Paka Ahali, Chapter 12 + Epilogue
Title: Paka Ahali, Chapter Twelve + Epilogue
Author: frk_werewolf
Fandom: Angelverse
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Wesley/Gunn, Angel/Doyle, Cordelia/Various
Summary: As the infection within grows into an animal, Wesley finds himself questioning the meaning of family and fighting to protect those closest to him.
Warnings: Slash. Minor-almost-not-there Het.
Chapter Summary: The fight is on.
previously
The Arguel's living room was dark and silent, except for the bright light shining through the bottom crack of the bedroom door. Doyle dragged Lindsay into the room, throwing him into the corner. Cordelia and Doyle hovered in front of him, blocking any path he might have to escape. Wesley took in a deep breath, tightening his grip on his crossbow and waited for Angel to kick the bedroom door open.
The door flew open with a bang, light flooding Wesley's eyes. Still, his cat eyes managed to adjust quickly and he charged forward, coming up behind Angel and slipping into the room. The Arguel was sitting in the middle of the room, apparently in a meditative state. A bright light was emitting from the gem embedded in its forehead.
The Arguel slowly opened its eyes, turning to look at us. "I expected you to show up."
Wesley saw Angel tense in preparation to attack, before he faltered. Wesley made to go toward him, to see what was wrong, when he felt it. Just as before, the pressure of his mind expanding, welcoming new information, before a wave of pain swept through him. Wesley fell to his knees with a cry of pain, dropping his crossbow in order to clutch at his head.
What he saw then, Wesley would beg for an eternity to never see again. His pride completely decimated. Angel and Doyle ripped into pieces by some unknown force. Cordelia screaming in the distance. Gunn's dead body, eyes staring up at him lifelessly. Wesley dug his fingernails into his scalp, trying to claw the visions out.
He could hear the Arguel laughing and the distant sound if it moving, getting to its feet. Wesley forced his eyes open, trying to see past the pain and blood. Angel was writhing on the ground, face in vampire form and jaw clenched to keep himself from screaming. Wesley couldn't see Gunn, but he could feel his presence and instinct told him that his mate wasn't any better off than Angel.
Wesley pressed his hands against the floor, fingers pressing into the carpet as he panted for breath. His vision swam and more images attacked his brain, but he forced himself to focus on something, anything. A glint of silver caught his eye and he stared down at Angel's sword, which the vampire had dropped in agony.
A sudden rage coursed through Wesley; uncontrollable and so intense it momentarily pushed the pain the Arguel was causing to the side. Wesley took the moment to snatch up the sword and, struggling to his feet, he thrust it in the direction he was sure the Arguel was standing.
The visions stopped, the others in the room lying on the floor with residual pain in their heads. Wesley looked up at the Arguel, who clutch the hilt of the sword with one hand and stared down at him in shock. Then anger flickered across his face at the gem on his head flashed a bright purple.
Wesley could only scream in pain. It felt as though someone was ripping his mind to shreds, piece by piece. He dropped back down to his knees, his sight failing him as he slouched to the floor. Then, there was nothing as his mind collapsed onto itself and disappeared forever.
Doyle blinked up at the ceiling as his vision returned to normal. Sucking in a sharp breath, he slowly sat up, rubbing at his temple. Cordelia whimpered in pain next to him, still clutching her head. Lindsay appeared even worse for wear. It seemed the Arguel had spared no one in its attempt to defend its territory. Doyle looked toward the doorway, wondering what had happened.
Suddenly a piercing scream erupted into the air. Doyle flinched; the sound so high pitched it caused his ears to ring. It didn't sound human. It sounded more like a wounded animal. Wesley.
Doyle struggled to his feet, rushing toward the door. He entered the room just in time to see Wesley collapse and Gunn's axe to swing in a wide arch, slicing the Arguel's head off cleanly. Gunn didn't stop there; despite it being obvious the Arguel was dead. He raised his axe again and let it fall in the middle of the Arguel's head, shattering the gem.
Now satisfied, Gunn rushed to Wesley's side, lifting the man's head and wincing at the sight of blood dripping steadily from Wesley's nose. "English, come on. It's time to get up. Come on, don't do this to me, man, please."
