Paka Ahali, Chapter Five
Title: Paka Ahali, Chapter Five
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. And character death, only not so much.
Chapter Summary: Wesley speaks with Doyle, then with Gunn.
previous chapters
"I'm not meant to be here, you know." Doyle commented, his eyes focused on the open window. The orange glow of the sun rising from the east set the room on fire. Angel couldn't enter due to the light and had, after yelling through the door for a few minutes, left Doyle alone. Wesley, up until this point had forgotten, that Doyle even had his own room, though he could understand the need to get away from a lover on occasion.
"I think you're exactly where you are meant to be." Wesley replied. He had come to check on Doyle not long after Angel's retreat. The urge to comfort their leader's mate was strong and Wesley had to give in. Watching Doyle stare at the cars driving by forlornly proved that his instinct was right. Doyle didn't need to be alone. "Do you want to talk about what you saw?"
"It's hard to explain." Doyle admitted, stepping away from the window and walking toward the bed. "I died. Before you showed up we had this run in with the Scourge. Angel pretending to be a recruit and managed to rewire part of their beacon, which was meant to destroy anything with human blood, before they could use it on this family of half-breeds. In my vision, things happened a little differently. Angel didn't rewire it and they set the beacon off. I unplugged it, but burned into a million little dust particles in the process.
"And then this last one..." Doyle shook his head and met Wesley's eyes. "I think I took away Angel's redemption."
"I don't understand. How can you take something like that away?" Wesley asked. It didn't seem possible to him.
"Remember that prophecy? The one that had the resurrection that Wolfram and Hart were attempting?" Wesley nodded. He remembered being hunched over that piece of parchment, passing over words associated with angels and messengers, searching for something that the law firm could actually be using. He had been obsessed, so much so that he forgot to look at his surroundings and ended up in the hospital when their old office exploded. "It also had a prophecy in it about Angel."
"That doesn't mean you--"
"I lived. I was supposed to die because of the Scourge, but instead I was there to keep you from reading every inch of that thing. Remember? I insisted you just skim through it and look for something in the now, not later." Doyle took a deep breath. "Because of me, how are we to know that part of the prophecy is even in there now? It's destroyed, there is no telling what it said."
"That's not your fault. If I remember correctly, and I think I do, you were too busy being tied to a hospital bed from all of those visions." Wesley insisted.
He hated seeing Doyle like this. He hated seeing anyone like this. It made him feel like he wasn't doing his job. He was supposed to be there in order to make things a little easier on everyone else. He researched and acted as background support so they wouldn't have to, so they could focus on what was important.
"Do you know what happened after Wolfram and Hart resurrected whatever they were supposed to?" Wesley asked.
When they had discovered the law firm's plans, Angel and Cordelia had agreed that destroying the parchment before the ceremony could finish was their best option. While Gunn, just recently an acquaintance of Angel's, watched over Wesley, Cordelia sat next to Doyle and held his hand. Angel tracked the demon that had placed them in the hospital down and proceeded to steal the prophecy and destroy it. No resurrection ever took place.
"I didn't see that far." Doyle admitted. "Just to the part about Angel's redemption."
"Maybe... Maybe it would be best if we looked into this." Wesley suggested. "Instead of simply letting these visions come and go. We should find a reason. Why now? Something must be triggering them."
"Research Boy to the rescue?" Doyle gave a weak smile. Wesley fought down a flinch, knowing that Doyle was just trying to look on the bright side of things. "It seems kind of pointless. Who's to say the Powers aren't just trying to screw with my head?"
"While I'm not an expert at the Powers, I would think that they would have the understanding that you are what holds Angel together. If they want to keep him as a Champion then they better make sure you're safe and sound." Wesley informed him. Doyle bit his lower lip and looked away. "Doyle?"
"Then, what if I'm just seeing this stuff because they want to make sure I don't stray? Like a sort of 'this is what was going to happen if you weren't there, so you better realize that you have no place to go' sort of deal?" Doyle crossed his arms rather defiantly. "I don't like being... Told what to do or held captive. A part of me is urging to just get up and walk away, just to see if that will change things."
"I'll look into it." Wesley said, determined to not acknowledge that comment. The idea made his heartache and his fangs -- Would he ever get over the fact that he had fangs, now? -- sting. He didn't want this pride to break up, it was too important.
