memories of the wiccan's abilities still fresh in her
mind.
"Where do you keep the black arts books?"
"Willow, look&I just saw the news," she explains, stepping from
behind
the counter, "something terrible has happened, I know. But you don't
have to do-"
"I need power," Willow demands, her eyes trailing up to the upper
loft
of bookshelves above.
"N- not with those books," she blusters, trying to keep her tone
strong
and convincing. "I can't let you. Willow-"
Without warning, Anya finds herself being sealed to the floor as
Willow
stretches out an arm, a jolt of purple energy radiating out,
effectively
freezing the ex-demon in place. Her face contorts into a sly grin as
she
advances towards the stairway, gesturing with her head. Her sought
after
books on the loft shelves begin their descent, flying down onto the
table, landing in a collective heap. The last book lands opened to a
middle page, immediately earning a stare of alarm from a helpless
Anya.
Willow lifts her hands and places them over the open pages, her
fingers
sinking into the book as if melding with it as the words start to
move
off of the pages, curling and scrolling along her skin, up under her
sleeves. Anya can only stare on in disbelief as the black print
begins
to sear up through her chest, moving up her shoulders.
The dark energy finally reaches her face, finding residence in
Willow's
eyes turning the usually peaceful orbs a menacing pitch black. The
last
of the words move to the top of her head, the blackness seeping
through
every strand of her hair. Having her fill, Willow raises her hands
from
the book, its pages completely blank. "That's better&"
******
"Hello?"
Oz had meant to get to the Summer's home earlier, he really did. But
practice had taken longer than usual, considering he'd spent the
first
hour or so convincing the rest of the Dingos that he was in fact
alive.
But all confusion aside, he'd caught up with all two of the songs
Devon
had started work on since he'd been 'gone', and they were all set
for
their gig tomorrow night at the Bronze. "Guys? Anyone up yet?"
A few steps down the hall confirmed that at least Joyce was awake,
as he
took notice of the plates of pancakes resting on the dining room
table.
Hungry himself, he snatches a strip of bacon from one of the half-
eaten
plates as he turns in search of the others.
He reaches the top of the stairs, turning in the direction of
Joyce's
room, where he knew his girlfriend had been staying on a fairly
regular
basis. "Hello?" He gently pushes the slightly ajar door completely
open,
taking a few steps into the room before stopping in shock when he
catches sight of the blood-drenched patch of carpet. Still staring
along
the floor, he spots something slightly potruding from beyond the
edge of
the bed.
For a second he stands frozen until the sight of Tara's lifeless
body
finally hammers him. His face twists in shock and horror as his legs
give way, sending him spiralling backwards with a resonating slam to
the
floor.
******
Running a hand through his hair, Riley finishes the last of his
drink,
idly giving thought to where his former partner had wound up running
off
to. If he was smart, Xander would've booked the first plane to
Mexico;
Buffy being shot meant Angel *wasn't* shot, which meant the former
vampire would be very much able of coming after Harris- not to
mention
the whole going-to-prison-for-attempted-murder thing Xander would
surely
have to face. But Riley knew his teamate too well, and could just
picture his lame ass storming through Sunnydale Memorial in search
of
his poor little slayer.
Halfway through his musings, he notices the phone ringing ontop of
the
desk. Taking his time in getting up from his comfortable spot, the
smile
still plastered across his face, he flips on the speakerphone before
sprawling back onto the leather couch. "Finn here."
"Oh&" Lilah's voice takes on a life of its own, Riley practically
feeling her surprised smile from across the line. "&you're still
alive?"
Riley tenses for a moment, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Come
again?"
"At the very least I thought you would've been out of the country by
now."
"Whoa, whoa- wait a minute. What the hell are you talking about,
Lilah?
I'm not the one who shot the slayer."
"According to my sources, the slayer's the least of your problems,"
Lilah warns, all the while enjoying the bit of information she'd
just
received from one of her firm's latest clients in Sunnydale. "If I
were
you, I'd be worried about the witch."
"Witch? Which witch?"
"Rosenburg," Lilah scoffs with a dark, mad joy at this new evidence
of
Riley's complete ignorance surrounding the whole situation.
"Willow? What's she have to do with anything?"
"Oh&you must not have heard&"
"Heard what?"
"She's gonna blow that town apart&" she chuckles, languorously
relaxing
back in her own chair at Wolfram & Hart's offices in LA, "&starting
with
you and Harris."
"Me?" Riley panics, now beginning to pace wildly about the
office. "Wh-
what did I do to her? Xander's the one who shot Buffy!"