The pain lacing his voice was too much and Doyle backed out of the room, turning to see Cordelia forcing herself to stand. His eyes landed on Lindsay and he stalked forward. Watery blue eyes peered up at him as Lindsay pressed a hand to his aching head and another to his wounded leg.
"I should kill you," Doyle informed him.
"And taint your pure little soul?" Lindsay asked, seemingly casual.
"I'm sure the Powers would thank me," Doyle replied. He knelt down in front of the man, reaching out to grab him by the jaw. He slammed Lindsay's head back, watching the plaster on the wall crack. "But instead I'm going to let you live."
"Is this where I thank you?" Lindsay's eyes were flickering, like he was about to pass out. Doyle tightened his grip, smiling when Lindsay flinched.
"No need, but if I ever see you again I'm not going to hold back," Doyle said, accent thick as his voice turned serious. "I will kill you, Lindsay, if you hurt my family again."
That said, Doyle stood and turned back to see Angel hovering in the doorway. Angel looked down, clearing his throat. "Wesley's alive, but he's not responding to anything. We need to get him back to the Hyperion."
"Right," Doyle agreed. The unnerving tension in the air between them was too much and, as though sensing Doyle's unease, Angel turned away, allowing Gunn the room to step past. Wesley was cradled in his arms and Gunn had a stone like look to him. Doyle knew he was fighting the urge to cry.
Without a word, Gunn walked past them and toward the front door. As a group they left the apartment, ignoring Lindsay still crumbled in the corner and the dead demon in the bedroom. Gunn insisted on sitting in the back with Wesley in his lap, refusing to let him go except to get out of the car when they had reached the Hyperion.
"I think we need to call Dr. Keebler," Angel commented as they entered the building. Gunn didn't reply, instead he headed straight for the stairs and, most likely, Wesley's room.
"I'll do it," Cordelia offered. Doyle watched her leave the room, leaving him with Angel.
Doyle wrapped his arms around himself, not sure what to say to the man he loved more than anything. The things that had happened recently had done more damage than Doyle would like to admit, but that didn't change the way he felt about Angel. He knew his reactions were based on something that wasn't true, not in this reality, but he hadn't been able to stop himself.
The tips of Angel's fingers brushed Doyle's hand. Doyle turned to find Angel standing close, staring down at him with a longing that made Doyle's stomach clench. "Angel...?"
"I don't...I don't want this to..." Angel sighed, rubbing at his face in frustration.
"I know," Doyle said, because Doyle always knew what Angel meant to say when he couldn't find the words. Even before they had gotten together, Doyle had been able to figure out what was going on in Angel's head.
Slowly, Doyle slipped his arms around Angel's waist and pulled the larger man into a hug. He felt Angel kiss the top of his head and smiled. He pulled back, mouth opening to speak, but Angel had descended down before a word could come out. Strong lips pressed against Doyle's and he moaned softly into Angel's mouth. Angel kissed him thoroughly, tongue searching his mouth, branding Doyle with his taste.
"That..." Doyle cleared his throat and fought down another smile. "I love you."
"I love you," Angel returned, softly.
Gunn stared at the stupid magnifying glass that the doctor held in his hand as he examined Wesley. Dr. Keebler made the occasional noise, but aside from that the room was too silent. Far too silent. There was no sound of china clinking as someone drank tea while reading in bed. There were no softly whispered words in that British accent as someone found an interesting passage and just had to share, despite it being three in the morning. It was too quiet.
Dr. Keebler stood, one hand rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. "It's your typical telepathic attack, I'm afraid."
"Meaning?" Gunn asked, ignoring the way his voice croaked with unshed emotion.
"His mind basically went through a shredding machine," Dr. Keebler explained. Gunn sucked in a sharp breath. "He'll be okay, sooner or later. The mind is an amazing place and it can rejuvenate itself. However, I'm sorry to say that when he does wake up it will be his subconscious self in control, until his conscious mind can rebuild itself."
"His...?" Gunn paused, looking down at Wesley. "You mean the animal in him. He's going to be an animal again."
"He's been an animal all this time, actually," Dr. Keebler said, casually. "He's just a very civilized one."
"But he's still Wesley," Gunn protested.
