Faith, Pike, and Sister Sunshine (Portal, Part 6, 3/4)
Title: Faith, Pike, and Sister Sunshine (Portal, Part 6, 3/4)
Author: kanedax
Fandom: BtVS Wishverse
Spoilers: Previous Chapters
Major Characters: The Mayor, Pike/Drusilla, Buffy, Faith, Merrick, Giles, Post
Rating: R for language and violence
Summary: The Master is gone, and far too many try to fill the void
Notes: I don’t own these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Christopher Golden, Dark Horse Comics, and 20th Century Fox.
Sister Sunshine (2/4) / Previous Chapters / Sister Sunshine (4/4)
Frank Appleby yawned as he wandered down the steps, one hand absently picking an eye booger while the other slid the pump on his twelve gauge shotgun. Frank was always a sucker for big guns, and ever since he saw Terminator the pump-action would always be his favorite. The way that Linda whatever handled it, ooh baby.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," he growled. The frantic pounding on the door continued, and Frank sneered as they beat into his hung-over ears. He had forgotten his stake upstairs, but if it was a vamp it wouldn't matter anyway. They couldn't come in, but a slug between the eyes would at least give them something to think about, if it didn't dust them completely.
"Anyone home?" came a man's voice from the other side. "Please, we have people hurt here, we need an ambulance!"
A likely story, Frank thought. And even if it is, I'd be happier if you left me the fuck alone.
"Come on!" came a girl's voice. "I can see a light on upstairs, I know someone's awake! Help!"
Frank turned around and looked back up the stairs. Sure enough, he didn't notice it before, but the crack under his daughter's door glowed with her lamp. Stayin up all hours, playin with boys on her internets, he thought savagely. Someone's gonna have to teach her the meaning of a curfew.
"Fuck," he grumbled, knowing that the two punks outside would probably keep pounding until he answered or until he called the cops. And he really didn't want to have to deal with the police this time of night. These two were probably some of the delinquents that had been shooting off those fireworks in the graveyard, the ones that had been keeping Frank up with their explosions. He almost had a savage pleasure in realizing that one of them probably blew his hand off with one that he had thought was a dud, and now they were screaming for a doctor.
Well, Frank decided as he opened the door, he'd just kindly shove the shotgun in their face, tell them to run home to Mommy, and maybe they wouldn't lose their other hand for keeping him up till all hours.
His first thought at seeing the four teenagers was that two of them had been into a lot more than he would even consider imaginable. Two of the kids, one guy and one girl, were both standing on his doorstep almost naked from the waist up, the boy completely so and the girl clad in only her bra.
Insanity, he thought. Two of them were busy diddling each other while the other two were making a racket.
Then he saw the other boy, one that the girl in the bra was hoisting up on her shoulder. One of his arms was slung around her shoulder, and the other was hanging uselessly by his side. It looked malformed, like it was shattered in multiple places. The girl was pressing a large, soggy mass to his neck, and from the look of his face, pale as a ghost, Frank could guess that the mass was the shirts, and the sog was this boy's blood. The boy looked about on the verge of passing out, and Frank couldn't blame him.
"Vampire?" he asked carefully.
"Yeah," said the tall boy, "Could you let us in?" He himself was cradling a small, unconscious blonde in his arms, whose face was covered in blood. Not as bad off as the short boy, of course, but still in far from the best shape.
"Fraid not," said Frank, lifting his gun. "I don't know if this boy's gonna be turned or not."
"He won't be," said the boy. "He was only fed on for a few seconds, he didn't get a chance to feed himself."
"Well, even so," said Frank. "I want you all to get out of here. I don't want no authorities on my property."
"Look, man," said the boy. "If you could just let us in, we'll call the ambulance and be on our way."
"Did you not hear me?" Frank said loudly. "It's one in the morning, and I said get the hell out of here!"
"He's dying!" the girl yelled. "Let us in!"
"And how do I know you ain't vamps yourself, huh?" Frank said, releasing the safety on the shotgun. "Why the hell should I invite you in only to be a snack?"
"Dad?"
"Joan, go back to bed!" Frank yelled to his daughter, who was clad in pajama pants and an old Marilyn Manson t-shirt and was standing at the top of the stairs looking down at the discussion.
"Dad, what's going on?"
