Endings and Beginnings? There are no such things.

[_the_ram_]

Welcome to Hell. Please notice the absence of any emergency exits. This is not an oversight on our part, they simply do not exist. If you come here, you're here to stay. The sooner you accept that fact, the sooner we can get down to business and things will be more pleasant all round.

Comments

[lindsey_lives]

No, I wasn't surprised to be here. I was still a little shocked about how I ended up with a couple of bullets in my chest, but there were more important matters to deal with right now.

"That's right, I'm only human and I tend to make a lot of stupid mistakes." I wasn't sure why I was in this place right now. Shouldn't I be in another of their special hells being punished for what I'd done? Those days I'd spent with the Wrath certainly hadn't been enough to make up for turning my back on the firm.

Started to say something else when Wes finally 'woke' back up. Giving her a tiny smile, I walked over to where he was sitting, extending my hand and helping him to his feet. He swayed a little and I grabbed his arm to help hold him up.

"You remember when Angel signed all your souls away? Welcome to your new home. Glanced down at his wound. "Damn, that looks nasty. Bet it hurts like a son of a bitch. Probably more than being shot by a friend." I knew Ram would be able to hear whatever I said, but I leaned over and whispered into Wes' ear anyway. "That's Ram. You know, Wolf, Ram and Hart?"

He was bleeding pretty badly. Not like he could die again, but I'd rather not have something be able to reach in and pull Wes' guts out. "Pardon me Ram, but are there any bandages or anything I can use to fix him up?" My wounds weren't that bad compared to his. I knew I was taking a risk asking her for help, but he did need some assistance.

[_the_ram_]

I consider the request. I do need these two to be a state to listen to what I'm telling them, and so far these wounds are proving a distraction.

"You're in Hell, Mr Wyndam-Pryce," I say frankly, clue-ing him in on the situation. At the same time focusing just a little on that wound. Just enough to stop the bloodflow, knitting the flesh together in a rudimentary scar. Not pretty, but functional. "Well, half-way there, anyway."

I haven't moved from where I stand, merely turned my head a little to follow MacDonald's path to Pryce's side. They do make a sorry and pathetic sight. Both distinctly rumpled and rather battered. A shower, shave, haircut and a new suit would not go amiss in either case.

"And Mr MacDonald is quite right," I conceed. "He signed on that dotted line himself, and Angel signed yours away on your behalf. Like it or lump it, that's how it stands and no amount of whining can change it."

I pause to see if they're still with me. So far, so good. Both still conscious, eyes relatively bright, no tell-tale drooling or inability to stand upright. Onwards then.

"Gentlemen," I say brightly, giving a cheery smile, "you have now entered the next stage of your employment. And I am pleased to see that you are taking an interest in Pryce's welfare, MacDonald. Considering how he is now your superior."

I turn my gaze to Pryce and I can feel my smile widening. Ah, Angel, sometimes you really do dig your own grave.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Mr Wyndam-Pryce... or Pryce. May I call you Pryce? The other is quite a mouthful. But be that as it may, you are now officially Wolfram and Hart's new Liaison. Well done."

[_wes_pryce_]

Alright, that hurts. And she's and ugly wound fixers. But at least it's not bleeding or something rather anymore. Just painful. Well, I'm used to that. Rubbing my hand over it, I can still feel the blood wetly on my hands. "Uhm, thank you. Errr...Miss Ram?"

Do I remember when Angel signed all our souls away? Well no, not really. I know he signed something, I had no idea this 'something' would contain our souls as well. "Soul?" I blink back and forth between both of them. A tiny flicker of hope starts to stir in my heard, which by the way doesn't seem to be beating? Now there's an odd sensation.

The longer she talks, or he for that matter, the more questions I have. To say that hell is confusing would be an understatement. And why the bloody hell is McDonald suddenly so worried about my welfare? even when I'm...apparently, dead. "I don't believe you," I mutter. "Angel would never sell our souls." All of our souls in exchange for Connor's sanity? Dear lord, please tell me that he didn't.

"It's Wyndam-Pryce," I say indignantly, narrowing my eyes at her rather insulted. Wait. Wait just one second. What? "I'm Wolfram and Harts what?" And I am McDonald's my what? Now that part would be amusing, if it weren't for the first part. Liaison? What in the blazes is she on about?