"Exactly, the infection fitted itself around Wesley instead of overriding it," Dr. Keebler informed him. "He'll always be Wesley, but at the same time he'll always be a dangerous animal. He's had to have shown it, sometime."
Gunn thought of the fight they were in, where Wesley had brought down that demon like a lion tackling its prey. Dr. Keebler didn't wait for Gunn to reply as he began packing away his things. "What do we do?"
"Right now it's just a waiting game," Dr. Keebler said. "It would probably be best if his mate--that would be you--was what he saw first."
Gunn ignored the demon doctor as he left and sat down on the bed. Wesley, as though he knew Gunn was there, rolled over. Wesley had been moving on his own, as though he were simply asleep, for some time now. Dr. Keebler, when he had first entered the room, had claimed that movement was usually done without the mind thinking about it, which is why Wesley was able to roll over now.
Gunn slid down onto the bed, pulling Wesley closer to him. He forced himself to relax and, finally, he fell asleep.
A strange rumbling noise woke him up a few hours later. It almost sounded like an engine, but it was softer and, aside from that, Gunn didn't have his head pressed against a car hood. Instead it was pressed against Wesley's chest. Gunn pried his eyes open. The room was brighter than before, with the sun was streaming through the single window across the room.
Hands were pressed against his sides, moving gently in a rhythmic motion. It took Gunn a moment to realize that Wesley was kneading him, like a cat. Slowly, Gunn lifted his head and looked down at Wesley. The purr grew louder and Wesley peered up through half-lidded eyes, the irises bright gold. Wesley's lips were parted, showing the slightest hint of his fangs. It was sexiest thing Gunn had ever seen.
"English?" Gunn whispered, lifting a hand to stroke Wesley's cheek. There was a slight flicker of recognition, but it was no more than that of a cat hearing its owner call its name. Gunn shuddered, feeling tears sting the back of his eyes.
As though sensing his distress, Wesley cuddled up closer to him, nuzzling his neck as the purr kicked up another notch. Gunn sighed, resting his cheek against Wesley's forehead and trying to keep himself from running out of the room. "Everything's going to be okay, Wesley."
Wesley made a soft noise, as though agreeing. If only Gunn felt so hopeful. He knew, deep down, that Wesley would come back from this. That's how strong he was.
Gunn reached up, running his fingers through Wesley's hair. He felt Wesley relaxed, then the subtle change in his breathing that told Gunn that he was asleep. Gunn slowly pried himself away, needing to get out of the room.
"How is he?" Cordelia asked as he passed her, making his way to the kitchen.
"He's...alive," Gunn replied. Gunn glanced past her, out the kitchen door and across the lobby where he could see Angel and Doyle sitting on the sofa, talking. "Are they back together or what?"
"Hopefully," Cordelia said with a shrug. She watched him a moment, her eyes older than he had ever noticed before. "He'll be fine, Gunn."
"How do you know?" Gunn whispered.
"Hey, which one of us is the Vision Girl, hmm?" Cordelia asked, grinning. Gunn looked over at her, noticing the pure hope in her eyes. She radiated with a sense of knowledge and Gunn felt, for once, he had to trust her.
He was glad he did. One week later, Wesley woke up saying his name for the first time since before the battle.
Epilogue
Fighting change is useless, in the end. Change isn't just an occurrence; it isn't simply a force appearing in the lives of free willed creatures. Change is a spirit all on its own and only change decided when and how it was going to occur.
Wesley was never one to take something for granted and, while at times he would wish none of this ever happened, all he needed to do was look around and see what change had brought him. A pride, filled with people that cared more about him than his birth parents. A mate, who allowed Wesley to be both dominant and submissive, according to his mood.
The difficult side of change was not fighting it, as though it were an enemy. This caused people to react badly, to do the complete opposite of what their character normally would have. Wesley knew this, for he had watched the struggle Doyle had undergone. Still, even the bad results of a decision could lead to something good, something whole.
The key, no matter what, was to remember that change was both punishment and reward for life itself.
Final Notes:
Started: January 14, 2006
Completed: May 9, 2007
This concludes the L.A. based storyline for the Fisi-Verse. The Sunnydale based storyline will be completed in the brief Dini Na Ajali, coming soon.