Standing, Wesley left Doyle to his thoughts. He found Angel hovering in the shadow of the hallway, keeping watch over his lover's door. Wesley felt a sweep of loneliness at the sight. It was the same feeling he always developed when he saw the two together, whether they were taking a moment to actually kiss in semi-public or arguing. Wesley sighed and opted to leave Angel to his worrisome thoughts. Wesley felt he had drained all his energy attempting to help other people today.
The library, which took up a room that had once been a place for social interaction, was Wesley's home away from home. When things were bothering him he usually spent more time inside its walls than usual. Wesley had to admit that, if it weren’t for being locked inside the basement and injured before that, he probably would have been there a lot sooner.
Perhaps it was fate, Wesley didn't know, but someone had left the book devoted to cat demons on the table. For a moment, Wesley didn't plan on reading it. He was there to research visions gone bad, not read about what was now coursing through his veins. He didn't feel that affected by the demon blood, anyway. He was still the same: a knowledge addict, who often felt inadequate and had a mild crush on his best friend.
It was the small things that changed. The way he looked, for one. The constant urge to protect everyone and to ensure the survival of the group. But these were mild. His sense of smell was stronger, his reflexes quicker. Yet, again, they were mild.
Cordelia's date flashed before his eyes, blood slick on the floor. Wesley took a deep breath and pulled the book toward him.
He was still studying when Gunn entered the room. His musky scent hit Wesley's nose, sending a sharp sting of arousal through his body. Wesley was barely able to push the sensation away, but finally managed as the younger man walked over. Wesley felt the heat radiating off of Gunn's body as he stood behind Wesley, looking over his shoulder.
"What's all this?" Gunn asked, reaching past Wesley to lift the book off the table. Wesley stared at the inside of Gunn's arm, shocked as he realized he could practically hear the rush of blood within Gunn's veins. "Wes?"
"I thought it would be a good idea to look up what... What I've become." Wesley finally said.
"Anything new?" Gunn slid into the seat next to Wesley, pushing the book back into its place before him. Wesley missed his heat.
"Just a few things that seem to be a delayed reaction." Wesley felt his blood rush to his skin. He was blushing, a lot. "They take a few days to manifest."
"Like what?" Gunn tilted his head in question. Wesley paused.
Should he tell? It wasn't like it was a horrible secret that would end Wesley's relationship with him. Wesley knew that Gunn was much stronger than everyone else gave him credit for. Gunn was what Wesley's father would call a worthless thug, a gangster that was destroying the economy, and an ignorant fool that didn't know subtraction from his ABCs. Wesley knew differently.
But then, to Wesley, Gunn was everything. Wesley hated it, he truly did. He didn't like to be needy or dependent. He hated knowing that if Gunn were to leave him, he would simply curl up and let death suck him under.
"English?" Gunn whispered, pulling Wesley away from his thoughts. God, how Wesley loved it when Gunn called him that.
"Soon, I'll bring you food and cater to your every need." Wesley said, his voice monotone. "I'll defend you and attempt to kill anyone who gets between us. I'll be violent."
"What? I don't understand."
"I'm not making much sense, am I?" Wesley smiled, bitterly. "It doesn't make sense. I keep shifting, you know. My mind, from an intellectual to pure instinct. Thoughts bouncing around... Those that receive the infection of this type of demon take on personality traits."
"What kind of personality traits?" Gunn asked.
"The Paklin is a lion demon." Wesley began, looking away so he didn't have to see Gunn's face. The thoughts that hit him every time the man was near was too much right then. Wesley couldn’t deal with it. "Do you remember Xander? He's joined with a hyena spirit, an alpha female. There are certain instincts that a hyena has that Xander can't control. He holds Tara in extremely high regard not only because of her power, but because she is female. He's highly protective of his pack, and especially his mate. Though Spike is a vampire, Xander will always feel the urge to protect him as though he were weak. Partly because Spike is male and partly because Xander is an alpha creature."
"What does this have to do with you?"
"Lions don't have packs, they have prides. This is my pride." Wesley gestured around the library. He knew Gunn would understand that he meant those that dwelt within this home and not the actual building. "They don't typically mate for life, though I'm sure you've watched enough Discovery Channel to know that. The Paklin, however, do. Angel has Doyle and they are forever mates. Cordelia is... She's drifting and searching, but she's not looking in the right place. It'll be a while before she gets her princess."
"Wait, did you just say princess?" Gunn interrupted, pulling Wesley from his nearly poetic thoughts. Wesley smirked. "That's just weird, English. There is no way this little 'pride' has so many gay couples."
"Less likely events have happened." Wesley commented. He met Gunn's eyes, taking a moment to swim in the affection found there. "I must be honest with you, Charles."
