waking up is hard to do

Jul 29, 2006 04:12

Something didn't feel right. My first step into waking up - and the first of my steps this week into understatement history, ironically - was met with much confusion. There were people around me, I knew that much, all bustling back and forth and paying no attention to the previously comatose one who'd just woken up from her-- Woah ( Read more... )

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_wes_pryce_ August 1 2006, 20:16:15 UTC
She sways when she sees us and I quickly dart past Gunn to catch her before she does fall down. And Gunn being Gunn is really not helping at the moment. At least he still has the same sense of none humor. “Charles,” I warn him, keeping Cordelia up. I glared at him before turning back to Cordelia.

“Cordy?” I asked carefully, wondering why the medical staff was looking at us as though we were a couple of freaks, or at least Cordelia was a freak Weren’t they supposed to work miracles? Isn’t that what Angel was paying them for? Or I, at the moment, for god only knows how long.

Carefully, I helped her to the bed, wanting her to sit down. Cordelia being Cordy had other idea’s. “Don’t I wish,” I muttered when she said Angel was holding the reigns. “Angel’s not around right now,” I explained, skillfully skirting past the whole working for evil subject. “He’s of to-to.. I don’t really know where he is. But you’re back. I mean… awake, how do you feel? Do you need anything?” Wait, tossed into the weapons cabinet? I don’t… I don’t remember that.

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_gunn_charles_ August 1 2006, 20:16:49 UTC
Girl was looken paler then a vamp. Paler then English used to look before he was the sun like a whole lot these days. Guess that’s another positive side effect of us workin’ here. No more nightshifts till the dead of mornin’. Not that I was missin’ that. Nuh uh, not me, and pigs can fly. Best not say that out loud, cause Wes is still Wes enough to point out there are demons that look like pigs and can fly.

“Yeah, Angel skipped out, again, sorta. Dunno, he was probably stressed out. Decides we were gonna fight inside the belly of the beast, use all them recourses for good and gain the upperhand in our fight against evil,” I shrugged. Never was as good as Wes and Fred when it came to skippin’ ‘round the problem. Not that us workin’ here was a problem. Cause we was doing good. I was doing good.

“Is it the hair? Aint it?” I asked in voice that was supposed to be joking but failin’ by like half a mile. “Thought it looked more sophisticated myself, y’know, fittin’ with the new job. Whoa, hold up there. You was tossed into a weapons cabinet? When was that, cause I don’t remember you bein’ tossed into a weapons anything since a ling time ago.”

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__visiongal August 6 2006, 13:07:18 UTC
Angel was probably stressed out?! I blink at Gunn, looking back at Wesley because he's the smart one, damnit! He's the smart one and he's not coming up with a 'why yes, Cordelia, you have recently fallen into the twilight zone' - he's not saying anything, except being all chivalrous and asking how I feel.

"How do I feel?" I ask, incredulously, "Gee, I don't know. Like someone put me on a train right into Bizarro World and forgot to let me know I was going?"

Wait a second-- I heard all that about fighting inside the belly of the beast, using their resources for what now? "It's not the hair, Gunn," I tell him, though sure, it's a bit weird seeing Gunn when he's all non-bald and everything. That? Was no explanation!

“Whoa, hold up there. You was tossed into a weapons cabinet? When was that, cause I don’t remember you bein’ tossed into a weapons anything since a ling time ago.”

Oh God, that Doctor was right. I mean, I kinda knew when I saw that paper but if the guys think that my being tossed into a weapons was a long time ago--Oh Jesus.

"It was just yesterday," I say quietly, "Feels like only yesterday. It was my birthday and you guys had got me a Supergirl cake, I--" I glance up at Wesley, "I was standing there holding the baby and I just felt weird and all of a sudden I'm being shunted backwards into a weapons cabinet and now I'm waking up and you guys work for evil and can't even come up with a decent explanation as to oh, I dunno, *why*?"

This is fucked up. This is so beyond fucked up. Where the hell is Angel? Come to think of it, where the hell is everyone? What the hell happened in the last two year to make Angel think that going to work for Wolfram and Hart was a good idea?

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_wes_pryce_ August 9 2006, 21:33:24 UTC
Gunn and I shared a glance. Cordelia may have woken up, and I’m very, very happy about that, but apparently there has been some damage done. Then again, she’s been in a coma for quite a while it would be naïve not to expect some damage. I had really hoped and prayed that it wasn’t going to be this bad, because she was mostly talking in riddles. And one glance at Gunn confirmed that he thought the same.

Both of us knew better then to say that out loud though. Because she may be confused and… apparently very angry, she’s still Cordelia Chase though.

Wait. Baby?

“Baby?” I blinked at her and looked over at Gunn again who shrugged. “What baby are you talking about, Cordelia? And the incident with the weapons cabinet was…. That was two years ago,” I explained quietly, giving her a very worried look now. Maybe I should get a doctor. Did they check her out at all?