Author: frk_werewolf
Fandom: Angelverse
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Wesley/Gunn, Angel/Doyle, Cordelia/Various
Summary: As the infection within grows into an animal, Wesley finds himself questioning the meaning of family and fighting to protect those closest to him.
Warnings: Slash. Minor-almost-not-there Het.
Chapter Summary: The fight is on.
previously
The Arguel's living room was dark and silent, except for the bright light shining through the bottom crack of the bedroom door. Doyle dragged Lindsay into the room, throwing him into the corner. Cordelia and Doyle hovered in front of him, blocking any path he might have to escape. Wesley took in a deep breath, tightening his grip on his crossbow and waited for Angel to kick the bedroom door open.
The door flew open with a bang, light flooding Wesley's eyes. Still, his cat eyes managed to adjust quickly and he charged forward, coming up behind Angel and slipping into the room. The Arguel was sitting in the middle of the room, apparently in a meditative state. A bright light was emitting from the gem embedded in its forehead.
The Arguel slowly opened its eyes, turning to look at us. "I expected you to show up."
Wesley saw Angel tense in preparation to attack, before he faltered. Wesley made to go toward him, to see what was wrong, when he felt it. Just as before, the pressure of his mind expanding, welcoming new information, before a wave of pain swept through him. Wesley fell to his knees with a cry of pain, dropping his crossbow in order to clutch at his head.
What he saw then, Wesley would beg for an eternity to never see again. His pride completely decimated. Angel and Doyle ripped into pieces by some unknown force. Cordelia screaming in the distance. Gunn's dead body, eyes staring up at him lifelessly. Wesley dug his fingernails into his scalp, trying to claw the visions out.
He could hear the Arguel laughing and the distant sound if it moving, getting to its feet. Wesley forced his eyes open, trying to see past the pain and blood. Angel was writhing on the ground, face in vampire form and jaw clenched to keep himself from screaming. Wesley couldn't see Gunn, but he could feel his presence and instinct told him that his mate wasn't any better off than Angel.
Wesley pressed his hands against the floor, fingers pressing into the carpet as he panted for breath. His vision swam and more images attacked his brain, but he forced himself to focus on something, anything. A glint of silver caught his eye and he stared down at Angel's sword, which the vampire had dropped in agony.
A sudden rage coursed through Wesley; uncontrollable and so intense it momentarily pushed the pain the Arguel was causing to the side. Wesley took the moment to snatch up the sword and, struggling to his feet, he thrust it in the direction he was sure the Arguel was standing.
The visions stopped, the others in the room lying on the floor with residual pain in their heads. Wesley looked up at the Arguel, who clutch the hilt of the sword with one hand and stared down at him in shock. Then anger flickered across his face at the gem on his head flashed a bright purple.
Wesley could only scream in pain. It felt as though someone was ripping his mind to shreds, piece by piece. He dropped back down to his knees, his sight failing him as he slouched to the floor. Then, there was nothing as his mind collapsed onto itself and disappeared forever.
Doyle blinked up at the ceiling as his vision returned to normal. Sucking in a sharp breath, he slowly sat up, rubbing at his temple. Cordelia whimpered in pain next to him, still clutching her head. Lindsay appeared even worse for wear. It seemed the Arguel had spared no one in its attempt to defend its territory. Doyle looked toward the doorway, wondering what had happened.
Suddenly a piercing scream erupted into the air. Doyle flinched; the sound so high pitched it caused his ears to ring. It didn't sound human. It sounded more like a wounded animal. Wesley.
Doyle struggled to his feet, rushing toward the door. He entered the room just in time to see Wesley collapse and Gunn's axe to swing in a wide arch, slicing the Arguel's head off cleanly. Gunn didn't stop there; despite it being obvious the Arguel was dead. He raised his axe again and let it fall in the middle of the Arguel's head, shattering the gem.
Now satisfied, Gunn rushed to Wesley's side, lifting the man's head and wincing at the sight of blood dripping steadily from Wesley's nose. "English, come on. It's time to get up. Come on, don't do this to me, man, please."