"Look, it'd be really easy to show you that we're not vamps," said the boy. "Just fucking put down the shotgun and we'll walk in without an invitation."
"Afraid that ain't gonna happen."
"Why the fuck not?" the girl cried.
"Well, if you ain't gonna take any other answer, I'll just say I don't want any blood on my carpet."
"Dude, if you don't get that gun out of my face...!"
"Oh, God," Joan gasped, running down the stairs. "Oh, God, Oz!"
"Joan, I said go back to bed!"
"Oh, for God's sake, Dad, get out of the way," said Joan. "It's Oz. I know him, he's in Devon's band, and he's not evil! Let them in!"
"So he's friends with your no-class boyfriend?" Frank snorted. "Oh, yeah, that definitely puts him in my good graces."
"Larry, right?" Joan said. "Wait here, I'll call 911."
"Joan, you get back here!"
"For Chrissake, mister," the girl in the bra snapped, "I don't give a shit whether you want authorities here or not. If you don't let us in you're going to have to deal with a corpse on your front step, and you know that's going to have a lot more paperwork and a lot more questions than a fucking ambulance call."
Frank took another look at the bleeding boy. The girl had a point, as Joan's friend had finally lost consciousness, and she was struggling desperately both to keep him from falling to cement steps and to keep their bloody clothes pressed against his wound.
"Damn it," Frank grumbled. "All right, all right, get the hell in here. But no further than the front entry, you hear? I don't wanna have to replace no carpet."
"What a saint," the girl said dryly as she and the boy stepped in. She carefully laid Oz down on his back, but the tall boy (Larry, Frank remembered) poked her quickly in the ribs after he set the unconscious girl down and shook his head.
"Keep him elevated." he said, doing the same with the blonde. "If you lay him down the blood will flow out of the wound faster."
"Okay," the girl said, pushing Oz into a sitting position. "Sorry bout that. Post wasn't much for first aid training."
"It's alright," said Larry, and turned around to keep the blonde sitting up as Joan walked into the entry, the phone pressed to her ear.
"Yeah, two injuries," she said. "Okay, maybe three," she added with a quick glance at the girl in the bra, "but two of them are really serious. One of them was bitten, and he's bleeding badly... Yeah, vampire."
"Shit," said the girl in the bra, "what a town."
"What?" Joan asked into the receiver, pressing her finger to her ear. "What? No, I... No, I don't have... I wasn't there... Hang on. Take over," she said to Larry, handing him the cordless phone. "They want more information while they're on their way."
"Yeah, sure," said Larry. "Hold Buffy up for me, and maybe you could reach over and help Faith put pressure on Oz's bite."
"Okay," Joan said with a nod, kneeling down beside Faith. "Pretty name," she said quietly.
"Thanks," said Faith. "You have any clean rags? Towels? I don't think this shit's gonna hold much more."
"Yeah, I was there," Larry said into the phone. "She fed. No, he didn't feed. How long? I don't know, thirty seconds? Twenty? I wasn't completely alert at the time..."
"Dad, go get some of Mom's nasty towels," said Joan.
"You know she'd kill me," said Frank, standing over the scene, shotgun still in hand. "They're gonna have to make due."
"I'll buy you new fucking towels!" Joan yelled. "Just go!"
"Don't you talk back to me, young lady!"
"Mister," Larry said calmly, "the paramedics are saying that we shouldn't hold the dirty bandages there for too long. I'll compensate you for the towels, I promise."
Frank glared furiously at Larry, who stared back, the calm in the storm. After a few moments he reset the safety on his shotgun, leaned it against the side of the stairs, and went to the other end of the house.
"Thanks," Larry said to no one in particular as he heard the sound of Frank's footsteps on the basement stairs. "Okay, yeah, new bandages," he said into the phone. "Yeah, broken arm. Buffy has a broken nose, too. Probably some damaged ribs. No, vamp tossed her hard against a gravestone... Yeah..."
"Fucking insane," said Faith to Joan, who was holding her quickly-reddening hand on top of Faith's as they both pressed hard against Oz's wound.
"What is?" asked Joan. "Besides, you know, the whole situation?"
"The whole way you people act," said Faith. "Hell, two years I go I didn't know a thing about vamps, and here's Larry talking to the hospital about them like they ain't more common than a nippy dog."
