CSI: Hyperion

[prodigalwatcher]

Gunn still lay in that deceptive appearance of peacefulness. As i stood beside the table, I couldn't help but be reminded of when I'd stood beside Lilah's body, in the basement, and the grisly necessity I'd seen to

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[_fredless]

"Fred, we need your help. We need to find out for sure who killed Gunn."

"We already know the answer to that," I said softly, to Wesley's back. He was already walking away. It didn't hurt like I would have thought...after all he wasn't turning away from me.

Just the truth. Only the truth.

I sent an apologetic glance to Lorne, picked up Charles' ax where it sat just next to me, and stood to follow Wesley...if only to help him see. Maybe one day I would work up to all the apologies I had been considering only moments before.

"I know this isn't going to be easy on any of us. But we need to know."

I just stood there, unable to really look at either Wesley or Faith. Instead I just placed myself opposite of Wesley, twisting the handle of the ax in my hands as the words drifted over me. Sometimes into me. But nothing rested very well.

"Brusing and discoloration around the neck indicates that victim was either strangled or had neck broken by assailant. No evidence of cuts or puncture wounds. Not a vampire.""The placement of the bruises

[fivebyfiverogue]

"I know this isn't going to be easy on any of us, But we need to know."

I nodded, standin' back and lettin' the experts do their thing. Leanin' against the wall, I crossed my arms over my chest and just watched them. They didn't really need me up in the mix.

Details and research? Not my kinda deal.

I'll leave that to the book types. Wes and Fred definitely fit that bill.

"Brusing and discoloration around the neck indicates that victim was either strangled or had neck broken by assailant. No evidence of cuts or puncture wounds. Not a vampire."

"The placement of the bruises does indicate strangulation, And that Char....that the victim was facing their killer at the time of the attack."

"Broken capilaries confirm death by strangulation, Lack of defensive wounds on the hands, arms, and upper chest indicate that the attack was sudden, leaving the victim suprised and unable to fight back"I pushed off the wall, walkin' over to where they were. Keepin' my arms crossed, I studied Gunn's body. I was tryin' to make sense outta what they

[prodigalwatcher]

"The placement of the bruises does indicate strangulation. And that Char... that the victim was facing their killer at the time of the attack. Broken capilaries confirm death by strangulation."

The discomfiture was palpable. None of us wanted to be here, to be examining a friend's empty shell as if it were just another poor victim of one of the many evils we'd encountered. But there could still be things that Gunn could tell us, even now.

I concentrated on Fred's words, trying to see what she saw, deduce the same things from them. As I peered down at the bruises along Gunn's neck, an intch began in the back of my head, but of what I had no clue. The idea would simply have to make its way forward of its own volition-- instincts couldn't be forced.

"Lack of defensive wounds on the hands, arms, and upper chest indicate that the attack was sudden, leaving the victim suprised and unable to fight back."I arched an eyebrow and took a closer look. I'd missed that particular deduction, but Fred was correct. Making a mental note to

[_fredless]

"Now I don't know, or didn't know Gunn too good, but I know he was a damn good fighter. Can't see not defendin' himself or even tryin' to fight back."

I nodded, and if I didn't share a smile with Faith, at least I managed to share a look. Of understanding, or loss, at this point I didn't really care...at least it was shared at all. As little time Faith had spent with Charles, it made me just a touch less cold to think that she had seen it too. How hard he had fought -- tried.

I didn't care what Illyria said, about any or all of it. But what she did? What she had....that was something else. And there was so much else.

"It wasn't Illyria."

"Why won't you listen," the words drifted out in a painful hiss, and my eyes lifted once more from Charles to meet Wesley's. "I just explained how it couldn't be anyone else." Even I knew how lost my logic sounded. But even though I could hear myself, I couldn't seem to make it stop either. "It's all there...."

Something warm touched my hand, and I looked down.

Wesley.

"Illyria's physical

[fivebyfiverogue]

"Most of the evil that had the misfortune to cross Gunn's path is long dead. The Senior Partners and their Black Thorn representatives are the most likely suspects with the greatest motives, but that applies to Angel, Spike and myself, as well."

I tilted my head to the side, confused at what he was talkin’ about. I got the whole Senior Partners thing. Heard the big guy mention them before. But the Black Thorn? What the hell was that?

I was about to ask when Wes spoke up.

"It wasn't Illyria. Illyria's physical dimensions are the same as yours. I'm sorry, but--It wasn't Illyria "

"It doesn't fit."

Wes put Fred’s hand on Gunn’s neck, measurin’ up the sizes of the marks left there. Still ain’t too clear on that whole Illyria deal but, I figured they knew what they was doin’, so I just kept my mouth shut and watched.