"I'd like that." Gunn admitted with a lopsided smile.
"I want you." Wesley whispered. "I... I think I belong to you. When I talked about feeding you and defending you... That's the Paklin's way of courting their mates. It's too forward for me to do, but I feel the urge. I don't think you'd make the first move, though I wish you would, so I'm stuck with doing it myself."
"What makes you think...?" Gunn trailed off and gulped. After a moment of silence, he started again. "What makes you think I won't make the first move?"
"Well, I didn't know if--" Wesley began. Gunn snorted, cutting him off.
"You're talking about wanting and desire here, Wes. I wanted to be with you the moment I saw you in that hospital bed." Gunn shook his head and smiled. "I thought Angel was crazy, ordering me to stand guard over this skinny white guy."
"Ah, yes, I remember." Wesley had been rather out of hit when Gunn had shown up. Morphine was a lovely thing, indeed.
"Then you opened your eyes." Gunn half-chuckled, almost as though he were embarrassed. Wesley wasn't used to see Gunn this way. "You have beautiful eyes, Wes. Even now with the cat pupils, they're still as blue as the ocean."
"Thank you." Wesley gulped and looked away, face flushed. The serious aspect of the conversation hung thick over his head. "Maybe I should begin researching Doyle's visions. I promised, after all."
"Right." Gunn nodded and made to stand up. He paused, watching Wesley's profile carefully. "Want some help?"
"No, that's--" Wesley bit his lip. "Sure, I'd like that."
As Gunn worked alongside him, Wesley couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. While their new course of study turned out to be difficult, Wesley could not think of any other way he'd rather spend his day than next to Gunn and surrounded by books. He had expected Gunn to go terse around him now that Gunn knew how he felt. He thought he would be abandoned, ignored. It was a silly belief, but Wesley had a tendency to expect the worst.
"We should go for coffee or something." Gunn suggested. Wesley looked up and noticed the nervous tension in Gunn's shoulders. "Or, you know, something else if you don't like coffee..."
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Wesley asked, forcing down the sudden urge to howl in delight.
"Maybe." Gunn's eyes darted away as he seemed to struggle at not meeting Wesley's eyes. Wesley patiently waited him out. Gunn sighed. "Yeah."
"I would enjoy that, I think." Wesley slowly began to smile.
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. And character death, only not so much.
Chapter Summary: Wesley speaks with Doyle, then with Gunn.
previous chapters
"I'm not meant to be here, you know." Doyle commented, his eyes focused on the open window. The orange glow of the sun rising from the east set the room on fire. Angel couldn't enter due to the light and had, after yelling through the door for a few minutes, left Doyle alone. Wesley, up until this point had forgotten, that Doyle even had his own room, though he could understand the need to get away from a lover on occasion.
"I think you're exactly where you are meant to be." Wesley replied. He had come to check on Doyle not long after Angel's retreat. The urge to comfort their leader's mate was strong and Wesley had to give in. Watching Doyle stare at the cars driving by forlornly proved that his instinct was right. Doyle didn't need to be alone. "Do you want to talk about what you saw?"
"It's hard to explain." Doyle admitted, stepping away from the window and walking toward the bed. "I died. Before you showed up we had this run in with the Scourge. Angel pretending to be a recruit and managed to rewire part of their beacon, which was meant to destroy anything with human blood, before they could use it on this family of half-breeds. In my vision, things happened a little differently. Angel didn't rewire it and they set the beacon off. I unplugged it, but burned into a million little dust particles in the process.
"And then this last one..." Doyle shook his head and met Wesley's eyes. "I think I took away Angel's redemption."
"I don't understand. How can you take something like that away?" Wesley asked. It didn't seem possible to him.
"Remember that prophecy? The one that had the resurrection that Wolfram and Hart were attempting?" Wesley nodded. He remembered being hunched over that piece of parchment, passing over words associated with angels and messengers, searching for something that the law firm could actually be using. He had been obsessed, so much so that he forgot to look at his surroundings and ended up in the hospital when their old office exploded. "It also had a prophecy in it about Angel."
"That doesn't mean you--"
"I lived. I was supposed to die because of the Scourge, but instead I was there to keep you from reading every inch of that thing. Remember? I insisted you just skim through it and look for something in the now, not later." Doyle took a deep breath. "Because of me, how are we to know that part of the prophecy is even in there now? It's destroyed, there is no telling what it said."
"That's not your fault. If I remember correctly, and I think I do, you were too busy being tied to a hospital bed from all of those visions." Wesley insisted.