[lindsey_lives]

She healed his wound without even moving. That was pretty damn impressive. One of the three most powerful demons in this dimension and a number of others. Briefly wondered if all three were equal in strength. The books and scrolls had never gotten into that.

Wait a fucking second here. He was my boss? Maybe this was a punishment after all. I looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment. Maybe it was a joke. Why did he get to be the Liaison? I knew more about the Senior Partners than anyone else.

"Oh no, Angel would never do something stupid like sign away his friends souls, or have someone who was helping him murdered. Not Captain Broody." I rolled my eyes. Please. How stupid could he be?

"He's the new Liaison? And I work for him?" Lucky fucky ducky me. That shouldn't be possible. Unless the previous one was gone. "That big guy, Hamilton? He's dead?" Of course he was, otherwise Wes wouldn't be getting the nice new job.

[_the_ram_]

I wait patiently for a few seconds whilst the pair of them process and react to what I thought of as a fairly simply concept.

"Pryce," I say coolly, "don't sound so surprised. You skipped off with Connor, abandoning all your nearest and dearest to the mercy of Holtz, when you thought the babe was in peril. And you weren't even blood kin. Is it so hard to believe that when faced with a dilemma of similar magnitude the boy's father would react as hastily and unwisely?"

My point made, I take a few paces towards them. They still the stench of humanity about them, even if the warmth and pulse of life have gone. They still, sadly, have a mere human's mentality.

My smile fades a little as I give MacDonald a brief, frosty look.

"You ran out on us and your contract," I remind him. "You tried to rebel against us. Again. So you can see, you being Liaison is simply out of the question."

But things can change. I add, silently.

[_wes_pryce_]

I narrow my eyes at Lindsey, I swallow a snide remark. He and Angel, always the same. He doesn't know anything about him, only sees the worse, the negative side. Bloody sod. He probably wished he knew Angel as well as we did, as I do. The way he was always trailing after him, always getting in his way, our way.

"Wyndam-Pryce,"I correct the twit again. How hard can it be to get a name right for a person who claims to be so intelligent? "And it's not a matter of not believing, it's a matter of not expecting to wake up here after ones death." Which would mean they haven't defeated the Senior Partners yet. Are they still fighting in the ally? God, are they dead?

But then...wouldn't they be here? Or another level of Hell. Are there levels? This is all so confusing.

"Not to mention that he's rather unstable," I snort, conveniently forgetting my time just after Fred passed away. At least Fred wont have to go through this. A first positive side of the whole thing that happened with Illyria. And Lindsey is unstable. Be with Wolfram and Hart, don't be with Wolfram and Hart. Run away, come back, fight Angel, help Angel. The man obviously can't be trusted.

Which, no doubt, is one of the reasons they've made him my assistant. "And what in the bloody blazed does being 'a liaison' entail? Miss Ram?" Stupid name if you ask me.

[lindsey_lives]

I bristled at her comments, but kept my mouth shut. Just because I was dead didn't mean I wanted to spend my unlife in pain and agony for pissing a Senior Partner off. "It seemed like a very good idea at the time." If I'd just stayed gone, I wouldn't even be here right now.

Wish Wes would shut the hell up before he made things worse. Angel and company must still be alive, otherwise they would be in this holding cell. Lucky bastards. Briefly wondered if Angel had ordered Wes to be killed too, but that seemed a bit of a stretch even for him.

I don't want to work for this guy. He didn't like me, didn't trust me, plus he'd be able to do whatever he wanted and I'd just have to take it. Scratched at the bullet holes that had almost sealed over now. The healing factor would have been nice when I was still alive.

"So I'm the Liaison's assistant. Is there a handbook or something I need to read?" Do we need to eat? Sleep? We aren't exactly zombies, but something different. Hell is what you make of it, I learned that the hard way. Just keep smiling and everything seems better.

[_the_ram_]

"And it's not a matter of not believing, it's a matter of not expecting to wake up here after ones death."

I greet that with an indulgent smile. So like humans; to work in a profession where death is very rarely the end, and still be surprised to realise that the rule applies to you too.