"And Tara- he shot her too&," she casually informs him, "&but I
digress.
You've got your own stake in everything that's happened, Finn.
You've
got debts&Willow's looking to collect. In fact, I bet she can sense
your
essence as we speak," she whispers with quiet curiosity. "It's only
a
matter of time before she finds you."
"But&I&" In utter fear, Riley stares at the phone, a gasp lodged in
his
throat. "I've gotta get out of here."
"Well that would be my suggestion. But, uh&don't bother coming back
to
LA&" She callously lets out a pitying chuckle, though it fell on an
empty room as Riley stumbled his way down the hall. "¬ that you'd
even make it halfway here..."
Part 3
"&standing by."
His face pressed against the glass window, the hard surface on the verge
of shattering under the intensity of his forehead, Angel knew a moment
of fear that cut like a knife of ice through his stomach. As he moves
slightly to the side, he can see the lights and the figures moving
around inside the emergency room that should have never been graced by
his beloved's presence.
"We've got to stop that bleeding."
"Where?"
"Over by the left ventricle."
"BP is down to 80/palp."
The statements of procedure were slightly jarred by the steady beaping
of machines from within. From the moment he'd arrived with her at
Sunnydale Memorial, he'd stood as near as those damn doctors would allow
him to their area of work- the wreck of what had once been a vibrant,
lovely, young bride-to-be. He'd watched the doctors come, marshalling
all the forces of twentieth-century medicine before them, shaking their
heads wearily, defeated by the havoc wreaked by the most primitive of
weapons- the human hand.
"Angel&?"
Maintaining his focus ahead, Angel lifts his head at the sound of
Joyce's own trembling voice as she approaches him from behind. "Anything
yet?"
"No&they're uh&th- they're still trying to stop all the&bleeding&"
Seeing him still in a horrorified state, she leads him over to a seat
near the others, settling down alongside him. After a few eternal
moments pass, the mother grabs hold of his hand, pulling him to his feet
when she sees the doctor emerge from the emergency room doors.
"Ms. Summers?"
"Yes- my daughter&is she alright? Wh- what's going on?"
"I'm afraid Buffy's lost a tremendous amount of blood. We're still
trying to stabilize her condition. From what we can tell, the bullet
seems to be lodged between-"
"What do you mean *seems to be*?" Angel squints at him in disgust. "Y-
you're not sure? Just what are you doing to save her?!"
"And you are&?"
"Someone obviously more concerned about Buffy than you!"
"Angel, please&" Joyce places a hand across his chest, trying to calm as
well as restrain him.
"So you're Angel," the doctor manages a faint smile. Seeing the young
man nod in a bit of confusion, he explains. "The nurses just thought
Miss Summers was very religious&so far the only verbal response we've
been able to get from her is 'Angel'&"
The thought of his name on her lips stilled the very breath in his lungs
as Angel inched closer to the window. He could feel her pain, with every
painful breath she took, with every labored beat of her heart. But he
could only look on as they hovered uselessly, all of them, doctors,
nurses, and himself- most useless of all. The pain&the suffering&the
mute appeal in every line of her body, crying out for something,
anything, just to make it stop hurting.
"We're going to do everything we can," the doctor promises, offering
Joyce a consoling pat on the shoulder before brushing past Angel to
return to his patient.
"They haven't taken the bullet out yet?" Giles leans over to them when
they return to their seats, his glasses quite visibly shaking in his
right hand. How did he let this sneak past him? Slink along right in
front of him? He'd known Xander&he'd loved Xander as he would a son. And
to have this- a young girl he'd watched grow with pride, doted on as if
she were his own, fall victim to a young man who'd been reduced to
nothing more than a puppet under orders- it left his very being wrecked
with disillusion at the state of man.
Straightening up, he looks pensively over to the young man he'd perhaps
come to respect the most. The former vampire had begun idly turning what
the watcher knew to be an Irish wedding band identical to Buffy's own on
his finger, the action seeming to capture all of Angel's attention, as
if to distract him from the chaos unfurling around him.
"Here ya go, Delia. Two creams, right?"
"Huh?" the brunette's face remains impassive as she glances up at the
cup of coffee Doyle was offering her. "Oh&yeah. Thanks, Doyle."
"Any news?"
"Nothing new&" Graham sighs in return.
"She's still in there," Fred adds, unconsciously gripping Gunn's arm a
little tighter as she feels him tense.
"Man, what kind of doctors do they have running this place? Why haven't
they been able to do anything yet?"
"She's fine, okay?" Lindsay announces, as if his own unsure proclamation
had the power to rectify the situation. "She's gonna be fine. They're
probably finishing up with her right now."