The pain lacing his voice was too much and Doyle backed out of the room, turning to see Cordelia forcing herself to stand. His eyes landed on Lindsay and he stalked forward. Watery blue eyes peered up at him as Lindsay pressed a hand to his aching head and another to his wounded leg.
"I should kill you," Doyle informed him.
"And taint your pure little soul?" Lindsay asked, seemingly casual.
"I'm sure the Powers would thank me," Doyle replied. He knelt down in front of the man, reaching out to grab him by the jaw. He slammed Lindsay's head back, watching the plaster on the wall crack. "But instead I'm going to let you live."
"Is this where I thank you?" Lindsay's eyes were flickering, like he was about to pass out. Doyle tightened his grip, smiling when Lindsay flinched.
"No need, but if I ever see you again I'm not going to hold back," Doyle said, accent thick as his voice turned serious. "I will kill you, Lindsay, if you hurt my family again."
That said, Doyle stood and turned back to see Angel hovering in the doorway. Angel looked down, clearing his throat. "Wesley's alive, but he's not responding to anything. We need to get him back to the Hyperion."
"Right," Doyle agreed. The unnerving tension in the air between them was too much and, as though sensing Doyle's unease, Angel turned away, allowing Gunn the room to step past. Wesley was cradled in his arms and Gunn had a stone like look to him. Doyle knew he was fighting the urge to cry.
Without a word, Gunn walked past them and toward the front door. As a group they left the apartment, ignoring Lindsay still crumbled in the corner and the dead demon in the bedroom. Gunn insisted on sitting in the back with Wesley in his lap, refusing to let him go except to get out of the car when they had reached the Hyperion.
"I think we need to call Dr. Keebler," Angel commented as they entered the building. Gunn didn't reply, instead he headed straight for the stairs and, most likely, Wesley's room.
"I'll do it," Cordelia offered. Doyle watched her leave the room, leaving him with Angel.
Doyle wrapped his arms around himself, not sure what to say to the man he loved more than anything. The things that had happened recently had done more damage than Doyle would like to admit, but that didn't change the way he felt about Angel. He knew his reactions were based on something that wasn't true, not in this reality, but he hadn't been able to stop himself.
The tips of Angel's fingers brushed Doyle's hand. Doyle turned to find Angel standing close, staring down at him with a longing that made Doyle's stomach clench. "Angel...?"
"I don't...I don't want this to..." Angel sighed, rubbing at his face in frustration.
"I know," Doyle said, because Doyle always knew what Angel meant to say when he couldn't find the words. Even before they had gotten together, Doyle had been able to figure out what was going on in Angel's head.
Slowly, Doyle slipped his arms around Angel's waist and pulled the larger man into a hug. He felt Angel kiss the top of his head and smiled. He pulled back, mouth opening to speak, but Angel had descended down before a word could come out. Strong lips pressed against Doyle's and he moaned softly into Angel's mouth. Angel kissed him thoroughly, tongue searching his mouth, branding Doyle with his taste.
"That..." Doyle cleared his throat and fought down another smile. "I love you."
"I love you," Angel returned, softly.
Gunn stared at the stupid magnifying glass that the doctor held in his hand as he examined Wesley. Dr. Keebler made the occasional noise, but aside from that the room was too silent. Far too silent. There was no sound of china clinking as someone drank tea while reading in bed. There were no softly whispered words in that British accent as someone found an interesting passage and just had to share, despite it being three in the morning. It was too quiet.
Dr. Keebler stood, one hand rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. "It's your typical telepathic attack, I'm afraid."
"Meaning?" Gunn asked, ignoring the way his voice croaked with unshed emotion.
"His mind basically went through a shredding machine," Dr. Keebler explained. Gunn sucked in a sharp breath. "He'll be okay, sooner or later. The mind is an amazing place and it can rejuvenate itself. However, I'm sorry to say that when he does wake up it will be his subconscious self in control, until his conscious mind can rebuild itself."
"His...?" Gunn paused, looking down at Wesley. "You mean the animal in him. He's going to be an animal again."
"He's been an animal all this time, actually," Dr. Keebler said, casually. "He's just a very civilized one."
"But he's still Wesley," Gunn protested.