"Welcome to Sunnydale," said Joan with a small smile. "One of the few places in the world that actually know about the undead."
"Freaky shit," Faith said.
"And to think I actually wanted to be like them once," Joan sighed. "Some of the kids at school, they were starting a club, trying to get a vamp to come and turn them. We thought the whole Ann Rice, gothic immortal whatever was the real deal. Then The Master showed up, and, well... now we know."
"Now we know," Faith agreed.
"I had a new name picked out and everything," Joan chuckled as Faith heard the first sirens in the distance. "Chanterelle. Sounded like something out of some harlequin romance novel, so I thought it was perfect."
"Daniel Osbourne," said Larry. "You should have his file on record, he's been in before with injuries. And, yeah, the girl you won't have on file there, she's new to town. Her name's Buffy--ow!"
Larry's leg kicked up in reflex as Faith punched him hard in the shin. "No name!" Faith said in a hissing whisper. "She's dead, remember?"
"Sorry," he mouthed, returning to the phone. "Yeah, sorry, it's not Buffy. No, I don't know her real name, that's just what I've been calling her, cuz she seems like someone who should be on 90210."
Faith rolled her eyes, but in the end she knew she couldn't have thought of a better cover in a clutch.
"No, she's one of Daniel's friends," Larry continued. "We just met her at the coffee shop tonight, she just came into town. She should be able to give you more information when she wakes up... No, no med bracelet... No ID, she left it at her hotel... Sorry, don't know where it is..."
Joan watched the back and forth between Faith, Larry, and the operator with mild interest. She turned to Faith.
"No," Faith replied shortly.
"What?" Joan said. "I didn't say anything."
"No, we can't tell you who she is," Faith continued. "It's not anything we... It's complicated."
"She has something to do with The Master being gone, doesn't she?" Joan concluded. "That's why she got beaten up instead of just bitten like most vampires would do."
"You keep piecing it together yourself there, blondie," said Faith. "If she wants to tell you more, it's her business, not mine."
Joan was primed to ask more questions, but was interrupted by the entrance of two paramedics from the ambulance outside. They were hauling a stretcher, and looked down between the two victims in a quick triage calculation.
Larry did the math for them. "Daniel first," he said, pointing to Oz. "He was bitten, and he's lost a ton of blood."
The two medics exchanged glances, then nodded in agreement. Hoisting Oz up onto the stretcher, which they pushed into the sitting position, they pushed it outside.
"One of us should go back to the library," said Faith. "Tell the Watchers what happened."
"Oh, shit," Larry sighed, "you're right. I forgot about Giles. Are you in any shape, or should I go?"
"You go," said Faith as the medics returned for Buffy. "You knew that that vamp who had the hots for B."
"I knew Pike when he was a crony for The Master, but nothing outside of that..."
"Fine, then I don't feel like running around Sunnydale in my skivvies."
Larry shocked himself by chuckling at Faith's comment, and nodded. "Okay," he said, "I'll head to the library. But only long enough to douse the Flame before we're heading to the hospital."
"Right," said Faith as Buffy was carted out. "I'll see you there."
"Do you need help, either of you?" Joan asked. "I mean, I could go in the ambulance if they have room."
"You ain't goin nowhere, Joan," said Frank, returning to the scene. He was carrying one of Joan's shirts and one of his own, tossing them to Faith and Larry. "Keep em," he said. "They was going to the poorhouse, anyway."
"Stop trying to run my life, Dad!" Joan shouted.
"No more arguing!" Faith yelled as Larry ran out the door. "Joan, come with me."
"I'll call when I get to the hospital," Joan said to her dad, who just shook his head. She had numbers on her side right now, but by God she'd hear his side of things later.
Joan and Faith followed the paramedics out into the street, and one of the medics motioned them both into the ambulance.
"Damn it," Joan muttered to Faith as they climbed in. "I swear, if it weren't obligated to stick around at make sure vamps don't kill my folks, I would have been gone years ago. I always wanted to go to Los Angeles."
"Eh, it's not all it's cracked up to be," said Faith, closing the door behind her. "LA doesn't hold a Zippo to Boston."
---------
"He was my boyfriend," said Buffy. "Kind of."