******
"&I'm afraid Buffy's lost a tremendous amount of blood&"
He knew that to even think of coming here now would be a one-way ticket
to the morgue if he was seen, but after hearing the desperation in the
doctor's voice, Xander couldn't bring himself to leave the hospital.
He'd been waiting tensely, straining to hear any news on her condition,
drumming his fingers impatiently along the wall. He wasn't really sure
what good this was going to do, but he had to find out.
"&we're still trying to stabilize her condition&"
But what good was any of it? What could he hope to change? God...he had
failed the only person he'd been trying to protect all along. Why had he
even bothered to try when nothing he'd done so far had changed matters
for the better? Angel was still alive, and Buffy was&
"&the bullet seems to be lodged&"
So why was he still compelled to strike out at Angel? It was almost as
if this terrible compulsion for vengeance had taken over his mind,
leaving no room for anything else, except this quiet time praying for
Buffy's recovery. <None of this makes any sense&why did she push Angel
out of the way? Why did she have to get in front of him?> "God, Buff&"
he sighs quietly, his voice tight with emotion, as he turns his face
away from the emergency room and leans wearily against the far-off pillar.
<What if she dies? And I was the one who&> Shutting out the horror
accompanying the thought, his mind raw with suffering, he bleakly
recites what little bit of prayer he knew aloud, his voice rough with
regret.
Preparing himself for what he knew he'd have to face, his dark eyes
bright with unshed tears, his whole body trembles in spite of the tight
grip his crossed arms maintain as he begins his slow pace down the hall.
*****
As she lowers the styrofoam cup from her lips, Cordelia's weary eyes
quickly snap into sharp focus at the sight of the hulking form slowly
coming out of the shadows down the corridor. "Doyle&" she gives him a
light shove across the back, her eyes fixed on the figure closing in on
them, "&go hold onto Angel&"
"Umm&I don't really wanna bother him and Joyce. I think they're both
finally calming down a bit."
"Go hold onto Angel," she orders more forcefully, finally drawing his
attention to the hall. Doyle's expression freezes as a wave of dread
washes over him at the sight. Quickly getting up from his seat, he pulls
Graham along with him over to his boss. "Angel, man&"
"Doyle?" he stands to his feet, another layer of worry building within
upon hearing his friend's panicked tone. "Wh- what's wrong?" His answer
comes instantly as his gaze stretches over the half-demon's shoulder,
not entirely surprised by what he saw. "Xander&"
Part 4
It took Doyle and Graham all of two seconds to get a firm hold on
Angel....
"You bastard!! You did this to her!!"
....and all of one millisecond for Angel to break away.
Being too quick for the others to maintain their grasp around him,
Angel lunges for Xander in a rush of sudden ferocity, his hands
immediately seeking his neck. The next thing he knew, Xander was being
yanked up off of his feet to meet Angel's furious gaze at eye level.
With the grip of two solid hands around his neck showing no signs of
loosening, he makes a desperate gasp for air. "Ang....Angel....I...."
Xander never got to finish his sentence. Angel breaks his
two-handed hold just long enough to land a fierce punch to his jaw,
pausing briefly to stare at him with blazing eyes. With lightning
speed, he drives him into the nearest wall, his fingers digging into his
throat even more, draining the breath from him before lifting him
further up against the unyielding mass. Xander's frame was trembling,
helplessly writhing in Angel's grip as it started to tighten, black
lines beginning to spew across his vision.
"What is going on here?!" one of the nurses behind the front desk calls
over, while another reaches over for the phone to call security.
"Please- don't!" Cordelia yells to them.
"We're taking care of this," Fred adds, though completely unconvinced by
her own statement.
"Angel, come on!" Doyle's arms wrap around his waist from the left,
Graham taking a similar position on the right, with Gunn taking up the
rear.
"Get off of me!!" Angel yells, trying to make his tone more commanding
than pleading. From alongside the hall he can vaguely hear Joyce and
Giles calling out to him, their voices hoarse and breathless as they
begged him to stop.
"He's not worth it, man!" Gunn mumbles against Angel's back, planting
his feet as squarely as he could on the tiled floor, trying to stay on
his feet as he gave his boss another fierce jerk.
"The hell he's not!!" he snarls in return, briefly glancing over his
shoulder to stare back at Gunn with an expression of such savagery that
the young streetfighter slightly recoiled in stark terror.
"Gunn- come on!" Doyle looks over to him, already having a hard enough
time keeping his own grip. Shaking off his momentary hesitations, Gunn
circles Angel from behind once again, his added strength taking effect
as the three finally pry him off, leaving Xander to slide down to the
floor in a dazed heap.