"Exactly, the infection fitted itself around Wesley instead of overriding it," Dr. Keebler informed him. "He'll always be Wesley, but at the same time he'll always be a dangerous animal. He's had to have shown it, sometime."
Gunn thought of the fight they were in, where Wesley had brought down that demon like a lion tackling its prey. Dr. Keebler didn't wait for Gunn to reply as he began packing away his things. "What do we do?"
"Right now it's just a waiting game," Dr. Keebler said. "It would probably be best if his mate--that would be you--was what he saw first."
Gunn ignored the demon doctor as he left and sat down on the bed. Wesley, as though he knew Gunn was there, rolled over. Wesley had been moving on his own, as though he were simply asleep, for some time now. Dr. Keebler, when he had first entered the room, had claimed that movement was usually done without the mind thinking about it, which is why Wesley was able to roll over now.
Gunn slid down onto the bed, pulling Wesley closer to him. He forced himself to relax and, finally, he fell asleep.
A strange rumbling noise woke him up a few hours later. It almost sounded like an engine, but it was softer and, aside from that, Gunn didn't have his head pressed against a car hood. Instead it was pressed against Wesley's chest. Gunn pried his eyes open. The room was brighter than before, with the sun was streaming through the single window across the room.
Hands were pressed against his sides, moving gently in a rhythmic motion. It took Gunn a moment to realize that Wesley was kneading him, like a cat. Slowly, Gunn lifted his head and looked down at Wesley. The purr grew louder and Wesley peered up through half-lidded eyes, the irises bright gold. Wesley's lips were parted, showing the slightest hint of his fangs. It was sexiest thing Gunn had ever seen.
"English?" Gunn whispered, lifting a hand to stroke Wesley's cheek. There was a slight flicker of recognition, but it was no more than that of a cat hearing its owner call its name. Gunn shuddered, feeling tears sting the back of his eyes.
As though sensing his distress, Wesley cuddled up closer to him, nuzzling his neck as the purr kicked up another notch. Gunn sighed, resting his cheek against Wesley's forehead and trying to keep himself from running out of the room. "Everything's going to be okay, Wesley."
Wesley made a soft noise, as though agreeing. If only Gunn felt so hopeful. He knew, deep down, that Wesley would come back from this. That's how strong he was.
Gunn reached up, running his fingers through Wesley's hair. He felt Wesley relaxed, then the subtle change in his breathing that told Gunn that he was asleep. Gunn slowly pried himself away, needing to get out of the room.
"How is he?" Cordelia asked as he passed her, making his way to the kitchen.
"He's...alive," Gunn replied. Gunn glanced past her, out the kitchen door and across the lobby where he could see Angel and Doyle sitting on the sofa, talking. "Are they back together or what?"
"Hopefully," Cordelia said with a shrug. She watched him a moment, her eyes older than he had ever noticed before. "He'll be fine, Gunn."
"How do you know?" Gunn whispered.
"Hey, which one of us is the Vision Girl, hmm?" Cordelia asked, grinning. Gunn looked over at her, noticing the pure hope in her eyes. She radiated with a sense of knowledge and Gunn felt, for once, he had to trust her.
He was glad he did. One week later, Wesley woke up saying his name for the first time since before the battle.
Epilogue
Fighting change is useless, in the end. Change isn't just an occurrence; it isn't simply a force appearing in the lives of free willed creatures. Change is a spirit all on its own and only change decided when and how it was going to occur.
Wesley was never one to take something for granted and, while at times he would wish none of this ever happened, all he needed to do was look around and see what change had brought him. A pride, filled with people that cared more about him than his birth parents. A mate, who allowed Wesley to be both dominant and submissive, according to his mood.
The difficult side of change was not fighting it, as though it were an enemy. This caused people to react badly, to do the complete opposite of what their character normally would have. Wesley knew this, for he had watched the struggle Doyle had undergone. Still, even the bad results of a decision could lead to something good, something whole.
The key, no matter what, was to remember that change was both punishment and reward for life itself.
Final Notes:
Started: January 14, 2006
Completed: May 9, 2007
This concludes the L.A. based storyline for the Fisi-Verse. The Sunnydale based storyline will be completed in the brief Dini Na Ajali, coming soon.