He hated seeing Doyle like this. He hated seeing anyone like this. It made him feel like he wasn't doing his job. He was supposed to be there in order to make things a little easier on everyone else. He researched and acted as background support so they wouldn't have to, so they could focus on what was important.
"Do you know what happened after Wolfram and Hart resurrected whatever they were supposed to?" Wesley asked.
When they had discovered the law firm's plans, Angel and Cordelia had agreed that destroying the parchment before the ceremony could finish was their best option. While Gunn, just recently an acquaintance of Angel's, watched over Wesley, Cordelia sat next to Doyle and held his hand. Angel tracked the demon that had placed them in the hospital down and proceeded to steal the prophecy and destroy it. No resurrection ever took place.
"I didn't see that far." Doyle admitted. "Just to the part about Angel's redemption."
"Maybe... Maybe it would be best if we looked into this." Wesley suggested. "Instead of simply letting these visions come and go. We should find a reason. Why now? Something must be triggering them."
"Research Boy to the rescue?" Doyle gave a weak smile. Wesley fought down a flinch, knowing that Doyle was just trying to look on the bright side of things. "It seems kind of pointless. Who's to say the Powers aren't just trying to screw with my head?"
"While I'm not an expert at the Powers, I would think that they would have the understanding that you are what holds Angel together. If they want to keep him as a Champion then they better make sure you're safe and sound." Wesley informed him. Doyle bit his lower lip and looked away. "Doyle?"
"Then, what if I'm just seeing this stuff because they want to make sure I don't stray? Like a sort of 'this is what was going to happen if you weren't there, so you better realize that you have no place to go' sort of deal?" Doyle crossed his arms rather defiantly. "I don't like being... Told what to do or held captive. A part of me is urging to just get up and walk away, just to see if that will change things."
"I'll look into it." Wesley said, determined to not acknowledge that comment. The idea made his heartache and his fangs -- Would he ever get over the fact that he had fangs, now? -- sting. He didn't want this pride to break up, it was too important.
Standing, Wesley left Doyle to his thoughts. He found Angel hovering in the shadow of the hallway, keeping watch over his lover's door. Wesley felt a sweep of loneliness at the sight. It was the same feeling he always developed when he saw the two together, whether they were taking a moment to actually kiss in semi-public or arguing. Wesley sighed and opted to leave Angel to his worrisome thoughts. Wesley felt he had drained all his energy attempting to help other people today.
The library, which took up a room that had once been a place for social interaction, was Wesley's home away from home. When things were bothering him he usually spent more time inside its walls than usual. Wesley had to admit that, if it weren’t for being locked inside the basement and injured before that, he probably would have been there a lot sooner.
Perhaps it was fate, Wesley didn't know, but someone had left the book devoted to cat demons on the table. For a moment, Wesley didn't plan on reading it. He was there to research visions gone bad, not read about what was now coursing through his veins. He didn't feel that affected by the demon blood, anyway. He was still the same: a knowledge addict, who often felt inadequate and had a mild crush on his best friend.
It was the small things that changed. The way he looked, for one. The constant urge to protect everyone and to ensure the survival of the group. But these were mild. His sense of smell was stronger, his reflexes quicker. Yet, again, they were mild.
Cordelia's date flashed before his eyes, blood slick on the floor. Wesley took a deep breath and pulled the book toward him.
He was still studying when Gunn entered the room. His musky scent hit Wesley's nose, sending a sharp sting of arousal through his body. Wesley was barely able to push the sensation away, but finally managed as the younger man walked over. Wesley felt the heat radiating off of Gunn's body as he stood behind Wesley, looking over his shoulder.
"What's all this?" Gunn asked, reaching past Wesley to lift the book off the table. Wesley stared at the inside of Gunn's arm, shocked as he realized he could practically hear the rush of blood within Gunn's veins. "Wes?"
"I thought it would be a good idea to look up what... What I've become." Wesley finally said.
"Anything new?" Gunn slid into the seat next to Wesley, pushing the book back into its place before him. Wesley missed his heat.
"Just a few things that seem to be a delayed reaction." Wesley felt his blood rush to his skin. He was blushing, a lot. "They take a few days to manifest."
"Like what?" Gunn tilted his head in question. Wesley paused.
Should he tell? It wasn't like it was a horrible secret that would end Wesley's relationship with him. Wesley knew that Gunn was much stronger than everyone else gave him credit for. Gunn was what Wesley's father would call a worthless thug, a gangster that was destroying the economy, and an ignorant fool that didn't know subtraction from his ABCs. Wesley knew differently.