Their collective effort sent the three of them spiraling to the
floor as well, Angel stumbling backwards on top of them. Wasting no
time, not even bothering to bring himself back onto his feet, he
scrambles over to where Xander still lay. With one hand again reaching
for his neck, Angel climbs ontop of his prone form, raising his free arm
in the air, landing a fist against his face in a series of sharp blows.
"Ang- argh!!....I- umph!!" Xander manages to get out a few more faint
screeches as he feels his consciousness start to drift away with each
stinging blow.
Clamoring to their feet, Gunn and Graham try stopping things again
but their movements come to a halt as they hear Doyle collapse back down
to the floor, his mind wracked in the middle of a painful vision.
"Now what's going on?" one of the nurses checks, leaning over the
counter to take a look at the slightly shaking young man. "Is he alright?"
"Slight seizure. Nothing to worry about. I would get a room ready for
*him* though," Cordelia throws a glance back to where Xander's bloodied
face was in the midst of being struck by another one of Angel's
punches. Seeing the baffled look across all their faces, the brunette
races past the nurses over to Doyle's side to help him through his
latest vision.
"It's Willow....she's....not well...."
"Doyle, what do you mean?" Cordy brushes a hand over his back, trying to
get him to focus.
"She's in pain....god, I can feel it....I feel....."
"What, Doyle- what do you feel?"
"....death....somebody's stone cold...."
Now joined by a still awe-struck Lindsay, Graham and Gunn finally
reach Angel, slowing in their attempts as they hear Xander fight for
air, blustering some sort of apology through his growing fear. "I'm
sor- arrgh!!....I'm sorry-"
With that- the sheer audacity that this fool had to even mutter so
much as a hint of an apology- Angel slams Xander's head against the
cold, hard floor a second time.
"Sorry?!"
And a third....
"You're sorry?!"
And a fourth....
"You don't get to be sorry!! You haven't even begun to be sorry!!"
Eventually he lost count.
"Come on, Angel- I'm losing count!" Lindsay begs. With Gunn and Graham
holding him around the waist, the young lawyer was sure that, combined
with his pull on Angel's legs, they'd be able to get him to release his
hold. But for all their efforts, they were just barely able to lift him
a few inches off of Xander. Finding himself being supported in midair,
parallel to the floor below him, Angel clings to Xander's belt, in
effect dragging him along as he himself was being dragged by his friends.
"That's it!" the head nurse cries, her fingers already dialing numbers.
"I'm getting security, now!"
"Cool it, would ya Nurse Ratchet?!" Graham snaps back. "We've got this!"
Mustering all of their strength, the three give him a sharp jerk,
at last lifting him completely off of a more than grateful Xander.
Gathering what little was left of his senses, Xander scrambles backwards
on the palms of his hands, finally pushing himself to his feet, only to
stumble back down to the floor in his flustered and terrified state of
mind. It was only seeing that the others finally had a forceful
restrain on Angel that allowed him to return to his feet once more.
As he takes a few deep gulps of much-needed air, he looks over to
see Angel raging against his friends' hold on him, struggling
desperately to free himself once again. "You're a deadman, Harris!!
You hear me?!"
Somehow he was able to see clearly enough through the blood
flooding his vision to stumble his way back down the hall, Angel's
shouts bouncing inside the corridor. "You're dead, Xander!! You're
dead!!" Though still struggling, Angel quickly turns his attention to
the half-demon gazing at him with a wide-eyed expression, still trying
to recover from his own torment. "What are you standing there for?!
Grab him! Don't let him get out of here!!" With Giles finally stepping
forward into the action, the seer and watcher take off down the hall in
a rush to catch the young man who, by all too true accounts, was in fact
charged with attempted murder.
Xander abandoned all pretense of bravery and quickened in his pace,
finding what he hoped to be a good enough cover behind a parked Saturn
once he reached the safety of outside. He desperately tried to cover
his ears, to block out Doyle and Giles' yells, to block out the
horrible, helpless rage and pain in Angel's own haunting cries. But try
as he might, he couldn't.
Finally sure that Doyle and Giles were far enough away in their
search, he darts out from his cover, running as quickly as he could to
the one place he had left to go. Even the trees looked menacing as he
raced past them, intimidated by every sound that came. Frequently
glancing back, Xander was growing tired but he knew that if he slowed
down, someone would catch up with him- the police, the others, or god
forbid, Angel. He ran as fast as he could through the park until he
finally reached the road junction, breathing a raspy sigh of relief as
he reads the huge sign above his destination- The Magic Box.