"Liaison, Pryce. Surely you know the basics. You've met three of the previous ones, after all. Take our word to the Wolfram and Hart CEO; keep an eye on their activities and report back to us. Quite straightforward, really."

Both men are looking at me with something most definitely not mindless adoration and fathomless awe. Their resentment boils gently around them.

Oh well. It is hardly a bad sign. It may take a little longer to break them to our will, but we will break them. And then turn that resolve to our cause. Yes, all in all, a good catch, I think.

MacDonald was nattering on about something and with a weary sigh I tuned in once more to his mental level.

"You are dead, the both of you," I say, with admirable patience. "You need neither water, air nor sunlight. Although those habits will be a bugger to kick."

[_wes_pryce_]

Ignoring McDonald, I raise an eyebrow at this Ram thing. A cold look washes over my face. If she keeps on calling me Pryce, I'm just not going to listen. I've told her twice now that's not my name. She may be a Senior something, but I'm dead anyway. What's the worse she can do?

"I don't know, not needing air might be very useful." Yes indeed. And no need for water meant no need for to stop for that pesky toilet. "I take it we are allowed to use water for hygienic purposes?" As if I care.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I sigh and give her a once over. "It's Wyndam-Pryce." You stupid little trollop. That's the Last time I'm going to point that out to her, really. "In theory, what would happen if I refuse?" And don't give me that bull about not having a choice, there's always a choice. You just have to look for it.

[lindsey_lives]

Right. We're dead and now we don't need much of anything. But we can be hurt, bleed, and suffer. Fun times. There was a question I wanted to ask, but Wes began to speak and I had to keep my jaw from dropping. He was mouthing off to Ram.

Oh, this should be fun. Most Wolfram and Hart employees would jump at the chance to become liaison to the Senior Partners, do just about anything to be given that position. And here he is being all pissy.

Hiding my smirk behind my hand, I take a couple steps back in case she decides to hit him with a bolt of lightning or something. With my luck, I'd have to patch the pieces back together again.

[_the_ram_]

I don't let my smile flicker in any way, I keep gazing at Pryce with cheerful candour. I do send one single snap along his spine, letting every single nerve of his spark and sing with sweet white agony. It's the kind of pain that, if he had any breath, would drive all air from his lungs. However, being dead... well, we can really do what we want to him.

"Your name is whatever we decide to be," I say with perfect politeness. "And if you ever look at me that way again, I will put you in a condition such that you will be unfit for work for at least a week. Understand?"

I shoot a glance at MacDonald. His eyes smile, and that's not an unpromising sign. It's amazing what a little touch of double-crossing and death will do for his concern for his former companions.

"The worst we can do to you, Pryce, has already been done," I continue calmly, with a slight shrug. "But in the living world, Charles Gunn for one still has a chance. He still lives. At least for now. Spike has yet to be dusted, Illyria yet to be decapitated. Do you begin to follow me?"

[_wes_pryce_]

Well, that hurt...somewhat...badly. Gritting my teeth, I glare at this Ram being. Playing like that are we? The rush of pain is still ringing in my ears, so I'll just pretend I've not heard her. "Insufferable wench," I mutter under my breath as I straighten up.

I've a feeling that Miss Ram and I are not going to get along. I refuse to listen to the name Pryce, I'm not her dog. I'm not anyone's dog. And if I'm to be McDonald's boss? That little smirk just got him in a lot of trouble. I'll think of something very nice. Stupid pratt.

"Really?" I cross my arms over my chest and give her a disinterested look. "If the worse has already been done, then I fail to see what I'm doing here in that case." Maybe the rest had more luck then I do. Just my rotten misfortune to die first and wind up here I guess. "Why don't you get to the bloody point." You powerhungry bint.

[lindsey_lives]

Bet that hurt quite a bit. But he doesn't cry out or anything. Bravo Wes. Talking back to a Senior Partner is a rather stupid thing to do. It was more along the lines of something I'd do.

The battle was still going? Personally, I hoped someone was beating the crap out of Angel right now, making him suffer.

I raised an eyebrow as Wes spoke again. Ram was using the usual threats. If pain doesn't bother you, we'll hurt/torture/kill those you care for until you do what we say. "Angel's still undead then? Bummer."