Not really sure what else I coulda done at this point. There wasn’t nothin’ to kill or beat up, so me just stayin’ quiet was the best thing.

"It is supposed to fit. It only makes sense if it fits."I kinda felt like I

[prodigalwatcher]

"Why won't you listen? I just explained how it couldn't be anyone else. It's all there..."

It made perfect sense, and any impartial observer would have been able to see the truth of it long before Fred's sharp-edged words bit into me. But then, I wasn't anything approaching impartial when it came to Fred, or when it came to Illyria, for that matter. Far too close to both sides of the argment, which perhaps somehow left me in the middle.

I had known it was something of a melodramatic gesture, but the evidence and what it indicated had to be made as plain and irrefutable as possible.

"What are you doing?"

Fred's hand was warm and dry under my own, and I did wish for a more appropriate context in which to be holding it, but that was something that would have to wait-- for a very long time, for all I knew.

Stepping back from Fred, where her hand was still against Gunn's neck, I watched as she struggled with the facts that her rational mind was fighting against her instinct and emotions to accept.

"It doesn't fit. It is supposed

[_fredless]

Those three steps that I had finally be able to pull back from Charles actually made an impact. There had been the air, and then my hand finally stopped shaking..now only a lingering sort of numbness remained. By the time actual, coherent thoughts had reentered the equation, I felt slightly more on axis. Certainly not righted, because right was something I didn't really know anymore, just simply less off.

But then came the awareness. I felt their eyes, felt watched. And while that feeling - the knowledge that so much was focused on me - had always been one I disliked? Now I absolutely despised it.

I could look, but they couldn't. They must not. There was, or at least it felt like right now, so little left to look at anyways.

Somehow I had become the one who got left behind. And that...that wasn't how my story was supposed to read. I did that once. It wasn't supposed to happen again.

Statistics suggest that...

“So it wasn’t Illyria. Question is, who was it and how do we make with the findin’ out? ‘Cause when we do, let me just

[fivebyfiverogue]

"Something entered the Hyperion without our knowledge. In all the confusion at the time, I don't doubt the possibility of it for a moment. If anyone had seen the attacker, I think they'd have stepped forward by now. Perhaps there's some sort of spell that can give us information about who and what has come through our doors..."

"Or we can get it the old fashioned way." I said, smirkin' at Wes and poundin' my fist into my other hand. "Who's first in line?"

Wondered if he picked up on what I was hintin' at? That whole tryin' to get info out of that junkie when I busted outta jail to help and all. He was all with the pushin' me to get me back in the game. Won't admit it to him, but I was scared. I mean, if I had let myself just go back to what I was, I might never come back.

Couldn't let that happen again.

"Only if you let me help,"I raised my eyebrow, tiltin' my head as I looked over top of Gunn's body at Fred. Skinny as a fuckin' rail with a big brain. Ain't sure how much she was 'bout to help in the ass kickin' department. But

[prodigalwatcher]

"Or we can get it the old fashioned way. Who's first in line?"

The glint in Faith's eye took my distracted mind an extra heartbeat to recognize-- it had been the look she'd had the night we'd gone hunting Angelus. There had been something very easy and enticingly simple about moving along the chain of information, intimidating or beating what we needed as we went. In a way that I hadn't experienced in more than a year, there had been a clear, distinct feeling of purpose and accomplishment with each movement.

Of course, there had been detours-- there had been that moment when after I'd pushed and jabbed and tried to call the darkness out of Faith, I feared that I'd gone too far. It had turned out that I'd done just enough. We'd won the day, but not before I'd nearly cost Faith her life.

But the shotgun, the motorcycle, and the dive bars seemed to call.

"Only if you let me help."

Fred's voice snapped me out of the reverie, brought me back to the man I was now. Not that I was all that sure how far I'd gone since then. My

[_fredless]

"Or we can get it the old fashioned way. Who's first in line?"

Charles, my mind answered quickly. Charles had been the first in our line, before it had even been drawn. Only now it was inked onto walls, and dark enough to bleed through the layers of pain and paint...not to be covered up.

"Fred..I, uh..."

I shook my head, silently begging Faith to stop. I know that she wanted to help, but nothing that she said in this moment was going to change anything, least of all me. Tomorrow? Tomorrow...we could see.

The sheet fluttered over Charles, and I allowed my eyes to close for just a moment. Help wasn't even close to the right word, but the time taken did something.

"The mission has never changed. It is still what we do."

I opened my eyes again, keeping my gaze up and level and everything below me just out of my field of vision. It didn't do much but stop the shaking.

"And I'm glad of that," I whispered.

"We need to find out what, if anything, that Spike and Cordelia have learned from Harmony....Faith, I think the idea of finding