As morning broke, Faith Lahane sat on the hospital bed of Buffy Summers, who had regained consciousness soon after being placed in the ambulance. Buffy was currently sitting up in the bed, a splint taped across her broken nose and a large bruise spread across her jaw. Beneath her hospital gown numerous bandages were wrapped around her multiple broken ribs, and even though she hid it behind her Slayer endurance Faith could still see the masked pain on her face whenever she breathed.
"I figured that much out," Faith said. She herself had a bruise along her cheekbone, a deep hand-shaped bruise around her neck, and a butterfly bandage and stitches holding shut a large cut along her forehead. She couldn't remember if she had earned that particular gash from the first fight with the Lagos or from Drusilla smacking her good after Faith turned her into an undead shish kabob. After a night like that, though, Faith knew that she was plenty beat up enough, and didn't need to waste energy on the who what when.
"Have you?" Buffy said. "Cuz if you have, you're ahead of the curve. I don't even know if he was a boyfriend or what he was. We were only together for, well, three days. Before that he was just some jerk who went to my school and made himself out to be a regular prick around me and my friends. One of those rebel without a clue types, you know?"
"I've known my share." From what Faith knew about her, Buffy wasn't the type to talk about her past very much. But after meeting Pike again, Faith figured the least she could do is sit and listen to the Slayer purge some nasty shit.
"Then I saved him from some vamps," Buffy continued. "Then he saved me from some vamps. Then we both saved Merrick from Lothos, my first alpha. After that we were a team, at least for the few days before the gym."
"The gym?"
"Big fight," Buffy explained. "At one of our school dances. Lothos showed up with what seemed like an army of vampires. We fought them, and Pike didn't..."
"...He was bitten," Faith said. "Turned."
"I didn't know," Buffy said quietly. "I thought he was dead, all of those vampires attacking him, I thought... I let him go..."
Buffy was ready to go on, but was interrupted by the door to her hospital room opening, and the bulky body of Merrick Jamison-Smythe entered.
"How is he?" Faith asked.
"He'll live," Merrick replied. "But it was a close call. He probably wiped out half of this hospital's blood bank getting him back up to speed again, but he's into the clearing."
Faith and Buffy both nodded. Oz had been in more than rough shape when they finally made it to Sunnydale Medical Center. Larry had found Merrick and Giles at the high school and, after going through some checkups from the med staff to make sure he hadn't been too badly damaged by Post's electrocution, joined the two Watchers, along with Joan and, eventually, Joan's boyfriend Devon, at Oz's side until they knew he had made a full recovery.
Although all of them had come to check in with Buffy, Faith was the only one to stay by her side throughout the night. Merrick had stayed more than the others, of course, but he also knew that there was more work to be done, and had spent a considerable amount of the last few hours back at Giles's townhouse, poring over any ancient texts on the Glove of Mynhegon that he could find.
But in the end it was Faith who eventually fell asleep in the chair next to Buffy's bed. She couldn't say why, really. She had never been into that touchy-feely crap. But after Post's death, she supposed, Buffy was probably the closest link that she had to something bigger than she was. Something that she could be someday.
"That's good to hear," said Buffy shortly. "Now when am I going to be getting out of here?"
"Soon, I hope," said Merrick. "You'll be patched up faster than you would anywhere else in the country, that's for sure. Not many hospitals list vampire attack on their admission forms, but this one does. Plus the doctors have already noticed your advanced healing abilities."
"They don't know, do they?" asked Buffy.
"No, they don't," Merrick grumbled. "And thankfully your false documents set up by the Watchers Council three years ago are still strong enough to pass. Unfortunately, there is the matter of Pike and Drusilla. They both know you're here, they both know you're the Slayer, and, from what I hear from Larry and Daniel, they both probably know where your operating."
"How would they know that?"
"Two of the vampires in The Master's circle, who went by the names of Willow Rosenberg and Alexander Harris, used to belong with Rupert's group," Merrick explained. "Shortly before you arrived here in Sunnydale, they attacked the library. So they knew that the White Hats based from there, so The Master knew that the White Hats based from there. I don't know where Oliver stood in The Master's circle of influence, but in a case like this it's best to play it safe."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning the library is no longer in play. We'll be transferring all useful documentation and weaponry to Giles's house during the daylight hours, and our new base of operations will be from there."
Buffy listened to Merrick's words, but had to pause a few moments before absorbing them all. "Wait, our new base of operations? We're staying?"