******
"We've got more bleeding."
"BP is...."
The painful voices of uncertainty haunted the six friends who
remained in the hall.
"Are you all done with your stage show for the evening?" the head nurse
checks with the friends as she stands before them. Having already
spoken with Giles and Joyce about the circumstances surrounding the
evening's unpleasant events, she really couldn't offer much more of a
harsh reprimation to any of them. With a nod from the poor young girl's
mother, she casts a slightly timid glance to the young man who'd only
minutes ago so boldly brought about the uproar in the emergency ward.
"So you two are engaged, huh?" the new intern Amy smiles up at him,
plunging the sedative's needle into his skin as gently as possible.
"Yeah...." Angel replies bleakly, his voice tired, and rough with regret.
"Lucky girl," she smiles softly, almost yearningly.
"Amy, stop flirting with your patient," the elder nurse gently teases
her, gesturing for the young girl to return to her paperwork at the
front desk before taking a seat beside Angel. Her face softens as she
looks over his grief-stricken features; she almost couldn't bear to look
at such a beautiful face being etched with such terrible pain. His
intensely set jaw gave his frown a pugnacious look, but as he lifts his
head, turning to face her, a faint smile whose sweetness belied the
truculence of that jaw, instantly warms her heart. "I- I'm sorry about
my little....one-man wrecking crew back there-"
"It's alright-" she lifts a hand to his apology, mentally noting the
pathetic desperation that lurked under his soft voice. "We're all just
glad you're okay. That sedative we gave you should help you to relax."
"There aren't enough drugs in the world," he sighs, running a slightly
trembling hand through his hair, his eyes darting to where Buffy was
still being treated. "Not while she's in there...." There was
something about the bitterness and disappointment in his
voice that cut into her, prompting her to offer any reassurance she
could give, but she never got the chance.
The thin glare spilling out from the emergency room quickly
dissolves as the surrounding lights and machines begin flickering and
whirring in a mad clatter. "Now what's going on?!" the nurse jumps to
her feet at the disturbance, rushing for the emergency room, Angel right
behind her. "It's like the evening that wouldn't die around here tonight!"
"Angel-" Joyce makes a frantic grab for his arm as he hurries past her.
"Wait out here," he begs. "Please, Joyce...."
Once he turns the corner, a cold shudder overcomes him, bringing
him to a stop at the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. From
out the corner of his eye he spots Buffy's second visitor of the night.
"Willow? What are y-" he tries reaching her, somewhat taken aback by
her appearance, but upon seeing her resolute face, he can only follow
her into the secluded room.
"Leave," the wiccan commands of the attending staff. More chaos
accompanied her order as another surge of energy bolts through the
electrical system, the lights and machines erratically flashing.
"Willow," Angel tries again, still taking in her new and disturbing
persona. Ignoring him, her pitch black eyes locked on the doctor and
his nurses, she gives her final order. "Now."
"Will, what are you doing?" an admittedly frightened Angel turns to her,
maneuvering around the fleeing medical staff to join her by Buffy's
bedside. "She's going to die!"
"No she isn't," she calmly informs him. The angry electronic whine of
the heart monitor continues steadily as Willow focuses on her best
friend's wound, the piercing sounds finally coming to a stop as the
bullet suddenly rises from Buffy's chest, hovering for a moment in
midair. "It's so small," she muses aloud, reaching for the lethal chunk
of metal. To Angel's surprise, no signs of pain flash across her face
as it disappears into the flesh of her hand.
As her eyes slowly lift open, Buffy's world begins to swim back
into focus. Cautiously trying to sit up, she's met halfway by Angel's
arms, clutching her to him. "Oh my god....are you okay?"
"Angel," she wimpers against his chest, confused beyond words. "How did
I get here?" Feeling his response come in tightening his hold, planting
a firm kiss against her temple, she looks over his shoulder to where
Willow was impassively smiling at her. "Willow?"
"Buffy....hey...."
"What's wrong?" the slayer's voice begins to build in panic upon seeing
her dark transformation.
"I'll explain. But we've gotta go."
Sharing a baffled look, the lovers stand side by side, allowing
Willow to wordlessly begin leading them towards the swinging doors.
"Why?" Buffy finally asks nervously, not fully sure of what was going
on, but knowing that whatever it was was about to bring on more
heartache. Staring straight ahead down the hall she knew Xander had
just made his pointless escape down, Willow's response augments from the
unrelenting feeling of empitness that had consumed her with Tara's murder.
"It's time to get Xander."
TBC....
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