But then, to Wesley, Gunn was everything. Wesley hated it, he truly did. He didn't like to be needy or dependent. He hated knowing that if Gunn were to leave him, he would simply curl up and let death suck him under.
"English?" Gunn whispered, pulling Wesley away from his thoughts. God, how Wesley loved it when Gunn called him that.
"Soon, I'll bring you food and cater to your every need." Wesley said, his voice monotone. "I'll defend you and attempt to kill anyone who gets between us. I'll be violent."
"What? I don't understand."
"I'm not making much sense, am I?" Wesley smiled, bitterly. "It doesn't make sense. I keep shifting, you know. My mind, from an intellectual to pure instinct. Thoughts bouncing around... Those that receive the infection of this type of demon take on personality traits."
"What kind of personality traits?" Gunn asked.
"The Paklin is a lion demon." Wesley began, looking away so he didn't have to see Gunn's face. The thoughts that hit him every time the man was near was too much right then. Wesley couldn’t deal with it. "Do you remember Xander? He's joined with a hyena spirit, an alpha female. There are certain instincts that a hyena has that Xander can't control. He holds Tara in extremely high regard not only because of her power, but because she is female. He's highly protective of his pack, and especially his mate. Though Spike is a vampire, Xander will always feel the urge to protect him as though he were weak. Partly because Spike is male and partly because Xander is an alpha creature."
"What does this have to do with you?"
"Lions don't have packs, they have prides. This is my pride." Wesley gestured around the library. He knew Gunn would understand that he meant those that dwelt within this home and not the actual building. "They don't typically mate for life, though I'm sure you've watched enough Discovery Channel to know that. The Paklin, however, do. Angel has Doyle and they are forever mates. Cordelia is... She's drifting and searching, but she's not looking in the right place. It'll be a while before she gets her princess."
"Wait, did you just say princess?" Gunn interrupted, pulling Wesley from his nearly poetic thoughts. Wesley smirked. "That's just weird, English. There is no way this little 'pride' has so many gay couples."
"Less likely events have happened." Wesley commented. He met Gunn's eyes, taking a moment to swim in the affection found there. "I must be honest with you, Charles."
"I'd like that." Gunn admitted with a lopsided smile.
"I want you." Wesley whispered. "I... I think I belong to you. When I talked about feeding you and defending you... That's the Paklin's way of courting their mates. It's too forward for me to do, but I feel the urge. I don't think you'd make the first move, though I wish you would, so I'm stuck with doing it myself."
"What makes you think...?" Gunn trailed off and gulped. After a moment of silence, he started again. "What makes you think I won't make the first move?"
"Well, I didn't know if--" Wesley began. Gunn snorted, cutting him off.
"You're talking about wanting and desire here, Wes. I wanted to be with you the moment I saw you in that hospital bed." Gunn shook his head and smiled. "I thought Angel was crazy, ordering me to stand guard over this skinny white guy."
"Ah, yes, I remember." Wesley had been rather out of hit when Gunn had shown up. Morphine was a lovely thing, indeed.
"Then you opened your eyes." Gunn half-chuckled, almost as though he were embarrassed. Wesley wasn't used to see Gunn this way. "You have beautiful eyes, Wes. Even now with the cat pupils, they're still as blue as the ocean."
"Thank you." Wesley gulped and looked away, face flushed. The serious aspect of the conversation hung thick over his head. "Maybe I should begin researching Doyle's visions. I promised, after all."
"Right." Gunn nodded and made to stand up. He paused, watching Wesley's profile carefully. "Want some help?"
"No, that's--" Wesley bit his lip. "Sure, I'd like that."
As Gunn worked alongside him, Wesley couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. While their new course of study turned out to be difficult, Wesley could not think of any other way he'd rather spend his day than next to Gunn and surrounded by books. He had expected Gunn to go terse around him now that Gunn knew how he felt. He thought he would be abandoned, ignored. It was a silly belief, but Wesley had a tendency to expect the worst.
"We should go for coffee or something." Gunn suggested. Wesley looked up and noticed the nervous tension in Gunn's shoulders. "Or, you know, something else if you don't like coffee..."
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Wesley asked, forcing down the sudden urge to howl in delight.
"Maybe." Gunn's eyes darted away as he seemed to struggle at not meeting Wesley's eyes. Wesley patiently waited him out. Gunn sighed. "Yeah."
"I would enjoy that, I think." Wesley slowly began to smile.