"Of course we are," said Merrick. "You don't think a Slayer would leave a town with two high-powered vampires on the loose, do you?"
"Well, yeah," said Buffy uncomfortably. "But after?"
"This town needs us," said Merrick. "I thought Giles was wrong when he first spoke to me about you, but I understand it now. Three years in Cleveland, and we never had this level of paranormal and demonic activity. We can do some good with the time we have, Buffy, and that's all that matters."
"But I'm dead!" Buffy yelled, and flinched as her ribs wailed in response. "I'm dead," she repeated in a quieter voice. "That's all fine and dandy to pretend I'm Anne Smythe on paper, but Sunnydale's only, what, two hours away from LA? It's a big town, with a big college. It's only a matter of time before someone from Hemery runs into me and starts to freak. Or someone who knew my parents. Or my mom or dad show up. What then?"
"Then we'll do what we have to," Merrick said. "Same as if one of them showed up in Cleveland. But I think you're over-estimating the likelihood, Buffy. When The Master was in power, Sunnydale gained a national reputation of being the most dangerous city in America. Hell, they cultivated that reputation in order to keep people out. Businesses dried up, people who could move away did. The government kept the PR in control, saying that it was because of rampant crime and gang violence, and those who did move out were afraid to even talk about vampires for fear of being institutionalized. I wouldn't expect anyone from affluent Hemery High to attend UC Sunnydale, nor would I expect Joyce or Hank to go out of their way to visit this place."
"Fine," Buffy mumbled. "You're the Watcher. Just know that I'm not liking the plan so far."
"You'll learn to love it," Merrick replied flatly before turning to Faith. "And while we're speaking of settling down, Miss Lahane, I hope you're comfortable here in Sunnydale, because you'll be staying for a while. We spoke to the Watcher's Council about your status, and they agreed that Mr. Giles will take on the role of your Watcher until the time comes that you've passed the Age of Choosing."
"Fine by me," said Faith. "He seems decent enough. A little tweedy, but not the embodiment of all evil like the last one they sent."
"He's not evil."
"Yeah, thank your Watcher buddies for that, would ya?" Faith said with a roll of her eyes. "Glad to know they have such a kickass screening process for their employees."
"They do," Merrick said, sitting down in the chair that Faith had slept in during the night. "In fact, it was good enough where they booted Gwendolyn Post out of the Council years ago."
"What?" both girls yelled simultaneously.
"She was expelled from the Council for abuse of the Dark Arts," Merrick explained. Buffy could tell from his voice and his manner that this information didn't sit well with him.
"Why didn't they tell us?" asked Buffy. "And how'd she find Faith?"
"You have to realize, Buffy, that there are hundreds, maybe thousands, of Potential Slayers in the world, and hundreds of Watchers to find them. The firing of one Watcher isn't worth mentioning to all of the agents in the field, nor is the news of a Potential falling off the board. Both happen all of the time. After the death of Professor Dormer and the disappearance of Faith, an investigation decided that she had also been killed."
"But Post found her instead," said Buffy.
"She knew what she was talking about," Faith muttered blankly. "Knew all of the lingo that Prof Dormer knew, all of the training, everything. Plus, hey, Watchers, you know? Not exactly public knowledge."
"It's completely understandable that you accepted her as legit, Faith," said Merrick. "We all did, and Giles and I know more about the society than you'll ever know. She was the real deal to everyone but the Council."
"God, and I helped her..."
"In the end you probably helped more than you'd think," said Merrick. "We knew nothing about the Glove of Mynhegon before you arrived. But the Lagos knew about it, and somehow Oliver and Drusilla knew about it, and all three were on their way there to find it, but we beat them to it."
"But they have it!" Faith said. "They got the fucking Glove, we didn't do anything!"
"We know it exists, we know who has it, and we know how to destroy it. That gives us a head start that we wouldn't have had if Post hadn't given it to us."
"How about more of a head start?" said Buffy. "Do we know where they're at? Pike and the other one?"
"Drusilla," said Merrick. "I looked her up, and confirmed a lithograph with Larry. She was one of four vampires who terrorized Europe and Asia together in the 1800's, and could easily be described as the most horrific in recorded history. Of the four, we know for sure that one is dead, and have made assumptions that the other two have been dusted, as well."
"How do we know that?" asked Buffy. "I mean, if she's still around, we may have others on our hands."