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_gunn_charles_ August 9 2006, 21:34:06 UTC
“We are not working for evil,” I told her, feeling rather insulted that she seems to think that. Dunno where she got an idea like that. Bein’ all amnesia girl on us and then thinking she can do the judgment thing? “Girl you’re missin’ two years,” I said, giving her a worried look. She should sit down. She should be checked out or something.

When she mentioned a baby, Wes and I shared another confused look. “What baby?” I said at the same time Wes did. Don’t remember getting any cases that involved kids, let alone a baby. Only case we had a kid was the last time Angel did the ditchin’ game. Gone off into whatever the fuck it is formerly evil vampires do when they go off to brood big time.

“Think we should get a doctor in here?” I ask Wes who was practically hovering over Cordy. Near her. Whatever. Haven’t seen much of Wes, since he locks himself in the office if he aint running from meeting to meeting to keep this place up and runinin’ and none evil. And between me bein’ on cases and in court so much, we seem to be driftin’. Not of the good maybe.

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__visiongal August 17 2006, 01:32:17 UTC
What baby? Were they kidding me? Because I really, really wasn't finding this very funny.

"What do you mean, 'what baby'?" I repeated, blinking, "Are you guys on something?"

Apparently, because Gunn was looking at me kind of insulted that I thought he was working for evil. "Oh, I'm sorry," I murmured, "Are they not the law firm that tries to kill us every other week?"

This wasn't happening. It wasn't. They were talking about me like I wasn't here, asking if I needed a doctor. Wes went to put his hand on my arm and I pulled away, confused. "H-he said that my being confused was normal, that maybe everything would start coming back to me..." I murmured, taking Gunn's earlier advice and sitting down on the bed.

"But I don't--All I remember is going through the weapons cabinet. It was my birthday, you guys had bought me a cake and Co--" I stopped. They knew nothing about Connor and I couldn't, for the life of me, work out why.

I glanced up at Wesley, my voice hoarse, "Has it really been two years?" I whispered. "Have I been in the coma that long?"

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_wes_pryce_ August 21 2006, 15:22:46 UTC
And once more she mentions this baby. This coma must’ve done more damage then either of us realized of even wanted to realize. Gunn and I share another worried glance as I hurry over to help Cordy to sit down. A Cordy who recoils from me as though I’m going to bite her. As though I’m something disgustingly evil.

Hurt, I look at her, taking a step back and thrusting my hands not my pockets. God, I wish Angel was here. He’s the bloody reason we joined this firm. I’m not really sure why we did it, just that I’d follow Angel anywhere. Well, and I thought we could do some good fighting from inside the belly of the beast. Seems Cordelia doesn’t think that’s a very good plan.

Dragging my eyes away from the floor at the sound of her voice, her questions I look at her and shrug. What can I say? No it hasn’t, ha ha the joke is on you? “I’m afraid so, Cordy,” I say instead, knowing the truth is often the best way to deal with things. “At least for us it has been two years. Two hard years, I-- It’s.. I’m sorry.”

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_gunn_charles_ August 21 2006, 15:23:19 UTC
Ouch girl, nasty. The way she moved away from Wes and that look flashin’ over his face? Her face? Oh yeah, mayhem city abound. We’re in such deep shit, and not just from Queen C here. Still think we did done the right thing. Fightin’ from inside the belly of the beast. We do good. This firm aint evil no more, we made sure of that. Still makin’ sure of that.

“See nothing’s wrong with your sarcasm,” I said loudly. Why mutter? We all heard her. “’Sides, you’re apparently missin’ two years, girl. Two very important years you don’t remember now. Gonna take us some time to bring you up to speed. So how about you save judgment till after that huh? ‘S all I ask.”

Now if only them two years wouldn’t seem like a blur to me from time to time too. I’m blamin’ that on the brain upgrade. Comes with a price, knew that when I agreed to it. Made me more then just the muscle, so I aint complainin’. “So a doc looked you over yet? When can you leave, we need to find you a place to say, less you wanna stay with one of us. Cause…” I let my voice trail off, rubbin’ my hand over my head, still not used to feelin’ hair there. “…we kinda had to give up your apartment.”

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__visiongal September 14 2006, 23:57:12 UTC
Two years. Two years. Wes apologizes - all sweet bumbling guy - and I'm torn between wanting to hug him and kick the crap out of him for being so goddamn stupid, so--

“See nothing’s wrong with your sarcasm,” says Gunn and I turn my gaze to glare at him. Sarcasm? He calls *that* sarcasm? Because if he wants a whole host of sarcastic comments on the place he works and the fact that he has hair now, well, I'm his girl. Or not, as the case may be here.

“’Sides, you’re apparently missin’ two years, girl. Two very important years you don’t remember now. Gonna take us some time to bring you up to speed. So how about you save judgment till after that huh? ‘S all I ask.”

"Save judgement?" I ask incredulously, "I wake up from a coma and find out my best friends are working for the company that tried to kill us over and over again and you ask me to save judgement?"

So, what, did his new suits kill his brain power or something? Or am I really really in bizarro-world?

He asks me if a doctor has looked me over yet and I nod. Everything's fine apart from the whole missing two years part. All in working order - ship-shape and ready to go--

"You had to give up my apartment? But--Dennis!" I protest, looking pleadingly at Wes, "You guys got him out, right?" Because I can just imagine how *not* impressed he is with whoever is living there now. God, what the hell happened?

I feel kind of sick now. My best friends work for evil, Gunn thinks it's bad enough that I should be saving judgement and my Dennis - my bestest Phantom friend in the whole entire world is probably terrorising some poor tenant, waiting for me to come home.

I don't like this. "The doctors said I should stay for observation," I murmur, "But screw that. I want out of this place. Smells a little too much like ammonia-soaked death if you ask me."

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_wes_pryce_ September 17 2006, 13:36:12 UTC
This is so not going well. I’m so very glad that she’s ‘back, but she’s not even giving us a chance to explain anything. And who is this Connor she keeps mentioning? With trying to lead this bloody firm after Angel took off again, I really don’t need this as well. I mean, Gunn and Fred are off to do their own things and aren’t really in the position to help much at all. I’m once again left holding the bag.

God. I’m getting a headache.

“Dennis? What? Oh no,” I shake my head, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of my nose. “He wanted to wait there for you. They’ve not been able to rent the place out as of…”

The phone buzzing in my pocket makes me nearly jump. I’d been so busy with trying to soothe Cordelia that I’d forgotten about it. “Just a moment,” I murmur, plucking the damn thing out of my pocket and moving to the side as to not disturb them.

“What is it, Jennifer? Whom? Rupert Giles? Yes, I know him. Oh, he did? Important. Yes, isn’t it always. I suppose so, yes. Oh. Right away? Well I can’t… What? Oh, they did. And the Draglock clan as well. Alright. Yes. No, no, don’t worry about it. I’ll be over right now. Yes. Thank you, Jennifer.”

Sighing, I rub my temples and click off the phone. What the hell could Rupert Giles want from me? When it comes to that man he’s as one, it would seem, with Cordelia. We were evil, the end, no middle way or any other way possible. I’m really getting tired of it.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I apologize to both of them. And emergency seems to have come up. Again. Uh, if you want, Cordelia, you can stay with me until we can get you back your own apartment. I still have my old one.” I moved over to her and hesitated for a moment, not really certain she’d like me hugging her. Probably not. Instead I patted her on her shoulder awkwardly and gave her a weak smile.

“Don’t leave us again, Cordy,” I whispered, hovering for a short moment and then making my way out the door.

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_gunn_charles_ September 17 2006, 13:42:41 UTC
“Yeah, that’s what I’m askin’,” I pointed out getting a bit pissy. Wakes up from a coma girl and she’s meting out judgment like that already. No questions asked ‘bout what happened, why did we do it, what’s goin’ on. No, we’re evil and that’s that. So not. We’re doin’ good.

Fred’s doin’ good finding cures for all them diseases the old firm had developed. I was doin’ good with the charity cases I was takin’ on now. And the projects I’d been setting up for the old hood. Wes was.. Headin’ for a big nervous breakdown tryin’ to keep the firm running, but…

See what I mean? I shot Cordy a look as Wes pulled away to answer his phone. Short call and then he was out the door like a flash of nervous tightness to end all English tightness. “Nother day, nother emergency,” I muttered with a shrug.

“Like he said. Dennis don’t want no other renters in his place. So it’s still free. Can probably get you back in there in a day or so if ya want. Till then you can stay with Wes, or with me. I got me a penthouse now,” I pointed out, beaming proudly at her. “Its all kinds of… what’s the word Wes used?”

Rubbin’ the back of my neck I frowned. Seems my memory aint what it used to be either. Weird ass. “Oh yeah, posh like or sumat. You could gimme some decoratin’ tips. Lorne and Fred are to busy to do much of anything. They’re gonna be happy to see you again though. So wanna go ditch doctors orders and grab some grub?”

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__visiongal October 9 2006, 06:36:19 UTC
Wesley left. His cellphone rang and Wes was pretty much his usual bumbling self, but--There was something different about that bumbling. There was something different about Wesley.

Oh, I saw it in Gunn, too. But underneath Wes' bumbling exterior, underneath the need to keep everyone safe and run his damn law firm there was a kind of weariness there that set my teeth on edge and I couldn't work out why.

Gunn mentions my apartment again and I swing my gaze to his, smiling slightly as he tells me Dennis really didn't want anybody else in the place. "I'd like that," I nod, when he mentions he can get me back there in a couple of days - maybe that'll make things a little better. "You have a penthouse?"

Decorating tips? Okay, I get the feeling that I have to play half-way normal here for a while, so I nod and smile - said smile brightening when Gunn asks if I want to ditch the doctors.

"Yes. And hell yes to the food," I nod, because a liquid diet for two years? Soooo not fun. "Can we grab me something to wear from somewhere? I didn't see any of my clothes here and this--" I pull on the hospital nightgown "--is just way too far on the wrong side of eww for me to even contemplate wearing."

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