"You saw one of them die."
"Who? The Master? Lothos?"
Merrick sighed. "All four of them were terrible, but Angelus was the worst. Higher body count, loved the torture, all that fun stuff. Then he killed a Gypsy girl, and her family retaliated by cursing him with a soul. He instantly felt the blood on his hands of his hundreds, maybe thousands of victims, and went into hiding, only to come out later here in Sunnydale. He sided with the White Hats, and was killed in the battle with The Master."
"Wait..." Buffy said, sitting up despite the pain. "That vampire I rescued? The one who was being tortured? That was Angelus?"
"It was," said Merrick.
"Huh," she said. "What about the other two?"
"One was a female named Darla," Merrick continued. "She was The Master's right hand until she turned Angelus and went on a rampage with him. After Angelus was re-souled and the group disbanded she returned to The Master's side at about the time he rose here in Sunnydale. She disappeared at about the same time the two White Hats were turned and became The Master's main confidantes, so we're guessing that she as killed in that coup.
"The fourth, William the Bloody, is probably also out of the picture. He and Drusilla were historically close, connected at the hip, did everything together. If she's running around town without him and, more importantly, with another male vampire, the chances are he's out of her world. Whether he's dead or not we can't say, but the odds of him turning up are pretty slim."
"If they show, they show," said Buffy. "We'll deal. So what now? Do we know where they're hiding? Or how to get the Glove back? Once it's on it can't be removed, right?"
"The Glove stays on the arm until the bearer is killed," said Merrick. "As for where they're hiding we have no idea. We couldn't even find them until they turned up last night. Unfortunately, there's really only two ways to look for them."
"Look and get lucky, or follow the trail of bodies," Buffy said, leaning back in frustration. "Damn it. Pike..."
"It's not him," said Merrick, leaning in. "You know this. Oliver Pike died three years ago in the gym. That thing wearing the Glove of Mynhegon is also wearing his body. You can kill him. You're the Slayer. It's what you do."
"I know," Buffy said. "I know. It's just... It's... I couldn't last night. I tried to convince myself to do it, but it was him. It looked like him, and my brain and my heart told me it was him, no matter how horrible he was. Besides, it's... God, I don't know..."
Buffy leaned over, propping her elbows on her knees and hanging her head in her hands.
"This happens to every Slayer at some point, Buffy," Merrick said. "It doesn't matter how much we isolate them from the outside world, eventually the vampires will strike the Slayer's heart. You just have to fight through it, accept that they're dead, and remember that you're killing the thing that killed them."
"I know," Buffy said, hating herself for the scared little fifteen year old girl coming through in her voice. "I know..."
"Look, Smythe," Faith said quietly. "Our girl needs some rest, right? She ain't fighting any vamps anytime soon, so why don't we just deal with it when we deal with it."
Merrick stared at Faith for a moment, took a look at Buffy, and nodded. "Of course," he said. "You're in no condition right now..."
"I think we'll go check on Danny boy," said Faith, shoving herself off Buffy's bed. "I should probably talk to Giles, anyway, now that he's my main man. Sound good to you, Watcher?"
"Buffy?" Merrick asked.
"I'm fine," Buffy said. "I could use more sleep, actually."
"We'll leave you, then," said Merrick. "Get healthy, and we'll be back in a few hours."
Buffy nodded, and Merrick turned to leave. When Faith followed him out, Buffy called her back.
"Yeah, B?"
"Thanks," Buffy said to her, quite possibly the first time in years that she had said it to anyone without a tone of sarcasm.
"What for?" Faith said. "Watcher was going into Watcher lecture mode, I recognized the look. Post and Dormer had the same look from time to time. Figured you didn't need it right now."
"Well, it's appreciated," said Buffy. "It's good to have you around."
Faith shrugged. "I gotta be here for something, I guess. You need to hear my opinion on this shitpile?"
"Not really."
"Good, cuz I know if I were in your position I'd be looking for the next bus out of town rather than deal with it. Not that that's what I'm suggesting."
"Of course not," Buffy said with a small smile.
"You need to do that more often, looks good on you," said Faith, pointing to Buffy's face before walking out the door. Buffy watched her leave, closed her eyes, leaned back, and tried to sleep.
But sleep wouldn't come. Just the thoughts.
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